Through Your Eyes

by Ali Merci

  “You’re not making any sense! Are you even listening to yourself right now? You’re making my head messier than most of my doodling with all this confusion.”

  “Por Dios,” he swore under his breath, shoulders slumping in defeat, this nonsensical argument draining him of all energy. “Carmen,” he said slowly, stressing on each syllable like a teacher would speak to a kindergarten kid. “I do not like Willa in that way, okay? The rest is history.”

  But Carmen didn’t seem to be satisfied with his explanation, and she didn’t appear to be leaving his truck either. She folded her arms across her stomach and nestled her side further into the seat.

  “But then, why did you—I don’t understand.” She shook her head, completely ignoring his words about everything else being history.

  “It doesn’t matter,” he muttered. “It was nothing but a moment of impulse anyway. I was being stupid and an absolute idiot.”

  He watched her pull in the rightmost corner of her bottom lip, her eyes never leaving his face as they searched and searched for something that would explain what he couldn’t find the words to.

  “To whom doesn’t it matter?” she asked finally.

  Asa blinked. “What?”

  “You said it doesn’t matter,” she pointed out. “So, does it mean that it doesn’t matter to you? Or did you mean that your explanation wouldn’t matter to me?”

  His lips parted because maybe his mind knew this was the time to say something—to respond somehow. But his heart was sending a different message, because words failed him right then. And Asa had always been a heart-over-head guy.

  God, Carmen heard him. She heard him the way someone who’d been trapped in solitude and bound by shackles to cold concrete walls would want to be heard when their screams ripped through their vocal cords.

  Carmen heard him, and somehow, that was everything.

  “Your silence kind of answers that question,” she said, offering him a small smile. “Want to tell me why you think what you have to say wouldn’t matter to me?”

  Asa swallowed, knowing he could just dodge these questions and get the hell out of there. Away from her. Away from Carmen West. because she heard him when he didn’t expect anyone to, and if Asa wasn’t careful, he could fall in love with her for it.

  Despite that, he stayed put in his seat and only reached forward to kill the engine, realising that he might be here for a while.

  “Because,” he paused, “it’s… stupid?” He couldn’t meet her eyes. He wouldn’t. “Yes. Stupid. Actually, it’s even stupider to be talking about it, so you should probably just get going, Carmen.”

  “Why do you think it’s stupid?” Her eyes stayed fixed on his face, never faltering. Never wavering. She didn’t push him with her words or urge him on with her gaze. She just waited, and waited, and waited.

  Carmen just sat there, her eyes patient and warm on Asa’s face as if she was ready to make the whole world pause on its axis if it meant that he’d have more time to formulate the war raging on inside his heart into words.

  Asa noticed this. Again, he reminded himself that if he wasn’t careful, he could fall in love with her for it.

  “Because…Well… I mean, when I first ran into Willa, she just…” he trailed off, creasing his forehead as he tried to explain something that had been building up ever since that moment in his predominantly-white primary school he’d attended in this predominantly-white city he lived in when one little girl had tapped her mother’s hand and pointed at Asa, exclaiming loudly that he had different skin and that he spoke with a different accent.

  Asa must’ve been five or six at that time, same as the little girl. But the mother had still turned her daughter’s face away and shot her a disapproving look.

  “Stick with the others in your class, honey,” she’d told her, tucking a strand of the girl’s red hair behind her ear. “It’s for your own good, okay? And stay away from that one, too.” The woman had then gestured at another boy whose mother had come to drop him off.

  Asa hadn’t seen anything odd about the boy’s appearance because, unlike Asa, he had the same fair skin as the little girl’s, but then he noticed the boy’s mother with a cloth wrapped around her head, covering her hair, and he wondered if maybe that had been the problem.

  Asa hadn’t been able to see anything wrong with it, though. He’d just seen himself in that boy, scared as all hell to start first grade at a new school. He had also seen other kids his age, with the same fear on their faces. He hadn’t seen them by the clothes their parents wore or the colour of their skin; he’d just seen the same frightened expression on each and every one of those students. Despite everything else, they’d all felt the same emotion.

  Perhaps that moment was the stepping stone in Asa’s wondering why he wasn’t born in a way that everyone considered normal. And every other moment after that was just a chain reaction. A snowball effect. A snide remark here, a cruel comment there, a few nasty looks tossed into the mix. They’d all gathered as the years flew past, piling atop one another until it no longer suffocated Asa but became part of him.

  And maybe it was a more open world now, maybe it being 2018 meant that things were different for this generation, but that luck was reserved for the kids born now. Asa’s damage had already been done years ago, when bigotry dominated every fibre of too many beings.

  “Asa?”

  Carmen’s voice snapped Asa from his walk down memory lane, bringing him back to the present. Bringing him back to this place, where the girl with midnight hair sat right beside him and didn’t look like she was in a hurry to leave.

  “She had the wrong idea of me,” he found himself saying. “Willa, I mean. She thought I was an airhead, that all I had going for me was a pretty face. That I tossed girls aside like it was just another sport.”

  “And?” Carmen asked gently.

  “And,” he paused, not really knowing what to say. “I don’t know. I just…I guess I wanted to please her?” He ended up questioning himself rather than stating something to Carmen, as if he himself was discovering this small part of him only now. “She didn’t just think of me wrong. She looked at me wrong. And I guess I just wanted that to go away.”

  “You thought that maybe you could change how she saw you if you befriended her,” Carmen murmured, no longer looking at Asa but getting lost in thought as she frowned to herself.

  “You’re frowning.” Asa sighed softly. “Am I making you upset again?” he asked quietly, his eyes finding the courage to look away from nothingness and at her.

  The creases on Carmen’s forehead smoothened, and her gentle gaze met his. “You don’t make me upset, Asa,” she told him. “The world does.”

  “I used to think the same.” He smiled in an almost nostalgic manner. “That the world was a cruel place. But then I look at my parents and I remember that when people like them exist, not all hope is lost, you know?”

  “You exist too, Asa.” She smiled then, illuminating the cracks in Asa’s heart some more. And when she leaned forward and laid her palm on his cheek, his chest felt so full he thought it would explode. “And when you find yourself thinking the world is a cruel place again and if even looking at your parents don’t seem to help, look at a mirror. You owe yourself that much.”

  Asa was sure school had taught him how to arrange the letters of the English alphabet into words, and words into sentences. He was sure he’d been taught to pronounce these words and voice out these sentences. Hell, Asa was pretty darn sure AP Lit was one of his favourite subjects and that he was a die-hard bookworm. Words were his strong point; they’d always been.

  But Carmen…goddamn. Carmen robbed him of his speech every single time she spoke with her heart on her sleeve and her soul in her eyes. Words would never suffice, not when it came to her.

  “You can’t mean that,” he whispered.

  She moved her thumb against his cheek in small strokes like she was blurring the edges of one of her charcoal drawings. “I can.” She d
ropped her hand and leant back. “And I do.”

  He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t. There literally was nothing he could say that would show her how much his heart swelled with an emotion so profound that it made him want to bring down the moon to her fingertips.

  But a part of him already knew that Carmen would never ask for the moon to be plucked out of the sky. And that was what made her the phenomenal being that she was. She loved everything and everyone as they were.

  Asa wouldn’t say Carmen was pretty; she didn’t have Willa’s incredible hazel eyes that could catch anyone’s attention at first glance. She didn’t have Marlene’s sharp facial features that made guys turn their heads when she passed them. Neither did she have one of those hourglass figures like Isla that made everyone in the hallway do a double-take in wonder when she walked past.

  Asa wouldn’t say Carmen was pretty.

  Because Carmen West was, in every definition of the word, beautiful.

  She was beautiful right down to her bones and her soul, and that made everyone else pale in comparison.

  And if Asa wasn’t careful, he could fall in love with Carmen for it.

  He could.

  Oh, he could.

  31.

  Clipped Wings

  Carmen had only ever known noise. Up there, in her head, it was always so loud. Too loud, even. But here, in the passenger seat of Asa’s truck, which was beginning to feel a little like home, there was only silence. Asa brought that calm with him, silencing the chaos that stirred up storms in her mind and easing the turmoil in her heart. In his presence, she found some quiet. She’d only ever thought that art had the power to bring her peace.

  Then again, hadn’t she always believed that Asa was a work of art himself? It was only obvious then that he could bring her the kind of solace she often looked for in the pages of her art journal.

  “Hey, Carmen?” he spoke after a long stretch of silence.

  “Mmmm?” She averted her eyes from where they were staring blankly at her shoes tucked in a corner and met Asa’s inquisitive gaze.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  She nodded in response, and right then, she felt an odd sense of content wash over her.

  “The first time I drove you home,” he said and paused, “you told me you didn’t think I was a player.”

  “Yes.” She smiled.

  “Why’d you say that?”

  “Honestly, Asa.” She playfully rolled her eyes, attempting to put him at ease. “For someone who loves words so much, you’re pretty dense when it comes to definitions.”

  She saw his eyes widen in mild surprise but watching the grin that crawled over his face brought her relief after hearing him spill his heart out to her just minutes before.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” He chuckled, and that sound alone lit a spark in Carmen’s heart. She knew it would only grow into a fire which she’ll never be able to extinguish.

  Carmen didn’t mind, though. Those flames will keep her warm on the nights when everything else fell apart and abandoned her on the cold concrete.

  “A player, by definition, is someone who plays around with feelings and hearts. And correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think you actually fit into that category. You don’t string along anyone, do you?”

  “Of course not,” he said softly. “I just meant that I understand why it was an assumption everyone made…but somehow, you don’t.”

  “I told you.” She looked away from him, too scared he’d see something in her eyes when this topic came up. “I don’t assume. I don’t care what other people think.”

  “Yeah, I remember. I’m asking why you take such a strong stand against it…it just feels like there’s something more there. Like you take it very deep to heart whenever anyone’s being judgemental.”

  Carmen couldn’t remember the last time she felt such panic take hold of her heart, almost squeezing the life out of it. But she’d mastered the skill to remain unfazed a long time ago when she had to be the shoulder her father had to lean on when it became too much for him to walk without the ground beneath him cracking wide open.

  She’d long since learnt to slip a smile on her face and crinkle the edges of her eyes so that it looked genuine enough to make it easier for those around her to break without wondering if maybe she was breaking too, if not already broken.

  And that is what Carmen did then; she offered him a soft smile as if she didn’t feel herself slipping further and further into the abyss that always came calling during such moments of vulnerability.

  “I could ask you the same thing, you know,” she deflected his question subtly, but also genuinely, as she was also curious and wanted to ask Asa this question for a while now. “You defend Isla when they label her a slut, but you don’t stick up for yourself when they pass their judgements on you.” She frowned, wondering why Asa believed he wasn’t worthy of being defended. “What makes you think they’re all wrong when they ridicule her but that you’re expected to tolerate it when the same is done to you?”

  Asa just stared at her, not saying anything. He did that a lot these days, Carmen realised. It was as if he no longer knew how to use his voice.

  “I mean, I’ve seen you defend so many kids who get bullied time and time again, but instead of defending yourself, you’re trying to beat and bend yourself into the shape everyone wants you take form.” She bit the corner of her lip, continuing to stare at him with worry swimming in her eyes. “And Asa, there’s only so much you can bend yourself before you break.”

  “I guess I never thought it mattered enough,” he admitted quietly.

  “You mean you never thought that you mattered enough,” she emphasised. “Not it.”

  He cracked a small smile, looking at her sideways in an almost secretive glance. “Don’t go getting all philosophical on me now.”

  “Hey, I was just giving you a pep talk on vocabulary and definitions.” She held her hands up in a teasing manner. “It was you who took the conversation down this road.”

  He laughed then, and Carmen’s heart felt a little more alive again. That abyss that seemed to suck the joy out of her spirits seemed to not be so overpowering anymore. She’d live to fight another day not to succumb to it.

  “So, where were we?” Asa asked, grinning. “Ah, right, your ingenious decision to make me play tour guide.”

  Carmen pulled in her bottom lip, stopping herself from smiling because of that ridiculous sense of happiness that flooded her when she was reminded that Asa didn’t see Willa in that way.

  Carmen always saw things as more than what they were, looking past people’s exteriors while searching for who they were right down to the core of their beings. But with Asa, she was reminded of the simple joys in life. Like what butterflies felt like.

  She’d lost herself to the flames of intensity time and time again, that she never knew how much she actually craved for simplicity and the little, ordinary things until Asa had smiled at her for the first time and made her heart flutter in a way that she was sure was common amongst any teenager out there.

  It felt nice knowing that she could be just one of them too.

  “It wouldn’t be so bad,” she said. “Even though I don’t know what exactly happened in the canteen, I know you’re pretty sad about it and that it’s still bothering you despite having this conversation. Maybe tomorrow will get your mind off things.”

  “Actually.” Asa blinked, a look dawning over his face as if he’d just realised something himself. “I didn’t once think about the incident throughout our conversation.” He grinned then, so wide that the sheer joy radiating off it nearly blinded Carmen.

  Watching him smile in that manner was probably just the same as staring at the sun for too long that once you looked away from such magnificence, it took you a few moments to compose yourself and your sight to adjust to your surroundings again.

  “Oh,” was all Carmen could say. Was it really her own presence that had distracted him from his
troubles?

  “Thank you,” he said, sounding surprised himself.

  She laughed, slapping his arm lightly. “It’s not like I did it intentionally.”

  “Wouldn’t be surprised even if you had,” he told her quietly, his face turning serious.

  She only shook her head with a small smile in response, “So, we’ll see you there tomorrow?”

  “Wait, you’ll be there too?” Asa asked, sitting up a little straighter. Somehow, he didn’t look so weary of tomorrow anymore.

  Carmen nodded. “Yeah, she initially wanted me to show her around, but I figured adding you to the mix wouldn’t be too bad.”

  “I’m sure,” he muttered sarcastically. “Not bad at all.”

  She grinned at him cheekily. “Oh come on, it would be fun. Besides I’m always either holed up inside my room or walking around the neighbourhood alone. It’d be a nice change for me.”

  He cocked a brow. “And your true intentions have been revealed, after all,” he declared dramatically. “You planned this entire thing so that you’d have an excuse to have fun, huh?”

  Carmen let out a deep sigh, looking forlorn as she dropped her gaze to the floor. “Alas, you have discovered my diabolical scheme! Whatever shall I do?!”

  “Oh, wow, you’re terrible at this.” Asa laughed unapologetically as Carmen just gaped at his blunt remark.

  “Well, someone knows the art of flattery,” she muttered.

  “Oh, shut—” Asa’s words died in his throat, as his eyes seemed to register something behind Carmen at the exact same time she heard someone tap on the passenger seat window she’d pressed her back against.

  Despite knowing who it could be, she turned around anyway and found her father standing there with one palm lying flat against the glass as he looked at her with a curious expression.

  Her hands fumbled against the surface of the door as she tried to find the handle, and swung it open after struggling with it.

  “Hi, Dad.” She grinned, feeling the faintest bit awkward, which was only heightened when Asa didn’t say anything but just sat there in a dazed state.