by Ali Merci
Her eyes flickered to Carmen, who hadn’t noticed her yet, before landing once again on Asa. And then Isla blinked once, slowly, and nodded with a faint smile on her face.
Was that approval? Encouragement? Support? Was that Isla telling him she was glad to see them standing side by side again? Asa didn’t know, but that moment seemed to hold some kind of significance that he couldn’t describe yet.
Isla’s figure kept growing smaller the more Asa and Carmen continued moving forward, but he didn’t look away yet and parted his lips, about to mouth a silent goodbye to her when suddenly the bleachers disappeared from view and was replaced with a small stretch of wall and then the open space of the parking lot. They’d finally made it past the exit gate.
He swallowed back that goodbye and breathed in the fresh night air.
Out here, it was cooler and the atmosphere was free from the stench of sweat, smell of junk food and the humidity that came with so many bodies being in close proximity.
“You see Joyce yet?” Asa asked, tucking his hands into his pockets because he didn’t want to give into the urge to hold hers.
He watched Carmen chew on one corner of her lip, those eyes of hers scanning the area around them as she turned her body around in a full circle. “Nope.” She shook her head. “Her car’s right there, though.”
“We’ll wait there then.” Asa shrugged, his eyes following the direction Carmen’s hand was pointing in. “Come on.”
Carmen seemed to hesitate for a second—just a second—before she began walking towards the dark grey vehicle. She looked like she wanted to say something but Asa didn’t push; he didn’t know what pushing was going to achieve this time when it hadn’t worked so well before.
An uncomfortable silence passed before she finally spoke. “You don’t have to…I mean, you can leave you know. It’s—it’s really all right. She’ll be here any minute.”
She wasn’t looking at him though, her eyes fixed on her left foot drawing patterns on the ground, and the only sound filling the space between them was their breaths and the soft crunch of gravel.
“Carmen,” he said carefully. “Look at me.”
Her foot paused in the middle of a pattern and was raised a few inches off the ground. Tilting her head towards him in acknowledgment, but not meeting his eyes yet, she let her foot fall back flat on the gravel.
“Are you not…” The words trailed off Asa’s tongue, slipping back down his throat and choking him. But he ground his teeth together and forced them out. “Are you not comfortable with being alone with me anymore?”
Startled eyes met his, bewilderment flashing through them and the genuine look of shock told him that he was wrong. “No, of course not,” Carmen said incredulously. “Why would you think that?”
Asa opened his mouth to say something, stopped himself, and then sighed. “I don’t know, you seem to be a little off now that we’re not in a crowded place and it’s just the two of us. Or am I just reading too much into things?”
Her eyes left his once again and went back to tracing the invisible patterns her foot began recreating. The sound of gravel crunching filled the distance between them again.
A beat of silence passed. Then another.
Asa didn’t push. He waited.
“I…” Carmen began after a while, pausing to swallow and hesitate. “I don’t want you to have to put yourself through being in my presence out of courtesy. I mean,… waiting here with me is… it’s nice. It’s considerate. But if it’s making you unhappy to be around me, I’ll be safe. Joyce will be he—” Carmen stopped speaking as her eyes seemed to register something in the distance. “Oh, look. She’s already here!”
Asa looked over his shoulder and spotted Joyce walking towards them while talking to another girl, her forefinger wearing the key ring of what was probably her car’s as she kept twirling it in the air. He turned his face around to look at Carmen, a million things running through his head now that his time with her was really coming to an end. With every step Joyce took in their direction, there was another addition to the list of things Asa wanted to suddenly tell her.
Carmen stepped away from him, adding another mile to the space between them.
“Bye, Asa.” She offered him a small smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She took another step back. “I’ll see you around school, maybe.” She tried to widen her smile, but the corners of her lips seemed to wobble and she dropped it, turning her head away and taking another step to open the passenger seat of Joyce’s car.
And the passenger seat in Asa’s truck remained empty.
He turned around, mumbling “Bye” to the spot where she’d been standing just seconds before, and then started making his way towards his truck. He pulled a hand out of his pocket to text Wyatt and Lyra, letting them know that he was heading straight home.
Behind him, he heard the fading voice of Joyce greeting Carmen and then the opening and closing of another door which was probably the driver’s side of the car. And then he heard the engine start.
Asa closed his eyes and shook his head to himself. Tonight wasn’t the right time for them to talk anyway. It was too crowded, too chaotic. It was a freaking school game for heaven’s sake. They would’ve felt rushed and in a hurry to get the conversation over with. They didn’t have the entire night to themselves.
He’d have given her this night though, if she’d only asked.
Asa didn’t hear the sounds behind him until the footsteps had caught up with his, but before he could turn around, a body brushed against his side and a hand was pressed flat against his chest, stopping him in his tracks.
Carmen’s eyes were shut as she inhaled deeply, looking completely out of breath and struggling to regain her composure.
Asa’s eyes widened and his head whipped around to look over his shoulder where he saw Joyce’s car pull out of the parking lot and disappear from view.
After blinking several times like a complete idiot, he turned back to face Carmen. Midnight hair, eyes that reminded him of rainy skies and the occasional skip of his heartbeats. God, it really was her.
“What…what are you doing?” he asked hoarsely, his disbelief ringing clearly throughout his voice.
“You didn’t answer me,” she told him, still sounding a little breathless from running all the way towards him.
“What?” He stared at her.
“I asked you if you were staying by my side out of courtesy and because it was the considerate thing to do,” Carmen explained, referring to when they’d been waiting for Joyce. “And you didn’t tell me that I was right.”
Asa stared at her harder, wondering if she’d truly lost her mind.
“That’s because you weren’t right,” he eventually told her, his shoulders still tensed from the shock of seeing her come back. “You were wrong. I just wanted to spend whatever little time I had left with you. Not because it was the considerate thing to do. I don’t look at you as a burden, Carmen. Never have, never will.”
He watched Carmen swallow, watched her blink a few times and then she let out a short, nervous laugh. “Okay,” she breathed, almost muttering to herself. “Okay, that’s good. I was hoping that was the reason because then… Then it means that you won’t mind giving me a ride back?” She ended it questioningly, almost as if she was afraid to come to conclusions about his feelings for her anymore.
“Why?” He couldn’t help but ask that. He was so confused right now. He didn’t mind, of course he didn’t, but he just couldn’t understand what was going through her head right then.
Carmen smiled at him, but it looked nervous, very unlike the usual steady ones he’d seen her offer him before. “Just…just go with it for now? The small steps first? I, uh, I don’t know how to put it, but—”
There was a sudden flash of lightning, and Asa saw Carmen’s eyes instantly shut. He didn’t react to it though; he was already looking right at the eye of the storm—fallen in love with it even. Then came the ear-splitting crack of thunder, and
with it, the sudden downpour that the past few hours had been showing signs of.
Asa didn’t stop to think twice. He grabbed a hold of Carmen’s arm and began pulling her towards the other end of the parking lot where his truck was, the droplets of water pelting down on them and everyone else who hadn’t left the venue yet.
“It’s just rain,” he heard her say from behind him as he picked up their pace. She sounded like she was smiling.
She really was insane.
“I prefer getting soaked under my shower, not in the middle of a parking lot,” Asa said.
“You’re no fun.” She sighed contently, her words and her tone not at all in sync with one another.
“I don’t want to catch a cold either,” he pointed out.
“Wimp.” Carmen sniffed, and Asa stopped dead in his tracks before turning around to look at her, finding that cheeky twinkle in her eye he hadn’t seen since forever.
“What did you just say?” He snorted, letting out a disbelieving laugh.
“Nothing,” she quickly said, and then nudged his foot with hers. “Don’t you want to keep moving? We’re only getting more soaked.”
“I’m not a wimp,” Asa grumbled under his breath before beginning to walk them towards his truck again.
A part of him wondered if this had to be wrong on some account. If it was even considered normal for the two of them to be able to banter this way after all that remained unspoken between them. After all the pain and the misery that had happened. But Asa also couldn’t deny that it was only so, so natural for them to fall back into step beside each other, in every sense of the way.
He wondered if someone watching from the sidelines would understand, and then he realised it wouldn’t matter if they didn’t. Whatever transpired between Asa and Carmen remained between them, and the rest of the world didn’t get to have a say in it.
Asa stopped in front of his truck, digging the keys from his pocket and hesitating when he was about to unlock the door. The rain didn’t pause along with him; it kept pouring down in torrents, but he didn’t care right then.
“Asa?” Carmen asked with a small frown, looking at him quizzically and blinking away raindrops from her eyes.
He watched her for a moment, just like he had when they’d been making their way to the exit gates. He saw her blink again as a drop of water fell into her eyes; as tiny droplets hung off her dark lashes before they fell onto the curve of her cheek and trailed down her face; and as locks of her hair got plastered to her face, looking like dark brush strokes against a white canvas.
“This doesn’t seem strange to you?” he finally asked, ignoring the rain, ignoring the rest of the goddamn world, ignoring everything that just wasn’t Carmen West.
“What?”
“Us.” He shrugged. “This.” He gestured between them. “I once thought it’d be nearly impossible for us to even be in the same room again. But he we are.”
Carmen smiled softly. “Here we are.”
He took a step closer to her, and Carmen took a surprised one back. He paused in his tracks, forehead creasing at her retreat, before he took another determined step forward so that he was right in front of her. Carmen tried stepping back again, but seemed to realise she couldn’t put any more distance between them when her back hit the surface of his truck.
“Carmen,” Asa said patiently, his eyes not looking away from her face. Stepping even closer, he placed a palm against the vehicle, on the space next to where she was leaning against it, and crouched down slightly to meet her at eye level.
He brought up his left hand to place it next to Carmen’s other side but thought better of it and let it fall back. It was a small gesture, yes, but he hoped she’d see it as him not wanting her to feel trapped or caged-in from both sides, and that he was still offering her a way out if she wanted it.
He had meant it when he said he wanted to be her art journal, and journals were supposed to be a form of liberation, not suffocation—love wasn’t supposed to be an act of suffocation. And he needed to show her that. Even more, Asa needed to show her that he understood that.
“Carmen,” he called again. “Look at me.”
She didn’t seem to acknowledge him right away, but eventually those eyes of hers flickered towards his and standing this close to her, Asa could hear her inhale shakily.
“You keep asking me to look at you,” she said in a hushed breath.
“And you keep avoiding looking me in the eye,” he murmured back.
Asa’s eyes followed a drop of water that slid down the tip of Carmen’s eyebrow and trailed down her temple, before slipping past her shoulder bone and disappearing into the neckline of the jersey she wore.
“You said—” Carmen began speaking but then came to an abrupt stop. Her eyes darted towards the space next to Asa’s right, and then to his left. She was refusing to make eye contact again. The same girl that always had an unwavering ability to look deep into someone’s eyes was now faltering, and that troubled Asa.
“Yeah?” he urged gently, knowing by now that with Carmen, patience was a key factor when trying to communicate with her.
Carmen sighed, shaking her head and lifting a hand to wipe away the raindrops that’d gotten into her eyes. “You said you gave me a loaded gun once.”
Their eyes met for a split second, and then she was averting her gaze again. Asa resisted the urge to take a hold of her chin and turn her face towards his.
“Yes, I did,” he said in a cautious tone, pulling his brows together. “What about it?”
Carmen inhaled deeply, and then let out a heavy, shuddering breath. Her eyes met his again. “You also said you’d be a fool to hand me a second one.” And then she went back to staring at something in the distance or nothing at all in particular.
Asa opened his mouth, about to repeat his earlier question out of confusion but his puzzled state lasted for only a mere heartbeat, before it dissipated and something seemed to dawn on him.
The realisation was watching a sunrise from a hilltop, or witnessing a sunset at a beach, or even laying out on the roof of a car and stargazing, breathtaking at first but too beautiful that it eventually made the heart ache. Because how could such beauty be real?
This time, Asa reached out a shaky hand and placed his fingertips on her chin. “Carmen,” he said softly, and then turned her face to meet his eyes. “Carmen,” he repeated, his breathing still on hold. “Are you trying to tell me you want me to give you that second gun?”
She hadn’t ever explicitly asked him for a second chance, had never really told him she felt enough towards him that she’d genuinely want to try again.
He was too afraid to let himself dare, to let himself hope that perhaps Carmen believed they were worth fighting for.
Asa’s eyes never stopped searching hers, though he couldn’t really tell what it was that he seemed to be looking for. But they looked so vulnerable right then, and it struck Asa that he’d never seen her in such a brutally raw state before, not like this.
“I want…” Carmen paused, swallowed, blinked really hard, and Asa wondered if all the drops of water streaming down her face belonged to the rain and not her own eyes. It was hard to tell. “I want you to give—to give me this one night.” Her tone was cautious, each word dragged out with deliberation and anxiety.
“That’s all I’m asking from you.” She smiled shakily. “This one night from your life, Asa. Let me have it. And whatever I can give you, I’ll give. You asked me to trust you so here’s that trust, take all of it. Take the pieces I’m willing to let you have tonight. And…and after that, after everything’s out in the open, you can leave. If you decide that you’d rather we went our separate ways, then we’ll say goodbye and that will be it, Asa. That’ll be the end of the road for us.”
Carmen pushed herself off the truck and filled whatever space was left between them. “But if you decide to come back to me, if you decide to stay—” Her voice broke and she lifted a trembling hand to brush her cold finge
rtips against the length of his eyebrow. “Then I just want you to know that there’s always a place in my heart and my soul for you.”
Asa’s lips parted with a rushed breath tumbling out, his throat constricting painfully and his eyes feeling like there were a thousand needles stabbing it from the behind.
I’m still in love with you. Six words. How easy it would’ve been to let them fall past his lips. So, so easy.
And yet, Asa resisted. Self-preservation, he reminded himself. He needed to guard his heart, didn’t he? Not bolt it shut permanently, but protect it in what little ways he was capable of. He didn’t have to say the words, but he also owed it to himself to have this conversation, to finally just sit down and fill that distance between them with the words that were never spoken.
“Okay, Carmen,” he said then, a small smile of his own tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Okay.” He breathed, hearing the crack of thunder above them and closing his eyes shut as an unfamiliar feeling flooded through him, offering his body warmth during the heavy downpour.
“Tonight is yours,” he promised, grazing her cheekbone with his thumb. “So take it.”
And for the first time that night, Asa saw some of that storm inside her eyes give away to the calm.
Right then, right there, with the moon as their light and the rain as their only witness, the two of them took that leap of faith towards the idea that maybe, just maybe, it was okay to believe in soulmates.
63.
Through Your Eyes
Rain was still pouring down in torrents when they arrived at Carmen’s house.
Asa killed the truck’s engine, cutting off the usual soft roar of the vehicle and enveloping the two of them with a heavy silence instantly.
Biting the corner of her bottom lip and ignoring the weight of all the unsaid words pressing down on her chest, Carmen glanced at Asa. “Sorry about your truck,” she muttered, referring to both the driver and passenger seats that had absorbed the rainwater from their soaked clothes. “Your seats are ruined.”