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Eight Weeks: Chapter 15

Sofia

“but I got you this rose / and I need to know / will you let it die or let it grow?”—Roses by Shawn Mendes

 

Aaron and I don’t speak for the rest drive over to Wesley Hills after my comment.

I don’t expect him to say something. It was a mean thing to say, though, was I that far off?

It’s embarrassing enough that he caught me wearing the necklace, even if I was hoping he’d see it. I didn’t expect him to want to talk to me about it. I suppose it does make sense.

Aaron is right, it’s a necklace one wouldn’t just wear for nothing. And I didn’t wear it for nothing. I wanted to see if he would react to it. He did, and I all but almost insulted him for it.

I panicked, okay?

If he finds out I was still holding on to his promise for far too many years, this is going to get really embarrassing for me.

As soon as we reach my aunt’s house, I’m ready to sprint out of the car. Unfortunately for me, Aaron is keeping the doors locked.

I decide to look at him, see what is keeping him from unlocking the doors only to find him staring at his mother’s house. It seems as though he’s stuck in his head, and from the way his hands clench into fists, I doubt he’s thinking about anything good.

I’m about to reach my hand over to his when my phone chimes.

Aaron’s eyes snap over to the phone in my hands, yet all I can focus on are his green ones. The same I used to think about when I felt lonely and needed to escape my reality.

I always wondered what he would look like when he was older. I expected a chiseled jaw, though the same noodle-arms he had back when we were eight. I guess I didn’t think he could ever manage to get some muscles, but boy was I wrong.

Sometimes, I even wondered if he would dye his hair, go dark and try a new look. I can’t be sure he has tried, but he doesn’t have dark hair now, so if he did, it is grown out by now.

I was wondering if he’d grow a beard to look like his father or if he would shave it all to have smooth skin. I would wonder if he had a lot of admirers, if he admired other’s as much as I did him.

Did he ever pursue his dreams or is at least trying to get there?

I would wonder if Aaron ever thought about me. Was he missing me as much as I missed him? Maybe he was even imagining us in a field of flowers together, holding hands, talking for hours on end while I could smell his sweet scent and he could smell whatever I would smell like, just like I did.

On rare occasions, I even allowed myself to imagine his voice; would he sound like his father, have a very deep voice with a slight smoky rasp in it, or would it stay pure, only a slight octave deeper?

Aaron is nothing like I imagined he would be, and yet he is everything I could ever picture.

He is tall, muscular. His voice isn’t too deep, but it also didn’t stay that high. He doesn’t smell sweet, but he smells like soap, musk, and a slight hint of cinnamon. Aaron doesn’t grow out his beard, he shaves. He is trying to achieve his dreams, become a pro athlete. I’ve never been prouder of anyone ever before.

Stop thinking about Aaron, Sofia!

Almost to impossible when he sits right next to me. And when I sit in his car. The very car that smells more like him than I remember.

In hopes to distract myself, I take a glance at my phone, praying someone is coming for my rescue.

 

Lukas: I have an update for you. Leon is proposing on your birthday!

 

Lukas: During dinner, I believe. Perfect to let everyone forget you exist.

 

Just fucking great.

“Who is Leon?” Aaron asks, not even seeming to be ashamed to have read my text.

“A prick that loves to ruin my life.” My eyes slowly wander up Aaron’s body before they meet his. “He’s my ex-boyfriend. Cheated on me with my own sister. He’s planning on proposing to her on Christmas Eve. Most definitely just to ruin my life even more.”

“How so?”

I let a chuckle slip out of my throat. “I live in a small village. Word gets around easily. The people there know I’ve been cheated on, but according to them, it was meant to be because Leon and Julia were destined for one another. I wasn’t sad about Leon and my breakup, and he is pissed because of it. Ever since then, every single one of my birthdays, he makes sure to do anything to ruin my night.”

And it’s not a lie. Last year, Leon gifted my sister a trip all throughout Europe for two whole months. And guess why? Right, because my birthday then no longer mattered since my sister received such a great gift. It was all my family talked about; my birthday long forgotten.

“He’s not a prick, Icicle. He’s far worse. Who even does that?” Aaron speaks through gritted teeth, his jaw clenching like the thought of Leon doing me wrong irks him. Perhaps it does, but I won’t get my hopes up too much.

What hopes, Sofia? I am not allowed to have hopes. Not with Aaron. It’s just going to rip open wounds I barely even closed.

I shrug. “It’s not that big of a deal. I didn’t plan on going home for the holidays anyway. Now I have an actual reason not to go.”

Aaron shakes his head. “Take me with you. I need to talk to this Leon. I need to feed him my fists or something. How fucking stupid can someone be?” Aaron reaches for his steering wheel, clenching his hands around it like he might beat whoever comes across him next if he didn’t. “Swear to God, Sofia, if I was him, I would have worshipped the ground you were walking on. Hell, I would have even gone to a flower shop to get you these awful wisteria-colored flowers you love so much, daily.

I’m praying he said all this just to get a reaction, not because he truly feels that way. My heart wouldn’t be able to take it if he meant it.

I can’t let emotions show, not the ones he might want to see. What I can do, however, is react to the flower comment. I know exactly which ones he is talking about. “Lilacs?”

“Is that what they’re called?”

I nod, keeping a slight smile on my face.

Aaron always made fun of me for liking them, or even liking the color. Even though I’m still convinced it’s just a light purple, lilac, if you will, whereas he insists the color is called “wisteria”. I can’t believe he still insists on it.

“Yeah, Nix. That’s what the flower is called.” I chuckle softly, then feel the sudden need to address his offer. “You don’t have to come to Germany with me. I’ll be fine. I’ll stay here and study.”

“No. We’re going to Germany together. It’s about time I reconnect with my in-laws.”


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