picture: august slipped away

twelve

"It'll be nineteen point eight-nine."

She hurriedly placed a twenty dollar bill on the counter, nodding at the cashier to keep the change and ran out. Betty's heart was beating frantically and she loathed this reaction out of her. But she couldn't help it, no matter how hard she tried. She clutched her grocery bag, scanning left and right at the almost-empty hallways of the mall, desperate to get a glimpse of what she thought was James' shadow.

She saw a silhouette in her periphery, that she thought walked a little like him, moved a little like him. She was lost amongst the tangled threads of her mind to really pay attention. But her eyes had widened once she realized. And to her dismay, the cashier took her sweet time packing up the grocery. Now, standing here abandoned with the ghosts of her visions, she started to doubt herself.

It had been two weeks since James crashed her party, and she hadn't seen or heard from him since. That was unexpected. She wanted him to keep trying. She wanted him to learn to apologize better. She knew she was worth at least that much. But it was starting to seem that James had given up on her completely. For better or worse, Betty didn't dare find out.

With her sunken heart, she proceeded to walk back to her car when she saw someone else, stopping in her tracks. Betty blinked twice this time, just in case she started hallucinating like a crazy person, but sure enough, the girl still remained seated in the mall café.

Frozen to her spot, Betty took a moment to observe August. She was sketching, her hand moving back and forth in neat, confident strikes. Her eyes were focused on the paper, her posture relaxed and welcoming, a hint of a smile on her lips. Betty realized she looked professional and casual at the same time, which was hell of a trait. She caught herself being transfixed to her, unable to take her eyes off her.

Betty fisted her hand slowly and released the tension building up inside her. She mentally debated her next move for precisely seven seconds, but her legs automatically moved towards the small café, the strong scent of caffeine hitting her instantly. She didn't know what she planned on doing once she reached her table, but guessed she was about to find out.

August heard the slow footsteps before she saw her. To say she was taken by surprise would be an understatement. Standing next to her table in a fashionably cute top and skirt, was Betty. And from the looks of it, she was surprised by her own gesture as well. August's hand immediately stopped sketching. Closing the book, she tightened the grip on her charcoal pencil. Her eyes looked at Betty questioningly, who made no attempts to talk to her. They stared at each other for an uncomfortable amount of time when Betty cleared her throat awkwardly.

"Cute chain," Betty gestured to the small sun pendant around August's neck.

August was terrified, of course. The whole situation was bizarre. "Um, thanks."

Betty was visibly choosing what to do next. She had two options: turn away and run as fast as she can to the ends of the world and never think of this embarrassing moment, or sit down with her and talk like she was dying to. Taking a deep breath, she pushed a curl behind her shoulder, walking the two dreadful steps to the chair across her.

"You're expecting company?"

"Oh, no." August chuckled, as if the idea of company was amusing. "Definitely not."

"Mind if I..?" Betty made sure she conveyed the underlying message. For them to talk about what had happened.

"Um, no." August shrugged her shoulders slightly.

Settling her grocery bag beside the table, Betty slipped into the chair with slow careful movements. August watched her with eyes full of curiosity. When neither of them spoke again, Betty shifted a little and dreaded the situation.

"So," she started, unsure, "How've you been?"

August made a sound between a scoff and a chuckle, just slightly. "I've been better. All things considered."

"Right."

August sighed heavily. At this pace, they both would stay here forever, with unsaid words packed in a balloon, waiting to be burst but petrified of the blow. August popped that balloon with one blatant question.

"What are you doing here, Betty?"

Betty was taken aback by the tone of her voice, but composed herself quickly. She understood then, that this harshness was August's defense mechanism. She planned on crumbling it down.

"Honestly, I don't have a clue either." Betty admitted the truth, "I saw you sitting by yourself and, um, just thought we could talk."

"Why would you wanna talk to me?" August fidgeted with her pencil, "Don't you resent me to death?"

"I should. But I don't actually." Betty didn't miss a beat answering her, "Can't figure out why. Thought you could help."

August couldn't quite possibly know how she could've helped Betty when her own heart had been damaged to pieces. Still, keeping that aside, she studied the desperate tone in Betty's words. The way her eyes shifted to her sketchbook every now and then. The amount of selflessness and courage it took for her to confront her.

August had heard about the awful birthday party Betty had recently and it killed her just the same. But sitting across her now, practically feeling every bit of pain coursing through her, August crumbled.

She loathed herself for playing her part in Betty's pain.

"Betty. I- I'm sorry." She said finally, "I obviously didn't think about the consequences when I ...did what I did. I was irrevocably blinded."

"It's not your fault," Betty replied instantly, shaking her head a little.

"It's not?! How can you say that?" August was baffled. She concluded that Betty was absolutely crazy. No one in her position would have said what she did.

"He wouldn't have done it if he really loved me." She smiled a heartbreaking smile at her, "It was his choice."

"Even then. There must be a part of you that blames me."

Betty only shrugged, denying. Her curiosity with August's drawings won and she pointed to her sketchbook. "Do you mind if I have a look? I understand if it's personal."

August knew it was coming. Her sketches were nothing, if not personal. Especially this one. But one more second on that thought and she realized that she had no control over what was hers and what was not. All her life, she thought she did. But one summer proved it wrong.

"No. Go ahead."

August watched Betty's reaction to her drawings curiously. Her drawings of James. Betty slipped the book to her side and flipped it open. An involuntary shaky breath left her before she could control it. It was a picture of him leaning next to a saloon car, one hand in his hair and the smile she had memorized. She quickly glanced up at August in awe, flipping through the others one by one.

"These are beautiful." It wouldn't matter if Betty admitted that or not. It was the truth, but she wanted to tell her. "I've obviously seen your work before at school, during exhibitions and stuff. But this- you're amazing."

She looked at more sketches - James on a couch, James with his skateboard, James drinking wine, James, James, James. They were drawn to such perfection that it slipped from Betty's mind to envy her.

The last sketch was a different one compared to the rest. It was James, of course, but not his face. He was lying on a bed, his bare back to the view. August had drawn the curves of his shoulder-blades and muscles flawlessly. His lower half was draped with a loose bedsheet. His hair was sticking up messily - just as she remembered. Betty trailed a finger over the sleek lines, feeling the rough charcoal under her skin. A window next to the bed was open, sunshine seeping in through right onto James' skin. It illuminated him.

It was the only sketch signed with August's name below.

"That one was supposed to be a painting," she commented. "But I decided against it."

Betty understood the underlying message.

"You loved him, didn't you?" She whispered.

"Since freshman year."

"What?!" Betty looked up shocked. "How? How is that possible?"

August gulped. She had never shared this story with anyone before. But she had been doing a lot of unexpected things lately.

"I saw him for the first time during the first week. I was late for school, and by the time I came, the hallways were empty. I was rushing for class when I heard him. He skated through the entrance 'cause he was late as well. I didn't know what love felt like back then, but in that moment, I knew one thing like the back of my hand. I would have done anything for this boy. He was irresistibly charming. He walked up to me and made a joke about earning detention together. And I fell for him. Right then and there. Hard and fast."

"Why didn't you do anything about it?"

"I don't know. I didn't think he would ever like me. And I was terrified of confrontation." The way August spoke of him, Betty believed without a doubt she would have died for James. "Besides, after a year, he started dating you."

"Wow. You must have resented me then."

August grinned. "I should have. But I didn't," She repeated Betty's statement from earlier. "I admired you."

Her confession left Betty speechless for a while. She didn't think August slept with James out of spite or a fling. But she also didn't think she was in love with him as well. This information changes a lot of things from her perspective.

Betty went through the pages of the sketchbook again, noticing details she hadn't in the first glance. At the very last page was an incomplete sketch - the one she was working on when Betty interrupted her. The outlines were hard enough for her to understand the picture it would be.

It was divided into two frames. Both of them of a dock in front of a calm river. A girl was standing on the dock in the first frame, and sitting in the second. Her arms were wrapped around herself. The message was crystal clear to Betty.

Solitude.

The girl was August.

Betty didn't comment on it. Instead, she flipped back a few sheets. "Did you ever show him these?"

"Most of them, yeah."

"And what did he say?"

August shrugged nonchalantly, but Betty could tell it was forced. "He said they were cute."

"Cute? Huh." Betty scoffed. "That word doesn't even begin to describe these drawings."

August couldn't help but smile in agreement. "He never had an eye for art."

"No, he didn't." Betty returned a half smile. "How did you meet him this time?"

"We first spoke at the prom. I saw him running out of the gym frantically and I followed him. He was on the ground, head in his hands. He almost cried." August recalled that fateful night which led to an unforgettable lesson. "I don't know where I got the courage from, but I wanted to help him. He looked beaten in pain and it broke my heart. We went back inside and we talked. But he took after you soon."

"Do you know why?"

August nodded. "He told me everything two weeks later. That he saw you dancing with your ex-boyfriend and lost it. That you broke up."

Betty's eyes widened in horror. "He told you that we broke up?"

"Yeah. The night of the prom."

"Oh my God." Betty pushed her face into her palms, exasperated.

"But you didn't right? That's why people have been saying that."

"I- no." She shook her head in disbelief. "We had a fight and it was really harsh. We didn't talk after that night. We both were mad at each other and I left for the summer. But we didn't officially call it quits."

James' story was pretty much along the same lines but he had wanted to run away from it all.

"He said he wanted it." August voiced her thoughts, "Needed it."

"What?"

"Me." August admitted, underestimating the relief it brought her. "Like a distraction, a rebound."

"And you let yourself?" Betty's voice was so soft, she almost thought she was talking to a best friend.

"I loved him, Betty. I would have done anything for him."

"But he cheated on you, too."

August smiled sadly. "Because I was too blind in his love. I raised him to a pedestal he didn't deserve to be put on. And that's all on me. I'm to blame."

"So you regret it?"

"Regret the summer?" August laughed humourlessly, "God, no."

Betty raised an eyebrow.

"Look, I'm deeply sorry for what it meant for you. You know I am. But apart from that? Not at all. It was everything I have ever wanted. And now, the flashes never leave. Everything is still lost in my memories - sipping wine, lazy days near the lakes, drawing him, laughing with him. Even though now it is something I would never do again, I wouldn't change a single thing about it. Tell me, Betty. Do you hate him?"

"I- "

"Think and tell."

Betty pondered over her words. The truth of what she admitted weighed her down. The flashes never leave. She should know that. She was chasing his shadow from a grocery line not half an hour ago.

"I don't think I could ever hate him. He meant too much to me at one point of time - even now, maybe - and I can't throw all that away. That's not love."

"Exactly."

"I remember our good times way too often and I know that he loved me. He loved me enough to get jealous of other boys and feel protective of me. Though that's not ideal, it was his way of loving."

August couldn't believe it was her who Betty finally confided in. She could see it was haunting the depths of her mind and she found a release in her. Maybe, after everything was over, they could even be friends. Maybe.

"But sometimes, people do wrong. And you may never forgive them for it, but you can't hate them either."

"I guess you're right. I guess we both lost him."

"Betty," August shook her head and locked her eyes with her, "He lost us."

Betty stared long and hard into her eyes. She tried to control it but they filled with tears. She furiously rubbed the heel of her palm over them, hating herself for losing composure in front of her. She couldn't cry here. Not now.

But when a soft hand squeezed her shoulder, she was surprised to meet August's warm gaze. Now, Betty also knew, if there was anyone who understood her pain, it was her. And she found comfort in the thought that she wasn't alone anymore.

~•~