j a i m e e

+

Exhaustion overtakes me as I leave the gym, hitching my bag over my shoulder. A group of people stood midway down the street and, upon hearing the shouting, I moved closer towards them. Immediately, I identify the majority of them as people I went to High School with, people who I hadn't seen in years.

One of the girls turns and looks at me, eyebrows furrowing in recognition before she beckons me over.

"Jaimee Mendoza?" She says, to which I nod. I don't reply as I can't remember anything about her other than her face, and that she was most likely a cheerleader. She walks to meet me and distances herself from the parade of people. "Some of us from High School met up and we saw Nkosi. One of the boys said something about you and now they're fighting."

For fucks sake.

I rush over to the crowd of onlookers, without hesitating, pushing through the dormant bodies until I'm at the front. A harsh echo of a bone breaking echoes throughout the assembly of people as Shayden stands over someone on the floor, who is covered in blood.

Someone tries to push me back but I step forward, shrugging the hand off and fighting the urge to flinch.

"Get up you fucki-" Shayden begins to growl before a crash behind me takes his attention. His eyes find mine instantly, those black eyes widening in surprise, and then regret.

I shake my head at him. Our gazes stay locked as some boy runs past everyone and helps the guy on the ground to his feet, the crowd soon scattering once they realize that no more drama will be happening.

"Are you joking?" I start off, shaking my head in disgust at him. "What are you doing?"

"Ja-"

"What the fuck, Shayden!" Taking the last few steps forward until we're almost chest-to-chest, I push him back. "We aren't kids anymore, you can't go around hitting people without consequences."

"You don't get it." He seethes, stepping forward. "He sai-" He cuts himself off, holding the bridge of his nose between two fingers. My eyes catch the bruises already aligning his knuckles but I try to desperately ignore the sight of them.

"He said what?"

"Said you were a slut."

Wincing, I pull my lip between my teeth. The word never resonated with me before, never bothered me. Girls taunted and slut shamed and guys were just dicks when it came to High School, eventually the insults would be meaningless and I'd just shrug them off. But the events of the last couple of years make that word mean something entirely different to me, and I can no longer act as if it doesn't bother me.

You'd think as we were adults now that some people would grow up.

Disregarding the twisting sensation in my body, I keep my head up and cross my arms over my chest. "Why?"

"We were talking normally about what had gone down since Graduation. He asked about you and I told him we aren't together anymore. He laughed, said I deserved better than some random Mexican slut." Shayden swallowed visibly, wrath flickering through his eyes as he speaks and I know he's getting himself annoyed again. "So I hit him."

"You can't hit everyone who insults me, Shayden." I attempt to reason, "Fuck him, right?"

"I never let anyone insult you when we were kids so why the fuck would I allow it now?"

"Because we're not together?" I deadpan, gnawing on the skin inside my cheek. His forehead furrows as if what I'd said was completely strange.

"So?" He remarks back instantly, "I wouldn't let anybody disrespect Taylor or Libbie in front of me, so why would I let them say anythin' about you?"

I sigh, "It doesn't matter, Shay. See you later."

"Wait," He says, "You're not even going to make sure I get home okay?"

"You're grown, aren't you?" I raise an eyebrow.

"But I'm injured." He whines, holding up his hand dramatically. "You can't expect me to drive with an injured hand."

"Bye," I press, walking away before I have the chance to look back.

When I'm halfway down the sidewalk, I sigh. I suppose I shouldn't just leave him, not after he's just defended me. With a huff, I turn around and start to head back to where he's still stood by his car.

I jolted to a stop when I was finally within talking distance with him, my heart rate immediately picking up as I stared at him. I wasn't even sure he knew I came back, with his eyes glued to his phone that was clutched in one hand, a small trail of smoke drifting up from the cigarette that he held in his other.

Taking a step closer, he tensed but didn't look at me. The slight tilt of his head was the only thing that told me that he knew I was there. I chewed on my lip, regretting changing my mind as his head finally snapped towards me. This time, I averted my gaze as he took another slow drag of the cigarette.

"I didn't know you still smoked." I cringed at my choice of words, cursing myself for my awkwardness.

His lips twitched up as he shrugged, putting his phone into his back pocket. "Four years later an' I'm still trying to quit."

I nodded, watching as he put out the cigarette and put it into a trash can. My eyes skimmed over the rings decorating his fingers, the new and unfamiliar tattoos on his arms that filled the spaces that were empty when I left them.

"I wanted to say thank you..." I muttered, finally lowering my pride. His dark eyes were intense so I tried to focus on something else instead. The loose tee he was wearing, his braided hair that seemed so different from his old curls, the way his jaw was tight in concentration- and suddenly, my mouth was dry. "You didn't need to defend me but you did. I don't want you to think that I'm not grateful- I'll always appreciate you having my back."

"That's what we do, right? Look out for each other?" His eyebrows raised as if daring me to disagree, "He had it coming anyway, was a bastard in High School too."

"I didn't recognize him."

"He used to fuck around with Cameron. Pretty sure they made a vow to fuck all the cheerleaders by the end of Senior Year." Shayden just grunts, hopefully not noticing how I tense at his words. "Never liked the Fucker."

My eyebrows shot up, and the question slipped out of my lips before I could stop it. "Why?"

"Because you can't just treat people like that- like meat. I told Cam countless times that I didn't want him associating with people like that and me. I didn't like how they spoke about the girls or how they treated them, it was weird."

His words eased my nerves slightly but I just shrugged my shoulders, attempting to act as casual as possible. "Let's just go before your knuckles drop off."

+++

We're in Shayden's apartment, talking about something completely random as I make him ice his knuckles. He'd offered me some of his tequila, to which I politely declined, and I could tell the alcohol in his system had made him more carefree.

His laugh decorates the arcane setting and I can't help but keep my eyes engraved on the way his own crinkle at the sides and the way his nose scrunches up so innocently. The sound itself sends butterflies around my stomach, only intensifying the tension between us.

I'm not supposed to feel like this about anyone anymore. I can't.

Keeping my mouth shut as he sobers down, I watch the way his eyes flicker with this sudden realisation that I somehow knew revolves around me.

"I missed this." He says it so softly I almost didn't catch it. His words resonate so deeply within me and I wish I could admit the same to him aloud. But this stupid sense of self doubt stopped me, hindering any types of affection or admissions of weakness.

I just sent him a small smile, standing up from where I was sitting on the floor and go to step away.

Shayden's hand raised and I flinched back so violently that I fell into the table behind me.

"Jai-" He goes to reach out again, stopping only when my entire body stiffens.

My heart races inside my chest and I swear I can feel my throat constricting. Desperately, I try to fight off the panic threatening to overtake me.

He won't hurt me. It's Shayden.

He won't hurt me.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"It's fine." I silence him, "Sorry, I didn't mean to react like-" I stop myself, inhaling and exhaling deeply until the ringing in my head fades slightly.

He turns around, walking into the kitchen side of his apartment and grabs two plates out of the cupboard and puts them on the kitchen side. "It's fine, I'll make us something to eat and then we can have a catch up."

"I've got work tomorrow, Shayden. I need to go home."

"Can't you just stay for an hour?" He says as if me needing to leave is the most ridiculous thing in the world. "I've not spoken to you in years. Can't we sit, as friends, and speak about how we've been? You seem to forget that our friendship existed long before our relationship."

His words hurt differently and I fight heart and soul to not break down right in front of him, beg him for his forgiveness. Tell him how sorry I am, how I'll never not regret how I treated him and what I did. Even though it wasn't my solely fault.

He deserves better than me; he deserves better than having to cope with all my ripped edges.

I swallow the lump of anxiety etched within my throat, blinking back the slight sting of fluid in my eyes. Despite the ache in my heart, I level my stare with his. "Don't do this, Shayden. Please. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

He ignores the way my voice shatters into tiny, minuscule pieces and shakes his head. That sexy, determined shimmer within his irises is there, the one that usually makes my panties wet at the touch. But right now, I don't want to see it. I don't want to look at him.

"I'm not going to do that, Jaimee. It was me and you, right? Forever." His voice is gruff and confident, yet I almost can't catch his words as the sky outside rumbles. "You're not leaving until you admit it."

"Shay-" I started but he cuts me off with a callous snark, his chest vibrating with the low snarl.

"No." He brings his face closer to mine, his breath tickling my neck as he starts to nip on my earlobe. "You ain't runnin' away from this, from us. Not anymore, love."

I inhale sharply, placing both my hands on his chest and pushing him away. "There is no 'us' anymore. That ship sailed a long time ago. You need to walk away."

His eyes are blazed with pain and rage, the slight narrow in the corner of his eyes prominent compared to his otherwise flawless features. It doesn't escape my notice how his gaze keeps wandering to my bare neck where our locket used to sit. The locket that I told him I destroyed, the same one that was hidden in my bedside stand.

"You want this." His hand slips up, skimming over the exposed area of skin where the locket used to rest. I tense. "What changed between us? At least tell me that."

'You want me. I know you do, I've seen how you've been looking at me all night. Why are you crying?'

"I thought you wanted us to be friends." My words come out as a whisper, I bite my lip to stop it from shaking.

"How can I be just friends with the girl that I'm in love with?" He answers back instantly, words almost as quiet at mine.

He tucked a piece of my hair behind my ear. A wave of confidence and desire shot through me and I bunched his shirt up in my fist, barely having time to breathe as his lips were on mine. He tasted like tequila and mint. Just as always. I didn't mind the reminder. Not when his hand found its way to the base of my neck, tangling itself within the curls of my hair, or when his lips parted and tongue darted into my mouth. His other hand went to my hips and he lifted me up, with almost no effort, and placed me on the kitchen counter. Shayden stood between my legs, using his hand in my hair to guide our faces and our body's closer together. A voice in the back of my brain told me to stop, but it was overpowered easily by the smell of his skin and the pressure of his touch.

Shayden always made it hard to think.

He tasted like joy, making it hard to breathe in a beautifully terrifying way. The torturous sensation buzzed right through me, I almost forgot the reason why I hadn't kissed anyone since before.

Shayden pulls away first, moving back once he sees the fluid forming in my eyes. Fuck. I push away, moving towards the exit when he calls my name once more. By this point, tears are streaming down my face and every part of my body hurts.

He took a step towards me but stopped when I moved back.

"Mendoza?" His brow furrowed, "Don't."

"Please leave me alone, Shayden." I whispered brokenly.

He shook his head, standing his ground. "You're not going anywhere."

"I don't want to be here."

"I don't care."

Growing frustrated at his ability to be stubborn, my head snapped up and I glared at him. "I want you to leave me alone. Whatever is happening between us needs to stop."

"No."

He stepped forward again, my hands instinctively came up and pushed him back.

"You don't get to do this." I shout, "I left for a reason. You don't get to tell me what I can and can't do- You don't know me anymore!"

Shayden stays silent at my words so, before I can hesitate, I turn around and grab the door handle with every intention of leaving and never coming back.

"Your favorite flower is a wildflower."

My grip on the handle tightens but I pause, tensing at Shayden's soft words.

"Your favorite flower is a wildflower, because they remind you of your Mom. She used to tell you stories about how they grew near to her school in Jamaica. It reminded her of home and, ultimately, reminded you of her. You hate Mexican food, aside from Enchiladas, and you always swore you'd never tell your Dad because he'd disown you. You love books, especially feminist literature and you would spend hours searching through Tumblr getting more and more annoyed with every injustice in the world. You hate dark chocolate because it's bitter- you always bullied Remi because it was all he would eat for years. You never knew how to dance, I didn't know either, so your Dad spent every night for three weeks teaching us before Homecoming. We didn't end up going that Year because you decided you wanted a burger instead, so we got food and found our spot. We didn't get home until like 3am." His voice is thick with emotion, "You might think I don't know you, but I remember everything about you."

I closed my eyes, shaking my head at myself as I turned back around. His eyes were already on me and it hurt to think about just how different we were.

"I still can't dance." I eventually mutter.

"Neither can I." He held his hand out expectantly, chuckling as I blinked at him.

Something took over me and my entire stance against us being near each other folded as I took his hand. He brought my hands up to his shoulders as he found my waist, and then he started to move. We glided across his living room floor, never breaking eye contact.

His raven eyes drew me in. In that moment, all I felt was peace. Shayden always protected me- he was my safe haven.

And in that moment, we were one and I was safe.