Complicity [h.s]

49

PART 1 OF THE DOUBLE UPDATE

Aven Brooks

To be a misunderstood girl—a tragic thing.

I always felt misunderstood in small ways; ways I can barely remember now because it was a lifetime ago. But if I think hard enough, I can recall a time when I was eight and refused to go on a bike ride with my friends. I never learned because I was scared. I lost all those friends that summer because they thought I was being a 'little girl' about it, even though that's what we were—little girls.

When I was in high school, my ex-boyfriend loved to tell me I was too emotional at the times I actually told him how I felt. Because for society, being a girl and feeling was wrong.

I spent much of my teen years suppressing my emotions in order to be loved by those around me. I invalidated myself whenever I was upset or angry because I believed I would be valued more if I swallowed it all. I fell into a mindset that my downbeat emotions were too selfish to express. Over time, I knew it was a problem, but it's so hard to change sometimes. I had dreams for my twenties that I'd be owning better acceptance and appreciation for my emotions—that the things I feel are valid and shouldn't depict my worth. I wanted to be confident and independent and express myself with every high and low.

But as my twenties came, I lost it all. Not only did I lose the momentum of expressing my negative emotions, but I also lost the ability to express my positive ones too. And now, I don't know if I'll ever be in a place to get them back.

But like I said—it's not that I ever think about this stuff anyway.

My door opens with a small knock, Zayn standing with a causal lean in the doorway.

"Hey,"

I look back at my vanity mirror and keep brushing my hair.

"You're never here at this time," I mumble, knowing it was noon on a Wednesday. Every Wednesday, if there's nothing already planned, he leaves for a couple of hours. I've never asked about it, but it's not that I needed to.

"I'm just about to head out," he nods. "Your parents are getting ready to leave for Vegas, but your dinner with them in the city is still on for tonight."

I nod.

"I want you to come on a drive with me. We have a bunch of things to go over for when they're gone."

Another drive? How dumb does he think I am?

"Why can't we talk about it here?"

"I'm not tricking you this time." He reassures. "Just come meet me in the car."

He shuts the door before I have a chance to fight anymore. My eyes shut in defeat. The last time we went on a spontaneous drive was the night I had to break things off with Harry. I don't trust that he doesn't have anything else up his sleeve. The hard thing is, it's not like I have a choice but to just go along with it.

I grab my coat and trail my way through the estate until I'm out front, where his car is waiting. It's not a convertible this time; it's a black Audi with tinted windows. Silently, I get in and face away from him.

I've been civil with Zayn because I have to be, but it doesn't mean we're on great terms. I haven't been on great terms with anyone, really. I've been so in my head these last few weeks. Time has just gone by so slowly since the last time I saw Harry. It's been about two weeks since we were on the roof. I haven't tried going back, nor has he come here.

Zayn drives out of the estate without a word.

I don't bother with the radio this time; I just want the silence. Becoming one with the silence is something I've gotten very good at recently. I used to crave the noise, but now I want the scraps of rawness that come with the silence. I want to sink with it.