2 | act of theft

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When I walk into my first classroom for the day, nobody is there yet. I make my way over to my usual seat and sink down, releasing an uneven breath. I close my eyes.

All I can think about is Liam, and it sucks because even as I had set my mind on moving past him, my heart is clearly still not getting the message. I suck in another breath and hug my arms around myself. The pulling ache in my chest throbs, a remnant of the repercussions of not safeguarding my heart.

I try to focus on his flaws. I find that he does not have any.

The sound of the door opening, makes me peel my eyes open. A headful of ebony dark hair peeks in cautiously. The coffee brown eyes belonging to this head find mine.

"Hi." I say softly.

"Hi." Sheila says back, equally careful as she steps in.

Sheila Takumi is my willowy tall friend, who also happens to be my co-worker. She has the squishiest cheeks, and when she smiles, I swear sometimes I can see a halo floating above her pretty face. She drags over one of the chairs to my table, and straddles it so that she can simultaneously talk to me and rest her chin on the back of the chair.

"My bus was late." she explains.

"That's okay." I reply. I attempt a casual smile. "How was Japan? It looked good."

"How are you holding up?" she asks.

She completely dodges my attempt to change the subject. Her lovely eyes are worried as she studies me. She knows how much Liam meant to me, how I completely broke when I lost him.

"I miss him." I admit guiltily.

Sheila shakes her head at this.

"Oh, Arden." she says.

"I know." I groan out.

"He really isn't worth this." She reaches out to pat my hand. "He doesn't deserve you. I mean it."

"I just need more time." I say, dropping my gaze down.

I hear Sheila sigh.

"Arden, it's been a month." she says gently.

I make a sort of humming affirmation. Considering how badly I had reacted today, I am not too sure the one month actually helped at all. Sheila shuffles forward to put an arm around me. I feel her hand linking with mine, a tender reassurance that she is here. That she's got me.

"Don't worry, time heals all wounds."

The bell rings shrilly. Students begin to trickle into the classroom in small groups. Sheila takes her seat next to mine, and I keep my head down. I try my absolute hardest to discourage my eyes from seeking out Liam, but when he walks in, I swear the pressure in the room lifts or something. I can hear his voice answering a greeting, his laugh as somebody says something, and when I peek up at him, his clear blue eyes do not meet mine.

I duck my head down again. Pathetic.

For the rest of the day, I attempt to distract myself with other things. Sheila does her best to help. She talks more than she normally does, and she engages me in admittedly, fairly one-sided conversations. She pokes fun at some of the freshmen and their dress sense, and gives me long, vivid descriptions of Tokyo night life and their street food stalls. Sheila is familiar and nice, calming to be around. Just her presence is enough to help me to breathe easier. To lose some of the force behind my smiles.

It is after lunch when the real trouble begins.

In our Advanced English class, the seating is divided into clusters of seats, in pairs of two. Liam had previously taken the seat next to mine, but today like all of our other classes together, he moves away and seats himself in his nest of friends.

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