History Always Repeats Itself

Chapter 6

"Aria?"

Hearing him say my name was enough to make the room start spinning. I felt sick, "Fuck... I'm-I'm sorry this was a mistake."

"No, wait. Please, just let me... let me tell you everything. I need to tell you everything."

I could barely breathe, let alone talk, and making the slightest sound took effort, "Okay," I whispered, so softly that even I had trouble hearing it.

"I can't do this over the phone. I need to see you, Aria. Can we go somewhere? Please, I just," his voice dropped as if he were going to cry, "Aria..."

I knew after everything I'd been through that being alone with him was a terrible idea, if not the worst, but if Hanna was right then I needed to give him the chance, "Where?" My voice, slightly less timid, was still barely audible.

He sounded relieved, "Can you meet me outside class?"

The door started to open and Sam peeked her head in, "Sure," I said quickly, hanging up as she made her way in.

"That your folks?" she asked, picking up a magazine off the desk and flopping onto her bed.

"Yeah," I threw a sweatshirt over my head and slipped my phone into the back pocket of my shorts, "I'll be back in a few hours."

Her eyes stayed on whatever she was reading, "Hey what was up with you at lunch today? You've been acting weird all morning."

I reached for the door, "I'm just tired."

"Going to see Tony?" she said, lifting her head up.

"Uh huh," I said as I walked out.

I soon regretted the lie, knowing that somehow it would come back to haunt me. They always did.

I turned the corner of the building and saw him with his back leaning against the wall. His foot was propped up as he checked his phone, occasionally glancing up to see if I had arrived. He was wearing what seemed to be the same ragged pair of jeans that he owned in Rosewood, accompanied by a deep red t-shirt that, judging by the condition, must have been old as well. His hair was still styled from this morning's class, and he had the slightest hint of stubble around his chin. I stood there watching him, rethinking whether or not to go through with this, but before I could make up my mind he lifted his head and smiled. I considered running away, not very classy but at least I wouldn't have to talk to him, but Hanna's voice was pushing me to walk towards him. I prepared myself for whatever awful breathtaking experience that was about to follow and walked forward as he placed his phone inside his bag. The messenger bag sat on his shoulder, the strap held on by duct tape and safety pins, and the majority of the leather so faded that you'd think the bag came in a color like that. I found it hard to believe that he wouldn't just throw the damn thing out, a lot of his things out actually, but that was one of the things I loved about him. Ezra never gave up on anything, no matter how broken and beyond repair, he always tried to fix it. As he lowered his foot from the wall his sneaker left a small black scuff mark, at least those were new. He greeted me with his signature smile, the kind of smile that makes you feel like everything will be okay, and without thinking, I smiled back.

"Aria," he said, with the same soft tone I had heard over the phone.

I waited for the lump to form in my throat or for my head to start spinning, but nothing happened, "Hi."

Everything about this was strange. Since seeing him in the coffee shop, even the slightest thought about Ezra would make me nauseous. Was I supposed to believe that after one conversation on the phone I could feel completely fine around him? Being with him felt so natural, like nothing bad had ever happened between us. If someone looked our way they would see two life-long friends, not a heartbroken girl and the man who tore her apart.