Acumen: Riddling Life

31. Guilt [Adrien's POV]

I remember the first time I saw her.

We were classmates from fourth grade, but in the second period of our first day of freshman year, in math class, I perceived her for the first time. Something about Eleanor had changed. Maybe because of officially being high school students, or because she appeared so different from every other girl.

We were sitting in the first row. Our teacher knew both of us, thanks to older siblings. He was droning on about a problem, and Eleanor was reading her notebook. The asshole all the teachers are, he picked on her, with the usual why aren't you paying attention shit. Etched in my memory like it happened yesterday, she stared at him with a blank expression, glanced at the board. I swear it took her only a moment before telling the right answer.

The teacher's face was priceless! And since they can't stand these sorts of stuff. He challenged her to a new question. After writing it, which I had seen in Jay's textbooks, Eleanor surveyed it for thirty seconds, to the point where he began saying, 'seems you don't know much, after all'. And she announced the final and correct answer. That shut him up.

That's when I first recognized her as more than just a studious girl.

She was wearing a white shirt, with the same glasses she uses now, round with a rectangle attached to the corner of each side, highlighting her upturned almond-shaped eyes. They gleamed with the spark they had whenever she solved a math or physics question. Grey, similar to the clouds left behind after hours of raining.

That day, after getting home, I tried to draw her eyes for the first time.

I take a swig from the vodka bottle I brought with myself; it burns my throat as it travels down. I stare at the swimming pool, unable to stop my mind from wandering back to Eleanor.

Today her eyes shone too, but not because of solving a hard equation but with a coat of tear. I swallow another mouthful of the liquor.

Her words are still cutting me from the inside, punching me, shredding my heart, and clawing my organs.

It's one of the worst feelings I've ever been through.

Today, I had the impression I'm seeing Eleanor for the first time again.

She looked at me as she accused me of breaking her. Her grey eyes had a hint of blue in them, reflecting her light blue shirt. Making her delicate yet broken.

I broke her.

I, who couldn't think straight when that drunk dude last night got near her. It didn't matter he was twice my size, I would have punched and fought him with all my power even if he was ten times bigger than me. To keep her safe. Physically. Unaware I've done more damage than any physical harm is capable of ever causing.

How can I fight myself?

I was so selfish, yet while she spoke, she kept saying she understood me.

My heart aches and breaks, just by thinking about it. I stare at my bruised knuckles before I gulp down the liquor, hoping it would chase away her face and thoughts out of my mind and drown the guilt. To give me peace for a few hours. The wine bottle I downed after talking to her didn't, nor did the following beer. This half-full vodka is all my hope now.

I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.

I was so ashamed, I couldn't meet her gaze, or bring myself to apologize to her. Not that it would fix anything.

Depression. Anxiety. I brought them on her!

How does she even stand me?

I press the bottle to my lips.