Brighter Places [🗸]

18. i should apologize more

It's hard to slow my breathing when I make my way down the hallway, coming to a slow stop as I try to calm the anxiety swirling to the surface.

Because he's there. Lucas. He's a few feet away from his locker, bottom lip pulled beneath his teeth, eyes almost glazed over as he holds all his things to his chest. He runs a hand through his hair. Somehow, the movement tugs at my chest.

Go fucking talk to him, Jason.

It should be simple. 

It isn't. 

Because any oxygen is sucked out of my lungs when my eyes find him. I inhale, slowly, deeply. Exhale.

My shoulders sag as I roll them back, eyes carefully tracing over Lucas. My feet move, approaching him. My backpack swings behind me and my lips purse as I try to prevent my hands from shaking.

I can tell when he sees me. He hovers in spot, still holding his folders to his chest. He turns in my general direction but his eyes don't meet mine, they just stay distracted, flitting from locker to locker.

But he doesn't move, doesn't glare, so I continue to make my way over to him.

"Can I talk to you?" The question escapes my lips as soon as I'm only a couple of feet away from him. He still doesn't look at me, and I can't pretend it doesn't sting. Reaching out a hand, I stop once my hand's just inches away from his arm. 

Settling with an awkward tap, I gently guide Lucas away, right off to the side of the lockers, light dancing over his face, his gaze staying somewhere far away from me. My hands shake, because fuck, I have no idea what to say. Lucas sucks in a breath.

And that's one sign that I'm not completely dead to him. Not yet. 

"About Iridescence," I start, my arms swinging back and forth, almost like a strained attempt to calm myself the fuck down. Which is easier said than done. My hands run through my hair, again and again. Why is this so hard to do?

Lucas listens. No cold remarks, no anger etched into his features, no visible annoyance. And somehow, I can breathe a little more. Just a little. 

"I, uh, live with a guardian. One of many that I've had because my parents kind of," nervous laugh, "fell off the grid."

Lucas holds his folders to his chest almost tighter, too-big eyes already widening.

I continue, gaze drifting to the floor. "And uh, she's not the greatest as a person. The night of Iridescence, she wouldn't let me go."

I shift my weight from foot to foot, keeping my eyes off of Lucas. "She had me clean the entire house. You know, like Cinderella shit." It's a weak attempt at humor, and silence fills the air.

Lucas lets out a shaky breath, eyes almost widening further. A soft part of his lips.

"Personally, I think it was because she was in a shit mood or something." I'm rambling. "And she told me that she'd dump me back into the system, you know, if I tried leaving."