Chapter XXII

Nico’s POV

Where was she?

That single question repeated itself like an echo in my head as I scrutinized the school’s surroundings. Though I didn’t find her, I did spot Elisa walking up the sidewalk with... my brother?!?!

“Elisa!” I yell and catch up to them.

They both turn at the sound of my voice.

“Nico,” Andy spoke first, “Perfect timing, could you bring the car around, so we can go to Leon’s store?”

“Leon’s?” I recite questioningly.

He smiles and replies, “Elisa hasn’t yet picked out a dress for the dance, so I offered to help her choose one.”

Understanding, I nod and turn to Elisa, “Have you seen your sister?”

She flinches faintly but says she hasn’t.

I then retrieve the silver peugeot and drop them at the clothing shop, all the while figuring out the different possibilities where she could be. As I drove along I spot Leon’s black mercedes on its way to the shop.

I honked and he notices me and pulls over.

“Hello Nico,” he greets.

“Hey Leon; has Esteire by chance ever come to your store for a dress?”

“For the dance?” he guesses, raising an eyebrow.

Elisa going to the store made me wonder if she remembered the dance as well.

I nod and he answers, “No, but if you’re wondering where she is, she’s at my house with Lucien.”

“Wha-what?” I stutter, shocked.

He starts to say something else, but before I hear his words I speed off in the direction of his house. Once I arrive I slam the car door shut without bothering to lock it and storm inside. There was no one in the entrance hall or living room, or anywhere on the first floor. So, I started for the stairs.

First room.

No one.

Second room.

No one.

Third room.

Skipped, the door was open.

Fourth room.

The door was also open.

It was was no different from the last room, illuminated only by natural light, yet I felt a strange presence in here. Debating on whether I should enter, I strained my eyes and surveyed the room.

It was so still; there wasn’t even a sound of breathing.

I take a step forward and...

“Lucien?!”

My voice cracks unintentionally.

He was on the covers, lying on top of Esteire. Gravity seemed to yank my jaw loose as I gaped at the very sight of it. Though really, it was only his head as they both were horizontal to the bed with their legs off on the side.

Simultaneously they got up and stood facing me.

“Nico,” he simply says.

I was speechless; my brain was totally devoid of thought with only the emotions of surprise combined with disbelief.

Once I regained consciousness, I managed to sputter out, “And here I was looking for you to tell you how I felt.”

Today was the day I decided to express my feelings to Esteire and instead I find Lucien with her.

Neither spoke as neither knew what to say. So, I continued.

“Do you remember when I asked you to the dance? Instead of responding, you asked if I liked you. You ended the conversation by saying you’ll return.”

I pause. My elbow lifts to touch the wall by the entrance, settling my palm against the side of my head.

“You know what? I don’t like you.”

Here my lighter blue bored into her darker blue, demanding constant eye contact. She didn’t falter, but her gaze hardened ever so slightly. Like she knew what I was up to.

I ceased my slouch against the wall and walked up to her with long, drawn out strides. In a matter of seconds we were only a couple feet away from each other.

My hand rises straight like a lever and caresses her cheek gently.

“Don’t say it Nico.”

Lucien’s voice reminded me of his presence. His tone was precautionary and low. He knew what I was going to say, as for her...

“I love you.”

Silence.

I bent forward and peered into her face.

She closed her eyes.

“Stand up straight, Nico,” she says, succinct and cool, “I don’t deserve such words coming from you. I leave this week.”

I stare a little longer and slowly rise.

Blink.

“Why don’t you accept my feelings?”

She merely stares. I continue.

“I can’t wait for your return.”

Silence.

In a softer voice, “No one can.”

Her eyes shut and she’s shaking her head.

“It’s too late.” Her voice betrays herself.

My eyebrows crease, and I lift my hand up to touch her. She opens her eyes and backs away, her face melancholy.

So beautiful. Even now as I look at her.

“I’m sorry, Nico,” she whispers and starts forward, “Goodbye.”