Lost in his embrace

Chapter 4

Suddenly, a tear scapes my eye as I watch his figure through the window fade from my view. Once we step out of this car, he will be far away from me again. He will be Tyler from three years ago.

I close my eyes and feel the rapid beat of my heart once again. Donovan, you're becoming good at acting. Well, who won't be good if you're doing it for two years already. I sometimes imagine myself on a huge stadium, receiving my oscar award while being applauded by tons of people in front, but instead of tears of joy gushing out of my eyes, It will be tears of heartache.

He's unfair, Isn't he?

My phone suddenly vibrates against my thigh, I wipe the tear with the back of my thumb. It must be my mother, It's almost thirty minutes since I felt my phone vibrate, I doubt it's Tyler, Since we've just talked literally one minute ago. I quickly fish my phone out of my pocket.

It's Britney.

Guess what? My sister is actually preggy.

I picture her out jumping in excitement and happiness in my head. Last year, she said that they received a very bad news from her sister. Her sister is married to an english, soldier guy in the year twenty-sixteen but after years of trying to produce an offspring, she figured out she only had five percent chance of conceiving.

Her sister was left devastated after hearing such heartbreaking news. If I were a girl, I don't think I can bear such situation, in my own opinion, That's the most scariest and heartbreaking news for an individual—particularly to every woman, Britney was telling me the story on the phone and her words were incoherent because she was also weeping that time so I had a hard time understanding her but I'm really happy for them and for her sister hearing the good news.

I climb out of the car after I sent my reply to Britney. I slip my sweatshirt on as I feel the temperature seem to drop.

I will now once again put on my facade whenever I bump into Tyler on the campus. He's too good at hiding his feelings that his acting seems to come out naturally.

I was wrong, actually, the two of us both deserve the oscar award. If only Britney knew, I purposely act like I hold special feelings for Tyler whenever she's with me—Well yeah, Tyler owns a particular space in my heart but you know. . . Reverse psychology.

If I act like I have a crush or feelings on Tyler, she will not think that there's really something special going on between us. I'm just helping Tyler achieve what he wants everyone to know about us. I'm not good at explaining things but I hope that makes sense but most of the times I wasn't acting already.

I quicken my steps as I reach the gate. Bryan is probably at his peak right now. He's more terror than most of our professors, I remember one of my classmates cried because of him. Actually, Bryan isn't just the president of our class but the whole campus.

I almost halt my steps when my eyes catch Tyler on the bench where I sat earlier. I feel my pace slow down on its own volition. I notice one of his friends sit beside him leaning his back on the bench. I guess they are playing an online game because I see Tyler stomp his shoes in irritation on the ground occasionally.

I also play online games so I'm familiar with that kind of expression. His shoulder is facing me while his body is bent down. His elbows are arched on his thighs as he appears engrossed in his phone.

I notice there are creases between his eyebrows while his eyes are trained on the screen of his phone.

The path is just adjacent to the bench they are sitting on, so he'll probably notice me once I walk past them. I feel my heart slowly ascend in my throat as I notice my steps have already neared their spot.

I was just on his chest earlier and I feel like we are a complete stranger right now. However, it's too late before I realise that I have halted my steps.

I don't know what I anticipate at this moment but I think I stop for ten seconds before I realise I'm stupid enough to even wait for him to do something. I thought you're smart enough, Denovan. You already know him.

What would you expect him to do? Call your name while he's with his friend? Ha! I exhaust a breath of irritation before I feel myself continue to walk again. My head subconsciously turns around and my eyes unexpectedly meet Tyler's.

Somehow, I feel like he's telling me something through his gaze. When his friend looks up, he calmly tilts his head to his side as though he's looking at something before he brings his focus back on his phone.

I see his friend whisper something to Tyler, and tyler replies him with nods and smiles before he glances at me again.

I feel my forehead crease deeply into a frown as I turn my head back. He's now once again the Tyler of three years ago.

It's nothing new and I shouldn't feel angry. If I'll be given an opportunity to enter his head, I'll not think twice just to understand every reason he has. Every relationship should be balanced; sadness shouldn't outweigh happiness and relationships shouldn't just revolve around happiness and satisfaction. I know. But I don't know what to think and believe anymore.

He is not making any sense! I can totally understand him if we just became together two weeks ago, But two years? For two years?! And in those two years, I don't even feel he's proud of me as his boyfriend, our relationship doesn't improve in the slightest.

Are relationships supposed to be like that?

I have tried every bit of my energy to understand him—I have broadened my understanding and perspective a lot of time every time we met at my car. . . But he just drains every bit of it—I want to remind him that I was not born built and programmed to easily understand him and That I'm not a robot and I can be hurt too.

I don't like the feeling as though he's hiding me. Sometimes, I feel like it's easier to fake every expression on the surface than to act that you're not hurting on the inside.

As I step inside the practice room, I see their backs are on me while they sing, I try to walk stealthily to not get caught. However, Bryan seems to have a strong sense as he suddenly turns his head.

I feel myself freeze in my spot.

“Oh!?. . . Mr. Correy.” He raises his one arm pointing at his wrist watch, probably asking me what time it is right now. I'm now the centre of their attention as they stop what they are doing and turn their eyes on me.

Bryan must be really angry right now based on the way he calls my surname with apparent irritation. I rub the edge of my eyebrow giving him a guilty smile. My eyes catch some of the members playing a guitar and some are with a bond paper in their hands.

I notice there are words written on it which seem the lyrics of the song that we are going to practise.

Tyler surfaces in my mind as I hear the subtle sound from the adjoining room; I can see students inside dancing through the floor-to-ceiling thin gaps across the wall.

I don't think he will participate.

“Hmm. . . I had no idea which room we'll be using, So I headed towards the main practice room and. . .” I think of more reasons to add. " and I waited my butt there for almost thirty minutes. . . " I see him arch his brow at me, I sense he's doubting my ultimate lies but I just compose myself and act calm. I slip the sweatshirt off me and head towards a wooden chair, I hang it on its top rail.

“Plus, I saw you head there earlier,” I say as I slump my butt across the seat.

“Okay.” He looks at his wrist watch which makes me glance at my watch too. It's already fifty-seven past six.

“This is what we're going to sing at the event. . .” He says as he hands me the white paper, I read the first stanza as I reach it and I then hum the song in my head.

He places his hands on his waist. “We have to practice one hundred times within three hours, for the past one hour we only reached twenty-five times. . . So Ready yourself, We'll practice after the Five-minutes break.”

One hundred times? I'm sure I'll be bored to death. “I already know the song, So no need to worry.” I flash him a smile.

“Nothing to worry, Donovan. It's all right,” Stiffany, Our senior, suddenly emerges out of nowhere at my side. She wraps her arm around my shoulder after she sits across the arm of the chair. I try to push her off as gently as I could as I see her colorful nails about to reach my nose but to my dismay, she's a bit unrelenting. She then pinches its tip and giggles after.

I don't like it when someone pinches my nose. She even kisses the corner of my lips which catches me off guard before she pushes herself off the chair. Swear. I feel my blood boil in irritation. I try to exhibit a calm figure on the outside before I could do something that she'll regret kissing me. I wipe the spot where she kissed me and gives her back a death glare.