He made his way over to me with his charcoal pencil in his hand, I took a step back, and my back hit the door. River was close to me,veryclose to me— so close that I could make out his earthy scent. He carried the scent of vanilla and petrichor, a café in the pouring rain. He tilted my chin up with the tip of his pencil, so my eyes met his, and like a Parisian winter, they were cold and unforgiving. His rosy bee-stung lips pursed into a straight line as he made out my features. I felt as though he were a god, and I was merely a mortal waiting for him to punish me.
“Why would I let you do that?” He responded,
“Whywouldn’tyou?” I retorted, and he seemed perplexed by my forwardness.
“You are—” he begun, but I cut him off,
“Armani Nnandi.”
There was a beat of silence, as we stared at each other, and he looked down into my eyes, and I could almost see the reality that we had met before sinking in, I know you, I want to say, but I don’t. Because his presence was entirely too overwhelming.
"Leave." He instructed sternly, the tip of his pencil sharp and warning against my skin. I spun around and opened the door, racing down the stairs in exasperation. He wasn't going to actually hurt me, was he? Flashes of the way his eyes like a cold fire had burned into mine, danced behind my closed eyelids.
River Kennedy, he looked at me like I was one of the most beautiful disasters in history.
Chapter 4
Pandora's Box
OVERTHEcourseofthe next few days, I much preferred to eat my meals in solitude or in the confinement of my bedroom curled up with a book. I had read through a total of seven complete works of fiction in one week alone, and if that did not speak for itself of how much time I’d had on my hands, I was not sure what else would. I had been whispered tales of beauties who tamed beasts, people with both sense & sensibility or neither, girls who fell down rabbit holes and went mad as hatters, secret gardens and kisses electric enough to breathe life into another. I had read it all.
Earlier that morning, I passed by the student lounge and took notice of Geneviève seated opposite River; I watched as she conversed with him, her face full of expression and eyes full of emotion, while he simply nodded, seemingly bored by her. But they still talked nonetheless, something about black coffee, itchy sweaters and Vincent van Gogh's starry night.
Later that night, I lay staring up at the ceiling with my mind swimming with images of a beautiful god, images of River Kennedy. His presence electrified something through me, something I'd never felt before and couldn't quite explain. I traced my finger over the spot beneath my chin he'd used to threaten me with a pencil. I was being entirely too ridiculous for my own good, far too obsessive.
I never quite learned how just to like something; I always allowed it to attach itself to me, become my very own parasite. Nothing ever merely tickled my fancy. I let it consume me entirely. I fear that I may have not been entirely truthful with you. It is important to remember that, above all, I am my mother’s daughter. When I love, I love hard. When I hold on, I never let go. When I give it a try, I give everything. Et je n'ai pas de regrets.
I have no regrets.
His words echoed in my mindleave, and just like that, I did what he asked without even thinking about it. It was almost mechanical. I had no say in the matter. I wasn’t used to feeling so…inferior. I was so caught up in my thoughts that I barely even noticed when Keomi walked in, with a troubled expression on her usually radiant face. She tossed her bag on her bed and plopped herself down on the foot of my bed.
"Are you sure that you can't possibly find a way to get over this?" She asked, her voice tired and drained of all its usual enthusiasm.
"No, I don't think I can, Keomi," I replied honestly, "But don't feel pressured to tell me anything you're not ready to, okay?"
"No, Armani, you don't understand I— Ihaveto talk about it because it's been eating me up from the inside out." She spoke, and at that, she caught my attention, and I immediately sat up in bed.
"I'm here for you, I promise," I assured her by placing a hand on her shoulder. She was tense but relaxed under my touch.
"It wasn't always just the five of us..." Keomi began staring straight into the distance.
"What do you mean?" I asked,
"There was a sixth member of our group, Jace, but he's gone now." She confessed, and I was taken aback. I would've never guessed it.
The way Keomi and her friends behaved and conducted themselves when I first met them, you'd never have thought that it wasn't alwaysjustthem. But in a way, I could feel it. I could feel the void. It was the empty seat at the lunch table that no one dared glance at or sit on. It was how sometimes there were gaps in conversation, as if awaiting an opinion from a silent voice. The emptiness, it was there. It was unavoidable.
“Are you familiar with the Greek myth of Pandora’s box?” Keomi queried, and a beat of silence followed,
“Yes, I am,” I assured her, recalling the hours I put into tenth-grade mythology.
“When Prometheus stole fire from the gods, Zeus exacted retribution by bestowing Pandora upon Prometheus' brother Epimetheus. Pandora was given a box as a wedding gift and instructed never to open it. Unfortunately, eventually, curiosity got the better of her, and she opened the box, releasing death, evil, and misery into the world.” Keomi explicated, and I stared at her in confusion. “However, the last thing in the box was hope and ever since, humans have clung to it.”
“Yes, I hear you.” I assured her, “But what does any of that have to do with this?”
"This entire situation is like Pandora’s box. We locked it away, made a pact to never talk about it again, to never bring it up. But now you’re here, Armani, and you’re opening it all up. There might be hope in the box, but with it will also come misery." She told me as she grabbed a copy of Gone Girl from her locked drawer and took the picture out, handing it to me with tears in her sad brown eyes.” therefore you must be certain that you want to know everything, if it’s worth it.”
“I am,” I told her, and she nodded silently.
