Christine Doré Miller - Forgiven Are the Starry-Eyed

Published by Evernight Teen atSmashwords

www.evernightteen.com

Copyright 2019 Christine Dor Miller

ISBN: 978-1-77339-940-9

Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

Editor: Melissa Hosack

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction ordistribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of thisbook may be used or reproduced electronically or in print withoutwritten permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodiedin reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names,characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actualevents, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, isentirely coincidental.

If you or someone you knowis in an abusive relationship, or if you have questions aboutabuse, please call 1-866-331-9474 or visit www.loveisrespect.org

FORGIVEN ARETHE

STARRY-EYED

Christine DorMiller

Copyright 2019

My eyelids closed as ifthey were being drawn down by sluggish, unhurried weights. When Iforced them open after several seemingly endless moments, nothinghad changed. I could still make out a blurry image of Josh standingnearby, Mr. Thompson's hands clenched firmly on Josh's shouldersfrom behind. There was a crowd, I think, and muffled voices. Thesteel school locker felt cold against my back and I recognized thefamiliar feeling that lately seemed to just dwell and ache in mybones. Fear, I think it was, mixed with just enough madness to keepthe blood racing through my veins fast. Too fast.

"Why did you do that,Andrea?" Josh shouted in my direction.

My eyes fell closed again.I don't remember what else he said. I just remember the feeling ofeach overly pronounced syllable piercing the air while he said it.I stared through the darkness that danced behind my heavy eyelids.What had I done?

I tried to pry open myhazy eyes to examine the faces of the expanding crowd as theystood, mouths agape. I only recognized a few. There were hardcovermusic books sprawled open on the tile floor at my feet. Confused, Ilooked to Josh, but the heavy silence of the room deafened anywords he may have been saying. I gripped the ends of my soft, thinhair between my slender fingers and waited. Each thought sunkdeeper than the last.

There was a poster tapedsloppily against the locker behind me. I turned my head to face itand focused. The ends were curled up and there were ripples in themasking tape adorned to the edges. "Oakwood High SchoolInvitationalTONIGHT" it read in handwritten purple block letters.There was a pixelated saxophone image pasted underneath the words,"Brought to you by Mr. Thompson and the Oakwood High Jazz Band." Ibrought my hand up to trace the edges. The poster board felt crispand thick under my fingertips. I could smell the aftermath of thepermanent marker. The loud reverberating voice behind me got softeruntil it resembled a deep echo I could easily ignore. I started topick at the tape from the bottom left corner of the poster until Ifelt the sticky residue ball up underneath myfingernail.

Suddenly the lifereentered my body in one abrupt breath when I felt a strong tug onmy arm. I turned and saw Ethan Marks. Everyone else was gone. Hadit been minutes this time? Hours?

"Andrea! Come on," hebarked at me, interlacing my arm, tucking it quickly under his. Hejerked me to a standing position and pulled me down the hall,speeding up his gate as I stumbled to catch up.

"Where's Josh?" I askedworriedly, but he didn't answer. We were silent as we walkedthrough the empty hallway. I lifted my gaze, trying to catchEthan's eye, trying to read his thoughts. His light blue eyes,usually sparkling with laughter, were steely and somber as hecharged forward, dragging me with him, away from the wreckage I'dcaused.

He stopped short and tooka deep breath. His eyes were unyielding and dismal as they studiedme, and slowly his frustration melted into a deepsadness.

"What happened, Andrea?What was that back there?"

"I don't know..." My voicebegan breaking. My thoughts were muddled beyond recognition and Icouldn't form the right words, or any words, to explain.

Ethan wrapped himselfaround me in a gentle, firm embrace. It felt kind. And warm. Andwonderfully different. My muscles unclenched for the first time inmonths, and I didn't know I was crying until I tasted the salt asit stained my face. I buried my head into Ethan's chest as hetightened his hold on me. I wanted him to say something, to tell meeverything would be all right, but we both knew better. So we juststood there, Ethan supporting me as I clasped the back of hiscotton t-shirt between my fingers.

After a few minutes, Ifully returned to my body as my breathing calmed. I steadied mystance and took a step backward, shakily holding Ethan's forearmsas I regained my balance. Wiping smudged mascara from my pale face,I met Ethan's eyes and quickly looked down, fixating on a crack inthe tile below me.

"Hey," he started, "Andrea... it's..."

"I'm okay. Ethan, I'msorry. I'm sorry you had to ... I'm sorry I ... ugh your shirt." Imotioned to the tear stains on his light green tee that crept fromhis chest to his shoulder.

"Oh God, don't worry aboutthat. Andie, I just..."

"It's fine." I wiped myface and took a deep breath. "Thanks," I said, squeezing Ethan'shand and looking in his eyes sincerely, so he knew I meant it. "Ishould go. But thanks." I shook my head and turned around to walkback into the havoc and face what I had done. I felt Ethan staringat me as I left. He was just anotherperson whose life would've been better if he hadn't met me. Iswallowed, took a breath, and kept walking.

It was over for now, thatlatest incident, and there was no way to tell when there would beanother one but there would definitely be another one. I was toobroken for it to be any other way.

After walking a shortdistance, I finally recognized Josh amidst dozens of hurriedstudents and parents milling toward the cafeteria. I meekly smiledand gave a half wave, unsure of how he'd be feeling after what hadjust happened, unsure if he'd even want to see me. But I was drawntoward him like the strongest magnet, unable to stay away no matterhow much I resisted or how much damage I'd caused.

"Come on, babe, we've onlygot an hour until we have to be back at the awards ceremony," Joshsaid, his dark brown eyes transfixed on me with concern. He didn'tmention the incident. I didn't either.

Josh's words were soft,but I couldn't shake the horror from my body. How could he stilllove me after this? He deserved better. Everyone did.

Josh motioned for me tofollow him outside the double doors that led to the parking lot. Asthe cold Michigan air hit my face, I went to grab Josh's hand. Hequickly dropped it when he saw Harper and jogged to catch up withher. I tried to follow briskly but was still carefully avoiding theice patches on the black asphalt as I heard a car start.

"Come on, slowpoke!"Harper teased from the driver's seat. I piled into the backseat ofher 1980s white hatchback and had barely buckled my seatbelt beforewe started moving.

It wasn't always like this, with so muchdespair lingering in the electric air, though it seemed like thegood moments were becoming fewer and the incidents were lastinglonger as time went on.