Chapter Thirty-One: Distance
"Tom...?"
His eyes looked sullen while he stared at the soles of his shoes. Then he looked up from his stance and only stared at me, not uttering a single word.
Not a bright and cheery good morning, or a wide grin on his lips on an early morning like this. It's scary...and unusual.
Maybe he's just tired or not in the mood at all. Even people like Tom has bad days or days they just want to be calm and quiet.
I'm just overthinking things. ...and if somehow, he has something troubling him, then I don't know what to say or do.
I resigned myself, tucking my hands under the pockets of my jacket while I maneuvered close to where he stood still.
He doesn't say anything and starts picking up his pace, not looking back or uttering a single word. It's as if he's trying to get away from me.
Damn it. It really makes me queasy when you're so quiet, Tom.
Was it because of what I said last night? Because I told him that he was a nuisance?
The only thing that could be heard was the screeching of tires and the barking of the dogs from a few steps away. It's like I'm walking by myself. And it's excruciating not knowing what to do.
But I shouldn't chicken out. I took one deep breath, one that I poured every ounce in me to gather up some courage and started some dead conversation. "Tom...uh, the weather is nice...isn't it?"
I stared at him, waiting for at least an obnoxious reply, but after a mere second, he barely mutters. "Yeah."
I forced up a tight smile. "Aren't you excited for the school festival? It's nearing close."
"Mhm."
I tried to be nice and at least considerate just this once. But he's really pushing my buttons right now—not to mention how I despise his monosyllabic replies. It makes me feel like I'm just air passing through him.
I stopped in my tracks and grabbed the hem of his shirt, clenching it with my fingers. "What's the matter with you? It's as if I'm talking to some brainless idiot."
I flinched when his hands travelled through mine and took off my hands off his crumpled shirt. He flatly asked. "I'm being selfish right now, right?"
I furrowed my brows at him. "What do you mean? Explain it in the way I would understand."
He sighed, gazing at me with dreary eyes. "I'm a very selfish person, Avery. I'm trying to hold myself from being too greedy and asking too much."
"So...let me be...just this time."
Then he picks up his pace, not bothering to at least look into my face for just a mere second.
And somehow...it seems like there's a barrier between us.
Something that I don't know how it happened.
. . .
"Earth to Avery?"
I blinked, then snapped out of my reverie when I see a hand waved in front of me swiftly. I lift my gaze to find Oskar peering his head towards me.
"You alright? You look like you want to punch someone."
"I'm fine," I grumbled despite my efforts to seem like I was doing alright.
The firm grip that I held onto a random book was the evident of that. Oskar sees this and glanced at me meaningfully.
"You know, saying you're alright when it's obvious you're not is overrated, you know?"
I frowned. "What do you want me to say, then? That I'm having a problem? That I'm troubled?"
"Calm down," he looked at me anxiously. "---you don't have to get so worked up about it."
He placed a hand under his chin and pretended to think deeply, then he glanced back at me with a look that says he found the answer. "Let me guess...you realized you like Tom?"
I brought a hand up and lunged it to his direction but he swerved to the right and misses my swing. I groan, flinging my hand back to my sides with my frustration growing more the seconds that ticked by.
He pisses me off.
"You don't have to hit me to get your point across, okay?" he managed a faint smile, as if he dodged a stray bullet. "—I was joking."
"Well your joke isn't funny!" I sourly smiled. "Tch. You have horrid tastes in humor."
"So? What's truly troubling you?"
I hesitated whether to tell him, but since I had no one to talk to, I decided to tell him. It's not like he's going to tell Tom. As far as I know, they're enemies.
"That stupid idiot is acting weird," I grumbled under my breath, darting daggers at the spine of the books I just stacked up on the counter to be returned.
I mumbled, the creases on my forehead deepens. "He's distancing himself from me—like I'm some parasite."
"So, you're worried?"
I blinked, flickering my sight to Oskar. "Me? Worried? Why?"
Oskar looks into my eyes with so much wonder as he speaks casually---like he usually does. "Because he's special to you, right? You're worried that he's distancing himself from you and you're afraid that it would be too late to patch up whatever wrongdoing you did."
Before I could reply, he wags a finger up. "But your ego is stopping you from confronting him."
"Tch," I clicked my tongue, eyeing him in distaste because what he just said struck me to the core. "—it pisses me off how you know me so much."
"You should be a psychic or something."
"I don't," he replied. "---but you're an easy book to read, Avery. It's like what they say, "The eyes are the windows to your soul."
"And I think I got an idea on why he's acting like that," he smiles at me mischievously. "---but you think about it yourself. You can't just have people spoon feed you the answers all the time."
I groaned, wanting to chuck the book to his head but calmed myself down, releasing the pressure from my fingertips. "Stupid Oskar."
"You men are hard to understand."
"I think it's the other way around," he clarified with a teasing grin. "—you women are hard to read. It's like we're gambling ourselves as we think carefully on what to say."
"That is ridiculous."
"Nu uh. That's the truth."
"Want me to bash your head with this book?" I taunted, flashing a ghastly smile.
He warily glanced at me. "Your ways of shutting me up are terrifyingly effective."
"Good."
So something is really bothering him huh. What would someone like me do?
What would someone do if they were in my shoes?