Chapter 6: Maverick
“Rapist?” I hear Anthony ask Logan as I walk towards Guinevere. I look back to notice Anthony, filled up with anger, standing up from the ground and storming off past the gym entrance, only to have Logan walk after him, yelling after him, “Please let me explain”. Logan has messed up really badly. “Guinevere? I’m sorry Anthony did that to you,” I tell her as I sit beside her on her left as she holds the cloth on her red cheek. I tried to reach for her hand, but she looked away, refusing to let me talk to her. Some days she stays away from me, and I have no idea why. I want to know why she won’t talk to me. “Guinevere, please talk to me,” I pleaded to her, trying to grab her hand again, but she just stood up from the table and walked away. “Stay the hell away from me,” she tells me after turning around, only to reveal her makeup starting to drip down the left side of her face because of the cloth and the wetness of her tears.
I want to know the truth…
I should know the truth…
“Guinevere please,” I ask her, hearing my voice starting to break. I try reaching for her free, dry hand, but she pulls her hand out of my reach so I can’t grasp it. All I wanted was to grasp her in my arms and make sure that she didn’t let go. However, before she could start to run away from me and hide in a bathroom stall, I was able to grab onto her damp left hand as she dropped the cloth onto the floor before she could run. Holding onto her hand, I pulled her towards me, and with her other hand in mine, I pressed her against the column that's beside the table that Anthony sat at before, with the garbage can on the other side. Pressing her on the darkish green column, you could see her face about to go red with anger, as if she was going to destroy something that a loved one gave her. Holding her shaking hand, you could see her red lips starting to tremble with fear as I looked down at her short white sparkly fingernails, acting as if they wanted to pierce my hand so that I had no choice but to let go. Even her hair starts to shake very slightly, showing a short piece of aquamarine hair dangle from her right side as it falls in her face and onto her nose as if she was forced to pose for a magazine like she had no choice. “Please tell me what’s going on,” I asked her again, but only making it seem like she needed to tell me or I wasn’t going to let her go. I used to love Guinevere, and she used to love me. Or at least I thought she did.
We had gotten really close two years ago, and she told me really personal things that I had swore I was never going to repeat to anyone - her secrets were safe with me. I even made a promise to her, but I ended up breaking it at the end of the year. She was in grade 10 and I was technically supposed to be in grade 12, graduating that year, but I messed up and told her that I was in grade 12 back then even though I was actually in grade 10 along with her. But back then, I must’ve come off as manipulative, because I didn’t tell her the truth when I should’ve. Guinevere takes a deep shaky breath as if she was scared of me, causing me to let go of her hands. Clearly there was something going on, and she just wasn’t talking to me. Next thing I knew, she ran off to the nearest bathroom, down the hall, past the gym on her right, where she would hide in a bathroom stall, crying with her hands covering her face. I want to know what’s going on, but she’s not telling me.
Guinevere, please tell me what’s going on so I can help…
I ran after her while calling out, hearing my voice speak words I never thought I would: “Guinevere, please talk to me”...
Two years ago, I tried to show that I loved her. I still remember one day from back then. Guinevere had short dark brown hair and her hazel eyes, and was currently dating Anthony. Technically, they dated for a month and a half, because I came swooping into Guinevere’s life. But it was around early February, and Valentine’s day was coming around. I wanted to give her something, but I didn’t know what. So one day, I asked Anthony if the two of us could go for a walk. I still remember the path.
Near the school, there is a forest near the backend of it, only to reveal three houses nearby, where two houses were separated by trees, even though they were actually quite close. “Everything all right?” I remember Anthony asking me as we walked down the path towards the school, only to see a wooden house show up on our right in the near distance. It seemed like the kind of house that resembled a cabin in the woods, where it had light beige staircases wrapping around it each time you got to a different level of the house. “I don’t know what to give Guinevere for Valentine’s day,” I remember telling Anthony before a long awaited sigh erupted out of me. Past the cabin house were a series of small patches of trees, only to reveal two houses mirroring each other on the other side of the patch. One house was smaller than the other, but they were both huge. The one on Anthony and I’s shared right was the bigger one. They both had a cobblestone wall wrapping around it, even though they resembled mansions, with those marble stone walls that they both had for an outside. “Who do you think lives here?” I remember Anthony asking me as he had brushed his pale hand through his golden blonde locks of hair, before putting his hands against his dark jeans that had holes at the knees. He was wearing a felt burgundy shirt, which I remember wondering how he could wear something so warm when there was no snow on the ground, and the sun was peeking out of the clouds above us. “I don’t know,” I remember muttering towards him. However, afterwards, I remember me sneaking into the front garden of the house on the right. Behind the cobblestone wall, a white pearl stone fountain is featured on the right side of the path before it leads up to the front entrance. On the left side, there were rows upon rows of red roses, with pink peonies lying on the last row before the cobblestone wall. On the left side, there was a small path that led behind the fountain towards another entrance to where another small garden was. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? You’re going to get caught,” I remember Anthony telling me with his voice rather struck as he snuck into what seemed to be a never-ending fairy garden to grab my hand and to get me out of there. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m grabbing flowers,” I tell him as I release my hand from his. “If you’re going to grab flowers for Guinevere, I’d highly suggest that you grab a few roses and run out of here before someone sees you,” I remember him telling me, letting those blue eyes of his stare at me, commanding me to do so as if he was the boss of me. “Fair point,” I remember muttering out. “I’ll grab roses,” I remember telling myself under my breath, even though I already started walking towards the blue hyacinths that were on the other side of the white angel-featured fountain.
Bending over as I pull a few roses out of the ground, I remember hearing the front door of the house start to slightly open a little. When that happened, Anthony grabbed my left hand (my right was filled with roses), and rushed me out of there as fast as he could. Past the fence, the cobblestone wall, the pearly white fountain, only to have him press me against the cobblestone wall on the other side, as he pressed his right hand over my mouth to keep me quiet and that I didn’t say anything with those devilish blue eyes of his staring at me, I still remember us hearing a woman call out, “Who goes there?” However, as the woman started walking towards Anthony and I, we felt like we had no choice but to dart off into the distance. Past the patches of trees, the cabin of a house, and down the sidewalk that came down the right side of a golden yellow mansion, we needed to stop and catch our breath. I remember Anthony bent over as he took his breath while grasping onto his knees, while I fell onto the ground, letting my air escape me, breath by breath, one by one. “Thanks for getting me out of there,” I remember telling him as I sat up. “Says you. You almost got us caught!” I remember Anthony raising his voice at me, almost at the same level the woman was calling at. “Who was that?” I remember asking him, rather curious as to who the woman was. She must’ve been rich in order to live in that house that she has. That house is almost like a mansion. In fact, it does resemble a mansion. Looking back at it, even though it’s further in the distance, a womanly figure steps out onto the cobble sidewalk, facing Anthony and I. Standing up, I try to make out who the womanly figure is. I remember I looked back at her, feeling like I already knew her from before. Who was this woman? It wasn’t Guinevere, she was at her house, probably fiddling with the ocean earrings that Grace had given to her the day before. However, it also wasn’t Lydia or Rachel. Rachel has blonde to dirty blonde hair, and the woman in the distance had brown hair. Turning around, I remember noticing that Anthony had disappeared, making me realize that I was alone now. Staring at the roses I took from the woman’s garden, I remember a sense of guilt had risen inside of me, making me want to apologize to the woman and give the roses back, but another part of me thought of just running and giving the roses to Guinevere right away.
…
Running down the cobblestone path, I eventually came across the road that travelled near Guinevere’s house. Past the golden yellow mansion, my cousin’s house (named Jason) was not that far from the right, but my red brick house was on the near right, with Amy’s (Guinevere’s old friend) house on my house’s right, living in an l-shaped house that had blue siding, where the long end faced the front, but with the entrance on the side near the entrance to what I believed was a garage. On the other side of the golden mansion was an empty red and pink house that had a “for sale” sign on the front. Near it was a white pearl house that resembled the other houses that were further away from the golden mansion, but this house was nowhere near as big. Not remembering who lived in the house, I just walked along the path, eventually coming across another pearly white house that seemed to be a lot like the other mansions. However, if the mansion that the woman had lived in was competing with this house, the woman’s house would win it in an instant because of the garden and size. Past the white house was Dickinson’s coffeehouse, the coffee house slash restaurant that everyone in town would go to, whether it was for a slice of pizza or a cup of coffee, or even takeout on a stressful day. We live on a small island that no one barely even knows or can find on a map. However, it is just off the northwest corner of the UK. But the place is barely found on a map, and it is a 10 hour drive from Glasgow. Past Dickinson’s coffeehouse and down the path, I eventually get to the small bridge that leads to Guinevere’s house. However, the path has an l-shaped house beside it that has green siding. It looked like it could have just been revealed from one of the renovation shows because of the landscaping that it had.
Down the path, after the small bridge, I remembered turning right, and after starting to wonder if I got lost, I came across Guinevere’s cobblestoned wall that led to her car-less house. At first I thought that they were out, but then again, the car could’ve been in the garage. Stepping up on that cobblestone ledge that led to the brown blue-stained glass door, I knocked on the door, only to have Guinevere answer the door herself, her short dark brown hair pulled back behind her ears so her ocean wave earrings were featured, and wearing a cheap and simple party long evening dress. It was a sleeveless/braless navy blue dress that flowed down her body, featuring her curves from the side and the front even if the dress was longer than she was, with open toed high heels that had white fabric at the ankle. I still remember eyeing those red lips of hers, wanting to grasp the life out of them. “Guinevere, you look amazing,” I remember telling her in awe at how pretty she was. Guinevere was so gorgeous that I had completely forgotten why I was there in the first place. “Maverick, is there a reason why you’re here?” I remember her asking me. I had gotten so lost in her beauty. She looked like she could stop traffic. “Yes,” I remember stuttering, focusing myself more on the roses that I took from the woman’s garden than the beauty that Guinevere had. “For you,” I told her, handing her the dirty stemmed roses in hand. “Thank you,” I remember her telling me as she held them in her pale, sparkly free hands. Her nails back then were simple and short. “Why are you all dressed up?” I remember asking her out of curiosity, wondering why she would be wearing such a gorgeous dress. “Erica has invited me and a few friends over for a little makeover session,” I remember her telling me. I couldn’t remember who Erica was though. But that was the Guinevere that I was in love with. Where’s that Guinevere now?
Where’s the Guinevere that I fell in love with?
“Guinevere?” I ask as I slowly step into the girls bathroom. At first I checked down the hall from my left to my right to make sure that no one was watching me enter. I thought I was okay at first, but instead I ended up finding Grace at the sink. Seeing her there, she ended up looking straight at me with those dark brown eyes of hers that were four inches lower than mine. “Maverick, what the hell are you doing in here?” She asked me while crossing her light pale sleeveless arms. Grace has her long wavy dirty blonde hair pulled behind her ears, while she is wearing a light blue wavy shirt that tucks into her tight mossy green skirt. “Well?” Grace asks me, using those dark brown eyes of hers as a weapon to get me to speak. “Is Guinevere in here?” I ask, instead of responding to her question. I couldn’t risk explaining the main reason why I was there. I didn’t want to explain to Grace what could’ve gone down between Guinevere and I, when I already knew the truth of what happened to Grace. “Why?” Grace asks, hearing that tone of voice go quiet, as if maybe Grace did see her and didn’t want to scare her. There were two bathroom stalls, and when you exited, there was one bathroom sink that people would have had to share. However, this wasn’t the only bathroom on the high school side. There was a bigger one further down the hall that was across from the theatre, along with a smaller bathroom but bigger than this one, on the other side of the high school gym. “Clearly you’re not answering,” Grace had commented before she grabbed her black leather purse from the counter, wrapped it over her right shoulder and started to walk off. However, I grabbed her right hand and pleaded, “please don’t tell anyone that I was in here.”
Instead of answering to that, she released her hand from mine and told me in a low whisper so not even Guinevere (who could’ve been in one of the stalls) could hear her, “you know there’s a reason why I don’t let anyone touch me”, reminding me of the dreaded day when she told me what happened between Logan and her, swearing me to not tell anyone that she was raped.