Out of Spite
All rise with me
Like burning suns
You're asking me where I'm coming from
Hide until the fire went down
(…)
Fall into the tide
At the water's edge
Get to the other side
And I'll bury my head
Home's so far away
And that's okay
There's nothing wrong with
Tearing down the bridge you made
-Better now by Bombay Bicycle Club
The last thing Theo thought of before his back hit the water was that if he didn’t survive, he would never see his exam results. The second thought that splashed against him was that if he doesn’t survive, he would never be able to gloat in Bridgerton’s face.
Theo couldn’t tell what would piss him off more.
All he wanted was a stroll by the lake after his last exam. He felt like his head was on fire again. He didn’t know if he spent more time planning his exams or looking back to see if Bridgerton was still sitting there.
He couldn’t understand why she kept narrowing her blue eyes as she stared at him. He wanted to glare back, but the look on her face when he smirked was a balm his spite ached for.
At least he wouldn’t have to see her again for a long time. If he interacted with her one more time, he might just drown.
He practically ran out of the campus, thinking longingly of going home in ten days for Easter break. He couldn’t wait to call his sister, Iris and tell her.
Theo was walking, feeling the cool breeze against his skin, until he walked right into Victor.
“I need to talk to you.”, Victor said in a low voice.
Six of Theo’s least favourite words, right after “I beat you in British Literature.”
Victor glanced around and then spoke in a hushed voice.
“I heard you write a banging first class essay.”
“Course I do.”, Theo responded.
Victor smirked, “Cockier than I expected.”
“Cos I’m bloody good at it.”
“Get on with it.”, a boy next to Victor grunted. Theo noticed with surprise that it was William, the bloke he told to shut up in Literary Theory after he called Eloise “emotional”.
“I have a submission.”, Victor spoke quickly, “A three thousand word essay. Two of them in fact. I have the material. I just need you to put it tog—”
“No.”, Theo said flatly.
“It won’t be for free.”, William started hastily but fell silent when Victor snapped his neck back at him.
“Are you coughin’ up?”, Theo asked with interest, “twenty bucks per thousand words, minimum. I dunno jack about econ.”
He could see a nerve jumping in Victor’s neck.
“Ten bucks? You can make a pretty penny.”
Theo snorted. He wasn’t going to do all that for an amount that will only get him a few second hand paperbacks. All he knew about Economics was how to spell the damn word.
“How about a girl?”, Victor said roughly, “A pretty lass, with an even prettier room.”
“Excuse me?”, Theo said sharply.
“C’mon, Sharpe. I know plenty.”, Victor said with a glint in his eye that Theo didn’t like at all, “Some think you’re a fit looking lad and some are just desperate sl—”
“That’s disgusting.”, Theo said, balling up his fists, “Get away from me.”
“Not very nice.”, Victor said, with a wicked smile, “I doubt the slums taught you any manners.”
“Yeah? Did the manicured lawns you rolled around in teach you to treat women like bargaining chips?”, Theo asked coldly, taking a step back. The ground beneath the heel of his shoe was clearly damp. He risked tilting his head sideways and realized he was edging closer to the water. His legs felt like they were melting.
A boy behind Victor leaned forward to mutter something in his ear.
Victor smiled, “Now, maybe rewards won’t motivate you.”
The prickle at the back of Theo’s neck had spread down to his fingertips, and his hair was standing on end.
“You and Eloise Bridgerton are still working together, aren’t you?” Victor said softly.
“What does that have to do with anything?” Theo snapped. Victor’s eyes gleamed with malevolent triumph.
“Struck a nerve, I see. Don’t think you can keep working with her if her hand is—”
“Don’t bring her into it.”, he snarled.
“Quite the sensitive topic.”, Victor sneered. The boys behind him were smirking.
“Eloise”, Victor whispered, “pretty girl…Would she still be pretty after I—”
“Get away!” Theo snarled. He didn’t know what made him do it. Before he even realized what was happening, his hands had smacked against Victor. The only thought ringing in his head was that he wanted to cause as much pain as possible.
All it took was the heat spreading through his head before Victor even finished his sentence.
All it took was that smack against Victor’s chest for time to slow down, while the sound hung in the hair, ringing like the aftermath of a thunderclap.
All it took was the look in Victor’s eyes for Theo to know he was never going to call his sister.
All it took was one wave of cold water to sweep him into the current of his memory. His jacket, weighed by the water, warped around him. It was too big for him. The cold had flowed through his head, was crushing his skull.
He was twelve years old again, and the water was all he knew. Every second seemed to stretch, like a carpet that never stopped rolling, sending everything in its path toppling. For those few seconds, or minutes, or lightyears, time seemed to strain.
Time was struggling to breathe like he did. The cold had him crushed in its fist. Something was rushing in him, around him, all over him- wind, and maybe the flash of darkness that might host him for a while.
Death was the one home everyone returns to.
Theo was twelve years old again, and he was sure he was going to die. He knew he would spend his last seconds wondering what the colour of water really was, watching the light cleave through the surface, creating patterns that reminded him of the cracks of a jewel.
Like his mother’s ring.
Like the lines emanating from the pupil of an eye, sharp as the spokes of a wheel.
Like a certain bright, blue eye.
Theo’s eyes fluttered shut. His mind could conjure a specific wheel- the one that was part of his sister’s bike. He needed to call Iris, ask her how she is doing, tell her he would come home soon for Easter.
He needed to ask her how her preparation for AS Level English was.
Wave after wave rolled against him, smothering him in an oppressing onslaught. Pain burned through his lungs and chest. His heart was thumping like a drum, hammering like it was going to leap out of his rib cage. His knees had buckled, like he was brought to his knees.
Just let go, a voice in his head, from the edge of his mind floated through his numb brain, just breathe.
Let the water all in.
Out of spite
.
Theo tried to push himself up, elbow through the crowd of droplets but a sharp pain lodged itself in his head. There was something worse than the water, and it was gripping his head, holding him down. A nail was being brought down on his head, hammering him, piercing into his skull?
It wasn’t that bad. It wasn’t even cold anymore. The icy bite of the cold had faded to a sort of warmth that lapped against him. The pressure was behind his eyes, in his skull, in his very bones. A dull, thunderous roar- was it his heartbeat? The noise from above? The pressure against his ears?
His lungs convulsed, like an unbearable force had wrapped itself around every part of his body.
It was time.
His mother’s hands were brushing against him, reaching for a thread in his heart to tug him towards her.
Just let go.
He did.
Rocks on the bones of my shoulders
He’s holding me down
He’s holding me under
Lights off, we’re dead in the water
Dark of the night, I have no one to turn to
When I’m wise I’ll be righteous
I am young, I am light
(...)
Sink to swim
I’ve carried this light
But you won’t give
So I won’t fight
I am wise
I am righteous
I am young
I am light
(...)
I wanna let it go
I wanna go
I’m gonna let it go
(...)
-Solas (with Sarah Cothran) by Jamie Duffy