Author's Note:

HEY YA'LL. First off, thank you all soooo so much for your kind words and support even in my long, unannounced absence. Second, I have no excuse, other than I lost inspiration and I really haven't written anything since April. I've opened this document a million times and added some things, but I just got tired and gave up.

I miss writing, and I miss this story, so maybe I'll get to finishing it.

Sweet Pea
a My Candy Love (© ChinoMiko) fanfiction

Chapter Thirty-Five
out of the woods (?)

Opening Song: "Honey Come Home" - the Head and the Heart

do you remember every block

every minute of every walk we used to take

we were young, so many years ago

and I think of all this time

that we've wasted with all our fighting

You know, I've always been pretty good at running. I'm great at distance and I'm decent with sprinting; right now I'm wishing I'd practiced more with the latter because Deborah is hot on my tail. Girl can run fast in her heeled booties. "Nathaniel said to go to the teacher's lounge!" I remind myself as I go sliding around the corner.

"What are you doing?" Ken asks when I nearly topple over him.

"The plan worked!" I manage through a couple wheezes. "But Deborah is chasing after me and—"

"The teacher's lounge," Ken says, "go there, quick."

Geez, he's in on it, too? "Okay!" I quickly shuffle towards the teacher's lounge, which is, as Nathaniel promised, open. I give myself a second to breathe as my heart pounds against my rib cage, reminding me just how out of shape I am. "I think I'm gonna hurl."

"There you are." Yikes. Deborah comes in shortly after and closes the door behind her; unfairly, she doesn't look the least bit winded. Does she ever look ugly? Ever? "Here we are at last, just the two of us. Alone." She moves towards me, like a tiger advancing on its prey, her hands on her hips and a smile that is so smug that all of my confidence withers away. "Did you have fun? Tricking me out of my contract… Do you have any idea what you've done?"

"In my defense," I mutter, inwardly wincing as I back up against the desk, "it wasn't just me. You're giving me way too much credit."

Deborah sneers. "Do you think you've actually won anything? Even if I don't have a manager now, it's only a matter of time before another one picks me up. And now that I've got Castiel…"

"You don't have anything yet," I say, barely managing to cover up the quiver in my voice. "He hasn't decided yet." At least, I hope he hasn't decided yet.

"It's only a matter of time. That idiot will believe anything I tell him; it worked last year, and it's working again now. I can get him to do anything I want." As mad as I am at Castiel, I can't help but be angry with the way she's talking about him; no one deserves to be treated like that. "So it'll be the two of us, and he'll boost my image and my music and my career, and once he's played his part—"

"And once he's played his part you'll drop him," I say, finishing for her, "again."

She smiles, and there's nothing friendly about it. "Of course. Two's a crowd when it comes to the spotlight. So don't be crying victory just yet; I've got everyone in this school in my pocket. Violette, Iris, Melody, Kim, Castiel, even your friend Alexy — every single one of them turned on you as soon as it was your word against mine. Neither you nor your idiot band of friends are going to stop me. I've never lost before, and I'm definitely not going to start now."

"And you followed me here," I say, "just to tell me all that?"

"To be honest, I just need to rub it in your face. You're too stubborn for my tastes. Since day one, you've done nothing but cause me trouble. You almost got away with it today, too, but luckily for me, I've got a backup plan." She moves even closer to me, so that I can smell her cinnamon perfume. "I just want to be sure that you won't ever go against me again."

I swallow thickly. "And how's that?"

"I've never had to turn to force before, but like I said, you've been especially stubborn…"

"A-are you gonna hit me!?" I stumble away from her, trying to put some space between us, but it's obvious that she has the upper hand. "No one will believe you if—"

"Oh, they'll believe me if I'm hurt, too. I'll just say that you attacked me; after all, everyone already believes that you tried to hurt me before." This girl is CRAZY!

"Stop, if you don't—"

But all of a sudden, she's staring at something past me. I turn around, and immediately I zoom in on the blinking red button next to the microphone that the principal uses to make announcements. So that's what Nathaniel was talking about. What a sneaky little student president!

"N-no," I hear her mutter, "that can't be…"

I don't wait to let her finish putting it together. Before she can attack me, I run off, back into the hallway. I don't make it very far, though; she grabs me by the arm, yanking me back and throwing me against the lockers. Sure enough, she is much stronger than she looks. "You little pest," she hisses, pressing her fingers so hard against my skin that I can already feel the bruises forming. "You knew about that the entire time."

Disregarding the fact that I was actually ignorant to that part of the plan, she's actually hurting me. "Stop, let go!"

"How dare you?!" There's no calculation or plotting or ulterior motives behind her raised fist; she wants to make this hurt. I hold my hands out, trying to push her away or keep her from hitting me, but I close my eyes. I wait for some type of impact, but it never comes. "What!?" When I crack open my eyes, I see that someone has their fingers wrapped around her arm, holding her back — Castiel.

I try to read his expression, but all I can see is pure, unbridled fury. "An idiot… Is that what you called me?"

"Y-you just misunderstood me, Cas," she says, finally releasing me so that she can turn towards him. Sure enough, the waterworks are going (and unfortunately, they're still very convincing). "I-I didn't mean it like that."

"That sounds familiar," he says, scoffing as he folds his arms across his chest. "Not long ago, Aome was saying the same thing… Only she had actual reason to be calling me names." I feel my cheeks heat up in embarrassment; everyone is crowding around, and the last thing I need is everyone knowing that I cried.

"I-it wasn't real," she insists. "I didn't mean it. Y-you know how much you mean to me—"

"Can it, Deborah," Rosalya chimes in, swooping in front the side to wrap an arm around me. "We all heard you. You're not that great of an actress."

Violette looks like she's about to cry. If I weren't someone who cried every time I saw someone else cry, I'd say she deserves it. "Do you really think that we're just a school full of idiots?" she asks, her voice quiet.

"O-of course not!" Deborah says, but it's too late. Violette looks absolutely heartbroken. "It was a joke! You know I love you, Violette; we're friends! We're the best of friends!" She looks around at the others, who either look disgusted or refuse to make eye contact with her. I'm getting some hella deja vu from this. "Why don't any of you believe me? After all that we've done together, you won't believe me over a tiny little joke?"

"That was meant to be a joke?" Iris asks. She looks at me, makes eye contact, and lowers her eyes in shame. "What a cruel joke… And I doubted Aome… She would never have said something like that, even as a joke."

Lip quivering, Deborah turns to Castiel. "Cas, Kitten, please… Please, you have to believe me."

He tilts his chin up, so that he's looking down at her, but he doesn't sever eye contact. I can practically feel the ice the in air when he says, "I think it's time you left, Deborah. Permanently."

For a second, she smiles, like this is all a joke, like it isn't actually happening. It drops a couple of times, resurfacing, before her lips finally settle into a desperate frown. "I… I was just…. I'd just wanted. It was… It was a joke, and I…" But as she looks around, looking into the faces that no longer believe her, she knows that this is it — this really is the end. Deborah turns to look at me, but I can't bring myself to smile or whoop or rub it in her face; all I can do is shake my head. "I…"

When she leaves crying, they're real tears.

For a second, all I feel is pure, unadulterated happiness. It worked. It worked! Oh my God, I can't believe it actually worked! I look around, making eye contact with Rosalya, Leigh, Alexy, Nathaniel, Ken — they all look just as happy as I feel. I skim over Violette, Iris, Kim, and Melody, all of whom refuse to look directly at me anyway, unintentionally directing my attention to Castiel. He catches my gaze immediately, and his brows, his eyes, his lips all fall. For a second I think he's trying to ignore me, but it doesn't take me long to recognize the shame and self disappointment and anger. I forget about everyone else in that brief moment, the ones who stood behind me and the ones who let me fall, and despite everything I try to move towards Castiel.

"Break it up, break it up!" The principal plows through the crowd, pushing everyone aside and all but knocking Castiel out of my line of sight. "Honestly, you lot…" She stands in front of me, huffing and pushing her hair out of her face, before clearing her throat. "It looks as though things have changed, Ms. Sauveterre. I'd like to see you in my office."

Good Lord, what could I have possibly done wrong now? "Right now?" She shoots me a look that tells me that there are, in fact, stupid questions. "Right, right, yes, ma'am…" I shuffle into the office behind her, mouthing a half-hearted "help me" at Rosalya, who just grins and shoots me two thumbs up. I glance over my shoulder into the hallway as the door shuts, where there are only a couple of stragglers left. There's a flash of red, and then it's gone.

I've been giving Nathaniel a lot of shit these last couple of days, but he really pulls through. He apparently gave Mrs. Shermanski a pretty good talking to about calling me out in front of everyone and basically being an unfair twat. I don't really remember much of the conversation because 1) it was one-sided and 2) my mind was in a million other places, but what did stick was, "... and I'll be revoking your detention and your ban from spring clubs and sports. Again, I apologize for acting so hastily, Aome; it was incredibly unprofessional of me."

I'm practically skipping when I leave her office. Track! Art club! Freedom!

"You look happy," Rosalya says, pulling me into a hug as soon as I step out the door into the courtyard.

"I am happy," I say. It's hard not to grin when she's beaming at me so brightly. "I can't believe that actually worked."

"Well, I am the one who planned it…"

"And also the one who almost ruined it!" I say, smacking her arm gently. She cringes at the accusation, but doesn't deny practically pouncing Deborah on the spot. "I can't believe you totally blew the cover like that!"

She huffs, hardly looking apologetic at all. "You saw the way she was wiping her grimy little paws all over my man!" she says, throwing her arms up into the air dramatically. "It's like no one ever taught her how to keep her hands to herself!"

I deadpan. "Like you said, you were the one who planned it."

"Okay, listen—"

"Aome." Every hair on my arm raises at the sound of Castiel's voice. He's standing a bit off to the side, his head hung low and his hands shoved into his pockets. I wait for him to follow up, but there's a long, uncomfortable pause before he finally asks, "Can I talk to you for a second?"

Rosalya shoots me a warning look, which I try to ignore as I deal with the conflicting voices in my head. "Sure," I say, going against the majority, and earning a painful stomp from the former. "Ow! Yeah, yeah, sure," I say, trying to swat her away inconspicuously (and failing). "Um, let's go somewhere else."

We head over to the little garden behind the school, with me in the lead. My heart is already starting to pound and my hands are clammy. Maybe this wasn't the best idea.

I scour my brain for some way to start The Conversation. Should I start yelling at him? He definitely deserves it. But he looked so heartbroken earlier… Maybe I should comfort him? No, no, remember how he made you feel; he should be comforting you. But hold on — he's the one who wanted to talk. Maybe he does wanna comfort you. Or yell at you some more. That's more likely, probably. Shit.

"I fucked up."

I blink when he's the first one to speak. "What?"

Castiel scowls, though I know it's not directed at me. He kicks at the ground, digging up some dirt and poor plant in the process. "I fucked up," he repeats himself, this time making sure to look me in the eye. "I can't even… I can't even fucking apologize because of how bad I fucked up. It'd be worthless. God, Aome, I…" He drags his fingers through his hair, exhaling loudly. "After what I said, you're still willing to talk to me."

I'm not really sure what to say. Honestly, I hadn't expected him to want to talk to me; he looked pretty crushed after Deborah revealed herself, and Castiel's never been someone who wants to talk about his feelings. I'd been on such a high from everything actually working out (after days of failure and crying and losing) that I momentarily forgot about how mad I am at him. If he had given me some more time, I would have a righteous, angry speech prepared; however, he did not, so I'm just standing here gaping at him like a fish out of water.

The super uncomfortable silence tells me that he's expecting me to say something.

"So what do you wanna say, then?" I ask. I don't even know if I want him to apologize. Castiel isn't wrong — what he said hurt so much, I don't know if apologizing is even worth it. I don't know why I'm willing to talk to him, why I'm even willing to stand in the same space as him right now. Everything is flooding back at once now: the confrontation, the anger, the spite, the words, the cruelty. He's apologized a handful of times in the last couple of days, but it doesn't take all of that away.

"I don't know."

"Then what are we doing here?"

He sets his jaw, and for a second I think he's gonna spew out some witty retort. (That's what I'd expect from Castiel anyway.) But he doesn't say anything, just groans, as he shoves his hands into his pockets and sits down on the stoop of the greenhouse. "I don't know."

Part of me just wants to leave him here, the part of me that's bitter and hurt and still sad. But the other part of me, the part that cares and remembers and honestly yearns for his friendship again, sits me right next to him. I can feel his body tense, just for a second, when my shoulder brushes against his. "I'd ask you if you were okay, but that'd win the Stupid Question of the Year Award."

Even if it's just a ghost of a smile, it makes my pulse speed up.

After another long pause, he finally speaks up. "I'm a real idiot." It's not a question, and to be frank I don't disagree. "I should've known. She dropped me last year, and I should have known, but… God, I'm such an idiot," he groans, dropping his face into his hands. "I let her get to me because I wanted to believe her, because…"

Because you were still in love with her.

He doesn't have to say it — we both know it's true. Even if it's something I've been suspecting for a while now, it still adds a little extra sting to the wound. I didn't know it was possible to feel worse, but… here I am.

I don't know what to say to comfort him. I could say that he just wanted to take his chance to get out of here, to launch his career, to do something big with his music. But that would be justifying what he said and did, and I can't do that. Even if he genuinely believed that Deborah was back for him and that she wanted to continue her career with him, even if he honestly thought that it was for the best — it doesn't take away the way he spoke to me. Even if he didn't mean it, he still said it, and there's always gonna be some iota of truth to it.

"I'm so sorry, Aome." His apology makes my ears ring, even if I don't fully feel it in my heart yet. It's barely above a whisper, but it's the most sincere I've heard. "I fucked up."

Pressing my lips together, I wrap my arms around myself and dig at the dirt in front of me. "Yeah," I say.

I don't know what we are or where we're going. I don't know if I feel relieved or sad or better or worse. I just know that I'm confused, and so is he.

Closing Song: "Out of the Woods" - Taylor Swift

Again, thank you all so much for your sweet reviews! :*

xoxo