Lason was so innocent, so pure. He had good grades, a wonderful family, he was whole. He was just being picked up from football, his dad gave him a congratulatory pat on the back, his hair was ruffled by his older brother Andreás, and a kiss from his mother. He loved his mother dearly, he didn’t really know much he loved her until he lost her. She had lung cancer, and she only lasted three short months. He remembered her soft hair always shining in the light, the smooth, black slacks she always wore, and how raspy her voice had sounded when she'd  scold him. Lason was devastated, she was his rock, his shoulder to lean on. He cried the day she died, but this time it was different.  Tears fell over his cheeks like a rushing stream over boulders, but he knew that it would be the last time his emotions were visible to the world.

           * * * * * * * * * * * *

A year later, after he turned seventeen, his grades spiraled down, and he was cut from the football team. Tommy Watson, a strong man, also the former linebacker, took Lason’s star quarterback spot. He was furious, and it only made his attitude worse. He treated girls like tissues, once he used her, he threw her away like the rest of them. His self esteem was as high as Mount Everest.  Lason walked into the classroom, and his grey eyes scanned the room. His eyes landed on a pale girl, with long red hair. He smirked when her bright, emerald eyes met his. He saw her gulp in fear, before whipping her head to the board, copying down today’s notes. He took his seat next to her’s, and looked down at her small frame,  

“Someone’s lookin’ good today. Tell me, Sydney...New hair?” He twirled a strand of her hair around his finger. She rolled her eyes, snatching her hair out of his hands, grimacing when some strands were ripped out of her skull, like when a hair-tie was pulled out of your hair from a long day. He pursed his lips. Then a sly smile grew on his face, “or maybe it’s the noticeable pounds you’ve packed on?” He noticed sydney’s change in demeanor. Her shoulders slouched in defeat, and her sad eyes continued to stare at the board.

His eyes flickered to the whiteboard, scribbling down the notes before Mr.Hanson erased them. The bell rang moments later, and Sydney raced out of the room. Lason chuckled, and threw the blank papers messily in his bag. It was the weekend and Lason planned to go to a party, drink away his stress, and forget about the world for just today.

Sydney walked home alone in the frigid rain, shivering, she pulled her grandmother’s vintage parka around herself. Her red hair was wet, slippery and now a deep auburn color. She reached her house, a small little abode with cherry red shutters and a brown roof. She resided with her grandma Ruby, a small, frail woman who took her in after her parents died in a house fire.

“Why hello dear! How was your day?” Ruby asks, stirring a pot of chicken and rice soup. Her cloudy blue eyes darted to the steaming pot of overcooked broccoli. “Oh drat! There goes the broccoli!” She took the fresh bread out of the oven and into to the microwave to keep warm. She looked at Sydney, waiting expectantly for her answer. Sydney cleared her throat, 

“It was okay, I guess.”

“Oh no, is it that darn boy again? I swear you come home with a new, terrible story of how he viciously tormented you at school! You need to stand up for yourself. If there’s one thing I learned, it was to never ever let a man control you or show you who’s boss. You show him who’s boss.” Ruby turned back and quickly poured the thick, porridge-like soup into grey, smooth ceramic bowls. Sydney and Ruby sat down in a comfortable silence.

“Or,” Ruby smirked deviously, “you could give him exactly what he gives to you. Make him pay.”

Lason went home and dressed into, well, something you would wear to a party. On his broad torso, he wore a black, tight shirt, and his long legs were dressed in soft, cotton  khaki pants. He sprayed some kind of blue cologne, hoping to attract the females in more ways than one. Lason stared at his reflection in the cool, glass mirror. He isn’t happy with himself and how he’d changed. He knew what he was doing to the emerald-eyed girl, and he didn’t seem to care.

Lason arrived at the party, and walked into the house. The party was being held at some girl’s house. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a familiar red-head--it was Sydney. She was here! He heard her giggle next to her curly haired friend, and her friend looked like someone you would see working at Target. He couldn’t help but get a little jealous as he stalked towards her. Her twinkling emerald eyes gazed up at him, and he smirked, putting his game face on.

“Well look what we have here! So nice of you to show up tonight, Syd. Is that your little boy toy?” He glared at Ashton, who was checking out a slender, tiny waisted brunette.

Ashton rolled his eyes, “Just go away Lason. Leave her alone, she didn’t do anything to you.”

“I believe I wasn’t speaking towards you, little Ashy. Beat it kid.”

Ashton quickly got up darting to his other friends. Lason took his precious spot next to her and continued to stare at her. Sydney kept her gaze at her feet, pretending to be interested in her brown, leather boots. She finally looked into his taunting grey eyes, “Why do you hate me? I haven’t done anything to give you a reason to.”

“Because it’s fun,” he answered simply. His voice cracked, letting his guard down. Sydney was fuming, this time she wasn’t going to let him get to her down.

Against the beat of the loud music, she yelled, “Oh my goodness! Are you insane?”  By now the music was gone and everybody stood silent. “You’ve been picking on me for fun? Who the hell does that? I have done absolutely nothing to you, all my life I’ve ignored you and this is what I get? You have no idea what it’s like going home in the pouring rain crying because of some tool. You have no idea what it’s like to have no one. This is so stupid thinking about it now. I’ve lowered myself to you when in reality, I’m a better person then you will ever be.” And with that, she walked out of the party, muttering ‘sorry’ to Ashton who was too busy with a brunette. She was frustrated beyond belief, maybe she was to

Lason watched as Sydney raced out of the house, but he wasn’t done with her yet. He was going to tell her.

“Sydney!” he called, “Sydney,  wait up!”
He watched as she turned to face him, tears already creating stains against her rosy cheeks.

“What now, Lason? What do you have to say that could make the situation worse than it already is?” She counters, eyes flashing with anger. Lason gulped, and then regained his composure.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “For everything. I didn’t notice until now how much pain I’ve caused you. For a while I was just making fun of you so I could hide my feelings and show you that I hated you, and that’s the problem. I hate the way your hair shines in the sunlight, and I hate the way your green eyes shimmer with happiness. I hate that you don’t care about the way you look, I hate how your laugh sounds angelic, and most of all, I hate that I don’t hate you. After my Mother’s death, I’ve changed everything about me and I hate it. I don’t want to lose you, or anything else that’s important to me.” By now, Sydney’s emerald eyes filled up with tears, threatening to spill.

Lason thought that maybe, if they tried, could make things work. They could fill the gaping hole in each other’s hearts if they gave it a shot. 

“So, what do we do now?” She asks, looking up at him as he walks up to her. He looks down and cups her face in his hands. She smiles, showing her dimples. His thumb rests in the indent. He kisses her and for a second, she doesn’t kiss him back but then she does, and it feels heavenly. His lips are soft against hers and she grins through the kiss.
Lason was whole again.