“WHAT?!”
“He still loves you, Sam.”
We stare at each other for the longest few moments in history with my heart caught in my throat, trying to anticipate what she’s going to say or do next. Her expression is so indecipherable, I’m not entirely convinced she isn’t going to go ape shit and tear the apartment to pieces with me inside of it.
“Sam?” I venture slowly.
Within seconds, and without any kind of warning, she drops her head to the table and begins sobbing uncontrollably, clutching the fabric of the tablecloth with white-knuckled force as she does so. I don’t even think about it before I run over to throw my arms over her shoulders in comfort. However, I doubt she even realizes I’m there. She just cries and cries, so hard, even Bowie begins to stir from the sofa.
As if hearing him herself, she suddenly looks up and grabs hold of my upper arms with pure desperation in her eyes.
“Promise me you won’t go, Millie?” I nod my head vigorously just to try and calm her. “And promise me to be wary of Matt, won’t you?”
“Ok, but I don’t think he’s-”
“Just promise me, Millie!” She grips on tighter to me, looking like she’s going into some sort of manic breakdown.
“Ok, ok, I promise,” I reply, feeling a little worried for her now. “I think I should wake your brother, Sam.”
She suddenly jumps up and wipes her eyes, even though she now has mascara running down her red, puffy cheeks.
“No, it’s ok,” she says decidedly as though the past five minutes haven’t even happened. “I’ll go and clean myself up. This is just between you and me, ok?”
Reluctantly, I nod, and she makes a dash for her room, and not coming out for another twenty minutes or so. When she does eventually return, she looks like a completely different person, just as carefree and cheerful as before. I tentatively play along but inwardly decide I need to have a conversation which I’ve desperately been putting off with Bowie. And sooner rather than later.
Chapter 27
Amelia
We arrive home late Sunday night, and seeing as we’re heading straight out for Stanford in the morning, Bowie stayed over. We both must have passed out sometime between nine and ten.
The whole way back I had thought about Matt, Sam, and my brother, before eventually coming to the conclusion that I need to talk about all three of them with Bowie, and soon. And when I say ‘talk’, I mean confess. If it were the other way round, I would want to know if he was seeing Melody on the down-low. I’d also want to know about him seeing someone who I believed had hurt my sibling.
I even tried bringing up the subject of Matt last night, in the car, but he was so tired, and I was overwhelmingly nervous about it, so I kept quiet. Of course, I’m making excuses not to delve into it, procrastinating, because I know how my news is going to go down; dramatically with a side serving of guilt on the side.
In the morning, Bowie wakes with a horrendous headache, complete with shakes and nausea, which doesn’t surprise me with the emotional weekend we’ve just had, not to mention all the driving. Disappointingly, it puts a halt to our plans to go to Stanford, so I instruct him to stay put while I head into school.
School is pretty much the same old, same old, with the usual gossip over who’s been doing who and who’s had Botox injected into their lips over the holidays. People occasionally look at me and my absent boyfriend, then mutter something with a giggle to their friends, but otherwise, I’m left alone. When lunchtime swings by, I make my way enthusiastically into the hall hoping to catch Mercy, someone I haven’t seen since before Christmas.
I feel like I’ve been neglecting my bestie since getting together with Bowie, which has me berating myself for being that annoying girl who ditches her friends the moment she falls for a boy. However, being the amazing friend that she is, she doesn’t even bat an eyelash over my neglect. I sit down next to my wild-haired friend and talk like we’re just continuing from where we left off the last time we hung out. She tells me about her new love interest and how they had a rather intimate encounter in the boy’s changing room, and I tell her about seeing Sam over the weekend.
“Hello Ladies, mind if I join you?” A perky Matt grins down at us, completely ignoring Mercy’s frown, as I smile and shuffle up so he can sit next to me. Things seem normal, less fraught than they normally are, and I savor it before the next crisis lands on my lap to spoil the bliss of monotony. “Where’s Bowie?”
“Migraine,” I explain with one word. “I did text him earlier, but he must be out of it still.”
“Have you heard back from any colleges yet?” Matt asks us, although I already know Mercy has deferred for a year so she can go traveling. As for me, I heard back earlier this week and have been waiting to tell Bowie when he finally gets his reply. But seeing as I haven’t told anyone yet, the excitement gets the better of me and I end up grinning, thus giving it away completely.
“That’s excellent news, Millie!” Mercy high fives me just as I feel Matt wrap his arms around me from behind.
“Well, well, well!”
Those words, laced in accusation, have all three of us turning to look up and find Bowie looking deathly pale and extremely pissed-off at the scene before him.
“Why am I not surprised to see you all over my girlfriend?”
“Bowie, don’t be ridiculous!” I try to get up to embrace him, but he throws his hand out to stop me from getting anywhere near him. “Bowie, he was just congratulating me for getting into Stanford, it’s no big deal!” I explain rather huffily. “I wanted to wait until you got your letter before I told you.”
“Yeah, caveman,” Mercy scoffs at his over-reaction, “no need to get your panties in a twist!”
“Well, talking of panties,” Bowie announces before pulling out a pair of male briefs and throwing them with disgust onto the table. “Who the fuck do these belong to?” He shoots a murderous look my way at the same time as I look at him as if he’s gone mad. “Because they sure as hell aren’t mine, sweetheart!”
“I have no idea! Where did you get them from?” I put my hands on my hips, beginning to get a little annoyed with his shitty attitude. What the hell is he playing at?
“Well, that’s the best part, Amelia,” he leans back, feigning both shock and innocence, together with his eyebrows reaching up towards his hairline. “I found them in your bed!”
My eyes double in size as I scan the offending piece of clothing on the table and wonder how the hell they got inside my bed. It’s like one of those bad dreams which you have to question as to whether or not it’s real, only, unfortunately, I appear to be fully conscious.
The taunting, red shorts, stare back at me without an answer, and with the rest of the school hall beginning to look over at the next episode of drama on the Amelia Thomas show.
“I…I…,” I can’t explain because I have no explanation, “they’re…”
“Save it!” he bites back at me and storms out the hall, slamming the doors as he does so.
For a moment, I remain rooted to the spot with my mouth hanging open, still eyeing the boxers which have caused my boyfriend to doubt my faithfulness to him.
“Millie?” Matt ventures but I’m already up and bolting after Bowie, following his trail of destruction, from overturned trash cans to dents in random lockers. It’s not until I get outside that I see him bracing up against a tree, looking like death, still desperately trying to fight off the effects of his migraine. I run over to him, wanting to kick his ass for getting out of bed in the first place and to also try and comfort him, but he just shucks me off aggressively.
“Bowie, I have no idea where those things came from,” I race the words out as quick as I can. “Come on, you know me, I would never cheat on you. I lost my virginity to you for Christ’s sake!”
“Exactly! Maybe you want to see what it’s like with other guys now!” he snarls and stands up to his full six-foot-three frame, which easily over-shadows my five-three one.<
br />
“Seriously?” I shout angrily. “You really think that’s me? That that’s what I’m capable of?”
“I don’t know, Millie, but I do know that when I reached my foot down into your bed this morning, the rancid things got stuck between my toes! I had to burn off the first few layers of skin to get rid of the thought of another man’s junk all over them.”
“Bowie…”
“They’re mine,” a small, familiar voice mutters from behind us.
In slow motion, we both turn around to see Matt looking rather sheepish, with his hands in his pockets, hunched over in guilt. My immediate reaction is to turn back to Bowie, who now looks like he’s going to burn the school down with Matt and I tied firmly to the flagpole, both mangled and flambéed. He frowns with a deep-set crevice between his eyes before pointing between us and turning a nasty shade of puce.
“No, no, no!” Matt stutters and shoves his hands out defensively. “It’s not what you think. Mils had nothing to do with it, I swear!” This time both of us swing our confused gazes back to Matt who is rubbing his neck in awkward circles. “After our fight at school, I was mad at you. I guess I wanted to ruin things for you,” he explains, swinging his hand out towards Bowie, “I had meant to get them out, but then Millie and I ended up watching Christmas movies, chilling out-”
“Wait! What?” Bowie jumps back and looks like the whole world has been conspiring against him and all of it orchestrated by yours truly. “You two have been hanging out together? And him with no underwear on?!”
I close my eyes and nod my head guiltily, knowing I should have had this conversation with him long before now.
“Oh, I thought you would have told him,” Matt whispers to me, just loud enough for Bowie to hear.
“Yeah, Babe, maybe you should have told me!” Bowie bites back, then starts to walk away again.
“Wait!” I call, grabbing for his arm, “I know I should have told you, but I’ve been greedily enjoying my time with you and I knew you wouldn’t like it so-”
“Look, Bowie, it was no big deal! I told Millie I was going to accept she was just a friend so that’s what I was being. She was a bit upset about Grant and I was just there to listen.”
I brace myself for it, but Bowie seems to soften, as though hearing I was upset is enough for him to forgive me. He surprises me by slowly turning around to look at me, thus giving me the opportunity to mouth, “I’m sorry,” which seems to be enough for him to reach out and wrap his protective arms around my shoulders. I slump against him, feeling relieved, even though the whole ordeal has probably wiped years from my life.
“Is the dramarama finished yet?” Mercy saunters over casually, still lazily eating her yogurt with a plastic spoon.
Bowie leans down and kisses the top of my head and I wrap my arms even more tightly around him before he can get away again.
“Are we cool, man?” Matt asks. “I was a dick, I admit it.”
“I guess,” Bowie mutters, “you owned up to it, but you keep your skanky pants away from the both of us from now on, got it?”
“No problem,” Matt holds his hands up before both of them bump their fists together, followed by embarrassed blushing over their mildly gushy moment. My heart, on the other hand, soars a little bit.
I pull Bowie, who is still looking a little green, over to a bench outside where we all end up sitting for the rest of lunch. I want him to have a few minutes before I drag his sickly butt home. The sun is shining and it’s rather mild for a day in January. It’s also the first time ever that I’ve sat with all of my friends without a World War erupting between any of us. Bowie even tells us his head is feeling better, then pulls me into his chest, where I feel a certain something stirring from below. He merely smiles and waggles his eyebrows about just as I nudge him in the ribs. Not only that, but Mercy is making an effort with Matt, even if it is to argue about some Game of Thrones episode. I can’t say I’ve ever watched it, which I am ruthlessly told off for.
“So, Mils, did you take Tibbs to see Grant?” Matt calls out to me, cutting all conversation dead. I freeze in Bowie’s arms and I notice his grip on me has suddenly dropped.
“W-what?!” he growls angrily through his teeth. “What the fuck is he talking about, Millie?”
He immediately stands away from me and my body turns cold, all the while Matt and Mercy, who are sitting just as still as I am, look on in horror. I sigh deeply, bracing myself before eventually standing up slowly to face him. If I thought he looked angry about the boxers, he looks positively murderous now.
“I was going to tell you, Bowie,” I murmur so quietly I wonder if he even heard me.
“Tell me what?!” he bellows, making me jump.
“Hey, man, look, this is my fault. Millie asked me to keep quiet about it and I’ve gone and opened my big fucking mouth!” Matt flusters to his feet, obviously trying to fight my cause, even though it would just be better all-round if he kept the hell out of it.
“Oh, how fucking big of you, Millie!” Bowie throws his arms out theatrically. “So, you confided in your best friend, Matt, that you’ve been seeing the raping cunt who attacked my sister? Is that it?”
“Bowie, please-”
“Tell me how many times, Millie! How many times did you see him before visiting my sister this weekend?” I hear Mercy take in an audible gasp at the same time as Matt mutters, ‘shit’, under his breath. I remain staring at him in guilty silence, wanting to tell him about as much as I want to run the New York marathon in a pair of flip-flops. “How many fucking times?!”
“Three,” I eventually admit.
“Don’t ever fucking speak to me again,” he snarls with an eerily calm voice and narrowed slits for eyes, “you mean nothing to me!”
“B-but…you gave me your heart,” I whimper and try to reach out for him.
“I’m taking it back, you’re not who I thought you were!” he roars. “You’re nothing but an insensitive bitch whose brother is a Goddam rapist. Sleep with as many men as you like, whore yourself out for all I care! We’re done!”
“No!” I shake my head as the tears flow freely from my eyes.
Matt throws himself between us, acting like a buffer between two angry bulls, then hugs me, trying to protect me from Bowie’s temper, which threatens to destroy me with both his words and his icy glare. As my sobs turn me into a trembling wreck, Matt eventually turns me away from Bowie so I can no longer see the hateful expression written all over his face.
I should have savored my moment of happiness a little harder because now I’m back to feeling like that pathetic girl on the verge of a darkening depression all over again.
Bowie
I’m fucking fuming but when I look over at Matt wrapping his grubby arms around Amelia, I am literally wrestling with my dark thoughts to go and murder him with my own two hands. I momentarily have to talk myself down from what I want to do to the asshole, even if this is on Millie and not him. At this moment in time, he has his greedy hands all over the girl who was mine only two seconds ago, right before I found out she had betrayed both me and my sister.
The last thing I expect to see is him smiling over her shoulder at me, looking like the smug bastard who got the cream. It’s taunting, threatening, and telling me that this was all part of his plan to finally get the girl he’s been obsessed with for years. The fucker has well and truly set both of us up, but what the hell am I supposed to do now? The only person who seems to have come to the same realization as me, is Mercy of all damn people.
Like a complete Neanderthal, I kick the nearest bin over before getting the hell out of there. I don’t want to hear her crying; I don’t want to hear the motherfucker comforting her and I certainly don’t want to hear whatever the hell Mercy has to say when she’s caught up with me. Turns out I don’t have a lot of choice with that last one.
“Hey, dickface!” Mercy spins me around but instantly falls back when she sees the motherfucking angry glare I have on my face. “You saw what ha
ppened there, didn’t you?”
“Leave me the hell alone, Mercy!” I jab my finger out towards her, hoping she’ll get the fucking memo loud and clear, the one that says I’m ready to maim, kill, and wipe out the entire school if I have to.
“No!” she shouts back and smacks my finger to the side, which I should have known she’d do, given the fact that she frequently gives less shits than I do. “Did you really think she would turn her back on her brother, aka, her mother, father, and brother all in one?”
“She lied to me!”
“No, she omitted the truth,” she argues but it’s a pretty piss poor argument. “And maybe she was an idiot for not telling you, but the fact is she knew you’d react like a cunt and true to form, you haven’t surprised anyone have you?”
The Darkness Within Page 30