by Lucy Vine
After a too-long silence, Dom pastes on a clearly fake smile and says a little too forcefully, ‘Yes, let’s send that shit-for-brains scumbag a picture of us, why not eh?’
He takes the phone from my hand, his long arms better than a selfie stick, and clicks the shot. He hands it back to me dismissively, without examining the picture, turning immediately away to talk to Patrick.
I feel a bit stung. I really don’t know why he’s being weird. I don’t think anything’s happened, has it? I thought he was at least marginally excited about today as well. Maybe he’s annoyed that Isy and Ethan are here? I didn’t have a chance to warn him beforehand. It can’t be a problem with Patrick being here. They get on super well because of something about American football and the Super Bowl, which no British person will ever understand. The only thing I know about the Super Bowl is that the adverts are really important, right?
Feeling weird, I read TD’s message. For once, it contains proper words and multiple syllables.
It is surprising.
‘Hey Alice,’ it reads. ‘I hope you’re having a fun time out there. It feels like you’ve been gone ages. I know I don’t deserve it but maybe we can grab a drink when you get back and have a chat about everything. I miss you.’
For a second, something in me leaps: hope.
I force it back down again. No! Ugh TD. I know he isn’t for real – that this isn’t for real. I’ve seen him do this before. He’ll treat me badly; I’ll swear off him. He’ll call; I’ll go back. He’ll treat me like shit again; and I’ll swear off him for definite this time. Maybe I’ll last a few weeks; then he’ll say something charming and apparently heartfelt – like this – and I’ll give in.
But not this time.
Not. This. Fucking. Time.
But maybe . . .
What if . . .
Maybe he means it this time? Maybe this is different. Maybe me being away has genuinely made him look at his life and change his ways. Maybe he’s realised I am what he wants – that I am The One – and everything will be good between us again, like it was at the beginning. Maybe the last few years haven’t been a waste of my time. Maybe maybe maybe.
I hate the way my brain and heart are different people. I hate it so much. I hate that I – my rational me – knows, knows, that me and TD are not meant to be together. I absolutely know this, and I know that every time I reply or go back to him, I am making myself into a fool. I am being used, and being a user. I know it makes me just another stupid lovesick idiot. So why does the other me still want him? How can the other me still have this vain hope?
It makes me hate myself, which makes me more vulnerable, which makes me more inclined to give in. It’s a vicious circle or cycle – I never know which – that I wish I could escape.
We are nearing the front of the queue and in a quick-flash decision – a moment of strength – I delete TD’s message and I block him.
I breathe out. A weight falls away from me. I’ve done it. I know it’s the right thing. It has to be. I can’t waste this brain space on him any more. Do I really want to still be having these arguments in my head in another four years? I can’t do it, I can’t.
I take another gulp of oxygen and it is like new air in my lungs.
I reach for Dom’s hand. He lets me take it, squeezes mine, but then pulls away. I guess, whatever I’ve done to upset him, I’m not forgiven yet.
Our group files onto the ride, and I find myself sitting opposite Dom in a circle. He looks off into the distance and I kick his shoe gently as the attendant makes his way round checking everyone is strapped in safely.
‘Are you OK?’ I mouth silently when he looks over at last.
He gives me a dismissive thumbs up and looks away again. I reach over, the belt straining against me, and put my hand on his leg. ‘What is it?’ I say, out loud. I feel Patrick glance over at us, but I don’t care.
Dom shrugs, as the ride attendant passes our way.
‘Have I done something?’ I say, louder this time.
‘Nope,’ he says, aggressively.
The ride starts.
‘Why are you being so moody, then?’ I say, anger in my voice as we begin to move.
He’s ignoring me! For no reason. I don’t deserve this, I don’t even know where it’s all come from!
‘I’m NOT BEING MOODY,’ he shouts, looking away again as we start to swing into the air.
‘FINE,’ I shout back, and slump into the seat, determined to enjoy myself despite the sulking child across from me. If he doesn’t want to talk to me, that’s great, I’ll just ignore him and have fun. I don’t need his weirdness.
But suddenly he is talking again. ‘I just think you could be honest with me and say if you’re done with this, rather than making it so obvious. It’s a bit of a shitty way to treat someone,’ he says loudly, as we turn upside down.
‘You fucking WHAT?’ I shout, over the roar of the rollercoaster. What is he talking about? Done with this? With what? With this fling?
‘I mean, we’ve had fun, Alice, but we both knew what this was,’ he is almost screaming.
‘I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE – ARRRRRGGGGHHHHHHHHH – TALKING ABOUT,’ I shriek back, thrown around in my seat like a rag doll. It’s like being back in Dom’s Uber car.
‘WHATEVER AL – ARRRRGGHHHHHHHHHHHH – YOU ARE CLEARLY DONE, YOU CLEARLY DON’T LIKE ME ANY MORE.’
‘I AM SO CONFUSED, DOM – ARGGGGHHHHHHHH.’
‘YOU CLEARLY DON’T WANT TO BE ALONE WITH – WAAHHHHHHHHHH – MEEEEEE.’
‘BECAUSE PATRICK AND ISY ARE HERE?’ I scream, still baffled.
Ethan waves angrily at me, flailing in his seat. ‘ER, EXCUSE ME, I’M HERE TOO,’ he shouts irrelevantly.
‘OK, SORRY,’ I concede, still yelling into the wind. ‘YOU THINK I DON’T WANT TO BE ALONE WITH YOU BECAUSE PATRICK AND ISY AND ETHAN ARE HERE TOOOOOOOOAAAAAAARRRGGGHHHHH?’
Dom’s hair is all over his face as his reply hits me in the face.
‘STOP PLAYING DUMB, ALICE. I CAN SEE YOU FANCY PATRICK, IT’S FUCKING OBVIOU – WAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH – IT’S OBVIOUS YOU DOOOOO.’
We go into a tunnel and our group falls silent in the pitch black. I am panting with adrenaline and fury. I fancy Patrick? Where is this coming from? I think Patrick is brilliant as a new friend, but I have no designs on him. It hadn’t even occurred to me to try anything. Sure we get on really well, but I thought Dom got on great with Patrick, too. We’ve spent the last few days with him, but I could swear Dom invited him along as much as I did. And ultimately, it’s Dom I’ve been going home with at the end of every day.
We emerge from the tunnel and Dom looks angry and sweaty. Patrick is staring awkwardly upwards – which is soon downwards as we flip over again.
I am seething. This is so uncool. What right does Dom have to tell me who I should or shouldn’t be fancying, anyway? It’s not like he’s my boyfriend. I have so much I want to shout at him, but we can’t keep having this argument on a rollercoaster. It’s awkward, sure, but it’s also just really difficult and my throat is starting to hurt from shouting over the noise.
But Dom isn’t done. ‘AND IT’S NOT JUST PATRICK. YOU THROW YOUR EX SHIT IN MY FACE ALL THE TIME. I KNOW YOU’RE NOT OVER TWAT DAN.’
I almost laugh. ‘OH, HOW COULD YOU POSSIBLY KNOW THAT, DOM?’ I shout. ‘IS IT BECAUSE I SPECIFICALLY TOLD YOU THAT I’M NOT OVER HIM? MANY TIMES? IS IT BECAUSE OF THAT? IS THAT HOW YOU CAME TO THAT CLEVER DEDUCTION? CONGRATULATIONS YOU FUCKING POIROT PRAT.’
I think the Poirot insult might’ve been lost on the wind, but Dom responds immediately anyway. ‘DID YOU SEND HIM THAT SELFIE THEN? DID YOU MAKE HIM JEALOUS? WAS I OF USE TO – WAHHHHHHHHH – YOU?’
‘I DIDN’T ACTUALLLLLLLLLLLLY.’ We veer off to the right. ‘I BLOCKED HIM ACTUALLY. BUT IT’S REALLY NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS EITHER WAY. YOU KNEW WHAT THIS WAA
AAAAAAAAAAAS BETWEEN US. I’M LEAVING IN LESS THAN A – ARRGGHHHHHHHHHH – WEEK! IT’S NOT LIKE THIS WAS EVER SERIOUUUUUUUUSSSSSSSSSSSSS.’
‘SOUNDS LIKE IT’S COME TO AN – WAHHHHHHHHH – END THEN DOESN’T IT, ALICE? I’VE SERVED MY PURPOSE FOR YOU HAVEN’T IIIIIIIIIIIIII? WHAT A SHITTY SAD END TO THINGS. YOU GO OFF AND FUCK PATRICK THEN AND I’LL GO FUCK MORE OF MY PASSENGERS – WARRRRGGHHHHHHHHHH!’
I am thrown back in my chair suddenly, as we pull up, back where we started. All five of us are breathless and silent. I yank at my strap, impatient to get out. I want to get away from this fury. Away from this humiliation. Away from Dom, away from Patrick, away from Isy, away from the pretentious dick on her arm. The belt around me comes loose at last and I climb frantically out of my seat.
As I storm away, I make eye contact with the little girl from the queue. She gives me a pitying look and I mentally order her to never grow up.
12
AWOL.COM/Alice Edwards’ Travel Blog: Living My Dream and Feeling Very #Blessed
14 May – 6.03 p.m.
Good evening, dream chasers,
I have but a matter of days left on this LA journey, and I am all set to finish on a high – with a #spontaneous trip to Palm Springs. It is a place rich in history and culture, with humans first settling there two thousand years ago and living in isolation for hundreds of years. I found this out from Wikipedia because it is important to dig deep and research a place before you go.
Anyway, I am not expecting much to have changed in this peaceful ‘desert resort city in Riverside County’ (source: Wikipedia). I cannot wait to get away from the tourists to explore this place full of quiet joy and locals. I am going with my wonderful friend Patrick, who is very cool. We are going horseback riding, swimming and we plan to play tennis (recommended by: Wikipedia). It will be a very sedate, health-filled final few days here.
Peace be with you,
Alice x
PS. Did you know there is also a Palm Springs in Hong Kong? (source: Wikipedia)
#PalmSpring #SpringRoll #SpringAwakening #ThanksWikipedia #TravelBlogger #GoneAWOL #AliceEdwardsBlog #Blessed #Brave #DreamChaser
8 Comments · 12 AWOLs · 19 Super Likes
COMMENTS:
Kirpa Saul
| Is it Spring Break? You have to somehow get yourself on camera dancing for an MTV show.
Mark Edwards
| You are such a cliché, Al. If you post a photo of yourself in jodhpurs, I will never let you live it down.
Hannah Edwards
Replying to Mark Edwards
| dont tease your little sister mark we miss u alice txt me
Sarah Sommers
| Been there, done that, copped off with a college student, lol!
Noah Deer
| You should check out the Cabazon Dinosaurs! They’re great. If you’re a geek like me.
Karen Gill
| I’m desperate to go to Coachella. Group trip next year?
Eva Slate
| I’m ready on my computer whenever you are!!
Alice Edwards
Replying to Eva Slate
| Signing in now xx
‘I’m so happy to see you!’ Eva is squealing through my computer screen. ‘I’ve hardly heard from you lately, are you having the best time ever?’
I laugh, turning up the volume on my Skype. ‘I really am! I’m so buzzed to check out Palm Springs tomorrow.’
‘Are you going with your sexy Uber driver friend?’ she leans in excitedly. I bite my lip. I haven’t spoken to Dom since our fight at Disneyland. After I stormed off, Patrick came to find me and the pair of us half-heartedly went on a few more rides, before eventually heading home, where we got drunk and watched WrestleMania boxsets for twenty-four straight hours.
Obviously, I was pretty upset about what had happened – no one enjoys a loud, humiliating break-up on a rollercoaster – but I am also determined to remain positive. Me and Dom were only meant to be a short-term, fun thing anyway, and I’m leaving on Monday. It had to end some time. I’m just disappointed it imploded so dramatically, instead of with a wave and a hug. So, oh well, really. And Patrick’s been really nice and cheerful, it’s helped a lot. We have not mentioned that part of the fight where Dom accused me of crushing on Patrick, and have focused instead on distractions and fun. He suggested taking this trip to Palm Springs for my last few days, and I jumped on the opportunity. He has a car and a friend down there we can stay with. I’m really excited.
Pretending to study my nails, I say carefully, ‘Um, no. I’m going with my new pal, Patrick.’
‘Ooh, the surfer dude AirBnB host?’ she says, clapping her hands.
I nod, suddenly feeling weird that I haven’t told Eva about the argument with Dom yet. Usually we text all day every day, but I haven’t messaged her properly in days. Weeks. Not since I left the country, really. I know I’ve been distant since I got here, but I wanted to saturate myself in this other life. I wanted to get away from all reminders of home, which – sorry Eva – includes my pregnant best friend. It also includes my brother, who’s messaged me several times these last couple of weeks asking for a chat, and who I’ve repeatedly given the major brush-off.
‘So how are you feeling?’ I say, changing the subject before she can ask any more questions.
She makes a face. ‘Tired, miserable, hungry,’ she says, sighing. Then she pulls up her jumper to show me her belly, where there is the tiniest hint of a bump. ‘Look, she’s starting to make herself known.’
‘She?!’ I say, my voice high.
‘Oh!’ Eva laughs. ‘That’s just a guess. We don’t know yet, obviously.’
We. We. It still jars with me whenever she talks as a ‘we’. I hate the way couples do that. Like they can’t be an ‘I’ any more. Everything has to be responded to together, as a pair.
‘Will you find out the sex?’ I say, trying to sound interested. She looks thoughtful. ‘We’re not sure,’ she explains. ‘Jeremy says we shouldn’t. But I don’t know. It’s funny. I’m not sure he is quite there with me in this pregnancy yet. I don’t know how to explain it, but I don’t think it’s real for him yet. Like, for me, I can feel this thing inside me. I can’t avoid how real it is. My body is literally changing. I’m different already. But it’s all still the same for him. I guess parenthood won’t be real for him until she – or he – is physically here with us . . .’ She breaks off, and I wait for her to continue. ‘I feel a little . . .’ she stops and laughs awkwardly. ‘Sorry,’ she says. ‘I’m already being boring about pregnancy stuff, sorry.’
‘No, no, you’re not!’ I say hurriedly. ‘I want to hear about it. Are you . . . are things . . . OK between you guys?’
She nods, but it is not as effusive as I would expect. ‘Yes!’ she says, nodding some more. ‘It’s great, it just, I don’t know, it just feels . . . different.’
‘Well,’ I say slowly, unsure. ‘Things are bound to change a little. And they say men don’t ever get it until they can hold the baby in their arms, right?’
She nods again, her eyes wide. ‘Honestly, we’re fine – we’re brilliant! It’s just the hormones. You hear all the warnings about it, but you never really believe how weird you feel until you’re in it. But really, I’m fine!’ She chuckles, and her bravado is not very believable.
‘OK, Eva,’ I sigh. ‘You know where I am if you want to talk about any of this properly. I’m here for you.’
She laughs. ‘Well, you’re not really here for me for another couple of months yet!’
‘What do you mean by that?’ I say, feeling a little defensive. I’m still there for her. Just because I’m travelling doesn’t mean I’m not a good friend.
‘Oh, nothing! I didn’t mean anything by it, I promise,’ she says, smiling nicely. ‘I am just sad that you are so far away. It feels like we haven’t had time to talk
properly since you’ve been gone. You just seem a bit . . . distant.’ She goes on quickly. ‘And I know you’re having the trip of a lifetime, so I totally get it! And I’m so glad you’re happy.’ She pauses and then adds, ‘I just really miss you, Alice.’
There is a pause and I am not sure what to say. ‘I miss you too, Eva.’
After we say goodbye, I find myself feeling a bit cross. I’m having my very first big adventure out here. Eva doesn’t have to make me feel bad about it. I haven’t been distant, I’m just on a holiday! And even if I have been a bit, it’s only because I’ve been busy. And it’s not like she needs me anyway. She’s the one who went off and got herself a new family – a new boy best friend – behind my back. If I’ve gone and found myself a life that doesn’t involve checking in with her every five seconds, whose fault is that, really? If she hadn’t swanned off into the sunset with Jeremy and got herself knocked up, she could be out here with me, having this trip of a lifetime, too. But instead she’s settled for some bland loser, just because she thinks she’s reached the proper age and proper time to start Real Life.
But then, that’s what everyone seems to do. They decide it’s the right time to start their grown-up life, and whoever happens to come along next is suddenly The One.
I call bullshit.
And either way, I don’t have to sit around waiting for the friendship scraps from the table.
Fuck it, I can’t waste my last few days worrying whether or not Eva’s being funny with me. I’m going to pack for my Palm Springs trip.
13
AWOL.COM/Alice Edwards’ Travel Blog: Living My Dream and Feeling Very #Blessed
17 May – 5.17 p.m.
Good evening, dream chasers,
Well, here it is. After four long weeks, tomorrow evening I will depart my new home, here in the US. I shall be heading onwards and upwards to Thailand, even though I don’t think Thailand is technically upwards according to my globe.