It's Not You It's Me

by Allison Rushby

  ‘Mmmm,’ is all I answer.

  We’re unloading the boot of the cab when Jas spots Sharon. ‘Look who’s here to greet us.’ He swivels me around by the waist so I can see her standing in the lobby.

  ‘I was wondering about that before. I meant to ask what you’re going to do.’

  Jas goes to pick up our bags from the footpath, but I stop him.

  ‘Wait a second.’

  ‘I don’t know. Nothing, I guess. Don’t care.’

  ‘You do so care. Just don’t…be too hard on her. She was excited, you know? I doubt she had any idea what would actually happen.’

  ‘Yeah, I know.’ He exhales.

  However, when we get inside Sharon’s nowhere to be seen. Shane is, though, running around trying to get the Beer-drinking Society organised. When we spot him, we go over.

  ‘If it isn’t you two, eh? I was wondering where you’d vanished to. Great exit, by the way.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Jas says.

  ‘Bodyguards were a nice touch. Let the cat out of the bag a bit, but.’

  ‘One of the last times. Had to make it good.’

  I smile. ‘I guess we’d better go pack.’

  Shane checks his watch. ‘Leaving in fifteen minutes and counting.’

  Hearing this, I do a runner for the lift. ‘Come on.’ I beckon Jas. ‘I need to get changed as well as pack.’

  Ten minutes later I’m packed, and am pulling on my jacket over a fresh set of clothes. ‘You’d better hurry.’ I look up from my jacket’s zipper to see Jas hasn’t packed anything at all but has spent most of his time in the room texting.

  ‘I’m staying here tonight. Thought I may as well, rather than move somewhere else.’

  I stop in my tracks. ‘But is it safe?’

  ‘Don’t really think it’s necessary, but Michael’s coming.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Charlie…’ Jas comes over.

  I struggle, still trying to do myself up. ‘Here.’ He reaches out to help me.

  ‘It’s OK, I’ve got it.’ I give it one final tug.

  ‘Great.’

  I look around the room. Anywhere but at Jas, really. ‘Well, that’s it, then. I’d better go. Are you coming down?’

  ‘Course.’ He goes over and opens the door so I can wheel my suitcase out. ‘Want me to take it?’

  I shake my head. ‘It’s OK.’ Down the end of the hall, the lift doors are just opening. I make a run for it again. ‘Quick!’

  We both race down and cram into the already full lift. There’s silence as it descends the two floors to the lobby.

  In the lobby itself, all of the bags piled everywhere only a few minutes ago are gone. Only a few people are left standing around now, and I realise the others must all be on the bus. Everything’s still moving in double-quick time, and I feel as if my life’s an hourglass, with about five grains of sand left before my time runs out. I make my way over to Shane, who’s standing with his back to us, talking to someone.

  ‘I’m ready,’ I say, and he turns.

  He’s been talking to Sharon.

  ‘Fantastic,’ he says, taking my bag. ‘This is the last one.’ He heads out to the bus with it.

  Which leaves Jas and I with Sharon.

  The three of us stare at each other silently. Finally, Sharon speaks up. ‘I’m, um, sorry…about yesterday. I didn’t know it would be like that.’

  ‘What did you think it would be like?’ Jas asks, sounding more than slightly pissed off. I nudge him on the arm.

  Sharon shakes her head. ‘I don’t know. I thought maybe a paper would come and take a photo of the two of us or something. I didn’t think…’ She looks miserable. As if she really is sorry.

  There’s a pause before Jas speaks again. ‘Look. Don’t worry about it. Not your fault.’

  But Sharon just hunches over even further. ‘So, are you guys, like, breaking up?’

  ‘I’d, er, say so—yeah.’

  ‘Can you sign something for me, then?’ she says, and rummages around in her bag for a bit, eventually finding what she’s looking for—a Spawn CD.

  ‘Sure.’ Jas takes the CD from her, as well as the pen she’s offering. He wiggles the cover out, signs it, and hands everything back to her.

  ‘Jas Ash?’ she says. ‘Shouldn’t Zamiel sign it?’

  ‘There’s no more Zamiel,’ he says, and Sharon’s expression becomes almost distraught. ‘Look,’ he adds quickly, seeing this, ‘why don’t you give me your name and address? I’ll send you something when it’s all over. One of his jackets or something.’

  ‘Really? That would be great!’ Sharon seems far more animated after hearing this. She writes down her name and address on a piece of paper for Jas and gives it to him. ‘Thanks, um, Jas.’

  Jas gives me a sideways wink. ‘I’d send you a pair of his leather pants, but they’re spoken for.’

  I roll my eyes. Oh, great. Tell the whole world, why don’t you?

  ‘Hey, hadn’t you guys better get on the bus?’ Jas glances outside as we hear the motor start up.

  Sharon starts off, but then turns back for a second. ‘Aren’t you coming?’

  Jas shakes his head. ‘Got to go to New York.’

  She makes a face. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘It’s OK. Go on—go. I’ll send you something.’

  ‘Thanks.’ She waves and heads outside. Jas and I follow slowly.

  ‘That was nice. Offering her the jacket,’ I say.

  ‘She looked like her bloody budgie had died.’

  ‘I told you she didn’t mean it to happen. She was probably just as freaked out by the whole thing as I was.’

  ‘I know.’ Jas nods. We make our way to the side of the bus and stop on the footpath, opposite the bus steps.

  ‘So…’ I say.

  ‘So…’ Jas repeats. ‘You’ve got all my numbers? I’ll call you. Every day. And you know you can call me any time, yeah?’

  ‘OK.’

  ‘And we’ll meet in London. In less than a month. Promise.’

  Shane herds the last few stragglers onto the bus.

  ‘Ready, Miss Charlotte?’ Shane calls out, now he’s on the bus himself.

  I look up at him, then turn to Jas, and do what I have to do before my brain kicks in—I reach out, grab his jacket and pull him towards me…

  ‘I’m coming to New York.’

  ‘Come to New York.’

  We both laugh and take a moment or two to get ourselves together again. That is, before we go and do the speaking at the same time thing all over again…

  ‘I didn’t want to impose.’

  ‘Didn’t want to ask.’

  Jas grabs me then, and hugs me long and hard before he pulls back. ‘Let’s get your bag,’ he says.

  We call Shane back down off the bus and he obligingly fishes out my bag from the bus’s storage space. While he’s doing this Jas sneaks up and puts a large wad of money into his tip jar. He deserves it.

  ‘Thanks for everything, Shane,’ I say, giving him a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek after he puts my bag down on the footpath. ‘You’ve been great.’

  ‘Stellar,’ Jas adds, shaking his hand.

  ‘Least I could do,’ Shane says with a smile.

  ‘I hope the trip back’s OK,’ I tell him.

  He groans. ‘Me too. There’s one more after this, and that’s it.’

  Jas and I stare at him, unbelieving. ‘You’re coming back?’ I ask the question for both of us.

  ‘Two tours. Back to back. I’m sure you understand.’ He punches Jas on the arm and laughs before he heads back inside the bus. ‘You crazy kids have some fun for me. And don’t forget you have to name your firstborn after me now. It was the champagne that got you together in the end; I’m sure of it.’

  ‘What’s he talking about?’ Jas looks at me.

  ‘I’ll tell you later,’ I say, before turning my attention back to Shane. ‘We will have a good time—thanks. And good luck with uni,’ I call out. Shane sticks
his head out. Puts his finger to his lips. ‘Oops. Sorry.’

  He waves a hand and then grins evilly. ‘And we’re off—like a raped ape!’ he belts out, then sticks his head back inside the bus quick-smart.

  ‘That’s disgusting!’ I yell, pointing at him.

  There’s another grin from Shane. This time from inside the bus, where he’s safe.

  ‘That’s disgusting!’ I turn to Jas, still pointing at Shane.

  ‘Especially if you’re the ape,’ Jas says.

  We both watch as the bus pulls out and drives off down the street to the faint strains of ‘Aussie, Aussie, Aussie, oi, oi, oi!’, which makes us laugh.

  It’s a while before I look up at Jas. ‘So, what’re we going to do after New York?’

  He claps his hands together and grins. ‘How about Italy? Hear you have some business to attend to.’

  I size him up. ‘You’ll have to stay in hostels and stuff, though. No more Brown’s. I’m on a budget, remember?’

  ‘I remember.’

  ‘And no sneaking around paying for things.’

  ‘My line of credit will be seriously diminished after New York, don’t worry.’

  ‘And more talking. There has to be more talking.’

  ‘Yeah, definitely more talking. Between, er, other things, of course.’

  ‘Of course.’ I laugh.

  ‘Now. That bottle of champagne?’ Jas says. ‘The one I think might have been from Shane?’

  ‘Mmmm?’

  ‘It’s upstairs, isn’t it?’

  I nod.

  ‘It’s unopened, isn’t it?’

  I finally get where he’s going with this and grab his hand, dragging him back inside the hotel. ‘Not for long,’ I say, with a smile that almost cracks my face. ‘Not for long.’

  IT’S NOT YOU IT’S ME

  A Red Dress Ink novel

  ISBN: 978-1-4592-4868-7

  © 2004 by Allison Rushby.

  All rights reserved. The reproduction, transmission or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without written permission. For permission please contact Red Dress Ink, Editorial Office, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, incidents and places are the products of the author’s imagination, and are not to be construed as real. While the author was inspired in part by actual events, none of the characters in the book is based on an actual person. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental and unintentional.

  ® and TM are trademarks. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and/or other countries.

  www.RedDressInk.com