‘How does she always manage to get herself into this state?’ Sophie asks over her shoulder with a look of disdain.
‘I don’t know, you tell me. You’re the one that’s been with her all night, plus you’re not really one to talk.’
‘Can you move any quicker?’ she turns around with her hands on her hips, frowning at me.
I stop in my tracks with anger flaring in my eyes. ‘You’re not being serious? You do realize I’m carrying a full-size human on my back. Shall we see how quickly you can move?’
She ponders for a moment, ‘No, you’re ok.’
‘That’s what I thought.’ We carry on moving forward, and if it wasn’t annoying enough, most of the club’s occupants for the night have begun to notice the spectacle and are watching in amusement.
I don’t blame them. I would stare too if I saw three women like us in a club; one wearing pajamas, with a semi-comatose blonde on her back looking like something from The Walking Dead, whilst the other blonde to the side spins in circles, dancing like she’s high on fairy dust.
A snicker reaches my ears, and a pair of blue Converse move into my vision that’s, by necessity, focused on the floor. With them comes a deep, rough voice that causes an involuntary shiver to run down my spine.
‘Need a hand, lady Hulk?’
‘That’s potentially the worst pickup line I’ve heard,’ I snap in response. My temper rises but I put it down to being crippled with Zoe on my back and having my path to freedom interrupted by some wasted loser.
The owner of the Converse lets out a throaty chuckle, ‘That’s because I wasn’t coming on to you. You looked like you were struggling…’
‘Talk about stating the obvious. If all you’re going to do is contribute a running commentary on this already shitty situation, please feel free to get lost.’ The last part comes out as a growl. I don’t know who the guy is, as I haven’t seen his face, but there is something about his voice that’s bringing out the worst in me, and I can’t quite put my finger on why.
‘Jesus, somebody is grumpy this evening.’ This time his voice sounds more familiar. Please God, no. We’ve come to a standstill and I’m able to take the rest of him in. My eyes move up his body, following long, muscular legs that are covered with slim fitting black jeans.
I don’t get a chance to make it past his legs, because at that moment, Sophie spins too fast, crashing into me and Zoe with enough force to send us face planting into a sticky puddle of beer on the floor. Zoe rolls to the side groaning and then curling into a fetal position, settles back to sleep.
Lifting my face out of the puddle in a slight daze, I glance at her out of the corner of my eye. Has she actually just curled into a ball on the floor? Yes. Do I need to get myself some new friends? Definitely.
‘Jaaaaaaaaaaakey!’ Sophie screeches at the top of her lungs. When I register the name she just called out, it becomes clear my suspicions were correct why the Converse owner’s voice sounded so familiar. Groaning, I press my face back into the puddle of beer, wanting the ground to swallow me up. Why does it have to be him?
Not here, when I’m looking like this. It’s been six years since we last saw each other. So, why now, when I’m wearing pajamas in the middle of a club, sprawled across the floor, covered in beer, do I have to bump into him?
Eventually, I lift my head back out of the puddle, ready to face my utter humiliation. Looking up, I take in the rest of the guy towering above me. All six foot, muscular, heavily tattooed inch of him. He holds out a strong arm, covered in a tattoo sleeve that looks like a sheet of music, encouraging me to take his hand, and I swear my heart almost stops at the thought of having to touch him again. I need to get a grip.
Shaking my head, stubbornly I refuse his help, and look back down at the ground feeling flushed with embarrassment. I jump up quickly and find myself looking straight at his tanned face, which holds a friendly expression. But then I meet those eyes. Those deep brown, soul consuming eyes that are looking down at me just like they used to. I’m positively screwed.
‘Jake….’
The motion of the fall unsettles Zoe, bringing her round from her semi drunken coma and she somehow manages to get to her feet while I’m preoccupied.
It’s at that point, the exact moment when for the first time in six years, I lay eyes on the guy who broke my heart, that Zoe hurls the content of her stomach all over my back.
Fuck. My. Life.
Two
Seriously, what the actual, fuck? This night is beginning to feel like I’m stuck in a living, breathing nightmare. My arms hang loosely at my sides, as vomit drips from what feels like every part of my body (really, it’s only the back of my pajama top, but still…) I can feel tears burning my eyes in exasperation at the whole situation. They could also be from the rancid stench of vomit that keeps hitting my nose. I’m not sure which is worse.
My stomach begins to turn, and I’m at serious risk of sympathy vomiting. If we don’t get out of the club fast this has the potential to turn into a massive vom fest, and I promised Han that wouldn’t happen.
Sophie has other ideas as she folds in half, creased with laughter whilst squeezing her legs together. The moment is causing her some major problems, as she tries not to pee her pants. That would be all we need to add to this shit show.
Standing for a couple of moments with my eyes squeezed tightly shut, I pray that when I open them again Jake won’t be there, that this will all just be the horrible nightmare it feels like it is. But that would be cliché and far too lucky.
‘Abby… How are you?’ His question comes plain as day and oblivious to the ridiculous scenario I’m currently stuck in. After six years of no contact, he’s acting like it’s completely normal that we’re here, stood together. His question gives me chance to quickly take in his full appearance. He looks older, manlier, more handsome than ever, with muscles that definitely didn’t exist the last time we saw each other. A tattoo of fire covers his other arm and I briefly wonder what they mean, and if he has more in unseen places.
It’s infuriating how cool and complacent he’s being, when I feel anything but. I’m pissed at the whole night. No, I’m beyond pissed. A better description would be that I’m livid, and out of nowhere, I begin to hyperventilate. Teetering on the edge of either sobbing or going Carrie on every person standing in proximity, I need to get a grip and get us out of the club, fast.
While I’m having my internal breakdown, Sophie returns to dancing and using some guys as her props; I’m assuming they’re Jake’s friends who have congregated around the spectacle. When she begins singing at the top of her voice, it tips me over the edge, and I lose my shit.
‘Sophie. Will you stop spinning in fucking circles before I spin you into the ground? For once in your life be helpful and get us out of here.’ I cringe at the screeching sound coming from my mouth, and embarrassment pulses through my veins. On the plus side, things couldn’t get much worse.
Instead of helping, she collapses into the arms of a bemused looking guy, who, taken by surprise, loses his balance and they almost become the second pair to tumble into the puddle of beer on the floor. Luckily, he reacts quickly, finding his footing and somehow managing to keep them both upright.
‘Before anyone else ends up on the floor, can we please stop her from moving, and get the hell out of here?’ The guy she collapsed into, looks at me with sympathy, shrugs and says, ‘Don’t worry we’ll get her outside in one piece. See you in a few, Jake?’
Jake breaks his gaze from me, turning to his friend and replies, ‘Yeah, man, I’ll help with Zoe. Watch her though, she’s a loose cannon.’ His friends leave with Sophie, and he turns his attention back to me. ‘Abby, will you please let me help?’ From his body language I can tell he’s being sincere, and his expression is friendly and patient. Though I know he’s finding the whole situation amusing, he’s hiding it well. Just like old times.
‘Do not think that if I accept your help it means you have suddenly become my
knight in shining armor. I’d accept anyone’s help right now, just to get us out of here. Unfortunately, it’s from you.’ My words are harsh, and I know they sting, as he winces, but quickly recovers. The friendliness from his expression disappears.
‘Fine, if it helps your ego, then I’m helping Zoe. Not you,’ he snaps, as he turns his back-scooping Zoe gently into his arms. I hate myself for watching his broad back, flexing, and straining under the material of his black shirt as he walks away, quickly towards the exit. I hate that the sight of him still makes my mouth water.
Every part of me screams not to follow, to stay away from him, but I need to make sure that Zoe and Sophie get home. Sighing, I follow them out of the club, receiving more funny looks than when I first came in, thanks to the stench of vomit accompanying me out. Even though New York summers are sweltering, it’s nothing compared to the sweaty heat of the club, and as I step outside, I feel like I can breathe properly in the ‘fresh air’.
‘I thought you said no vomit?’ I turn and find a stern looking Han, wrinkling his nose down at me.
‘Well maybe if you’d let me inside quicker, I might’ve been able to intercept earlier. Does it count that I was the buffer and the vomit actually went on me not the floor?’
He stands for a minute, contemplating, and then responds, ‘I may let you off. You sure there’s none on the floor?’
‘None on the floor. As you can clearly see, it’s all over me.’ I fold my arms, fed up of the whole night.
‘I guess you stayed true to your word, if I don’t have to clean any up, I’ll let you off.’
I roll my eyes, what a champion.
‘Merely returning the favor, Han. I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.’
‘And next time…’
‘Yeah?’ I’m intrigued by what else he could possibly have to say to me.
‘Try to wear some actual clothes, you’ll get in quicker.’ He winks, ending our communication and turning back to the line of people still waiting to get into the club.
Looking around for Jake, Sophie and Zoe, I find them and Jake’s friends, further up the block by my parents’ car. Taking a deep breath, I try to mentally prepare myself for another few minutes of being close to Jake again. It’s only a few minutes. I can do this and walk away in one piece.
A wave of nostalgia hits when I reach the group and look around, realizing that everyone apart from the guy Sophie collapsed into, is familiar. They’re the old gang from back in high school, and it’s understandable why they didn’t register earlier. Although the resemblance is there, most have changed their hair, they’re taller, fuller and working the grunge look. They no longer fit the preppy boy mold they tried to rebel against in high school.
‘Little Abby…’ a guy with dark blond hair, cut short at the sides and long on the top, styled away from his face steps forward. There are a couple of nose piercings that are new, but he has the same handsome face and friendly blue eyes.
‘Sammy.’ I smile warmly, barely containing my excitement at seeing him again, as I squeal throwing myself against his chest and finding myself engulfed by his strong arms. Besides Sophie and Zoe, he’s one of a few people I’ve missed since leaving home. ‘I didn’t recognize you all in there, thanks to being occupied with other things.’ I pull away and gesture down at my vomit covered pajamas, not that he’d need a reminder with the stench coming from me.
He laughs loudly, a laugh that fills the night around us, and his smile reaches his eyes causing them to crinkle at the corners. ‘Some things never change. Not to worry, you can get your fill of me now,’ He catches me off guard engulfing me in another friendly hug and it’s hard not to bask in his warmth and familiarity. It makes me feel protected from the pain of seeing Jake again and right now I don’t ever want to leave the comfort of his arms.
In less than ten minutes, this group of people I used to call my closest friends, are breaking through some of the walls I’ve put up over the years. I can already see my resolve beginning to crumble and I’ve not been home twenty-four hours.
A throat clears from behind us, and I turn to see Jake stood with his shoulders squared and arms folded across his chest, looking more than a little annoyed. ‘We haven’t got all night. What are you going to do with Zoe?’
Taken aback by how cold he’s being, even in front of the group, I retort, ‘Chill out. You offered to help, remember? If you didn’t want to, you shouldn’t have got involved.’
He snarls back, ‘I offered to help with Zoe, not stand around all night watching you and Sam grope each other.’ Our tempers are beginning to flare, and we’ve gone from zero to a hundred in less than a minute. That was always the case at the end of my time in Brooklyn. We couldn’t even be in the same room without WW3 starting.
‘Jealous I see,’ folding my arms defensively across my chest, I give him a once over, making no attempt to hide my irritation by his presence.
His face flushes with shock at my quick response, which isn’t surprising, considering in the past the old Abby would have been too shy and insecure to challenge him and pull him up for his immature and irrational remarks. But times have changed, and the old Abby grew up after she was kicked to the gutter. He’ll have to get used to the new snarky attitude and confidence. After all he’s the one who made me this way.
Never one to be a sucker, he soon recovers, replacing the shock with anger and frustration, ‘Hardly. Why would I be jealous, Abby? I was the one that ended things, don’t you remember?’
This time it’s my turn to be shocked. Shocked at how easily he’s bringing up our past, such a sensitive subject, with little respect for my feelings. It feels like I’ve been punched in the gut, but I refuse to let him see how his words affect me after all this time. Instead I opt to give as good as I get. ‘How could I forget? You’re clearly still a douchebag.’
His face shows no emotion, but his eyes bore into mine, and then he smirks, ‘You’ve got feisty as you’ve got older.’ He lets out a deep breath, which warms my cheek and I can feel my whole body beginning to tingle, and my stomach flutter. When did we end up standing so close? How did I not notice myself gravitating towards him during our little sparring session?
Sam steps forward, recognizing that I’m in over my head. ‘Seriously, guys, you weren’t even like this when you split up. Can we at least try and get along for a few minutes? You haven’t seen each other in six years.’
‘Well that would be because Jake is too much of a pussy when it comes to handling things like an adult, isn’t that right, Jake?’ His eyes flash with anger again, making it clear I’m rubbing him up the wrong way, as he is with me.
Sam continues his intervention, more forcefully this time. ‘That’s enough, Abby. This isn’t the time or the place to start rehashing things. It’s not gonna be long until Zoe starts barfing again. Do you really want it to be all over your parents’ car?’
Despite every part of me itching to carry on fighting with Jake, I know Sam’s right. It’s reinforced by Sophie swaying from side to side, muttering ‘aaabbbuuu buuu buuu, I’m so tired and booooored. Can we please go home now?’
Resigned, I back away from my face off with Jake, ‘I guess that’s my cue to go. It’s been emotional as always.’
The guys help to get Zoe in the car, and in the process, Sam saves my cell number to his, demanding we make up for lost time. I laugh, agreeing to see him soon. As I step back, Jake shuts the front passenger door, turns and crashes straight into me.
‘Sorry I didn’t realize you were there,’ he apologizes, awkwardly.
‘It’s fine, I should have said I was there.’ I look up and everything feels like it stops. His stare holds an intensity that takes my breath away, but as with most of Jake’s emotions, it vanishes as quickly as it appears, leaving me questioning whether I was imagining it.
‘You look good, Abby. Drive safe.’ With that he walks down the sidewalk, back to the club. I wait a moment, hoping he will look back over his shoulder. An
y sign he was as affected by the moment as much as I was. Instead he walks into the club without glancing back, proving he couldn’t care less about seeing me again. If only I felt the same.
Three
It takes a while to decide what’s best to do with the girls. In the end I opt for taking them back to my parents, rather than trying to navigate each of them into their own home at this time of night.
The drive goes by quickly, as the roads aren’t as hectic as they are in the day. Rolling down the windows, in an attempt to get rid of the awful smell coming from the three of us, I appreciate the feeling of the warm summer air blowing through my hair and across my skin.
There’s a buzz about, as the smells of restaurants and late-night take-out’s fill the car. Laughter and music fill the night as people bustle about on the sidewalks, creating an atmosphere that can only be described as New, Frickin, York. God, I love it. I love Brooklyn and feelings of doubt already begin to creep in, as I wonder why I ever left.
I mull over the events of the night. Sophie and Zoe have always spent their time getting wasted and into trouble, and it’s always been my job to make sure they’re ok. My role hasn’t changed regardless of where we’ve been. Whenever they’ve met with me at a new location for shoots, I’ve still had to step in and be their second mom.
I guess I wouldn’t have it any other way, otherwise I would have put my foot down years ago. Despite their poor tolerance for alcohol and low inhibitions, they’re my best friends and have been since we were in diapers. We live our lives differently. Zoe claims to be an ‘influencer’ spending her time trialing new bars and restaurants, calling it work. Sophie refers to herself as the eternal student, each year changing her college major, stating that this time it’s ‘the one’. Luckily, they come from wealthy families that help fund their anti-work attitudes.
Our parents worked together in the music and journalism industries. Although New York is a big and busy place, when you work in certain industries the social circles are small and their paths crossed so often it was inevitable, they were going to become friends.
Always You Page 2