Always You

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Always You Page 7

by Lizzie Morton


  With perfect timing the band wrap up for a quick break, as my cell continues buzzing in my hand. It provides the perfect excuse to put some distance between myself and Jake. A small part of me wonders if that’s what I really want, but I quieten the voice, reminding myself that Michael is safe, secure, and with him there’s no risk. He won’t leave me like Jake did, because he loves me too much.

  My voice is far too loud and over the top as I answer the call, ‘Hey, baby, I miss you.’

  The pet name grabs Zoe’s attention and she makes a vom motion at me. When her eyes settle on Jake, at first, she looks surprised, then rolls her eyes when it dawns why I’ve been over the top, using pet names which I hate.

  ‘I can’t hear you well. Are you ok? Where are you?’ Michael’s voice draws my attention back to my cell.

  ‘Sorry I’m at a gig. It was a last-minute thing. I should have told you, so you didn’t bother calling.’

  ‘I’m jealous. I wish I were there with you.’

  The crowd settles into the break time buzz and the noise amplifies. Plugging a finger into my other ear, I try to block out some of the noise, so I can hear what he’s saying, but it’s no good. ‘Hang on a second. I can’t hear you, let me move somewhere quieter.’ I mouth to Sophie that I’ll be back soon, then move away from the group to a quieter area, without so much as a backward glance at Jake. ‘Better?’ I ask, stepping outside the front of the bar.

  ‘Yeah, I can hear you now.’

  ‘Look, I’ve been wanting to say… I’m sorry for this week. You know, for not being in contact much.’ It takes a lot for me to own up to my mistakes and it feels out of character.

  ‘I know you’re busy. I’m just counting down the days till I can see you again. This summer already feels like it’s been too long.’

  I surprise us both with the words that come out next, ‘I know. I miss you.’

  ‘You do?’

  ‘Yeah, I guess I do. Is that so hard to believe?’ Really, it shouldn’t be hard to believe and that’s what’s sad about the point to which mine and Michael’s relationship has gotten. Right now, truthfully, I do miss him and the simplicity of the life I had back in Florida. A life without Jake.

  ‘It’s not like you to say things like that.’ Michael replies. It’s evident in his voice he’s skeptical at what I’m saying.

  ‘I may have had a couple of drinks,’ Rather than being concerned my boyfriend of four years is shocked I’m being openly affectionate, I chuckle instead, hoping he sees the funny side.

  ‘That explains it. Anyway, don’t apologize. We both knew the distance would be hard, but we’ll get through it. Right?’

  ‘Of course.’ I’m going to hell for the lies I’m telling.

  ‘In that case, go enjoy your night and we’ll speak soon.’

  ‘Ok. Speak to you later.’

  As I hang up, a weight I didn’t know was there, lifts from my shoulders. Although I have reservations with our relationship, Michael and I have still been together for four years, and I hate there being any animosity between us. Speaking to him has made things feel better.

  The band has started the second part of their set by the time I make my way back over to the group. It’s clear they didn’t miss me. They’re enjoying the music, drinks in hands. Sophie hands one over, but as I glance around, I realize something has changed, ‘What happened to Jake?’

  ‘He took off. Had to get to something apparently, but he seemed pissed. You two didn’t have another altercation, did you?’ She asks.

  ‘Not that I’m aware of.’ There’s a niggle in my chest, the feeling of guilt. Maybe he overheard some of my conversation with Michael as he was leaving. But why would he be bothered?

  I refuse to worry over yet another thing which is out of my control, I opt for the ‘fuck it’ attitude, and knock back my drink, ignoring my reservations about how I’ll feel tomorrow.

  Ten

  A high-pitched screeching noise jars me awake.

  ‘What the fuck?’ I vaguely remember Zoe messing with my cellphone last night, with a mischievous look on her face.

  Groaning, I fumble about trying to find the offending object. Eventually, when I do, I spend another minute trying to silence it. Damn the effects of alcohol, I’m a mess.

  The dull ache in my head intensifies, all thanks to the strong drinks Sam was plying me with all night. It seemed a good idea at the time, but now I hate myself for losing control. I decide that Sam must share the blame for my hangover, and I intend to make him suffer later when he’s covering at the bar alongside me. He’ll have to carry my sorry ass through a busy Saturday shift. Lucky him.

  Looking at the time, I curse Zoe even more. It’s only 7.30am and my shift isn’t until later in the afternoon, but there’s no chance of getting back to sleep. Instead of wasting away the morning feeling sorry for myself, I drag myself out of bed and do something I haven’t had chance to since getting back to Brooklyn.

  Run.

  Once I’ve thrown on my gear, I head out quietly, not wanting to wake up my parents on their day off. Even though it’s early, the heat is already rising, but manageable enough for a steady pace. I slip in my headphones and begin pounding the sidewalks in the early morning sun. Taking my favorite route from when I was younger, I make my way to Brooklyn promenade, enjoying the views across the Hudson, to Manhattan.

  When I return home over an hour later, I’m grinning, relishing the burn in my lungs and the ache in my muscles; it’s a feeling I’ve missed, along with the rush of endorphins. It feels like the run has done a good job in clearing the worst of my hangover, so maybe today won’t be too bad after all. The positive vibes are out in full force, and as I step through the front door, the smell of fresh pancakes hits my nose, making my stomach growl.

  I find my Mom at the kitchen stove, still in her pajamas and the same apron she’s worn since I was a kid.

  ‘Morning, honey. Good run?’ Even though she looks happy to see me, it doesn’t stop her raising her eyebrows and wrinkling her nose at the sweat literally dripping off me onto the floor.

  ‘Yeah. Sorry for making a mess,’ I reply, looking at the puddle I’m beginning to create on the kitchen floor.

  ‘Nothing that can’t be cleaned. Pancakes?’

  ‘Do I need to answer that?’ My stomach reinforces my answer by growling loudly.

  ‘So, you had fun last night? I didn’t hear you get in.’

  ‘It’s been a long time since I’ve let my hair down like that; too long.’

  ‘It’s good to have fun, Abby. You used to be carefree, maybe not as much as Sophie and Zoe, but still. You work too hard now and you’ll run yourself into the ground if you’re not careful.’

  ‘I know, Mom, I’ve just been focused that’s all. I promised the girls last night that I would let my hair down more often.’

  ‘Good. Did you see Jake?’ Straight to the point. Why am I surprised that she asks about him?

  ‘Blunt much, Mom?’

  ‘Well?’ She refuses to back down.

  ‘I did, only briefly and it was fine.’

  The doubtful look she throws at me, makes it evident she can read from my face I’m lying. Still I choose to omit the details of the moment Jake and I had. I’m not even sure it could be classed as a moment. With a clear head, it feels like I could have been imagining it.

  ‘Your Dad told you they’re working together?’

  ‘Yes. It’s not a problem. They’re in the same industry so I guess it’s inevitable. Plus, Jake and I can’t avoid each other forever.’ I’m fully aware of the irony of what I’m saying. All I’ve done so far is try and convince myself and others that we won’t see each other, that things will be fine. Yet here I am saying the opposite.

  ‘Ok, I just wanted to check you’re ok with all this.’

  ‘Honestly, Mom, everything is all good. I’ve already told Dad this.’

  Mom dishes up breakfast and I tuck in quietly. Between us we have a silent agreement that the subject of
Jake is closed. Sitting in an amicable silence whilst eating, I eventually groan, rubbing my stomach in appreciation when I feel like I can’t eat any more. ‘Seriously, Mom that was so good.’ Of all the things I’ve missed over the years, I’ve missed mom’s cooking the most.

  She smiles knowingly, then asks, ‘What are your plans for the rest of the day?’

  ‘It’s still early, so I think I’ll get cleaned up and take my camera for a shoot around on my way to the bar. I’ve got a double shift this afternoon.’

  ‘Sounds great. Well, I’ll leave you to it.’

  ‘Thanks for breakfast.’ Leaning down, I place a kiss on her head like I have done since I was a kid, then clear the table before heading upstairs to shower and change.

  Heading out with my camera later, I wind up walking the distance from home to the bar, even though it’s a trek. I need time to clear my head, so I take my time capturing everything that catches my eye. It’s what makes me happy and it feels good to be photographing for fun rather than work. It reminds me that I do what I do because I love it. It’s a good distraction, but still not enough. In the fleeting moments where I’m not focused on keeping myself present, my mind constantly wanders back to Jake.

  ***

  6 years earlier

  I look at Jake uncertainly and whisper ‘I guess I’ll see you later?’ We’ve spent an amazing and rare afternoon alone together without the rest of the group. We’ve hung out in different places, laughed, talked and enjoyed being together. It’s been perfect and I keep pinching myself, trying to remember that this is really happening to me, and I get him all to myself.

  ‘You sure you don’t want to come back to mine for a while? We could just watch a movie or something…’ he scuffs his feet against the sidewalk, looking down. His tone is uncertain, which is unusual for Jake as usually he’s full of confidence. But I get to see a different, more vulnerable side to him. When he glances up, he has a hopeful look on his face, and it breaks my heart a little that I’m going to take away the happy expression that’s been on his face all day.

  ‘I’m sorry, you know I can’t. Dad will literally kill me. He’s already unhappy with this.’ It’s the truth. My parents have always been cool with me hanging around with a mixed group, but they’ve caught wind that Jake and I have been spending more time alone, and Dad has pulled the reins in tight; he’s not ready to let go of his baby yet.

  Rubbing a hand over his face in frustration, he lets out a small sigh. ‘I know, sorry. I shouldn’t have asked again.’ He seems resigned but continues, ‘It’s just today’s been good, really good. I’m not ready for it to end yet.’

  Catching my eye, he wills me to change my mind. His gaze intensifies, as it moves down towards my lips, like he wants to move in and do more than just talk. I swallow nervously. It’s all I can do. The truth is I’ve never been kissed, and the thought that Jake might want to, fills me with dread, because I don’t have a clue what to do.

  ‘I like that we talk in person now,’ he smiles. Reaching over he tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear and his touch sends a shiver down my spine. I know he’s being playful, referring to the times when we only ever used to talk on the phone or online, because I was too terrified to talk to him in person. It’s taken a long time for us to get to this point, and I’m surprised he didn’t give up and walk away. Maybe I’m reading too much into the whole thing and all he wants is to be friends. But when he looks at me like he’s doing now, my heart feels like it’s about to leap out of my chest. I’ve never felt like this before. Ever.

  The intensity is getting too much. As he refuses to look away, I tilt my head forward, looking down towards the ground to break the moment.

  ‘Well it just took me some time to work up the courage,’ I say finally, and a little defensively. ‘I’m not used to all this attention.’

  Clearing his throat, he steps forward eliminating all the space between us. Grasping my chin gently, he encourages me to raise my face and look him in the eyes. ‘Well get used to it, cause I’m not going anywhere.’ With a tenderness that makes my heart pound he continues, ‘Please don’t hide from me, Abby. You don’t need to.’

  Instead of kissing me, he pulls me in for a hug. My limbs are everywhere as I’m not used to the physical contact and he’s caught me off guard. He merely chuckles seeming nervous and unsure himself. Finally, he manages to engulf me in his arms, with his larger frame covering mine. I can’t get enough of the moment. As the nerves seep away and my heartrate slows, I begin to enjoy every second. I don’t ever want to let go. My eyes begin burning slightly, as I’m completely overwhelmed with how I’m feeling. I tuck my face further into his chest, breathing in his scent, trying to commit it to memory in case this is the only time I’ll ever get to be this close.

  He responds to my eagerness by leaning his head down and nuzzling my neck, then gently trailing the tip of his nose up to my ear. His warm breaths come out quickly, and my whole body erupts in goosebumps as I begin to lose the feeling in my legs. Just when I think I’m about to collapse in the middle of the sidewalk from sensation overload, he drags me out of my bliss-induced haze, murmuring into my ear, ‘Next time, I want you and me alone. I want you all to myself with no audience.’ The last bit is followed by his signature chuckle, as he pulls away and begins walking backwards. ‘See you later, pretty girl.’

  I stand gawping, in shock at the sudden loss of contact. All the blood rushes to my cheeks and Jake laughs again, knowing the effect he has on me. He offers a small wave then turns and walks away. As I watch his retreating form, I notice an old couple sat on a bench near to where Jake and I have been standing, with bemused expressions on their faces, and I realize they are the audience Jake was referring to.

  It snaps me out of my daze, and I glance at my cell realizing the time. It quickly dawns on me that I don’t have much time to get back before Dad will go crazy. As the subway sways steadily, I think back to what Jake said. He wants to be alone, with me. Am I ready for that? Am I ready to take things further, from small touches to something more? I don’t know. I’ve never even kissed anyone, but I know Jake would never pressure me to do anything I wasn’t ready for.

  I might not be certain how far I’m willing to take things yet, but there is one thing I am certain of. If there is anyone that I want all my firsts to be with, it’s Jake.

  Eleven

  Even though I agreed I would hold back a bit on the work front, I can’t turn away the money I’m being offered, so my work life feels busier than ever over the next week. Luckily, Sophie and Zoe understand when I explain that things will quieten off soon. I neglect to mention that dad’s been dropping hints about a big project working with his company that will take up a huge chunk of my time. That can wait.

  Two weeks home and I’ve managed to grab a Sunday night off which I’m using as an opportunity to spend time with the girls on their own, making up for my absence. We can talk freely without fear of the guys listening in, especially when we’re talking about more serious subjects.

  ‘Are you going to come for a wax with us?’ asks Zoe from across the booth.

  ‘No.’ We’ve been having the same conversation for the past few minutes.

  ‘Oh, come on. We’ve seen your vagina so many times, Abby, it’s nothing new.’ She rolls her eyes.

  ‘I’m fully aware of that. I just don’t want it doing.’ Folding my arms across my chest in defiance, I can feel myself literally squeezing my thighs together at the thought of the pain in that area. No thank you.

  Sophie snorts into her drink, and I’m fully aware that some of the other diners are listening in to our conversation, as Zoe isn’t exactly being quiet. ‘But, babe, I mean what do you do with it?’

  ‘What do you mean, what do I do with it?!’ I hiss back, feeling flustered and wishing she would leave the conversation alone. I suggested a smaller, more intimate Italian, close to where we all live in an attempt to try and keep the night low key and keep the girls under control and away fr
om the main bar scene. I should have known better than to try and contain the beasts. All I’ve done is move the humiliation to a smaller environment, where everyone can hear clearly the details of some of the awful conversations that I am regularly subjected to.

  ‘Isn’t it like fluffy and out of control if you don’t wax?’ Zoe continues.

  ‘It’s not the fucking dark ages, Zo, there are other options to maintain that area besides waxing.’ In response to my cussing, an old lady throws us a seriously dirty look, and it’s then that I give up all hope of a civilized evening. ‘Fuck it, this isn’t working. Let’s go next door to the cocktail bar. At least there I don’t have to worry about small children hearing the ridiculous shit you’re both coming out with.’

  We quickly make our way to the hostess at the front of the restaurant, giving her enough cash to cover our meal even though we haven’t even eaten yet, and then exit swiftly. Behind me I can hear Zoe grumbling to herself, ‘Why is she always so grumpy? Is it permanently shark week or something?’

  Sophie merely responds by chanting, ‘Cocktails!’ over and over as she follows me into the bar.

  I begin to relax when we eventually get settled with a selection of cocktails that are almost as big as me, and an even bigger selection of shots. The music is loud enough that people can’t hear what we’re saying which is a blessing as the girls have no filter.

  Raising a shot glass in the air, Sophie encourages Zoe and I to do the same, ‘To girls’ night.’ We clink our shots together, and then knock them back in one go. As the putrid liquid makes its way down our throats, Sophie and I begin choking.

 

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