Izzy Moffit's Road to Wonderland (Road to Wonderland Series Book 1)

by James, Victoria L.

  “You do still see Paris, right?” he questions, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly as he studies the shock on my face.

  I contemplate lying, but what use will that be to anyone. He’s seen her with guy… a boyfriend? He knows way more about her than I do right now. Removing myself from his company or avoiding the truth of the matter with a lie won’t help me sleep when my head falls against the pillow tonight.

  “We haven’t spoken for over two years,” I eventually whisper.

  “What?” he breathes out so quietly it barely qualifies as a sound.

  “She wanted a new life.”

  “Away from you…” He scowls harder. “Why would anyone want that?”

  A sarcastic huff escapes me as I stare back into his eyes. Is he for real? The guy who used me as a pity fuck for all those months now wants to stand before me and pretend that I would be a worthy part to play in anyone’s life. Right. Beautiful. Brilliant. Smiling disingenuously at him, I force out the next sentence and try to hold back as much snark as I can. “I can’t answer that for you, Matt. You’d have to ask the people that have walked away from me.”

  He lifts his chin and moves his mouth to speak before eventually deciding that he’s probably best keeping his thoughts to himself.

  Taking a slow, heavy breath inwards, I look straight ahead again and make the decision that eye contact is probably best avoided for both of us. “When did you see her?” I question quietly.

  “I can’t remember exactly, a few months ago, maybe. She looked different.”

  “Different, how?”

  “Thinner and a hell of a lot scruffier, not like she used to at school and definitely not the Paris I remembered. I figured she was going through her grunge stage or something.”

  Thinner. The old me has already started screaming again from that one word alone, but the new me is trying to calm her down. Thinner isn’t always a bad thing, right? Thinner doesn’t have to mean ill or in trouble. It could just mean… Fuck. What? What could it mean? Nothing except exactly what it probably does.

  She’s not looking after herself properly.

  “Did... did she look… happy?” I dare myself to ask, briefly closing my eyes to prepare my heart for whatever answer he is about to give me. A yes will hurt no matter how relieved I am, because it means she doesn’t need me or miss me the way I do her. A yes will mean that her life is exactly how she wants it and I am nothing but a distant memory, one that is connected to her old life and one she would rather forget. A no, however, will not just hurt; it will tear my soul in two. For her to have left her old life alone and walked away to be happy is one thing, but for her to throw all that away and waltz into a path filled with nothing but misery and pain would be a bigger tragedy than I could ever begin to imagine.

  It feels like a lifetime before he answers, like someone has pressed pause on the whole atmosphere around me and time is completely suspended.

  “Yes.” He nods slowly as he runs his fingers through one side of his hair and lifts his chin to look up at my face. “She looked really happy. She was with a guy who I assumed to be her boyfriend. It could have been anybody, I suppose, but she was clearly in love with him.”

  “How could you know that?” My brows crease together even further as the conflict of emotions rage through my body. Relief is mingled with despair, while happiness is mixed with a feeling of jealousy I’m too ashamed to even acknowledge.

  Matt takes a step closer to me before resting a hand on my shoulder and breathing against my ear. “Because she looked at him like she couldn’t live without him.”

  If I didn’t know any better, I would be convinced that someone just punched me in the stomach and that was the reason all the air had been knocked out of my body. She looked at him like she couldn’t live without him, yet she could live without me. I should feel nothing but happiness for my best friend, but the only emotions I feel are the ones that should never be admitted out loud.

  Dropping my chin to my chest, I swallow down the feelings of sadness that have washed over me and sigh, huffing out a humourless laugh and shaking my head slowly. “Then I guess she found what she was looking for. I guess you all did.”

  An awkward silence lingers before he speaks. “She may have, but I never did.”

  Despite wanting to avoid looking directly into his dreamy stare, my head snaps up automatically to silently question him. “What does that mean?”

  “What do you think it means?”

  “I have no clue,” I answer, aware that I must look as lost as I feel.

  Matt shrugs one shoulder before he spins me around to face him then drops his hands into the depths of his trouser pockets. “It just means I’m still looking for that with someone. It must be nice.”

  “What? Wait. You have Katy.”

  His face scrunches up in a mixture of confusion and surprise as he laughs sarcastically. “No, I don’t. I haven’t had Katy for the last four years. We split up after our first year at university.”

  “Your first year?” I mouth slowly.

  “She had a thing with a married guy off campus. I found out and threw in the towel. It wasn’t meant to be. She was only ever with me to please her parents anyway.”

  My mind is reeling with so much new information in such a short space of time, I feel like the ground beneath me is spinning. Maybe it is. I don’t have a clue about anything anymore. Nothing makes sense. I couldn’t tell you if black is really white or whether elephants are actually pink. All I know is this: If Matt and Katy split up in their first year of university, then everything Katy Palmer told me that night in the club was nothing but a big, fat fucking lie.

  Reaching out to grab the tops of his arms, I try to force myself to focus and not sound as desperate as I feel. “Matt, did you tell Katy about what happened between us when you broke up?”

  “You’re damn right I did.” His smile grows wider as soon as I mention the word us and I feel bad for not returning his enthusiasm, but all the memories of him and I together have been tainted ever since I thought he used me. I’m not sure whether they will ever be recovered and restored as what they once were to me.

  “What exactly did you say?”

  “I told her everything,” he says through a smirk. “How we used to sneak around behind her back, how, if I was honest with myself, I’d never wanted her at all - not the way I wanted you.”

  I swallow down a tiny lump that suddenly lodges in my throat, trying desperately not to think of what could have been had different decisions been made. “Go on.”

  “There’s not much more to say.” He shrugs. “I was with her for everyone around me, not because I wanted to be. Katy was always so…”

  “Plastic,” I finished for him.

  “That works.” He laughs quietly.

  “Well that explains a few things,” I whisper, nodding slowly as my eyes roam back down to the floor and a small smile creeps on my face. “That explains a lot actually.”

  I sense his gaze upon me. It’s so intense it almost feels like an actual touch upon my face or a brush of his breath against my hair. The old memories of the time he and I spent together come flooding back into my mind all at once. The tree house, his bedroom, the first time we ever had sex. They’re all there. I’ve been blocking them out for such a long time because of what his ex-girlfriend made me believe, that seeing them again now is like seeing them for the first time. All of a sudden, I’m seventeen years old again and there’s a boy stood in front of me who is reminding me that not everything is how it seems. Sometimes, just on the odd occasion, we have to let go of all the negatives that cloud that one tiny positive that still lingers in our memories.

  “You okay?”

  Inhaling sharply, I lift my head to look back into his eyes with as much confidence as I can muster, which, surprisingly, doesn’t take all that much effort. For over two years, I’ve believed everything Matt and I went through together was nothing but a lie. To finally know that some of it, no matter how small of a
percentage, was actually real - that he felt some semblance of what I did about all those days we spent together - well, it heals me more in this one moment than I could ever truly explain.

  “Sometimes,” I start, “The things we don’t want to face somehow find their way back into our lives without us really having much choice.” My teeth sink in to my bottom lip before I slowly drag them back and offer him a bright, white smile. “Your ex-girlfriend saw me a couple of years ago and made me believe that everything we once shared together was an act - that you used me for nothing other than a quick fuck here and there and a real life mannequin to practice your arse thrusts on.”

  “What?” he whispers in disbelief. Matt’s eyes search mine for any hint of a lie before he slowly starts to shake his head. All I can do is press my finger to his lips and tilt my head, hoping he sees that there really isn’t anything he needs to say.

  “It’s okay. I’m used to it. I know now it was all a lie. I should have known then, I guess. More fool me, right? But I get it now. I think she came along to make me re-evaluate myself. Does that make sense? Just like I might actually believe we bumped into each other today so you could unknowingly answer a few previously unanswerable questions for me. See how that works out sometimes or do I sound crazy? I don't know. It's helping me, so I'm clinging onto it. Yet, the past is the past and I’d like it to stay there. You, Katy, everything about back home, all of it. I’m not the girl I used to be. Part of who I am now is thanks to the two of you.”

  “Don't group me with her. Please. I'm not that guy either.”

  “Because we're not seventeen anymore, so we need to let all that go, right? There’s only one person I need to know from those days, only one I want back in my life. I’m hoping one day she’ll return, but if she doesn't, there's not much I can do about it. No-one can compare to her because there's no-one else I trust with who I really am, flaws and all.”

  “Moffy, wait. Why don’t we have a coffee and catch up? It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other. Can’t we at least be friends?”

  The innocent, almost desperate look in his eyes makes me falter for just a second. While my life is a little on the lonely side these days, I feel like isolation is the only thing that’s going to really put me back together and make me become the person I really need to be.

  For now, my life is my own, and that’s exactly the way I want it to stay.

  Sighing softly, I lean forward and press a small kiss against his cheek before pulling away from him completely and turning my head to leave.

  “I’m sorry, Matt. I don’t have room in my life for friends or the past anymore. I'm happy as I am, for now. “

  Then I drop my chin to my chest, smile weakly to myself and leave.

  No regrets.

  Twenty-Two

  25th December, 2005

  Time seems to float by without me even realising that it’s passing. The autumn soon turns to winter and the one day of the year that I hate being alone on greets me without much fuss.

  Christmas.

  It’s always a simple affair for one. A throw in the microwave turkey dinner from Marks and Spencer’s, followed by at least half a bottle of Jack Daniels on ice. Even though I don’t particularly like the stuff, it serves its purpose. It makes me feel warm in a world that, by rights, should feel pretty fucking cold.

  I’ve spent the entire day at the desk that sits under my window, writing as much as I can while occasionally peering out to look down at the deathly silent streets of Manchester city centre. The whole place is deserted, with only the odd happy couple stumbling through town with presents held against their chests as they go to visit relatives in neighbouring buildings. I haven’t really made any friends since living here. As anyone would expect of me these days, I’ve kept myself to myself as much as possible. It seems that those who live here alongside me have a similar outlook on life. We live off the ground and up in the sky for a reason - to keep our distance from those who live in the real world below, while still feeling like we have some sense of adventure around us. It’s a way of living that provides a balance… or at least it did.

  As the hours turn into days and the days turn into weeks, I’ve found myself wanting and needing something more. My work is picking up slowly but surely. I’m being drip fed work here and there. My name is finally getting around in the local publication world as someone who is reliable and there at the drop of a hat. I’m working on more newspaper articles and magazine, fiction based, stories than I ever thought possible, which has inevitably led me to earning more money than I truly need.

  The economy is booming, as is the housing market. This little compact apartment that I bought less than two years ago has already nearly doubled in value, and I’m starting to believe I’m sat on a little gold mine. There’s a waiting list of people who would snap my hand off if I was to put this tiny, one-bedroomed home on the market and, while I’ve never been a major fan of change, there’s something in the back of my mind that’s telling me to just take a chance on moving up in the world and take that leap of faith.

  The sun has started to fade and the dusky sky is closing in on the city as I stare out of the window, lift my tumbler of whiskey to my mouth and take another slow, throat warming sip. The day is almost over and I’ve tried to forget about Paris and not think of what she is doing, but unavoidably, as the alcohol makes my blood thinner and my head thicker, I can’t stop my mind from wandering.

  Matt’s description of her has played on my thoughts ever since I walked away from him, but short of hiring a private detective to go and track her down and drag her home, I have no idea what the hell I should do. Without going over the morbid thoughts of her not wanting me in her life, I have to just accept her decision for what it is and hope that things will one day be resolved. Despite the worst days of missing her, I still feel that twinge in my heart - the one that tells me the connection is still there and allows me to live in hope that she still feels it, too.

  A sad smile creeps into one cheek as I think of all the Christmas days we spent together growing up. The Hemsworth’s home used to hold the biggest and brightest parties you could ever wish to see. Each room was decorated with class and style, yet somehow remained warm and inviting. I think a lot of that was to do with Dandy and Lily. She provided the taste and he provided the charm. To everyone around them, they were perfect.

  To me, they were so much more than that.

  Falling back into my chair, I roll the liquor around in my glass and look back into the small quiet of my tiny box room. My mind hums to life with possible images of the people I loved gathered in here on Christmas day, all cramped together and huddled in a corner, complaining that you couldn’t swing a cat around in this place without causing some injury. Before I know it, I’m lost in a daydream, and the people I feared I’d never see again somehow seem to be stood before me.

  “Lily, pass me the cranberry sauce,” Dandy says through a strained voice as he tries to lean over the small coffee table without knocking anything over. It’s packed to the edges with food - food I certainly didn’t cook, but which they all brought here for me when they turned up on my doorstep, uninvited, but definitely welcome.

  “Dad, this is ridiculous. Can’t we just bloody eat on our knees?” Paris moans from beside him. Her shoulders are hunched tight together as her father leans farther and passes in front of her scrunched up face.

  “You want us to eat off our knees on Christmas day? What kind of peasant beings are we?” Dandy laughs before claiming the sauce from his wife, blowing her a kiss and falling back to rest his bum on his heels.

  “Umm, I think peasants eat off the floor, Dad. That’s exactly what we’re doing now.”

  “Guys, I’m so sorry! I had no idea you were going to visit today, otherwise I’d have bought a new table or something,” I groan from the small breakfast bar that sits behind the sofa and is currently covered in bottle upon bottle of alcohol. “I had no idea you would turn up in my life again.”

>   “Mav, you’re such a tit sometimes.” Paris snorts. “I’m ignoring that last statement completely.”

  “As am I. And also, where would that table live, Izzy?” Dandy smirks, peeking up at me from his kneeling position on the floor with that fatherly look of his. “There’s no room in here to do a quick Cha-Cha-Cha, never mind throw a dinner party.” He picks up a small spoon, pointing it at me before dropping his voice into that tone of his that always lets me know he’s about to give a lecture, but he doesn’t want to sound like a know it all either. “When I gave you that money to invest, I didn’t expect you to buy the first thing you saw. Yes, a city centre location is always a wise move. These babies are never going to go out of style with all the business types around here. In terms of profitability, you’re onto a winner.”

  “I sense a but, Iz,” Lily shouts over her shoulder at me, tilting her face to the side so I can see a flash of her motherly smile. “Brace yourself.”

  “If he gives the ‘you’re-a-Hemsworth’ speech, I’m outta here,” Paris snickers.

  “BUT,” he starts as he narrows his eyes and turns his spoon on the others then back to me, his smile not leaving his face once. “You are a Hemsworth.”

  The air is soon filled with grumbles and groans, mixed with huffs of laughter as the other faces in the room all start to join in with the Hemsworths and their family jokes. My eyes flicker to see who they are, but their features all seem a little too blurry and I wonder just how much alcohol I’ve drunk already, today. Folding my arms across my chest, I tilt my head to one side and smirk back across at my adopted father.

  “I’m going to need your help on this one, El Capitan.” I chuckle while holding his gaze.

  He throws his arms flippantly in the air in exaggeration before slapping them back down against his thighs. “Did I not teach any of you anything?”