It feels weird that you can know someone for such a short amount of time and then not be able to imagine your life without them. Gideon and I have fallen quickly into a pretty comfortable place that looks very much like what a happy couple looks like. And I feel happy—actually, really, happy—eighty per cent of the time. The other twenty per cent I just feel sad that all of this good stuff is happening and that Kelly’s not here to share it with me.
I’ve been trying my best all day to push the melancholy away but it’s like it’s swirling around my insides making everything feel heavy. Kelly and I had spent hours talking about the formals we’d go to and what we’d wear and how fun they would be. She should be here and she’s not. And even though I feel happy and beautiful and like I want to have an amazing time tonight, I really do, moments like this remind me that she’s not coming back. She’s gone.
It makes the cracks in my heart that feel like they’ve been repairing themselves break all over again.
Ava looks out-of-this-world beautiful, like stop-the-words-from-exiting-my-mouth, make-my-body-long-for-her beautiful. I had zero intention of ever attending my formal so it feels a bit crazy that in just a couple of months I’ve managed to do these normal things. Meet a girl, become friends with that girl, kiss that girl, have sex with that girl, for god’s sake. Calling that girl my girlfriend and now going to my formal with that girl is just beyond ridiculous. Anything feels possible now. Not exactly because of Ava, but because all of these previously impossible things turned out to be entirely possible.
I can’t stop staring at her across the back seat of the car. She holds my hands tight and I squeeze them to make sure this is all real, but something doesn’t feel right. Ava hasn’t said much all night.
‘Are you okay?’ I ask.
‘Yeah.’
‘Are you sure? You just seem a bit…quiet.’
‘I’m just thinking,’ she says and my heart sinks a little. What is she thinking about? Is it bad? Is it about me?
‘What about?’ I ask.
Ava looks out the window, and then slowly turns to face me. ‘I just miss her.’
Of course it’s not about you, you selfish dickhead. ‘I know,’ I say.
She tries to smile. ‘I just wish she was here.’ I can see the tears in her eyes start to well.
‘Oh, Ava, it’s okay. It’ll be okay. We’ll have a good time. We’ll dance like idiots and you’ll forget—’
‘I don’t want to forget,’ she snaps. I’ve said the wrong thing. That’s not what I meant. Fuck.
‘No, I don’t mean forget Kelly, I just mean, forget that…’ I don’t know what I’m trying to say. ‘You’ll forget that you’re sad,’ I mumble, but it hasn’t worked, Ava has let go of my hands.
‘Sometimes I’m just sad, Gideon. Sorry if I’m ruining your perfect night.’
‘No. No. Ava. That’s not what I meant. Shit.’
Is this our first fight? Is this a fight? Fix it, Gideon. Fix it.
Silence. Neither of us says anything for what feels like ages.
‘I’m sorry,’ she finally mumbles, patting my leg and looking at me. ‘I just feel weird.’
‘I know. It makes complete sense that you would feel that way. Of course you miss her tonight.’ Ava softens a little and I feel a little relieved. ‘We don’t even have to go if you don’t want,’ I say.
‘But you look so handsome,’ she says, and I laugh.
Ava breathes in deep. ‘No. We’ll have a good time. We will. I’m fine.’ She exhales loudly. ‘Yup. Let’s have a good time.’ I can’t work out if she’s trying to convince me or herself.
But by the time we get to the hotel Ava and I are laughing and it’s like the weirdness in the car is definitely behind us. We hit the dancefloor like it’s what we were designed to do. We don’t talk to anyone else. We’re in our own bubble trying to make each other laugh the loudest with stupid dance moves or by madly singing along to the songs. I don’t even care that I’m the world’s shittest dancer; I look like a broken pogo stick with a curly wig balanced on the top.
But I don’t care. All I care about is being here with her. She is all I care about. It’s the worst feeling knowing that Ava is upset, but what’s worse is knowing that there’s absolutely nothing I can do to fix it.
I sit on the edge of my chair in the darkened room, trying to catch my breath, watching the dancefloor while I wait for Gideon to get back from the toilet. It is going off. Teachers are doing their daggiest moves, most of the girls have abandoned their heels and there’s a group of boys laughing loudly. Lincoln is one of them. They synchronise their shoulders and shimmy back and forth. He looks happy. I laugh at them—right at the exact moment he exits the dancefloor. Our eyes lock. Lincoln nods at me and I grin. It’s the first interaction we’ve had since Kelly’s birthday.
He sent me one text a few days after, it was in the early hours of the morning and all it said was: hey. I ignored it.
I look back to where he’s standing and he holds his phone in the air, staring at me. I don’t know what he means. He points to his phone, so I grab my purse and pull my mobile out. There’s a text from Lincoln.
Hi.
Hello. I text back without thinking.
My phone vibrates. You look nice.
Thank you. I hit send. And then start typing again. So do you.
I watch him read my message. He smiles then starts to type something, except he stops and looks away for a moment before he starts typing again. I watch my phone, waiting. Until finally…
Sorry.
That’s it. I don’t know what to say. Part of me wants to ask him what part he’s sorry for exactly. Part of me is just glad he even said it. Part of me doesn’t know what to think. My phone vibrates in my hand. Want to dance? I smile and look up at Lincoln and nod. I do.
Lincoln walks towards me, starting to dance. When I reach him he holds his hand out, I take it and he spins me around.
‘You look very beautiful, Aves.’ He slurs a little as he puts his arm around my waist and moves us from side to side.
‘You’re drunk.’ I shake my head at him. ‘But thank you.’
‘It’s my formal.’ He smiles. We don’t say anything, we just dance. ‘So—’ He laughs.
‘So.’ I look at his face, and my heart pangs because all I can see is Kelly. They have the same smile, the same eyes. She’s not here and she should be. ‘She would’ve loved this,’ I say.
Lincoln stops dancing and I worry for a second that he’s going to freak out, but he doesn’t. ‘Yeah. She would have.’
Lincoln pulls me closer so we’re hugging, but our feet keep moving from side to side, so we’re still technically dancing. It feels weird and safe and wrong and comfortable all at the same time. I know I should move away but I can’t make my body actually back away from the embrace.
He whispers in my ear, ‘I’ve missed you.’
I lean back slightly and look at his face, expecting him to immediately take it back, but he doesn’t. He’s being serious. I don’t know what to say. But I don’t have to say anything because he quickly spins me out and I go flying, the shock and the speed making me laugh, and that’s when I see Gideon standing at the side of the dancefloor. Staring at us; looking pained.
My stomach twists and I let go of Lincoln as Gideon steps towards me.
‘Who’s this guy?’ Lincoln jokes.
‘This is Gideon,’ I say, smiling, trying to keep the mood light. ‘He’s—’ but Gideon cuts me off.
‘Her boyfriend,’ he spits, aggressive.
I watch as Lincoln’s shoulders tense. ‘Boyfriend?’ Lincoln looks at me. I nod. He smiles, amused. Looks Gideon up and down. ‘You’re her boyfriend?’
‘Yeah, I am.’ Gideon grabs my hand and pulls me towards him a little too intensely. He realises instantly that it was too hard and looks at me, apologising with his eyes, but he doesn’t let go of my hand. I feel weird.
‘Woah, mate, calm down. We’re just dancing. Just two frien
ds dancing.’ Lincoln grabs my other hand and tries to move me around like he was before. I let go of both of them and step back.
Gideon moves towards Lincoln, closing in, and pokes him in the chest. ‘I know all about you, Lincoln.’
What is happening? What is Gideon doing?
‘What do you mean by that?’ Lincoln pokes him back and then looks at me. ‘What does he mean by that, Aves?’
‘Gideon, calm down.’ I grab his hand and pull on his shoulder, trying to get him away from Lincoln, but they’re staring each other down. ‘What are you doing?’ I lean up and whisper in his ear.
‘I’m sticking up for you,’ he hisses back.
I reef him around to face me. ‘I don’t need you to stick up for me.’
‘God! It’s like you lose your fucking head around this jerk, Ava. Or don’t you remember what he did?’
‘Oi! Back off, dickhead. Ava can do what she likes,’ Lincoln says.
‘No, she can’t,’ Gideon spits.
‘Excuse me?’ I say, shocked.
‘I didn’t mean that. I just mean’—he looks at me, his eyes big, pleading. ‘He hit you.’
‘Is that what you told him? Ava? That was an accident,’ Lincoln scoffs.
‘That’s what I said.’ I look at Lincoln, then back to Gideon. ‘Calm. Down.’
‘She doesn’t need you anymore. She’s got me.’ Gideon looks directly at Lincoln.
‘Oh really?’ Lincoln bumps his chest into Gideon’s but Gideon doesn’t back off. This can’t be happening.
‘Both of you, stop!’ They’re chest to chest with their eyes locked, looking like they’re going to murder each other. Gideon is shaking. I start to pull him away.
‘She’s a good root, isn’t she, mate?’ Lincoln snarls.
And everything falls away. I can’t move. I can’t hear anything, except this whooshing sound. My heart beats hard in my chest. Gideon is right in Lincoln’s face saying something when Lincoln pushes him. Everything slows down as I watch Gideon stumble back and then immediately step forward with his fist outstretched as it pummels directly into Lincoln’s face.
Gideon hits him. Punches him in the nose, hard. Lincoln falls back and lands on the floor with a thud.
Everything comes back into the moment and I can hear Lincoln groaning and Gideon panting and I step in between them. Lincoln is bleeding and Gideon is frozen, looking at his hand.
‘Ava, I…’ Gideon murmurs and Lincoln mutters something. Not really words, just this deep grunt. He jumps up. ‘You fucking piece of shit.’ Wiping his nose with the back of his hand, smearing blood across his cheek. He launches at Gideon so I push him backwards, trying everything I can to get him to look at me, to get him to focus on me and not on killing Gideon. I grab his face, one palm on each cheek—begging him to look at me but he won’t, because he’s too busy pushing against me and pointing at Gideon, who isn’t moving, just standing still.
‘Lincoln, look at me. Lincoln, just stop it.’
I stumble back with each push of his weight as he reaches for Gideon over my shoulders. ‘I’m going to fucking kill you,’ he screams and I don’t know what to do. My heart is racing and I can’t think and I’m breathing fast and so I do the only thing I know to do when it comes to Lincoln.
I kiss him.
I kiss Lincoln hard on the mouth with both my hands still on his face and he’s tense at first, he tries to pull back but I just push against him harder, my whole body pressed against his. Then I feel him move his body into mine. I can feel both his hands on my face and he kisses me back. Thrashy and hard and intense. And then I hear two things: my own sobbing and Gideon’s footsteps as he runs away.
I don’t know how long I’m outside before Ava appears. I’m crouched on the footpath outside the hotel trying to catch my breath. I’m sobbing. Trying to work out what the fuck just happened and what I just did. How could I have been so stupid? But seeing them dancing like that—it just turned my insides to lava and I felt completely out of control.
Ava touches my shoulder. I look up at her and she’s panting. She’s been running and her mascara is all over her cheeks. I stand up and grab her tightly. Holding on to her like everything depends on it. It feels like it does.
I don’t know what’s wrong with me, it was just when her name came out of his mouth, something snapped inside me and every ounce of my anxiety morphed into anger. Every bit of disappointment, confusion and embarrassment turned into white-hot rage. I can’t say anything. I can’t. I’m being fuelled by some other part of me. I’m shaking. I can’t believe I hit someone. On purpose. I wanted to hit him. I wanted to hurt him.
‘What just…I’m so sorry,’ Ava moans.
‘It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s okay,’ I say quickly, squeezing her, and she pulls away. Looks at me.
‘Gideon, no. You should be angry.’
I nod, putting my hands on her face to convince her. ‘I am angry.’
Ava looks confused and she speaks slowly. ‘I kissed him.’
Those words sting every inch of skin. ‘Yeah…but you didn’t want to—’
‘I—’
‘Did you want to?’
‘I don’t know. No. But…’ She pauses. ‘I did. And you can’t just pretend that didn’t happen.’
‘But I can’t lose you, Ava.’ I try to kiss her but she pulls away.
‘Why aren’t you angry?’ Ava pushes me. ‘You should be furious.’
‘I’m just—’
‘Gideon?’
‘Because it’s my fault. It’s all my fault. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.’
‘Why are you apologising?’
I need to tell her, convince her. ‘Because I hit him. I shouldn’t have hit him. If I didn’t hit him then none of this…It’s my fault. I don’t know what happened, I saw you dancing and I got jealous and I’m sorry. Let’s just pretend it didn’t happen.’
She closes her eyes and a weird sound, a kind of moan, slips from her mouth. She says, ‘I can’t…’
‘What?’
‘I can’t do this anymore.’
‘What?’ No, no. Not this. Fix it. I need to fix it. ‘I just…Please, Ava, don’t break up with me,’ I sob, screaming inside.
‘I can’t…’
She stops and this awful look of clarity pierces her eyes.
‘We can’t be together anymore.’
‘We can’t be together anymore.’ The words come out of my mouth before I’ve even actually heard them.
Gideon freezes. His brown eyes widen and his lips part as though he wants to speak, but he doesn’t.
I pace. I let the words fly out. ‘I shouldn’t have done that, kissed him, and I don’t know why I did. I’ve been so happy; you’ve made me happy. Maybe I don’t know how to be happy anymore. I think I am just—I’m scared of it because I feel guilty. I feel guilty because she is dead and she’s not coming back and she wasn’t happy and I didn’t help her and how is it fair if I get to be happy without her?’
‘You deserve to be happy, Ava.’
‘Yeah. So do you. I mean—’ I stop, trying to speak. ‘I just…Gideon, you mean so much to me.’
‘No.’ He shakes his head, crying.
‘I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m saying. I don’t want to make you sad. And I have, and it’s almost like that’s inevitable right now and I just think—’
‘Ava—’ He stops me. We breathe heavy as we stand opposite each other. We’re both crying.
I wait for him to say something, anything, but he doesn’t. He looks so helpless and I start rambling again.
‘Please, Gideon, tell me that you don’t hate me. I couldn’t cope with that. Tell me we can still be friends. Gideon? Please?’
Please? It hangs there in the space between us like honey dripping down the side of a jar, all thick and slow and heavy.
I don’t want to break up. I don’t want to reach the end of this conversation. I don’t want her to leave and not call herself my girlfriend anymore. I feel like we�
��ve both just landed in this brilliant spot where everything is right and then boom. Wrong.
Ava doesn’t want me. I think my body is in shock.
‘Gideon?’
‘Thing is’—I say the first thing that comes to mind—‘that I love you.’ I feel the poem sitting in the pocket of my jacket directly over my heart, mocking me. ‘And I don’t know if can…’ I hear my voice rise, get louder. ‘I don’t know if I’ll be okay, Ava. Not if this is the choice you’re actually making.’ I see her expression change but I don’t stop, I rant on. ‘And maybe it’ll be your fault if… if something bad happens to me.’
Ava’s face turns the whitest of white.
She shakes her head at me in a perfectly distilled combination of pity and anger.
‘How dare you?’ she heaves from her chest. ‘I can’t believe you would say that.’
What have I done? I didn’t mean that, not even a little bit. I just wanted her to seem hurt, to feel something like I was feeling.
Ava is disgusted. ‘I thought I knew you.’
‘Ava! I didn’t—’ I try taking two large steps to get to her before the inevitable happens: she turns around and bolts. She’s around the corner and probably halfway home before I can even open my mouth.
I look after her, gaping.
‘Ava.’ Talking to the empty air.
I spin around on my heel and punch the concrete with all my strength.
I storm inside the house with my parents on my tail. We’ve just spent seven hours in accident and emergency to learn that I’ve broken a bone in my hand. I’m now sporting a cast, and have an appointment with a surgeon on Monday.
To their credit they tiptoed delicately around me at the hospital, trying to get the details of what happened. And they waited until we were close to home before they let loose with their questions and concern, but I can’t deal with it. Not today. I just want to go to bed and not wake up till it’s all over.
Beautiful Mess Page 18