by Stacey Longo
“Emily…what’s going to happen when we get back?”
As soon as the traitorous words flee my mouth, I regret them. She pulls away from me a little and her smile is gone. I long to feel her weight against me again, but she frowns, and my heart is a little colder for it.
“I don’t know, Miles…” She blinks. “I just don’t know.”
“Would you like anything from the cart, sir?” The air hostess’ voice cuts through all, slicing and abrasive. I scowl up at her and her big, false smile flickers. “A drink, or perhaps some food?”
I glance down, questioningly, at Emily. She’s gone. The seat is empty.
“No.”
The air hostess makes my breath of denial an answer, and moves on. I scowl at the empty seat, trying to recall why I feel so depressed. I can’t. I turn back to the window and watch us land.
***
I pass passport control in a mind-numbing queue of mind-numbed people. Nobody looks at me. Nobody smiles. Nobody even acknowledges my presence except those directly in front or behind me in the queue; and even then only so much that they don’t walk straight over me. I glower at the back of the man in front of me.
By the time we finally make it through to the lobby I’m angry. Not furious raging anger, but a bored, dull throbbing of hate for everyone in the place. It’s unreasonable, I know, but I can’t help it. I have to get out of this place now. My phone buzzes uncomfortably against my leg and I juggle luggage to reach it.
I’m watching you xxx
Emily? What the fuck? I pirouette wildly, trying to catch a glimpse of her. People curse and hop out of my way. I ignore them. Where is she? What is she doing here? My head aches as I scan the faces of the milling crowd. My phone buzzes again and I almost drop it.
Behind you sexy xxx
I swerve and knock a man’s baggage from his hand. He shouts at me but I’m not listening. I catch a flash of blonde hair through the packed walkway. Shoving and pushing and swinging my baggage before me I rush towards her. She’s got her back to me. I drop my bags and hug her to me, laughing aloud.
“Emily! What the hell are you doing here? God it’s good to see you. You look amazing. I…”
“What the hell are you doing?” The girl that isn’t Emily shoves me away. I fall back into the crowd. The man next to her about-turns and glares at me. “You pervert! What the fuck?”
“Shit. I’m so sorry. I…” I get up and scrabble about for my luggage. “I thought you were someone else.”
I move back into the crowd, away from the angry stares of her boyfriend. Mistake. I trip over someone’s luggage and sprawl face first into someone else’s boot. It catches me under the chin, clacking my teeth together painfully. I hear laughter. No one offers to help me. The anger’s back, and so is the headache. My phone buzzes, sharp against the floor. I get up, dust myself off and pick it up.
Bad luck. :P Love you. See you at the party xxx
What the fuck? What the fuck? I stand still in the middle of the seething crowd and look around for blonde hair and green eyes. They aren’t there. Hope turns to ashes in my mouth.
I stand there for a long time. Then I leave.
***
I can’t wait to see you. I want you so much. Why did you go away for so long? I’m never letting you leave again xxx
I smile and take a last drag on the cigarette. Tradition dictates amongst my closest friends that any arrival or departure from, or to, holiday demands a celebratory party. Any excuse. It’ll be good to see Henry. And, of course, Emily will be here. The cigarette begins to burns at my knuckles. I flick it away; out of the circle of the street lamp and into the night. It hits the ground in a shower of sparks, locked in darkness, and glows there for a moment, slowly fading away. For a second, the sparse glow throws a shadow against the alley wall. The shadow moves. I jump. The light fades. Everything is still, and dark, and silent again.
Jittery, I rap out a quick rhythm on the door. The muffled roar of music and many people talking over one another reaches me through the thin walls. I try to relax a little, but something makes my skin crawl. I cast a glance over my shoulder. Nothing but midnight.
The door opens, blinding me with light.
“Miles!”
“Henry!” I laugh and pull my friend into a rough hug.
“Miles, you bastard! You owe me money.”
“Do I hell!”
“Well, maybe not actual currency, but my time is worth something and you’ve completely ignored me for the last week.” Sardonic, smiling, Henry shakes his head at me. I grimace and he ushers me into the living room with a grin and an expansive gesture. We walk into a solid wall of heat, sound, and smoke.
“Bloody hell, mate, open a window.” Henry just grins at me, smoke twisting in his eyes.
I follow him into the gloom. Music and laughter mingle with curling smoke. It’s a small sitting room, with two sagging sofas leaning against the walls. Not designed for the sheer number of people crammed into it. There are four cheek-by-jowls on each two-man sofa, and the floor is littered with others—islands among a sea of scattered bottles and ashtrays. I laugh as I pick their faces out of the smoke and shadows, smile and shout greetings. The grumble of many people speaking is punctuated by several surprised replies.
“Where you been, Miles?”
“Spain! Holiday!”
“What…”
“How’s it goin’, John?”
“Good man, how was Spain?”
“Bloody glorious, mate.”
“Miles! We missed you!”
“Aw, bless. How’s it going? Did I miss much?”
“You know, not really. Same old, same old…”
I follow Henry into the kitchen, waving off any further attempts at talk with vague gestures indicating beer. The kitchen’s a little less smoky, which is a relief. The heat and the cloying smell of marijuana make me sweat a little. Henry picks a beer from the fridge, snaps the cap off with his teeth, and hands it to me. I swear and dive over the sink as it froths up over my hand. He laughs. My phone buzzes.
B there soon. Want u all 2 myself. Lose Henry xxx
“What you smiling about?” I look up. Henry’s frowning at me in a vague “I’m trying to remember something” fashion. I shake my head at him.
“Oh, nothing. It’s just Emily.”
His face falls, frown deepening into lines of sympathetic anger. He takes a swig of his beer, avoiding eye contact.
“Uh…didn’t you dump her, Miles?”
Now I’m frowning. What is he talking about?
“Look man, I was going to say…” He closes the door behind him, suddenly a far more serious and sober individual than I’m used to. “Look, if you need anyone to, y’know, talk to, well…we all saw how it was going, mate. It got pretty shitty at the end, and I know Emily said some pretty rough things about you in the last week but… I’m here if you need anything. I know you loved her.”
“I do love her.”
“Ah shit. I’m so sorry, man.” He pulls me into a full on bear hug and now I don’t know what’s going on. I’m bewildered beyond speech, so all I can do is stand there. My phone buzzes.
Here. Now xxx
“Damn.”
“What?”
“Emily’s here.”
“What?” Henry pulls back. A door slams. Emily’s laughter cuts through smoke and music like diamonds and glass. My heart shudders, stops, a long moment, and I can hear whispers; then it starts again. I take a step towards the door, but Henry grabs at my shoulder, swinging me around. His face is desperate, and there’s something like pain tightening the corners of his eyes.
“Don’t, man. Look I’m really sorry you still feel that way but you were gone for like two weeks and a lot’s happened since then and she’s got a…”
“Miles!” I turn to her. Her green eyes meet my blue. Nothing exists but the two of us. I smile.
“Emily.”
There’s a very long silence. I drink in every line and curve o
f her. God I’ve missed her. God I love her. God I…
She slaps me.
“What…” I stumble backwards. Henry conveniently relocates outside and closes the door behind him. “What was that for?”
“Those weird fucking texts you keep sending me.” She’s terrible in her fury. “What the fuck, Miles? You finished with me, remember? Stop sending me texts saying you still love me. We’re done.” My cheek burns with shame and her handprint. It’s probably the last time she’ll ever touch me. I frown.
“But…you texted me. First, I mean, before I texted you.”
“What are you talking about, Miles?” Her voice is full to the brim with icy disdain. I can’t understand what’s happening. I drag my phone out and flick down to the text.
I love you.
“Look. There!” I thrust it in her face, determined to prove that this is some kind of sick game she’s playing.
“Yes. And?”
“But…it says…”
“That I hate you.” She’s staring at me, arms crossed over her breasts and eyes stony. I look down at the phone.
I hate you.
“Oh.”
She says something else but I don’t hear it. Something’s happened to my senses. I can’t hear or see or feel straight. I wobble and prop myself against the cabinet. She turns. I can’t help but drink in every curve of her body as she walks away. It’s like drinking poison. She leaves the room. She leaves it a little colder than it was when she arrived. I slide down the wall into a sitting position, knees pulled up to my chest. My beer makes a heavy noise as it hits the floor beside me. It’s the sound of finality, the sound of a terrible mistake that can never be undone.
I scroll through my inbox. Everything flickers before my eyes. The texts are gone. All of them. Gone. Just that one line, the one I got in Spain. But it’s not…
I hate you.
I begin to shudder and, just like that, I’m gone. A pebble caught up in a landslide. The world shrinks, blurry and dark to the edges. Every breath is hot. Not hot, but warm, fetid. My stomach tightens, nausea. I can’t think, I can’t breathe, I can’t move, and my heart is racing, racing, racing. Panic, it clutches at the back of my head. Control it, control it, slow the breathing, slow the heart. Slow. Slower. But it only gets faster, faster, faster. Bastard. I fight it, hitting out at waves of heat and cold that only grow in strength and speed and, oh no… That metallic taste at the edges of my mouth; floods of saliva that curl my tongue at the edges.
I’m going to throw up.
Fuck. I try to move slowly; try not to let anyone see me, see what’s happening to me. But it’s too strong. My racing heart, it’s my master now, and it speeds up. I stumble into the bathroom, wondering if it’s too late, feeling my gorge rise, that sickly heat on my chest, that pounding in my head… I see someone pass me in the grey edge of my eye. They talk but I’m not hearing; there’s just that roaring crashing thumping emptiness and I can’t even think anymore. I slam the bathroom door behind me.
It echoes.
If anything is the calm before the storm, this is it. The muffled insulated pulsing of my heart pressing on my head like a blanket, making me sweat. Fight or flight? You can’t fight this.
A wave of darkness passes over me, and I lose control.
After a while, the world stops spinning enough to survey the situation. I made it; it’s even a pretty, neat mess. The stench of vomit makes me gag once more, and then it’s gone in the crash of a typhoon of porcelain. My hands shake against the floor as I watch the water disappearing beneath me. My eyes are damp with unshed tears.
“It’s all right, Miles. Hush now.” Emily’s hand is cool on the back of my neck. It gives me strength. I smile. She hands me a roll of toilet paper. I wipe acrid spit from my mouth and nose. “There, that’s better. Don’t worry about her. Forget her. She’s being silly, she’ll come back. This is just her getting back at you. Give it a few days and then talk to her, let her know how you feel. She’ll come back, don’t you worry. I should know…”
I laugh at that, bitter and disbelieving. I lean back against the wall and as I turn my head, she’s gone, if she was ever there at all… There’s disquiet in that thought, fleeting and lost before I have the chance to examine it. I shiver. My breath mists before my eyes. It’s freezing. Despair creeps in on the cold sheen of sweat and prods the wound that Panic made. I feel wretched. I cough and splash water from the sink in my face. Dry it off, trying not to think at all.
I hate you.
I yell and hit out. It’s wordless, thoughtless red anger. My knuckles connect solidly, painfully, with something in a resounding crack. Then the anger’s gone as quickly as it came, drowned by the cold and the despair. The mirror’s glass is cracked beneath my fingers, my face splintered and fractured. The shattered reflection of a mockery of a man.
I stare at it, at me, for a long time…
There’s a knock at the door.
“Miles? Man, are you okay?” It’s Henry. I look away from that cracked mockery of a man and move to the door. “It’s okay, mate. Emily has gone. Said she didn’t want to cause any trouble or something…” I open the door.
“You look like shit.” He scowls at me. I laugh at him, hearing shrill black humor in my voice. It’s scary. I take a deep breath.
“I’m fine. Just…yeah, just a bit messed up.” I smile grimly at him. “Er…I think I broke your mirror though.” I shrug a little sheepishly.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll sort it out tomorrow.” He frowns. “Why’s it so fucking cold in here? Did you open a window or something?” We both glance at the window.
It’s closed.
***
“Miles?”
I let the furor of yet another party wash over me: heat and sound and taste and smell, hot and loud and beer and smoke. I’m glad I let Henry talk me into this. I don’t know anyone else here, but at least there’s no chance of Emily turning up. I smile at a pretty girl who wanders past me with a beer. She smiles back. Stunning.
“Miles!”
“Hm?” I turn to Emily. She’s scowling at me.
“You’re ignoring me.” She’s got her hands on her hips and she’s not just scowling, she’s positively glaring at me. I know that look. If I don’t head her off, I’m in for a dangerous night. But somehow, after everything that’s happened between us since I got back, I just can’t care. I take a drag of my cigarette and blow smoke in her face. She vanishes.
“Hey, stranger.” It’s that girl. I smile and take a swig of my beer.
“Hey yourself.” She’s not just pretty, she’s bloody beautiful. Her eyes meet mine. They’re a rich, deep brown, so dark they’re almost black, and I lose myself in their depths. We stand there for almost a minute silent and staring. Then I laugh.
“What’s so funny?” She’s pouting. I chuckle harder.
“No, sorry. It’s just… You’re so goddamn beautiful.” I wipe tears from my eyes and grin at her.
“And that’s funny?” Her voice says hurt, spiky irritation. She turns away, offended. I catch her gently by the shoulder.
“Sorry. Can we start again? I’m Miles, and I think you’re stunning.” I grin in what’s hopefully a charming manner. Her face softens and the beginnings of a smile curve those dark, beautiful lips.
“I’m Charlie.”
“Charlie…” I let her name roll over my lips like a kiss. “Charlie, do you…”
Stop. Something’s wrong. I try to speak, choke, gag. Icy fingers grasp my throat, stopping words, breath, thought. I can’t breathe, I can’t move, I can’t think, and Charlie turns to me, sees how pale I am, and steps away from me.
“That dude’s gonna hurl!” Some helpful bastard yells drunken delight from the open doorway. I cough, choke, and the pressure of many amused eyes is too much, too much. I turn and I run: out the door, down the path, round the corner, and across the street into darkness.
As soon as I’m alone, that cruel suffocating grasp releases me. I stumble an
d flop down against the wall, gasping and coughing. My vision clears slowly, from one type of blindness to another. It’s a while before I can think straight. I just sit there in the shadows, breathing deep and slow.
What the hell just happened?
I limp home, slowly, unable to return to the party after making such a fool of myself. I curse myself with every stumbling step. Damn. She was so beautiful. Charlie… Charlie… God I wish… I catch the echo of footsteps behind me, tap-tap-tapping through the dark in time with my own. I glance over my shoulder but there’s no one there. Spooked, I speed up and almost jog the last hundred yards to my house.
I unlock my front door, drop my shoes quietly in the hallway, and shuffle into the sitting room. I collapse into a chair, not even bothering to turn the lights on. Then I sigh, let my head drop drunkenly back against the cushion, and close my eyes.
“You bastard.” The darkness hisses at me.
“What the fuck?” I shriek shock. My eyes dart wildly, trying to make sense out of shadows. Slowly, they adjust. I see Emily, caught in a bar of street-light sliding through the gap in the curtains. It slants across her face, making the rest of her body amorphous and invisible. I curse as the pieces fit together slowly and awkwardly in my numbed mind.
“You! It was you! You choked me! You stopped me from talking to Charlie, made me look like…”
“Charlie? You mean that slut you were fawning over? I did you a favor. She was just using you. She couldn’t ever love you like I do!” In the thin line of light I catch the flash of bared teeth, the glint of a glaring eye. My mouth dries. “Isn’t this what you wanted? Isn’t this everything that you asked for? Me, forever in love with you?”
“Christ, don’t you get it, Emily? We are over! You made that perfectly clear, and no amount of dreaming is going to get us back together. Especially not when you do something as fucked up as this!”
There’s silence. A long silence. A car drives past on the street outside, splashing through the puddle of yesterday’s rain. I’ve never heard anything sound more desolate. For a moment I think, I hope, she’s gone.
“You’re really ending this? After everything we’ve been through together, you’re going to let one stupid little slut get in the way? You’re ending us, because of this? Because of her?”