Always You by Lizzie Morton
Seventeen
Waking up the following morning feeling refreshed was never going to happen. Especially when I spent the whole night tossing and turning, anticipating how today with Jake’s band would go. To make matters worse, I sleep through my alarm, so getting ready is a frantic rush.
We’re in the last few days of June, the run up to 4th of July, and along with the excitement of the celebrations to come, the temperature is rocketing. Perks of being self-employed – I get to pass on professional attire and opt for comfort in this heat.
I decide on a pair of black denim short shorts, a loose grey vest and tie my hair up in a messy bun. I slide a headband on to keep as much hair as possible away from my face. There’s no point in makeup as I’m already sweating like a pig and it’s unlikely to stay in place for longer than an hour. I merely slick on a bit of concealer to try and hide the rough night I had.
Glancing at the clock, I see I only have a minute until Dad wants to leave, so I slip on some sandals and grab my backpack with my camera and other gear in. Stupidly I take a quick look in the mirror as I’m leaving my room. It confirms what I already know: I’m a hot mess, but right now I couldn’t care less.
I rush down the stairs and find him already waiting at the door ready to leave. Rather than looking annoyed, he looks amused. “Running late?”
“Didn’t sleep that great,” I reply with a shrug. I can’t hide anything from him, so there’s no point in even trying.
“You don’t need to be nervous, Abby bear. You’ve done bigger shoots than this.”
“It’s not the shoot I’m worried about, I can do that in my sleep. Let’s just say Jake and I didn’t exactly leave things on great terms when we left Lake Placid.”
“Ah … well I’m sure he will be professional. You have nothing to worry about.”
He places an arm around my shoulder and gives me a quick squeeze for reassurance before we leave. Normally I’d opt for walking, but it’s stifling so we agree the subway is our best bet. We’re in Williamsburg within minutes, which gives us the chance to visit a small coffee shop I found a couple of weeks ago. We stock up on caffeine and bagels and sit at a small table on the sidewalk, while Dad catches up on emails, and I people watch in an effort to calm my nerves.
Riffs is virtually empty when we arrive, apart from Shaun and a couple of suits from the label. As the bar doesn’t open for another six hours, I can spread out my gear and get set up.
Eventually, a young woman, who I’m guessing is the band’s PR rep, walks in with an assistant running behind her, wheeling a rail full of male clothing, nodding frantically at what the woman is saying. It all feels very professional for little old Jake and his band, which is when it dawns on me what a big deal this is for them. Today is about doing what’s best for the band, putting whatever issues Jake and I have to the side.
“Aaaaabbbbyyyy,” a voice hollers from the front door. I turn and find Sam striding towards me.
Confused, I ask, “Sam? What are you doing here?”
“Did I forget to mention that I was also in the band?” They were in a band back in high school, but I wasn’t aware they’d continued their musical journey together.
“Yes …” I reply shortly.
He holds his hands up and says, “My bad. Abby, I’m in a band with Jake, Zach and a guy called Ryan. Sorry I forgot to mention it, must’ve slipped my mind.” He throws me a wink like he always does when he knows he’s in trouble.
“Whatever …” I go back to sorting through my gear.
“Come on, Abs,” he says, urging me to look at him. “I didn’t want you to get upset about me working with Jake. I thought I’d give us a chance to catch up before you found out, and then you wouldn’t be able to bitch at me as much.”
It’s like looking at a lost little puppy, and I can see with those big blue eyes of his that he’s genuinely worried at how mad I am with him. I remember that this is meant to be a big day for him and the band, so I’m forced to accept the news and move on.
I smile as a peace offering. “It’s ok. I wish you’d told me earlier, but it’s fine, really. I’m looking forward to hearing you guys play.”
“Thank God. I thought for a moment there you were going to kick my ass.” He pulls me into another one of his signature hugs and places an affectionate kiss on top of my head.
If I didn’t know any better, the amount of physical contact he keeps throwing my way would freak me out, but we’re just friends. Still, there’s a niggle in my gut, warning me that maybe this isn’t one hundred percent the case for Sam. There isn’t time to worry about it, as a throat clears behind us. Surprise, surprise, it’s Jake and his excellent timing. Always catching me in one ‘embrace’ or another.
“People just can’t keep their hands off you these days, can they? I didn’t know our photographer came with benefits. Where do I sign up?” he says smarmily.
I narrow my eyes and clench my fists tightly at my sides at what he’s insinuating. It’s all I can do to stop myself swinging at him.
“Not cool, man,” says Zach as he walks over, having heard everything Jake said. “You said you would keep things professional.”
“I’m not the one struggling to keep things professional,” he replies, looking angrily between me and Sam. This is turning into a disaster.
Fed up with his bad attitude I snap, “Do you always have to be such an ass?” I had every intention of making sure today ran smoothly but his stubbornness is making it impossible. “I’m doing you a favor here. There’s no one else to do the job. Or would you like me to leave?”
I’m calling his bluff. His expression softens and it’s clear he understands we have no choice but to work together. If we’re going to do so successfully, he needs to calm down.
“Whatever,” he huffs. “Let’s just get this over and done with.” It’s not exactly positive, but at least he’s agreeing to carry on.
“The sooner the better,” I say coldly and walk away from the group, back to where I left some of my equipment with Dad and Shaun.
My dad looks unsure how to approach me. “That seemed to go well?”
I want to tell him what Jake said, but doing so could ruin the bands reputation with the label, so I bite my tongue and nod. If he knows I’m lying, he doesn’t say anything. I sort through my gear mindlessly and blink away tears I didn’t even realize were there. All the walls I’ve built up against Jake are starting to crumble, but this isn’t the time or the place to fall apart, no matter how much what he said hurts.
Raised voices come from the group on the other side of the room, all directed at Jake. I filter them out and focus on what I’m doing. When I look up, the room is emptying as everyone makes their way to the outdoor stage. For now, the drama seems to have passed.
Dad nods at me then heads outside too. It’s a small enough gesture to stay professional but gives me the strength I need to carry on. I hold back for a few minutes, wanting to make sure I really have got myself together before I follow.
I feel someone next to me and turn to see who it is. Through the lingering tears in my eyes, I look up at Jake, taking in his torn expression.
“Fuck. Abby, I’m so sorry.”
It happens so quick I can’t stop it. Suddenly I’m bundled into his chest, with his arms wrapped tightly around me as I shake like a leaf. The emotion seeps out of me, and tears I tried so hard to hold back, pour down my face.
Jake stands, holding me, stroking my hair gently as he murmurs repeatedly into my ear, “I’m so sorry.”
He pulls back, looks me directly in the eye and it feels like the world stops. As I look back up at him, I’m overcome with exhaustion from all the tension since I returned to Brooklyn.
Raising his hands, he cups my face and uses his thumbs to wipe away some of my tears, then quietly asks, “Are you ok?”
The way he’s looking at me and holding my face, feels so raw and overwhelming, it’s taking everything in me not to begin crying again.
When I do find my voice, it comes out shaky and unsure. “I’m not made of stone, Jake. You can’t keep using me as your punching bag. I know you’re unhappy I’m here and I’m not exactly thrilled myself, but what you said before was crossing a line. You know me and you know I’m not like that.”
“I can’t control my reactions when I see you with other guys. You bring out the worst in me,” he admits.
We’re still in the middle of the bar. At some point, I’m not sure when, we ended up on the floor, and now I’m sat in his lap. Being in this position and hearing him say these things is beginning to make me feel uncomfortable.
“We should probably move. People are going to wonder where we are.” I go to stand quickly, but with the awkward position we’re in, end up getting my legs tangled and take a hard fall, flattening Jake in the process.
“Crap,” I grunt.
We’re now sprawled out, flat on the floor with every inch of our bodies pressed against each other. Jake’s hands are on my waist, and his breathing has increased rapidly. When I work up the courage to look him in the face, there’s no denying the need in his eyes, backed up by the fact his dick is hard as a rock, as it presses into my stomach. All I can compute is how I want to jump his bones.
Reality comes crashing down when voices approach from outside and I jump away frantically. The fact we’re both in relationships and keep finding ourselves in these situations, which are getting progressively worse the longer we’re around each other, isn’t good.
I tug at my clothes, suddenly feeling self-conscious about how little I’m wearing.
I try to make a quick escape before anything else can happen. Gesturing towards outside, I say, “I’ll just go get set up …”
“I’ll see you out there. I just need a minute …”
I nod and quickly grab my kit, walking outside without saying another word.
The rest of the day goes by without a hitch. I spend my time making sure to get a good mix of staged and natural photos, although the natural ones are easier said than done, considering Jake barely takes his eyes off me the whole time.
The final shoot is the bands stage performance, saved for last to avoid them getting too hot and sweaty, which would mean more outfit changes and makeup. I don’t know what to expect, as I haven’t heard them play, but the girls and my parents have been bigging them up, and the fact we’re here with a record label means they must be a big deal.
At first, I’m distracted, as the light has changed, but then the opening riffs catch my attention. I try not to get distracted from my work. The purpose of today is professional and not for my own private performance. Still, they’re tight as hell, even for a mess around jam, and the song they’re performing is catchy.
Somehow, I manage not to lose focus and get some great photos. The work is different from anything I’ve done in the past couple of years and it has me buzzing with excitement. I feel like I’m back to my photography roots and it’s exhilarating.
The band wraps up their performance and the room fills with an applause from the record label suits and Shaun. The guys’ beam with pride and rightly so. When the congratulations are finished the pack up begins. I speak with Dad briefly, confirming that I got the material needed.
Exhausted, I collapse at a table by the bar, with most of my kit packed away, apart from my laptop. I decide to get a head start on editing before my shift behind the bar. I’m startled when my cell vibrates on the table, having been so engrossed in work. I glance at the time and am shocked to see over an hour has passed. The screen lights up again, persistently, informing me I have a message from Michael.
When I finally open it, it says, [Can’t wait to see you soon, baby xxx]
Annoyed at his use of the word ‘baby’ after I’ve told him before that I hate it, I simply reply, [xxx]
I place my cell back on the table and look up to find Jake hovering, looking uncertain. His cheeks are still flushed from our awkward moment earlier, and I can’t help feeling satisfied that I’m still able to draw such a strong physical reaction from him.
“Can I help you with something?” I ask, looking up through my lashes.
The Jake in front of me isn’t the Jake I know. He’s out of sorts and not at all like the guy I fell for back in high school who was full of confidence.
“Can I chat with you really quick?”
“Sure.” I close my laptop, giving him my full attention.
“So …” He looks around the bar and shoves his hands into his jean pockets.
“So …?” This is nice and awkward.
Rubbing the back of his neck, he lets out an embarrassed groan as he says, “I wanted to apologize for this weekend and everything that happened. I know I said a lot of this before we went away, but I mean it. I can’t help the reactions I have around you. I say stuff before thinking it through.”
I smile knowing exactly what he means. “I seem to be suffering with the same problem.”
“I had a lot of time to think on the way back. Maybe we’re going about this the wrong way?”
“How so?” I’m intrigued where he’s going with this.
“Maybe we’re putting too much pressure on ourselves. Everyone around us knows our past and it feels like they’re watching us with expectations. Other people are always getting involved, and we never seem to get past the first step. I was thinking maybe we need to spend a bit of time alone. Get to know each other again. There was a time when we didn’t hate each other …” he tapers off.
Confused by what he’s spewed at me, I say, “What exactly are you suggesting?”
“Give me one afternoon, we can do something fun. Maybe grab a coffee, have a walk. We could even get out of Brooklyn and head into Manhattan?”
Every part of me screams that this is a bad idea, we’re meant to be spending as little time as we can together, not the other way around. The pleading look he gives me has me wavering.
“Come on, Abby. Please? I need you to see that I’m not the ass you think I am. What we’re doing right now isn’t working. Will you give me this chance?”
Before I know what I’m doing, words spill out of my mouth that I have no control over. “Ok, sure.”
He sighs in relief and grins. It’s the smile I fell in love with six years, and I don’t know what to do with myself. All the fight I had to avoid Jake leaves me instantly. This is not good.
