Always You by Lizzie Morton

 

 

 

Four

 

 

6 years earlier

 

I can’t believe he’s here, with me. I was sure he wouldn’t come and that this was all a big joke to show up poor, shy Abby who daren’t talk to anyone. It’s the opposite. He’s here and he’s friendlier and more attentive than he was before.

Over the past couple of months, we’ve only chatted on our cells. Sophie introduced us officially on a chat site, as he goes to a different high school in Manhattan, like some of the others in our group. She met him through Sam as they’re in a band together.

It’s incredible, but in the short space of time we’ve been talking, I feel like I know him better than anyone, even though I’ve never had the confidence to be open with him in person whenever we’ve crossed paths while out with the rest of the group.

Most nights we chat online and laugh over video camera. We talk for hours. Those moments are everything and I feel like he knows and understands me, even more than Sophie and Zoe.

I was sure when we first met, he liked Zoe. She outshines everyone around her, with her openly flirty and confident ways. Why would he prefer me, when I could barely open my mouth, barely look at him because I was so nervous?

But now … he’s looking at me. It feels like I’ve overcome a hurdle, one I was too scared to jump over. Now that I’ve finally found the confidence to be with him in person, we’re moving forward. I’m not sure whether it’s as friends or something more, but it feels amazing.

We run as quickly as we can to the nearest subway, but, typical of a fall downpour in New York, it only takes seconds for us to get soaked to the skin. Water droplets run down my face, clinging to my eyelashes, smudging my makeup. I don’t care. Nothing could ruin this moment.

As the subway sways steadily from side to side I tilt my head upwards to try and look at his face without him noticing. I catch his eye and can’t look away. I’ve wanted to know what it would be like to stare into those deep brown eyes for so long, but never thought I’d get the chance. Now, it’s real. He’s here, just a few inches away, with a genuine smile on his face.

He surprises me by leaning in slowly, our faces are millimeters apart and I swear my heart stops. I hold my breath waiting and hoping. Instead, he moves closer to my ear and whispers, “This is our stop, Abby.”

Pulling away and moving quickly off the subway, he drags me with him.

As we’re walking away, cutting through the crowds, he glances back over his shoulder with a knowing smirk on his face. A smirk that tells me he knew exactly howmuch I wanted him to kiss me.

 

***

 

Present Day

 

“Abby. Wake up, it’s lunch time.”

Somewhere in the distance, someone is talking and keeps shaking me. They keep doing it. Eventually it registers vaguely that it’s Sophie’s voice I can hear.

I feel groggy. Like I have the hangover from hell. Then it hits me where I am, and the hangover I’m feeling is in fact the exhaustion of dealing with Sophie, Zoe and Michael the night, (maybe I should say morning) before.

I remember the dream I had, and a wave of nausea creeps over me. It’s been years since I’ve dreamt of Jake. This is not a good sign.

“Hey, Abs, you ok? Your face is doing this weird scrunched up look, like you’re in pain, or taking a giant dump, or something,” says Sophie.

I choose to ignore her comment. It’s her roundabout way of showing concern.

“I had a dream about Jake …” I admit.

“Oh? That would explain it. So, like a sexy one?”

“Can we not focus on sex for a minute? I had a dream about Jake, Soph. It’s been six years since I had one, not that I was counting or anything. We see him last night and boom, off they go again. I’ve not even been back for twenty-four hours and already I’m on a downward, Jake-driven, spiral.”

I throw myself back against my pillow with a thump and look up at the ceiling, trying to blink away the tears making my eyes burn.

“You ok?” Sophie asks, even though she knows I’m anything but.

“Not really. Why did you ask me to come and get you if there was a chance he would be there? I know you guys are all still friendly. Did you know he was going to be there?”

She holds her hands up in the air and shakes her heard. “I didn’t, I swear. You know I wouldn’t do that to you. I’m sorry I called. Zoe was wasted and I needed help. But then I got wasted too … I didn’t mean for any of that to happen, I swear.”

Zoe, who was dead to the world moments ago begins to stir thanks to our raised voices.

Without opening her eyes, she mutters, “What the hell? Where am I? Why do I smell so bad? Please tell me I didn’t hook up with some randomer again. Please, God when I open my eyes let me be alone.”

One eye opens into a slit and she peers around the room until her gaze settles on Sophie and me. She lets out a huge sigh of relief.

“Dramatic much?” I say.

“Thank you, God. Abby? You’re back? When?”

I roll my eyes. “You don’t remember anything from last night, do you? You were absolutely wasted … again. I had to come and get you.”

“So, I didn’t hook up with anyone?”

“The only people you slept with are in this room,” I reply.

Sophie snickers, “It was an eventful night. You outdid yourself, babe.”

Zoe groans and rolls over, so her face is pressed down into the pillow. “What did I do?”

I quickly summarize the events of the night, being extra careful not to leave out any of the drama and place emphasis on how embarrassing the whole thing was. Particularly for me.

“I’m so sorry, Abby. I swear, I don’t mean to do these things to you.” She’s pale and puts her head in her hands. It’s clear she’s feeling guilty but I’m still annoyed. “Anyway … Jake’s back?”

Sophie nods. “Apparently so, and he chose last night to make his grand reappearance. Typical.”

“Back?” I ask, looking between them both. “What do you mean back? Where has he been?”

They’re reluctant to give me any more information, but I give them a pointed stare, making it clear I’m not amused they’re keeping something from me.

“Are you sure you want to know this?” Sophie asks.

We’ve had an unspoken rule over the past six years, that anything related to Jake doesn’t get mentioned. Ever. Rather than sticking with my guns, I nod my confirmation, unable to find the ability to say yes. Sophie shuffles back down the bed and gets herself comfy next to Zoe before beginning.

“He’s been on tour … He formed a new band with some of the guys a few years back. They started doing small gigs here and there and got a rep in the underground music scene. When they got some money behind them, they invested it in recording an album.”

She pauses for a moment, trying to gauge my reaction, but I choose to give nothing away that would make her stop, so she continues.

“They made a music video that Jake’s girlfriend helped put together, and it went viral on YouTube with like twenty million viewers or something ridiculous. With all the hype, they were approached by a bigger band and asked to support their tour along the West Coast, which is what they’ve been doing for the past three months.”

Zoe chips in, “It finished this week, and they obviously hopped it straight back home. Word is a record company is interested. Like really interested. Abby, are you listening?”

I must look like I’ve zoned out, but that’s because all I can focus on is one thing. My heart is racing, and a distant ringing grows louder, as I feel the pressure of a migraine forming.

“Jake has a girlfriend?” I say.

It’s irrational to feel this way. It’s been six years since we were together, and we were teenagers in high school. It was never going to go anywhere even if we had lasted longer. Still, I feel physically sick at the thought of him with someone else. Jake was my first love, or maybe truer words would be that he was ‘the’ love.

He was the first one to capture my heart and when he broke it, I never quite got it back. Well … I did. Some broken, mangled version of it, that’s been incapable of sharing those feelings with anyone else.

I’ve put up many walls over the years, after the train wreck that was our breakup. Mainly to block out the memories of being with him and how he made me feel. A therapist would say I’ve been sticking my head in the sand and delaying the inevitable feelings of hurt that will come when I finally face up to what happened. Basically, it’s all going to come back and bite me in the ass.

“I’m going to sound like a bitch here,” says Zoe, “but you can’t act shocked. He has a life, and with that comes a girlfriend. We’re all different to what we were in high school, even you. We’ve grown up.” Sophie snorts at the irony of Zoe’s last statement, which she chooses to ignore and continues. “People change. You have. And what about Michael? It’s been four years since you met him, I thought you guys were doing great?”

The mention of Michael grounds me enough, that I’m able to reply. “They were … I mean are. I don’t know. I thought I was doing great and finally moving on, but then I bump into Jake and bam! All those memories come flooding back.”

Sophie leans over and rubs my arm reassuringly. “We get it. I mean I bump into exes and it’s always hard. There are some that get under your skin and you can’t get rid of them. It feels like sometimes there’s no closure …” She trails off looking distant, as if she’s being drawn into her own memories of heartbreak. She quickly snaps out of it and says to Zoe, “Stop rolling your eyes at me. Just because you’re a cold-hearted bitch towards anything with a penis.”

“I’m not cold-hearted. I just see them in a practical light, and I’m capable of having good sex without all the emotional attachment crap.”

The truth is Sophie and Zoe are opposites when it comes to guys. Sophie has always been a big softie who wears her heart on her sleeve. Then there’s Zoe. Sophie pretty much summed it up. She’s hard as nails and uses guys for one thing, sex. Anything else she claims is a waste of time and energy. Sometimes I think she has a point.

“Which is also not healthy,” says Sophie. “There’s just something about your first …”

“Not that I would know with Jake,” I say. “We never even got that far and look at the state of me. Imagine if we had ...”

I face plant the duvet in frustration.

Sophie chuckles and says, “Stop imagining Jake naked. Things won’t get any easier talking about him constantly. I vote we get more rest because I could sleep for years. Let’s properly catch up in a few hours, when we don’t feel like we’ve been part of a train wreck.”

“I’m down for that,” says Zoe, needing little persuasion as she snuggles back down to sleep.

“More sleep sounds good,” I agree, noticing how tired I still am. As an afterthought I say to Sophie, “Although you are the one that woke me up in the first place.”

“Things will seem better when we wake up later. Promise.” She rolls over to her side of the bed and drops off instantly.

I doubt things will feel miraculously better just from sleep. That’s not how my brain works when it comes to anything Jake related. There’s a reason I’ve stayed away for so long, but I don’t say this out loud.