Always Us by Lizzie Morton

 

 

 

Twenty-Three

 

 

Jake

 

 

I should never have walked away that morning in the tent. I should have stood my ground and pushed harder to get her to listen to what I was saying, made her believe how much I needed her. I left instead, letting my anger and frustration get to me, and now it feels like she’s slipping away.

True Abby style, she hoppedon a plane, straight back to Brooklyn, to somewhere she knew I wouldn’t be. Meanwhile, I’m left here wondering what the hell is going on and what we’re going to do. She can’t deny the pull there is between us.

It scares her. I know it.

I also know that deep down, this has never been about knowing the real reason why I walked away back in high school. It all comes down to the simple fact that I did. She hates that I left her heartbroken after telling her I loved her. Now, it’s about earning her trust and making her believe what we have between the two of us is worth risking everything for, even after everything that’s happened.

When my cell rings, I’m surprised by the name flashing on the screen. I wonder whether I should answer and wonder how much crap I’m in for him to call me at the same time his daughter has returned home.

“Mr. West …”

“You know you don’t have to call me that, son.”

Hearing him say that brings up too many feelings, calling me son. One day I want him to call me it and for it to be true.

“Sorry, it’s a habit.”

He goes for small talk to begin. “Tour going well?”

“Better than expected. We’re living the dream over here.”

The conversation is more strained than usual and evidence he didn’t just call to catch up.

“That’s good to hear. But it’s not why I called.”

“Enlighten me,” I chuckle.

“Abby …”

“Should I have expected anything else?”

He lets out a deep laugh and some of the tension eases. Over time, we’ve built up an open relationship, and occasionally manage to talk about Abby despite being linked in a work capacity, without it complicating things.

My ears prickle at his next words.

“She’s a mess.” She must be bad for him to be so brutally honest and not cover things up to make light of the situation.

Immediately my mind jumps to worst case scenarios. They flash through my mind at an alarming rate and I begin to panic.

“Is she ok? Is she hurt?”

“If you count a long-standing broken heart as being hurt, then yes, she is.”

I groan. “I’m trying my best. I don’t know what else I can do.”

He doesn’t need to know the exact lengths I’ve gone to in order to try and win over his daughter, I hope my word is enough.

“It’s time to tell her the truth.”

Thanks to John West’s position at the record label and the social circles he’s part of back in New York, he’s had an inkling of what happened back in high school, but I never confirmed it.

Especially not when he warned me off his daughter two years ago, when I was ready for chasing her down at JFK before she got on a flight to Cape Town.

He echoed Abby’s words: You’ll hold each other back.

It wasn’t time for our happy ending, sometimes it feels like it never will be the right time.

I sigh. “It won’t make any difference. She still won’t trust me.”

“Telling her gives her one less excuse to clutch at.”

It makes sense and I understand what he’s getting at. Without the past haunting us, Abby will have to face up to reality and live in the present. She won’t be able to use the past as a reason not to commit to us. For her, the issue isn’t the reason why I left, but the fact I left at all. I did it once and she’s protecting her heart from me doing it again, she just doesn’t realize what it is she’s doing.

“I’m trying my best,” I reply.

This summer has been hard, especially watching her fall for another guy, seeing my chance slipping away right in front of me. I don’t know how much more of her pushing me away I can take, and I don’t know how much more I have left to give to someone who doesn’t want to see or hear how hard I’m fighting for them.

“I shouldn’t have stopped you from following her. I know what now and I’m sorry. Whatever this is between you and Abby, it’s as real as it gets, and it’s messy, because love is.” I hear him exhale down the line and he finished, “Fight with everything you have left, and when you’re done, if you really love my daughter, fight some more.”

The line goes dead.

 

***

 

Abby

 

The final part of my trip home went by in a blur. Spending as much time with my parents as I could and making up for lost time was cathartic. The rest of the time I spent resting and wandering the streets of Brooklyn and Manhattan with my camera. After my conversation with Shaun, I had some serious soul searching to do.

As I made my way on to the plane to return back to Europe for the final part of the band’s tour, I would have loved to say I had a clearer head over the decisions I needed to make. But things didn’t feel clearer in any way, if anything, I felt more confused than ever.

I keep trying to stem the panic inside, the feeling that I’m running out of time and will be forced to make a decision I’m not ready to make, but it’s hard to keep it all in. All that keeps ringing through my head is the one question my parents and Shaun put at the forefront of my mind. Does the truth really matter?

I’ve spent the past two years hung up on the idea that if Jake gave me this snippet of information, things would suddenly seem clearer that I would be able to make a decision, but in the grand scheme of things it would change absolutely nothing. I realize now that it was never about getting the truth. I gave him everything, gave up my heart and told him I loved him, and he left.

The real question is, do I have it in me to give him everything again, knowing what he can do when he has my heart in his hands?

We’ve been on the tour bus for a few hours, and I haven’t said much to anyone. I know I need to get out of my funk and stop acting like such a bitch to everyone. We only have this last tour date left and I need to count my blessings and make the most of it.

“I can’t believe we’re in England!” Zoe throws her arms around Sophie, bouncing up and down in her seat, unable to contain her excitement. “I have always wanted to come here. I also can’t believe it’s sunny. I thought it always rained?”

You’d think over the trip, that she’d open her eyes more to the world around her, alas no.

“Again, with the stereotyping. You shouldn’t always believe what you see on the TV,” I say.

“Netflix has a lot to answer for. It’s where I get most of my knowledge,” she says smugly, as if it’s something to be proud of.

“I can tell.” I leave it at that, deciding not to take my bad mood out on her.

She ignores my underhand comment and moves the conversation on. “Where are we going to?”

“I think Sooz said it was called Leeds Fest?” replies Sophie.

Attempting her best English accent, Zoe says, “Sounds a hoot. Is that what the English say? Hoot?”

“Seriously Zoe, you need to take it down a notch. What’s gotten into you lately?” says Sophie.

She looks far too annoyed for just a few comments, which leaves me wondering whether during the time I’ve been home in Brooklyn things have been challenging between the two of them.

“Is she okay?” I lean in and ask Sophie when Zoe is preoccupied with something else.

She shakes her head. “I’m not sure. She’s been over the top like this ever since that night with Shaun. I think she’s trying to make us think she’s fine, when really she’s not.”

“Sounds familiar.”

“Anyway, are you alright? Did being home help?”

“Yes and no.”

I look down the bus to where I know Jake is sitting. We’ve seen each other briefly, but all I could manage was a small nod of acknowledgement. I’m still not ready to talk to him.

“At least you had a break. Maybe it’s done you more good than you realize.”

“I hope so.”

I don’t tell her about the sleepless nights, tossing and turning in bed, wracked with guilt over the Jake/Dan scenario. I know she suspects there are things I’m not telling her, but she doesn’t push it any further, for which I’m thankful.

“Have you spoken to Dan? Will he be here?”

“No and yes,” I say.

“You haven’t spoken to him?” She looks shocked by my answer.

“No. Is that bad?”

“Kind of. I thought you guys hit it off. You seemed deliriously happy after your date so I thought you might have at least spoken to him a couple of times.”

“I’ve tried, but I just can’t face it.”

I look away. I know I’m fighting a losing battle and I’m going to have to tell them what happened between me and Jake.

As if she reads my mind, Zoe returns to the conversation.

“Is there something you’re not telling us?” she says.

“Erm …” My hesitation is a dead giveaway.

Zoe narrows her eyes. “Abby don’t fuck with us. We know when you’re lying.”

They both sit waiting, clearly not going to back down until I tell them what happened back in Spain.

“Jake and I slept together,” I say looking down at the table briefly.

“That’s a nice way of putting it, but you’ve already told us that,” Zoe says misunderstanding what it is I’m trying to tell them. “I think last time you described it as he fucked you against a wall.”

“No, you don’t understand. This time we slept together … When we were at Benicassim, in the tent.”

The words coming out of my mouth are humiliating. I’ve spent all my time telling everyone how angry I am with him, how I don’t want him. Yet, as soon as the opportunity arises, I do the complete opposite. Even to my own ears I sound pathetic.

Zoe gawps. “Holy cow, but what about Dan? It seemed like he was really good for you.”

“He was, I mean he is. I just don’t know any more. My head is so screwed.”

“It makes sense now why you ran back to Brooklyn,” says Sophie, a look of understanding on her face.

“I just needed some space.”

“Are you going to see Dan again? You can’t just leave him like you have,” Zoe says.

“I know. He wants to go out on another date later today. I haven’t given him an answer.”

“That’s a good thing.” The optimism on Sophie’s face has me feeling the same, almost. “You’ve only had one date with him. How do you expect to make such a huge decision based on that one night? I think you need to spend more time with him and get to know him a bit better. Then things might seem a little clearer.”

“You’re right. I’m just getting fed up with all the back and forth with the two of them. All I do is go around in circles.”

“That’s a sign that it’s time to make a choice. Have the date with Dan, enjoy it and see how you feel after. Let yourself have some fun and live a little, Abby. Don’t overthink it, just see it for what it is, a date. If thing don’t seem clearer, that’s fine too. No one is forcing you to decide. It’s only you that’s putting that pressure on yourself.”

“I’ll try.” And I will.

But knowing myself and my own mind, I know it’s going to be tough to allow myself to relax. Especially when guilt is constantly playing with my mind.

“Not try,” says Zoe firmly. “You will, or you’re going to drive yourself mad. Not everything has to be all or nothing. Jesus, we’re only twenty-six!”

“I just feel like with Jake, my time’s up. I don’t think he’s going to be able to take much more.”

“If he won’t wait and give you the time you need, then he isn’t the one for you like he claims to be.” It’s unusual for Zoe to be so insightful, and what she’s saying makes sense.

I’ve been pushing myself because Jake keeps pushing, but what’s the rush? Why do I need to make a decision now, just because he’s decided he’s fed up with waiting? He should have thought about that when he kicked my ass aside all those years ago.

After our conversation, I feel refreshed and ready to see things with a fresh pair of eyes. It’s time to take things into my own hands and make choices for myself, when I want to, not when other people think I should.

 

***

 

Zoe looks around at the thousands of female festival goers, with a bemused expression on her face. “Can someone please tell me why they’re all wearing rubber boots? And why do they have such big hair? I didn’t know back-combing was still a thing.”

We’re standing to the side of a large open area, taking in the scene around us. It’s a little overwhelming and I’m feeling a bit disorientated.

Zoe continues to ramble on. “I thought England was small so they wouldn’t have the space for a big festival. This is huge, like the biggest one yet.”

“You’re unbelievable sometimes, you know that?” I say.

Although she does have a point. I don’t think any of us would have put this down to be the band’s biggest performance.

“This isn’t one of the biggest festivals,” says Sooz. “It’s the biggest festival. It’s also where the guys biggest market is and a really big deal. We’ve got our work cut out and there’s so much PR stuff we have to do. We all need to be on top form.”

“We’ll get through it.” I try to make my voice sound more convincing than I feel. “You’re the best for a reason and everything is going to go without a hitch. Don’t fret.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about.” She looks at the three of us making it apparent that she sees us more as a hindrance than a help.

“I’m going to pretend you don’t mean anything by that,” I laugh.

She walks off, leaving us to scurry behind, and shouts over her shoulder, “Of course I didn’t.”

A few hours, interviews, and photoshoots later, I’m starting to understand what Sooz meant. This is the biggest workload we’ve had by far and we’re only a few hours in. Thankfully, Amanda and I resolved some of our issues back in Spain, as we’ve been working closely together. I don’t think we would have managed quite as well if there had been the same level of animosity between us.

“I’m beat,” I groan. “Like seriously, this is breaking me. Why is this so hard?”

“Are you coming down with something?” Sooz pales as she takes in my appearance. I must look like crap and the last thing she needs when we’re this busy is to be a pair of hands down.

I try to brush her concern away. “It’s just all the travel and emotional stress finally taking its toll.”

“Is it just that? You’ve been looking a bit peaky recently. I guess life on the road isn’t the healthiest. Maybe you’re deficient in something? We’ll have to get you booked in with a doctor when we get back to Cape Town.”

When I think about it, she’s right, I have been feeling off for the past couple of weeks. It probably has something to do with all the heavy drinking we’ve been doing. I have no idea how Sophie and Zoe have managed to keep going like this for years. How their livers are still functioning with the amount of partying they do is beyond me.

“I’ll be fine, we just need to get today finished with and I can call it a night.” If only.

It was wishful thinking on my part that I’d be able to get through the afternoon and then be able to rest. Just as we’re rounding things up for the day, I bump into Dan in the VIP tent. I want to be happy to see him, but I’m just too exhausted.

“Abby, hi.” He sounds awkward and I don’t blame him. He’s sent multiple messages since our date, and I’ve replied to none. I’m surprised he’s even giving me the time of day.

He still manages to bring a smile to my face, and I reply, “Dan …” That’s all I manage, suddenly unable to muster the energy to say anything more.

“You don’t look too great.”

Under normal circumstances I would be embarrassed, but I don’t care about anything other than finding somewhere I can be horizontal and undisturbed for the night.

I reply wearily, “I’ve had better days.”

“We can postpone tonight if it’s too much?” Even though I haven’t replied, he’s assuming we’re going to have a date, but I’m too focused on my need to crawl into bed. “I’ve been trying to call you for the past couple of hours, but I kept getting voicemail, the signal is crap out here. Are you sure you’re not sick? You could have picked something up on the plane because you really don’t look good.”

“I don’t feel it either.”

He stands, with concern on his face, contemplating what to do.

“Come with me.”

He grabs me gently by the elbow and attempts to keep me steady on my feet as he steers me out of the VIP tent and away from the hustle and bustle of the main festival area.

When we’ve been walking for a while, I figure out that he’s taking me to where the tour buses are parked. Rather than heading in the direction of the one I’ve become familiar with over the summer, we detour to his own. His band’s bus is bigger than Jake’s, and seriously sleek. I stop and stand in awe when we enter, taking in the sheer luxury around me.

Steering me to a set of huge couches, he gently pushes me down with little effort. My body hits the huge squashy cushions and I sigh with relief, feeling like I’m floating on a cloud.

“Sit and don’t move. You need food.”

I expect a private chef to pop up out of nowhere and begin cooking up a gastro storm but am pleasantly surprised when Dan grabs an apron off the side of a small kitchenette and starts to cook.

“You cook?” I try to hide the amusement in my voice, not wanting to offend him in any way.

“There’s a lot about me I hope you’ll get to know.”

I could become addicted to the smile he gives me. There’s a twinkle in those blue eyes which are staring and making me feel things I don’t want to. Things that make this whole mess even more confusing. Reminding myself of what Sophie and Zoe said, I shake the thoughts away and try to enjoy myself and getting to know him, rather than placing so much emphasis on making a huge decision with someone I barely know.

I sit back, get myself comfy and watch as Dan dances around, humming and cooking, filling the bus with the most delicious smells. However, not even the greatest meal in the world could keep me awake. I’m so bone achingly tired that before I notice and have a chance to stop myself, I give into sleep.