The One who got Away

The fact that she’s talking about girl code in the same sentence as asking me to fuck her is laughable. Old me definitely would’ve gone for it. I would have enjoyed the dangerous aspect to it, but tonight I’m not feeling it. I don’t want to assume that it’s because I’ve seen Leah and I’ve been reminded of the person I might have become, but I know that’s a big part of it. Screwing Sally is reverting too far back. I don’t want to be that person anymore. I actually do want to take everything that I’ve learned to become a better version of myself.

“Sorry, Sally,” I say while hopping off the bar stool. “But I have a guy code too and since you fooled around with Brandon I don’t think I can. You have a nice night though, okay? Say bye to Rosa for me.”

“What?” Her face flames red with rage. I have a funny feeling this might be the first time that she’s ever been rejected for a random hook up. “Guy code? You and Brandon used to hook up with the same girls all the time.”

“Yeah… in high school.” Did we? I suppose we just hooked up with so many that we never really thought about it. “But now I’m more grown up. I don’t want to be that way anymore, so I guess I’ll see ya.”

I turn and walk quickly, trying to avoid a scene. It’s time to face the love birds because at least there I won’t be able to cause any unnecessary drama. I forgot how much it follows me around here!

“What happened there?” Brandon laughs as I take my seat. “Was Sally trying to bed you? She’s gone a bit like that these days.” I guess Jenny doesn’t know that he used to bed her all the time back in the day. Probably best that I don’t bring that up! “I can’t believe that you rejected her though, what has gotten into you?” He turns to Jenny, basically ignoring my shrug. “This guy was honestly the player back in the day. He had all the girls drooling at his feet. It was sickening. I think the only one who didn’t like him was Leah.”

My heart leaps, I wonder if this is a trap. Does he know and he’s trying to get me to confess?

“Well, I can imagine that Leah doesn’t like anyone who isn’t super dependable,” Jenny answers, trying to be a bit diplomatic about the whole thing. “I mean, look at Patrick. That’s her type, right?”

I stare into my glass darkly, wishing that I could make some sort of derogatory remark about that. Boring Patrick will be out of the picture soon, then they’ll see that he was never her type. There’s no way she has the chemistry with him that she does me, no chance in hell. She’ll succumb to it soon enough.

“Let’s get rip roaring drunk!” I yell with a sudden burst of defiance. “I’m back and it’s time to celebrate. What do you think guys?” They share a look, speaking in silent couple code, which pisses me off. I don’t want to be on the outside of that, especially not with my very best friend. “Oh, come on, it’ll be fun. We can go back to being sensible tomorrow. For tonight, let’s just have some fun.”

“Fine,” Brandon finally answers with a grin. “Fuck it, why not? It isn’t every day that the wonder boy returns! Let’s get the shots in.”

“I think I might leave you boys to it,” Jenny says, ducking out. “Have a good time, okay?”

I don’t know if she just doesn’t want to get drunk or if she sees that we need some time alone together, but I’m grateful that we’re getting space. Maybe me and Jenny will end up getting on alright in the end, who knows?

Chapter Seventeen – Leah

My eyes snap open rapidly, I feel like something has shocked me awake. For a moment, I remain lying in my bed in a bubble of panic, trying to work out what it was. My mind concocts all kids of wild theories from the world ending in a blaze of fire, to a crazed gun man in the house, but in the end once my brain calms I realize it must have been something happening in my sleep. I have vague memories of he who shall not be named knocking at the door and reshaping my life in the craziest way possible. I cannot believe that he still creeps into my dreams after all this time. It’s been five years and still Zane Morris sometimes stars when I sleep.

Wait! All of a sudden, I bolt upright in bed. Wait, that wasn’t a dream, he really is here.

My pulse kicks up again as I try to work out what really happened and what didn’t. My brain is already a bit sleep addled in the morning, but today it feels off the scale. It’s almost as if something dramatic has shaken me right up. Something dramatic like the one person I never thought I would see again showing up.

As I push myself into a standing position, I remember the feeling of opening the door and seeing him there. I can’t even remember what I was wearing, how done up I was, all I can think about is him. He’s grown up into an undeniably sexy man, even better than he was as a teenager, so much so that I was stunned. That’s all that really changed, I don’t need to be all dramatic about it and think that everything is different, I was simply surprised. Now, the next time I see him, I’ll be much more used to him and I won’t even need to talk to him much. I can simply treat him with the cold contempt that he deserves. Even if he did say sorry…

I groan to myself, feeling the power of that apology once more. Mandi was right, his words did mean something. He wouldn’t apologize if it wasn’t something that’s been troubling him for a long while. Maybe he’s been thinking of me over the last five years, wondering if he’ll ever get the chance to make it right. It’s just a shame that he didn’t return six months ago before I met Patrick and started dating him.

Urgh, as soon as those words fill my brain I feel bad about myself. I shouldn’t be thinking anything like that. It doesn’t matter when Zane came back, we aren’t meant to be so it isn’t ever going to happen. Trying to make something happen between us is crazy when we’re so wrong for one another. I met Patrick for a reason, he’s the one that I’m supposed to end up with. And maybe we can even make our spark more intense, if we just work on the chemistry side of things then we’

ll finally have it all and I can shut everyone up once and for all.

I have the sudden urge to speak to him. Usually we text in the morning and throughout the day before sharing a phone call in the evening on the nights I’m not at his place, but today I want something more.

Ring, ring… ring, ring… ring, ring…

I chew my thumb nail and pace the room while I wait for him to answer. It seems to take him forever…

“Hey, Leah.” He sounds rushed and panicked. “What’s going on? Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, everything is fine. I just wanted to say good morning to you.” I cradle the phone close to my ear, trying to let him warm voice soothe me. I really need to feel him. “How are you feeling today?”

“Erm… I’m okay.” He sounds unsure. “I’m just getting dressed for work. Are you sure nothing has happened?”

“Can’t I just ring you up to say good morning?” I let out a little laugh, but the sound is strained. I guess I’ve never noticed how much Patrick’s routine annoys me before. Mostly because it lets me know what’s expected of me and it means I don’t have to worry that I’m not communicating enough, but it doesn’t leave any room for spontaneity. This feels a little more restricting than dependable. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Oh, no it isn’t that,” he replies, much too lightly. “I’m just running late this morning that’s all.”

“Oh right, I’ll go then.” His words are like an ice cold bucket of water racing over my head. “Sorry.”