Once again – Mason does not belong to me but I do own Julie and Tim and the story so here it is – I hope you all like – please leave me a review – I live for them – so please be so kind as to reward me for my efforts – I am most obliged. Sorry for the wait… hope you all like…Also many thanks to CriesofCapricorn for her help as always – she rocks!
Ghost of a Girl
Chapter 4
The Nature of Love
They did not become lovers that night or the night after. In fact, it was quite a while later. They became friends, which seemed like the sensible thing to do, seeing how she was engaged to someone else. However, there was always that spark between them.
They both felt it when they were alone together. There was always a sense of belonging when they hung out. They did not have to speak or address these feelings; they were just there hanging in the air around them.
He found himself ditching his friends to spend time with her. He no longer cared as much for the partying or looking for girls. He felt, for the first time in his life, a reasonable contentment and, for a while, that seemed enough.
She lived with another girl in a fashionable flat near a rather large park. He usually sat out by her stoop and waited for her to get back from her classes. He often brought her flowers or a record (usually shoplifted from his favorite record store). It always made her smile to see him. She would always accept his gifts with the shyest of smiles and tell him that he shouldn't have, but he knew that they pleased her and making her face light up was fast becoming his new drug of choice. The high her company brought him was enough to keep him walking on air for days.
Every time she would round the corner, carrying an armload of books and that shy grin, his heart would beat widely in his chest and his palms would sweat. He was pretty sure it was love. He just knew that he loved her and the idea of her marrying someone else always brought feelings of jealously, anger, and hurt. He wanted to have her for himself, but he, for one, had never been all that good at expressing himself; he kept on playing the part of the charming, befuddled 'friend.'
As she would come up to him, balancing that armload of books, she would reach over and hug him with one arm and plant a kiss of his cheek. The sensation and the smell of her perfume always brought the same sweet mixture of bittersweet pain and longing.
"Let me run inside and get a coat," she would say in that charming American lilt.
They did not need to speak. Sometimes, they just walked in silence, each lost in thoughts they could not articulate. Other times, they chatted of inconsequential things like favorite songs and foods and some such inane banter.
Their meetings were much of the same. Both of them enjoyed the outdoors and they would spend many an afternoon taking long leisurely strolls through the park.
They would stop sometimes to hide along the trees, smoke a joint, and, then, find a grassy spot in a field and look up at the clouds as they rolled past. And they would talk about everything and anything.
On one particular afternoon, they laid on the grass doing just that when she leaned over, propped herself up on one elbow, and looked down on him with a strange expression in her eyes. Her long blonde hair came over him in a curtain and he went to speak to ask her what was the matter, but she kissed him and he responded. How could he not? Her mouth was like warmed honey and her hair felt like silk as he twisted his desperate fingers into the thick of it and pulled her closer to him. They kissed for a while until the urgency of their kisses caused her to pull back. She sat up with wide eyes and her hand over her mouth as if she was scared. He sat up in a hurry and went to wrap his arms around her, but he held up a hand to ward him off.
"Please…" she whispered.
"Julie," was all he could say. His mind was racing in a million different directions and his heart felt ready to come apart in his chest. He wanted her so badly, his whole body ached with the need of her, and, yet, he could not say those things. She looked over at him and told him that she was sorry. "Darling…" he whispered. She stood up quickly and began to back away from him. "Julie, please," he all but begged of her.
"I'm sorry Mason – I shouldn't have –" she turned and ran from him. He watched her flee, still feeling the taste of her lips and the bitterness of that one kiss which she was already reclaiming. He felt haunted by her, by her scent, by her eyes … this ghost of a girl that he loved but could not have. Somehow he would make her real, there had to be a way for things to work because she loved him and he loved her.
He stayed away for three weeks. In those three weeks he went on the mother of all binges consuming whisky by the bottle and pills by the handful. Hell, even his junkie friends warned him about his consumption. But he didn't care; he no longer had Julie. She had made it clear when she had run away from him that she wanted to be with her rich American fiancé and why shouldn't she? He was just a bum.
--
Then, one night while he wandered alone in the park drunk on cheap booze, he found himself at the grassy spot where they had kissed. He went over to the spot, laid on it, and he cried. He had not cried like this since he was a small child and his mother had passed away from bone cancer. He had not understood, then, why he was being left alone without his dear sweet mum, with her huge smile and soft hands or why his father suddenly drank way too much and beat him with a belt when he was naughty. He had not understood, then, the nature of pain and love, but now he did. Love was sharp claws with razor sharp teeth and it tore at your insides until it finally ate you alive. It was then and there he made up his mind to fight for her. He would tell her how he felt and if she refused him, then, he would turn around, leave, and somehow learn to undo her face and her smile.
He walked up to her apartment and banged on the door. She answered her door with a mask of shock on her face.
"Mason," she said, as she glanced behind, nervously.
She was a vision in jean bell-bottoms and a white tank top.
"I need to talk to you," he said, leaning against the doorframe to keep from falling over.
"Now's not so good," she said in a low whisper.
"It has to be now," he said, slurring his words.
"Are you drunk?" she asked and she stepped out into the hallway. Her voice was soft and kind. He could see the pain in her eyes and it comforted him, somewhat, to know that it mirrored his own.
"A wee bit," he said, sagging even farther into the doorframe.
"You have to go home, Mason," she whispered in an urgent tone.
"Not yet, love."
"We'll talk later," she insisted. "Please go –"
Yet, all he did was reach up and touch her face. "God help me, you're beautiful."
There was a sad smile on her face and he saw that her eyes were filled with tears.
She let him touch her and run his finger along the smooth line of her jaw. She closed her eyes and when she opened them again they were wet with tears.
"Don't you know that I love you – really love you?" he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. The tears began to spill down her cheeks.
"Mason – please," she begged backing slowly into the apartment. "Just go home."
"Who is it, babe?" A voice called from inside the apartment.
Mason stiffened visibly and tried to glance into the apartment, but Julie blocked his view.
"Who the bloody hell is that?" he exclaimed.
"Go home," she insisted, pushing him away. "Please."
"Babe…" the persistent voice from the living room called again.
"A friend – be there in a minute," she called to the voice.
Mason pushed her aside and went into the apartment, following the sound of the voice.
"Goddamn it, Mason!" she cried chasing after him.
He stumbled into the living room to find a guy sitting there in pressed khakis and a crew cut. The man was powerfully built and everything about him said 'money.'
"This your friend?" the guy said with a cocky smile, as he gestured to Mason.
"This is Mason," Julie said, visibly upset. "Mason, this is Tim – my fiancé," she said the last part softly. Mason eyed Tim wearily and then he turned to Julie and then back to Tim.
"Hello, Tim. By the way, I am in love with Julie."
Tim looked surprised. Julie paled and went to speak, but thought better of it and looked at both with a mixture of sadness and fright.
"Excuse me?" Tim said, his voice low and heated.
"You heard me – I am in love with her."
Tim stood up, he was a big guy and his whole manner was one of cocky entitlement. Mason hated him on sight. This guy was nothing, but a rich prick. He didn't deserve a girl like Julie, even with a million bucks.
"What is this, some kind of joke," he pointed at Mason who was swaying a bit.
Julie glanced at both of them with this sad expression glued to her face. "He's my friend," she said lamely.
Tim turned to Mason and got in his face.
"You hear that, you degenerate punk, she doesn't want you," he poked him in the chest causing Mason to nearly lose his balance.
Mason, who was too drunk at the moment to feel anything even remotely resembling fear, stood his ground and eyed Tim with a self-deprecated sneer. "Go fuck yourself, mate."
"I'll make you eat those words," Tim said, with a crazy grin. His hands clenched into fists.
"Stop it, Tim." Julie said running up to him and pulling on his arm, but Tim turned and shoved her away from him.
"Stay the fuck out of this, you bitch!" Tim shouted as Julie lost her footing and fell down.
"You asshole," Mason shouted, as he took a swing at Tim. His fist hit the rock hard slab of Tim's jaw and there was a crack. However, Tim quickly shook the blow off him and went after Mason. He took a swing at him but Mason moved out of the way and landed another shot to the face. This time, he broke Tim's nose. Tim stumbled back his hands on his face, which was by now, a bloody ruin. Tim had enough and now he turned towards his fiancé, who was slowly climbing to her feet, as if dazed.
"You fucking this asshole?" Tim demanded of Julie.
"Both of you, stop it!" she yelled.
Mason, looked at her and then at Tim. His voice was a whisper. "Julie, I love you – with all my heart and then some … come with me, please."
Tim laughed outright and wiped the blood from his face. His eyes were slits of raw anger. "She's not going anywhere – look at you – you're a nothing."
"Fuck you!" Mason shouted.
"Stop it!" Julie shouted, silencing them both. Her blue eyes went from one to the other. She turned to Mason and, in her eyes, there was a quiet dignity there that impressed him. Her voice was low and even when she spoke again.
"Let me get my coat."
Tim's jaw literally hit the floor. "What?" he said.
"What?" Mason echoed.
"I'm going with him, Tim. Go home," she reached inside her shirt and pulled out a necklace. On that chain was a ring. She ripped it off and flung it at his feet.
"Go home and bring this to my father. Let him know that I am done with him too."
Tim bent down and picked it up. He eyed her with cool distaste. "You're going to regret this –" he said, looking over at Mason who stood there, overcome with the whole moment. She had chosen him. He was so elated, he felt as if he would break into song.
"I don't agree," she told Tim, with a small smile on her face. "You were wrong when you called this man a nothing," she said, looking at Mason. "You're the nothing – you are heartless, soulless – nothing but a bloodless leech."
"Fuck you both." Tim said with a mean sneer as he went to the front door and left, slamming it so hard the plaster cracked in his wake. A collective sigh burst from both of them once he was gone. In a second's time, they were in one another's arms, crying, kissing, and clinging to one another.
"I just walked out of my life – my family," she whispered.
"We're a family now, Julie. I will always be here for you."
She looked up at him and kissed him softly on the mouth. "My dad will come for me," she said, a note of fright in her words.
"Then, we'll get married, we'll run away, we'll be okay," he assured her quickly.
There was silence as she wrapped herself tightly into his arms. "Mason, do you mean it?"
"Mean what, my love," he said, pulling back to look at her.
"That you would marry me?"
His nod was sincere. "Yes, of course."
"Tomorrow then?" she said, tearfully, as he bent down to soothe her with more kisses.
"Tomorrow," he promised.
The very next afternoon she became Julie Mason. Once she discovered that his first name was really Ebenezer, she constantly kidded him with the nickname Geezer. He was Geezer and she was Ju-lou. They were truly happy, but their happiness was short-lived. Their fairytale had started with tears, and sadly, it would end much the same way. They did not know it, then, when love was young and beautiful, that love, no matter how beautiful, never lasted forever.
There was no such thing as forever.
Thanks for reading – I should update soon as I get some of this school crap done – btw if you leave a review- I will be your best friend – buy you a drink – something? Yes this is me begging so please review!