There was a video I remember watching in class when I was nine, about a dolphin who had lost his way from his parents and it didn't know what to do or where to go. I could never emphasis with that clip until now, because I could finally relate with the dolphin. We both felt lost. Confused. Heartbroken. Deserted. We both felt like there was no hope. And there was nothing we could do about it.
I must have mumbled something that Ian heard, because he started stringing words of apologies, but I didn't remember what I said because I was in a state of disturbance. What did he say again? He was with someone? Like... in a relationship?
That's when everything started falling into place.
"I thought - I didn't want to send you a message of romance with this gift," Ian shook his head, sorrow and remorse stinging his eyes. "I'm so s-"
"The ring," I blurted out. "Is that who it's for? Your girlfriend?"
I studied him, reading him like an open book. I continued to put the pieces together. "Why didn't you tell me? I don't even know what your girlfriend's name is, much less the fact that you're going to be married! Tell me, why didn't you say anything to me?"
He fell silent, as if he couldn't say the answer without also saying another thing that could be just as toxic. I had a gut feeling I knew what it was.
"Did you know?" I questioned, beginning to feel a burning feeling clogging my throat. "Is that why you haven't told me about her? You knew this whole time that I really like you, way more than a friendship should go, so you decided to keep this away from me? That's the reason, isn't it."
When he said nothing, I knew that every single thing I said was on point. The stupid ring wasn't for me, it was for this unknown woman. She was probably tall, foreign, tan, and beautiful, unlike me. Everything inside me wanted to lunge at the painting behind me and tear it up into a billion pieces and throw it right at the liar in front of me. Instead, I fled.
I wasn't a track star, but if someone was watching my speed from the top of the stairs to the bottom, I bet they'd put money that I was. I sprinted through the living room and picked up the phone from his couch, almost tripping over the mini glass table. The girly room; it must have been decorated by his girlfriend. She probably has her own room too.
I heard my name being called from a distance, the sounds of footsteps pattering, getting louder and louder with every step. I took the opportunity to lunge for the main hall and for the door, but there he stood, the usual goofy smile completely gone. I tried to pass him for the door, but I felt his strong hands grasp my arm.
"Let go!" I screeched, falling to the ground. I suspected he was startled because he let go. I stood up, keeping my eyes on him before pouncing for the door, slamming it behind me. My chest heaved, still collecting everything that happened within the ten minute span. After entering my car and locking the door, I leaned my head back and began to cry, the sobs rocking my body destructively. That's all I could do. Cry. It's all I was doing that day anyways, why not a third time?
"What did I do to deserve this? What did I do?" I uttered, my sobs turning into wails. I could have sworn he was just as infatuated with me as I was with him. Was I the only idiot that believed that? Was I really so ludicrous?
No. Troian thought it. Shay thought it. Ashley thought it. Brant thought it. Hell, my own mother thought it.
I hadn't noticed how cloudy the sky was until raindrops pattered against my windows, interrupting my long weep session. I hadn't even noticed how long I had been there, but it didn't matter. All I knew was that I had to get out. Now.
I opened the engine, my eyes trailing around. From the corner of my eye, I could see something from the window of Ian's house. I turned my head. It was hard to tell when the rain had turned from a small drizzle to a downpour, but I could have sworn I had seen Ian watching me. Shaking my head, I turned my head to the road and started driving. It couldn't have been him. Why?
Because he didn't care about me anymore.
xXx
The knocking at my door didn't phase me at all. I was on my back rested in bed, my eyes as lifeless as death, which stared up at the ceiling. I heard a familiar voice from all the way down the hall, which led me to believe that this person figured out the door was unlocked, but I proceeded to ignore it.
"Lucy? Luce, where you at? I brought pizza!"
Silence. I didn't want any visitors. Couldn't I be alone, for once? I'd be alone when I was an old lady, so why not learn now?
"There you are."
The voice was right at the door. I heard a thump and then my bed began to shift at the movement of another person sitting right next to me. My eyes were closed, but I already knew who it was, just by the signature smell of green apples.
Ashley.
"Honey, are you okay?" she stroked her hand through my brown hair. "We miss you on set."
I continued to stare straight, neglecting her touches of support.
"Are you gonna come back anytime soon?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. What was she expecting me to say? Yes? I wouldn't be around for a while, no matter what. I wouldn't. I refused to. Ashley didn't need to know that, though.
"I can't keep covering you for long, you know."
Yes, you can, I thought to myself. I had told her to tell them I was down with a contagious strep throat because I stood in the rain. Half of it was true - I did sit in the rain for hours, on the steps of my doors, the night that Ian had told me about his girlfriend. Even though he truly didn't tell me. I found out on my own. But, I didn't have strep throat. Troian wasn't answering her phone that night, so I told Ashley to tell Carlos, our show manager, that I wouldn't be there for a few days.
I understood why I needed to be there, since I hadn't shown up for five or six days, but no one understood what I was going through. Not that I'd tell them. Not unless I wanted a chance of pity and sorrow shooting my way, along with a huge chance of the situation showing up in magazines. I hadn't even told Troian about what I've been going through. She believed the whole strep throat story and texted me every chance she got. I replied every other day, not to worry her. I had forgotten to ask her about the reason she disappeared from set, however, I didn't feel like it.
Everything was still, except for the sounds of the strokes of my hair being pet. She spoke up a few more times, making small talk and informing me of essential things I've needed to be told about.
"Oh, and Shay and Sasha say hi, and Ian and Troian told me to tell you that you should call them. And Brant told me to tell you that you need to get your cute ass back to set, and I agree with him."
"Go back," I spoke up for the first time in days. My voice sounded very foreign to me. Very rugged, you could say. I sat up on my bottom. "You said what?"
"Uh.." It took Ashley a moment to retrace her words, which normally would've made me laugh, had she not mentioned Ian's name. "Oh yeah, I said that Shay and Sasha sa-"
"No, not that," I cut in, shaking my head. "Right after that."
"Troian and Ian said that you need to call them," she said, eyeing me very tentatively. "Why? What is it? What's wrong?"
She wrapped her hand around my arm, eyes darting to find emotion. What just happened? What gave it away?
I didn't feel the amount of tears in my eyes until it flooded, becoming too much to contain before spilling against my skin, which had turned a porcelain color within days. Images of the painting flashed into my head, of Ian's sheepish smile after he gave it to me, of the summer I spent comforting him and washing dishes and cooking for him. My mouth curved into a frown as I looked down, sniffling and wiping my damp face with the back of my hand. I couldn't take it. I felt so vulnerable, so weak.
Not another word came out of Ashley's mouth as she cupped my small body into hers. I bit down on my lower lip, a trick I had learned to contain crying, but it wasn't working. Not that time, at least. My hands abruptly grasped the blonde's sweater by the arm, taking my time to weep as she held me tightly. I wanted to spill the beans and tell her everything that had been going on, but if I told her, then I'd risk looking like a fool. Repeating the scenarios in my head made the situation sound extremely pathetic. The fact that I had missed almost a week of work for a crush that was getting married to someone else. But he wasn't just a crush that had formulated a few weeks ago. It had been over four years. And four years was a very long time, in my dictionary.
I needed to tell her. I had to. If I didn't get advice right then and there, I knew I would be stuck in that house for another week.
Rising up, I wiped any remains from my face and looked at her for a while.
Then everything came out.
I told her about how much I liked him, about the night Troian mentioned the ring, about how Ian invited me over to show me the painting and how I kissed him, how he told me he was getting engaged and married soon after. I told her every detail, from the huge ones to the tiny ones that were raked out with my brain. I watched her reactions go from being shocked to pleased to wistful. After I finished, she leaned in to kiss the side of my cheek - but it was more of a French side kiss, where our cheeks merely brushed and she made a 'mwah' sound with her lips. She stared at me long and hard, not with pity, but as if she were slightly enthralled.
"What are you going to do now?" she asked me.
"Honestly? I don't know," I answered truthfully. What was I going to do? I didn't want to go back to set, I didn't want to stay in the house forever, and I didn't want to go out and face the world. "What should I do, Ash?"
She took nothing but time, trying to think of a good answer.
"Illogically, I'd say we should go find some shovels and bury him in his own freakin' backyard and replace Sasha - or Alison, or whoever," she nodded, earning the smallest of smiles from me. "But.. I think, since he wants to talk to you, you should listen."
That wasn't the response I wanted to hear. I didn't want to talk to him, I didn't even want to be near him. Not anytime soon. "No. I refuse." I crossed my arms across my chest defensively.
"Hear me out," she started, putting her hands up. "I said you should listen to him. Meaning, you don't talk." She smiled mysteriously, as if there was a meaning by not talking. I was confused. She sighed, picking up on my perplexed look. "When you don't talk, you're showing him that you don't need him anymore, and he'll come running back to you."
"But I do need him," I blurted, flustered that I actually just said that. Really, did I just say that? How embarrassing. It didn't seem like Ashley picked up on it though, more because she was contemplating her 'genius' plan.
"He doesn't know that," she winked. "If you do that, he'll be dumping his current skank for you before you can say 'wedding bells.'"
Maybe she was right. The plan seemed so far-fetched that it actually seemed like it would work. I responded by gesturing that I understood.
"Then you two'll be together, get married, and live with your cute little dog. 'Kay?"
"'Kay." She embraced me, having a final hug to top it off. She never failed to make me smile, the reason we were friends for so long. "How about that pizza?"
Her eyebrows rose, and I could tell that she was just remembering that she had dropped the box at the door. She scurried off to snatch it up and got under the sheets next to me, opening the box.
"I know you like veggie better," Ashley said, "but I was up for pepperoni today."
"Pizza is pizza, you know?" I chuckled, picking a slice up and chomping on the tip. I was going to ask her a question, but her phone began ringing, so I put it off.
"It's Shay, hold on." She pressed talk and greeted her friend.
As I took a second bite, Ashley's tone frightened me a little bit. I turned my head, watching the look of disturb plastered on her face.
"What? A-Are you serious? How?" she inquired. I continued to stare, putting my unfinished slice back into the box and closing it, putting it aside. "I'm on my way."
She shut the phone and turned to me. I searched her face, shaking my head in perplexity.
"What's going on?" I questioned as she stood up and grabbed her purse from the floor.
"It's Janel," she replied.
"What about her?"
"She was in a really bad accident. Shay said she lost a lot of blood and they don't know if she's going to make it."
