------
As I weaved my way in and out of the throngs of people I barely knew, John and I seemed to constantly bump into each other. Literally. I'd turn to leave a particular group, and bam, there he was. And every time, Jill gave me just about the dirtiest look I'd ever witnessed in my life. She was too busy mingling to stay at his side, like I knew she wanted to, but she managed to keep us both within eyesight at all times. I felt like some sort of criminal. Even though Jill had only invited about three of my friends, it still seemed like I should have been able to enjoy myself. It was my party, after all.
"Don't let it bother you," I heard a male whisper low, directly behind me. He was so close, I could feel his breath on my neck. Being the jumpy person I always was, I practically leapt out of my skin and spun around - sloshing my martini on a few people close by. He just laughed as I frantically apologized and attempted to pat them down with my napkin. As the alcohol-soaked group walked away, I wiped down the sides of my martini glass and carefully turned to face John.
Taking a tentative sip of what was left of my drink, I then cleared my throat and took a step away from him. "Do you really think this is a good idea?" I asked quietly, ignoring his words as my eyes darted around for Jill. For once, she wasn't in view. She was probably off in the kitchen, making more hors d'oeuvres for her ravenous little friends.
John laughed and took a swig of what I assumed was scotch, or some other whiskey, then rolled his eyes. "I'm a grown man, Lily. If I want to speak to another individual, I have a right to do so." He then took a few steps towards me, his eyes focused on mine.
I cleared my throat again in attempt to stall. As my eyes stayed on his, I could feel myself instinctively moving towards him as well. We were like two perfectly paired magnets, drawn to one another. I had to force my gaze away from his, and only then was I able to step back. "We've already hurt Jill enough; let's not make it worse, okay?" Before he could utter another word, I raised my hand to silence him, then handed over my empty martini glass. "Tell Jill I said thanks, and I'm sorry."
His hand brushed against mine as I surrendered the glass, an electric current sending shivers through my entire body. His fingers instantly locked around mine, keeping our hands together around the glass. "John, please." I whispered, feeling myself levitate towards him once again. He sighed, then released my hand, taking the glass. I quickly backed up, stared at him a moment longer, then turned and rushed through the crowd. Ignoring everyone around me, I frantically grabbed my purse from the closet, then lurched out the front door.
Once on the front porch, I could feel this horrible weight on my chest. It felt as if someone was sitting on me, crushing me into oblivion. The pressure became utterly unbearable, as I stumbled down the porch steps and tried desperately to get to my car. I tripped several times, the heels of Jill's shoes wobbling every which way. Eventually, I just yanked them off and tossed them onto the lawn. Tears were welling in my eyes, blurring my vision, threatening to spill over my cheeks and ruin the make-up Jill had worked so damn hard on. I squinted through the tears and stumbled towards my beat up little Honda, as they finally fell. I collapsed before the driver's side door, clutching my chest and sobbing like an infant. I couldn't stop; the tears just kept gushing over my cheeks and down my chin, spilling onto my dress. No, Jill's dress.
After a good seven minutes, still sobbing and shaking all over, I reached for the door handle and slowly tugged myself up to my feet. Leaning heavily against the car, I blindly fumbled through my purse for the keys. I finally unlocked the door, after several failed attempts, and dropped into the driver's seat. Tossing my purse into the back seat, I shoved the key into the ignition and wrenched it forward, starting the car.
I slid my foot onto the gas pedal and kept it there, but I couldn't bring myself to press down. My eyes just wouldn't stop leaking, and I was terrified that I would end up in some sort of horrible accident, in which I killed dozens of innocent pedestrians. It was a ridiculous thought, but still, I couldn't risk it in good conscience. So, I just sat there, in my impatiently rumbling vehicle, and waited for the sobs to cease.
Half an hour passed and I still couldn't calm down entirely. I was fresh out of tears, but I was still shaking rapidly. Feeling a sudden twinge in the pit of my stomach, I turned to see John peering out the window at me. I could see the pain and worry in his eyes, and it caused the weight on my chest to become heavier still; I had to get out of there.
Clutching the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white, I pulled my gaze away from John and slowly began backing out of the driveway. Once on the road, I gave the house one final glance, then drove off at a snail's pace. I drove in circles around the block for over an hour, trying to remember just where the hell I lived. Guess I was really upset, because driving had always been my strong suit. Jill used to joke about how my brain was more like a Thomas' Guide than anything. You could drop me anywhere and I could always find a way to my destination, no matter what.
After passing Grape St. about nine times, it finally registered in my brain that that was where I needed to go. I made a left down said street, then another left onto Manchester Blvd. Taking deep, calming breaths, I continued straight down Manchester for a while until my street, Lincoln Ave., finally came into view. I parked beside the sidewalk, as always, then grabbed my purse and trudged out of the car. Holding my purse to my chest, I stumbled barefoot up the path and into my apartment complex.
"Hey, Lily, everything okay?" I heard a neighbor call. Stopping, I slowly turned to see it was Mark Hoffman, our resident cop, checking his mail. "Sorry I couldn't make it to your party, but you know how work is." he added, chuckling nervously.
Sighing internally, I gave him a weak wave and forced a smile. "I'm fine, Mark. And don't worry about it." I replied, trying to sound as 'fine' as was humanly possible. He gave a worried look, then started towards me. "No no, really, I'm fine." I assured him, quickly backing towards the steps which led up to my apartment. "At ease, soldier." I added, feigning laughter. I then gave him a quick salute, darted up the steps, and threw myself through the door. Locking it behind me, I slowly peeled my clothes off and shakily moved towards my bedroom. Before I knew it, I had collapsed onto my bed and was fast asleep.
------
When I finally awoke, it was about a quarter after four the next afternoon. I'd slept the entire day away, and missed work. Muttering groggily, I sat up and wandered over to the closet. I pulled an over-sized shirt from a hanger, then tugged it over my head and stepped out into the kitchen to pour myself a cup of two day old coffee. I tossed it into the microwave and nuked it for a minute and a half, then grabbed it and wandered out onto the porch to enjoy.
Yesterday's events were fresh in my mind, but I did my best not to dwell on them. I would enjoy my stale coffee now, perhaps read a book later, then pass out again and go to work tomorrow morning.
Leaning against the wooden railing, I took a few sips of my scalding beverage, and watched as Mark stumbled out of his apartment... Still trying to tug his pants on. "Running late?" I hollered, snorting as he tripped over his own foot and started to topple over. He managed to catch himself, stuffing a two-way radio in his mouth and grabbing his pants with both hands.
"Ehm?" he mumbled, apparently trying to find out where the voice had come from. He finally saw me, his cheeks turning bright red as he zipped up his pants and pulled the radio from between his teeth. "Oh, hi Lily, yeah."
An angry male's voice came from the speaker on his radio, causing him to jump slightly. 'Hoffman! Get your ass over here now!' Mark rolled his eyes and pressed a button on the side. "Five minutes!" he snarled, angrily clipping the radio onto his pants. He sighed, then looked up at me with that cute little pouty face of his. "...Do you think you could give me a ride?" he asked in a hopeless sort of tone. "My car broke down last night and they're gonna kill me if I don't get there soon."
Taking one last gulp of my coffee, I nodded and turned to go back into my apartment. "Just give me a second to put some pants on." I could hear him laughing as I disappeared through the sliding glass door. "Dork." I mumbled, laughing slightly myself.
Setting my cup down on the table by the couch, I quickly hopped into the bedroom to snag some jeans and my bra off the floor. Tugging the jeans on, I stumbled into the bathroom and ripped all the bobby pins out of my black hair, then pulled it up into a loose pony tail; I quickly snapped my strapless bra in place and pulled my shirt back over, then shoved a pair of flip-flops on. Snagging my keys, I quickly rushed out of the apartment, taking the steps two and three at a time. "Alrighty, lets go." I said, grabbing Mark's arm and tugging him towards my car.
"This is really great, thanks Lily," he kept repeating over and over, as he quickly hopped into the car.
I jumped into the driver's seat and quickly peeled down the street before he could even close his door, snorting as he frantically tried to shut and lock it. "You're not gonna arrest me for speeding are you, Lieutenant?" I teased, making a hard left which caused him to slam his hand against the window to keep from smacking his head.
"No, but I'd rather not have a concussion before work, thanks." he exclaimed, eyes wide as he looked over at me.
I giggled slightly and gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder. "Don't worry, I'll get you there in one piece." I assured him, while making another sharp turn. He leaned over some, and I could feel his eyes focused on me.
"What happened to you?" he asked suddenly, a worried tone in his voice.
Clearing my throat, I glanced over to him and raised a brow. "What do you mean?"
He leaned over more and pressed his thumb to my cheek, brushing away a thick line of smeared mascara. "You've been crying." he said simply, holding his thumb up so I could see.
I immediately glanced up at the rear view mirror and cringed, then licked my fingers and attempted to wipe the gunk off my face. "I don't wanna talk about it." I mumbled, slowing the car down some.
He sighed and shrugged, wiping the mascara off his finger and onto his pants. "Fair enough," he whispered. "But you know you can always talk to me, right?"
"Right." I replied, forcing a smile. "Oh look, here we are. And in under five minutes; you'd better hurry." I mumbled, pulling into the parking lot of Mark's precinct. I quickly leaned over his lap and opened the door for him, then sat back in my seat.
"Thanks again." he murmured, reaching over to ruffle my hair and give me a quick kiss on the cheek. "Feel better." He then stepped out of the car and leaned in through the open window to add a playful little, "Or else."
I laughed half-heartedly, trying my best not to look him in the eyes, and nodded. "Later." With that, I did a quick U-turn and made my way back home.
------
I spent the next few weeks doing absolutely nothing, aside from going to work and coming home. I barely ate. I barely moved, unless it was absolutely necessary; I didn't even answer the phone. There were over a dozen messages from Mark on my machine, each growing more and more obnoxious.
Ring. Ring. Ring. You've reached Lily's phone - You know what to do.
Beep. "Lily, it's Mark. Just wanted to say thanks again for the ride. How're ya feeling?"
Beep. "Lily, it's Mark again. Sorry to bother you, but is everything okay?"
Beep. "Lily, it's Mark again. Listen, are you sure you're alright? I barely see you anymore."
Beep. "Lily, c'mon. This isn't funny. Hope you're not dead."
Beep. "LILY. Do I have to shoot your door down? Answer your phone. Answer your door. I just wanna know if you're alive."
Etc. Etc.
As I sat upon the floor, my head pressed against the wall, I listened through all of them for the third time. I had a little box cutter clutched in my right hand, the sharp corner of the exposed blade pressed to the center of my wrist. There were already a few tiny, self-inflicted cuts in my skin. I knew it was stupid and childish, but the pain from the knife seemed to dull the pain in my chest. The more I did it, the less depressed I felt. At least, that's how it seemed. This time, however, I was holding the knife the right way - ready to slide it lengthwise down my arm. Slicing across the wrist doesn't cut the vein enough, and it takes longer to bleed out that way. I didn't know if I was actually ready to do this or not; I just knew that I hated myself for ignoring Mark, I hated myself for what I did to Jill, but I hated myself even more for running from John that night. It was clear there was something strong between us, so why couldn't we just discuss it with Jill? These things happen, right? Why should John marry her? If she loved John and I - wouldn't she understand?
I rolled my eyes as the funny little answering machine voice announced that there were no more messages, then turned slowly to see Jill's black dress hanging in the doorway of my bedroom. I'd hand washed it the night after I'd driven Mark to work, then ironed it myself and placed it in a crisp new dress bag. Shaking, I dropped the box cutter and clambered to my feet, clinging to the wall. With a heavy sigh, I grabbed the phone, and forced myself to dial Jill's home number.
It rang five times, then clicked as someone picked up. "Good afternoon," said the voice on the other end. To my surprise, it was a male's voice; a gruff, male's voice. My stomach leapt into my throat, as I quickly realized it was John. Holding my hand over the receiver, I took a few moments to gather my thoughts. Just those two words had caused my head to spin. "Hello?" he mumbled, sounding more than a little annoyed at my silence. My heart began to pound in my chest, my palms sweating as I desperately tried to find words. Any words at all. Pulling my hand away from the receiver, I took a deep breath.
"Dress!" I exclaimed, rolling my eyes at my stupidity.
John laughed. "What?" He fell silent for a moment, then whispered softly, "Lily?"
Sighing, I cleared my throat. "Y-Yeah." I replied softly, absentmindedly twirling the phone cord tight around my fingers, cutting off the circulation. "Listen, I wanted to give Jill her dress back. Is she around?"
"No. She's at the clinic." he murmured. I could hear him tapping his fingers on something, which only caused me to feel more uncomfortable.
"Oh, well I'm sorry to bother you, but do-"
He cut me off quickly. "You could never, ever bother me, Lily." he said sternly.
I could feel my cheeks burning, a smile itching at the corners of my lips. With a gentle sigh, I nodded, then cleared my throat and continued. "Well, do you mind if I drop it off? I'd rather not run into her."
"I don't mind at all." he replied, chucking slightly. "Jill is off in about three hours, so any time before then would be good."
"Great," I replied, smiling like an idiot. "I'll be there in a few."
"See you then." he murmured, hanging up the phone.
After pulling the phone away from my ear, I just stood there and stared at it, positively dumbfounded. Never in my wildest dreams had I thought I'd be seeing John again. [i]Am I dreaming?[/i] I thought, my heart sinking at the prospect. Quickly untangling myself from the cord, I hung up the phone and hastily pinched myself. "Ow!" I yelped, rubbing the red splotch on my arm. "Alright, Lily, you're awake." I mumbled, glaring at my arm. I sighed softly, quite pleased, then rushed into the bathroom and took a quick shower.
My shower took less than ten minutes, but I spent almost an hour just trying to fix my hair. I blow-dried it, straightened it, curled it, only to end up just yanking it into a pony tail. Once I was content with that, I attempted to put on make-up... It didn't go so well. I had to wash my face twice before I finally gave up. "Fuck it." I grumbled, tossing the mascara and eyeliner into the trash. I then darted into my room and yanked on the one dress I owned. It was pink, frilly, and I had to admit... I'd had it since I was fourteen. I stared at the mirror for a moment, marveling at the fact that it actually still fit, then decided against it. "You're being ridiculous." I whispered to myself, as I tugged the dress off and opted instead for jeans and a black sweater, to hide the marks.
Shoving my flip-flops on, I quickly snagged my keys and the dress, then practically bounced out the front door. Taking the steps several at a time, I stumbled to a halt at the end to see Mark standing before me. "She lives," he mumbled, crossing his arms and giving me a displeased sort of glare, as he teetered on his heels.
"Look, I can't talk right now. I'll call you later, promise." I assured him, leaning up to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. In my haste to leave, though, I'd missed and caught his lips. Blinking, I laughed and pressed my lips to his cheek. "Sorry about that." As I turned to leave, he suddenly grabbed me and yanked me to his chest. "The fuck?" I mumbled, wriggling slightly. "Y-You're crumpling the dress," I stammered, trying to twist out of his bear-like grasp. "Let go."
I managed to twist around so my back was to him, but he didn't seem to mind. He pulled me tight against him, wrapping his arms around my waist and pressing his hands flat against my stomach. I could smell whiskey on his breath, as he slid a hand up my side and grabbed a handful of my hair. Great, he's wasted again. I reached up to grab his wrist, but he quickly stopped me, yanking my hands down and holding them firmly in place at my stomach, causing me to drop the dress. "You're drunk, please don't do this." I whispered nervously, trying my best to pull away. He just tightened his grip, then jerked my head up and to the side so he could press his mouth to mine. Before I could react, he forced his tongue between my lips and twisted my body around to face him completely. Thinking quickly, I wrapped my arms around his neck and returned the kiss, hoping that would startle him enough so I could break free. We'd been through this once before; and while it scared me, I understood the effects of alcohol all too well.
To my dismay, my plan failed; instead of loosening his grip, as I assumed he would when I returned his advances, he instantly pulled me tighter against him. I winced in slight pain, as I struggled in his grasp. "Markf, plaefs." I mumbled, my words muffled and distorted as he continued to mash his mouth against mine. While I didn't hate the taste of Jack Daniels and cigarettes, it still wasn't all that pleasurable of an experience. Eventually, I had to bite down on his tongue; not hard enough to hurt, just hard enough to snap him out of it. He yelped slightly, and pulled back to look at me. Licking my lips, I cleared my throat and wriggled in his arms. "You realize you're drunk, right?" I whispered, instantly feeling a pang of guilt when I saw the shame and embarrassment in his eyes. I sighed and stared at his chest instead. "C'mon, you don't wanna do this. Think of how shitty you'll feel tomorrow if you do something stupid."
Mark let out a slight growl and set me down, then grabbed my chin rather roughly and pulled my face close to his. "I would never hurt you, Lily."
I twitched my nose and winced some, wrapping my hands around his wrist. "You are hurting me, Mark." I snapped, trying to pry his fingers from my chin. He instantly let go, then stumbled backward a few paces, mumbling apologies. "It's fine. Let's just get you to bed." I murmured, quickly bending down to snag Jill's dress. Carefully grabbing his hand, I then proceeded to lead him towards his apartment. "Where are your keys?" I inquired, looking up at him as we stopped before his front door.
"In my pocket," he whispered in reply, snickering like a twelve year old. "Can you get 'em for me? I'm a lil drunk." I rolled my eyes and let go of his hand, then shoved my hands in both his front pockets. "Oops." he mumbled, wobbling slightly as he lifted his hand and brandished the keys before me.
I snorted, trying hard not to laugh, and removed my hands from his pockets. "You are so immature when you're trashed." I mumbled, grabbing for the keys. He giggled and yanked them out of my reach, then jingled them directly above my head.
"Mistletoe?" he mused, bending down to kiss me once more. I allowed him to do so, then nipped his bottom lip and jumped up, snatching the keys. "Hay!" he exclaimed, staring at his now empty hand in confusion.
Unlocking the door and setting Jill's dress down on the couch, I turned and led him inside. "You're also not all that bright." I murmured, stifling laughter as I shut the door behind us. I quickly tugged him through the mess he called home and pushed him down onto the bed. He grinned, muttering something about this being more like it, then reached up to grab me. I slapped at his hands, then shoved him back against the pillows and shuffled to the edge of the bed. "Go to sleep." I instructed, sliding his shoes off and tossing them to the floor. Moving back over to his side, I bent down to give him a quick kiss on the forehead. He grinned and grabbed my waist, yanking me on top of him. "Mark, please," I grumbled, growing tired of his antics. "I have somewhere to be and limited time to get there."
He frowned and loosened his grip on my sides, but still held me there. "I just wanted to tell you something."
"Then tell me."
"I love you." he whispered, his tone so serious I almost started to believe him. But he was drunk, and this was silly. I groaned and tried to climb away, but he just grabbed my thighs and held me down. "I'm serious, Lily, I love you." he insisted, his golden-brown eyes burning into mine.
I sighed and leaned forward, touching my nose to his. "I love you, too." I whispered in reply, partially serious and partially just trying to shut him up. I did love him, though. He was my very best friend - but, as I sat up straight, I had a sinking feeling that wasn't what he meant.
"That's not what I mean." he grumbled, causing me to slap my hand to my forehead. 'Here we go.' I thought, rubbing my temples. Reaching up, he gently grabbed my hands and tugged me forward. "Do you believe in soul mates?" he whispered, kissing at my fingertips.
"This is ridiculous, Mark," I mumbled, trying to pull my hands away. "You're drunk and you have no idea what you're saying." He tightened his grasp slightly, while still trying to be as gentle as possible. I could feel my cheeks burning, but I wasn't sure why.
He sighed and nipped my finger. "I'm not that drunk. And it is not, Lily. Answer me."
Soul mates? Of course I believed in them; I believed wholeheartedly that John was mine. Not like I was going to tell Mark that, though. I huffed and laced my fingers with his, then shimmied down and to the side, so I could lay beside him. Unlocking his fingers from mine, he quickly wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close, resting his chin on my head. "Yes." I breathed, wondering vaguely if I'd made a mistake in writing Mark off completely. He was so sweet and caring and strong... And he made a good living. Maybe chasing a married man wouldn't be my smartest move. I sighed heavily and allowed my head to rest comfortably on his chest.
"Then stay with me, just for tonight." he murmured, pressing his lips to the top of my head. "Nothing funny, just keep me company while I sleep." he added, brushing his thumb against my shoulder.
I gave a defeated sigh, then untangled myself from his arms. "I need to make a call." He nodded and pointed to his cell phone, which was resting on a pile of dirty clothes on the floor. I snorted and stepped over, picking it up. "You really need a maid or something." I mumbled, walking out of the bedroom as I dialed Jill's home number.
"Good afternoon." John murmured, releasing a cluster of butterflies in my stomach.
I took a deep breath, then sighed. "Hey," I whispered, fidgeting slightly. "I'm not going to be able to make it today; something came up."
"Don't worry about it. Jill is usually at the clinic from eight to five every day, so feel free to drop it off any time you like." He fell silent for a moment, then added, "Actually, it might be best if you still call first. Just to make sure I'm here."
I nodded, then realized he couldn't see me. "Yeah, okay. Sounds good." I jumped as Mark suddenly came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist.
"Done yet?" he whispered, his lips pressed to my ear. I shivered slightly and elbowed him gently in the side, mouthing for him to go lay back down. He nuzzled his nose against my neck, then stumbled back to the bed.
John cleared his throat. "Lily?"
"Uh, yeah?" I mumbled, motioning for Mark to stay put.
"Was that all?"
I chewed on my bottom lip a moment, then nodded. "Er, yeah. Yeah, that was all. I'll talk to you later, okay?"
"Alright Lily, sweet dreams."
"You too." I sighed and hung up the phone. Tossing it back on the pile of dirty clothes, I quickly climbed back into bed with Mark and pulled the covers up over us both. "No funny business, just sleep, right?" He smiled and nodded, cuddling close. I sighed, resting my head back on his chest and closing my eyes. I had to admit, this was nice; there were no worries with Mark. We were both single, mature adults. And that was how relationships started, right? Mature, single, consenting adults found love in one another all the time. Why did everything in my life always have to be so damn complicated? Because I always had to make it complicated, that's why. This, with Mark, could be easy. It could be simple and beautiful and just about as wonderful as anything I could ever imagine... If only I could get John out of my head.
------
The next morning, I awoke the aroma of strong coffee and the sounds of running water. Mark must be taking a shower. I stretched a bit and rolled over to find he was indeed missing from the bed, then opened my eyes and blinked in confusion. It was still dark outside, what the hell? I groaned as I rolled out of the bed and stretched again; yawning, I stumbled through the dark and made my way to the kitchen, just as the coffee maker beeped telling me it was finished. Flicking the kitchen light on, I glanced to the clock and saw it was only a little after three AM. I raised a brow and poured myself a cup of coffee, then stole a Marlboro from the pack on the counter. Lighting it, I took a puff and moved to lean against the bathroom door. "Mark?" I called, taking a sip of my coffee.
"Oh, hey Lily." he replied, his voice hardly audible over the running water. 'He must be embarrassed.' I thought, frowning some. I heard him turn the water off, then step out of the shower. A few moments later, the bathroom door swung open. Instantly, I slapped a hand over my eyes. He chuckled halfheartedly and shoved my hand away from my face, "I'm wearing a towel, chill out."
Opening my eyes, I smirked and took a sip of my coffee, then a puff of the cigarette. "Never know, with you." I murmured.
He blushed, seriously blushed, shook his head, then slipped past me and meandered his way to the kitchen. I sighed and followed after, leaning against the counter so I could tap my ashes into the sink. After pouring a cup of coffee, lighting a cigarette and indulging a bit in both vices, he spoke once more. "I'm really sorry about last night. I was just so worried about you; you weren't answering my calls, you weren't answering the door... You look like hell, Lily. I'm sorry to say it, but you do. Look at those fucking bags under your eyes." He leaned forward and brushed his index finger under my right eye. "Have you even been eating?"
I slapped his hand away and turned to glare at the clock on the wall. "Yes, father, I have been eating-" Before I could continue, he suddenly grabbed my hand and wrenched me towards him; placing the cigarette between his teeth, he shoved my sleeve up and held me there with both hands, staring at the row of wounds I'd inflicted upon myself.
I shut my eyes and attempted to tug my arm away, but he kept a firm grip and forced me to stay put. "You've been cutting yourself?" he murmured, though it sounded like more of an accusation than a question. I huffed and rolled my eyes, relaxing some; there was no point in struggling, he'd seen them already. Removing one hand from my arm, he took a long drag of his cigarette, then flicked it into the sink and grabbed my chin. "Lily, this isn't healthy."
"Oh, fuck off." I snapped, slamming my coffee cup onto the counter. I dug my fingernails into his hand and yanked my arm free. "Who the hell do you think you are? Mister 'I'm gonna drink an entire bottle of Jack, then try to rape my best friend'. You're no better than I am, so lay off the 'holier than thou' bullshit." He opened his mouth to retort, but I just kept screaming at him. "And what the fuck was with you telling me you loved me last night, huh? I mean, I know you were drunk, but that was ridiculous. We both know damn well that I'm just your sister's replacement. You just think you love me because I'm all you've got. You don't really love me, you just [i]need[/i] me. But let's face it, sweetheart, I'm not your sister. And I never will be." Oh god, this was bad. I knew I should stop, but I couldn't. "[i]Furthermore[/i]," I spat, taking a small step back while pointing a shaky finger at his awestruck face. "Your sister has been dead for over a fucking year, get over it already!"
The instant the words left my mouth, regret and guilt hit me like a ton of bricks. He had this look I could only describe as complete horror on his face. Tears were welling in his eyes, his hands in tight, shaking fists, but he didn't say a word. Not a single fucking word. I covered my face with my hands, inwardly cursing myself for being such an idiot. This wasn't going to end well, but what's the worst that could happen? Suddenly, Mark stepped forward and grabbed me, digging his fingers painfully into my shoulders. He shook me, hard, and I tugged my hands away from my face; he opened his mouth to speak, then apparently decided against it and slammed me backwards, into the wall. "Okay, I deserved that," I mumbled, stumbling to my feet and wincing some. Before I could manage to get out an apology, he slapped me clear across the face, sending me flying to the floor.
For a fraction of a second, I could swear my jaw was dislocated. I brought a hand up to my cheek and wiggled my jaw around slightly. It wasn't, but it hurt like a bitch and blood was rapidly pooling in my mouth. He'd slapped me so hard that the inside of my cheek was split open. I cringed as he stepped towards me and stood at my side, looming over me as I winced in pain, blood trickling from my lips. Looking up at him, I could see that he was just as shocked at what he did as I was, but he didn't apologize. "Get out," he whispered, his voice dangerously low. "I never want to see you again, get the fuck out!" He bent down and grabbed my arm, yanking me to my feet, then shoved me towards the living room. I stumbled forward, trying to catch my footing, then fell to the floor in a heap. I almost started to cry, but I forced myself not to. After what I'd said, I deserved this. "And for your information, Miss know-it-all, I did honestly love you. I'm not a child, Lily, I know damn well what love is, so don't try that 'you don't know what you're talking about' crap again."
I carefully tugged myself to my feet, wiped the blood from my mouth and stood there in silence, just staring at him. Why did it hurt so much that he'd used the past tense there? I had this sudden, stabbing pain in my chest. Taking a step towards him, I wiped another stream of blood from my chin and opened my mouth to speak, but I couldn't find the words. I had this overwhelming urge to kiss him then; to drop to my knees, beg for forgiveness, then jump up and kiss him. Deciding to skip that first part, I threw my arms around him and pressed my mouth to his, kissing him tenderly on the lips as tears streamed down my cheeks. "I'm so sorry," I breathed, pulling away momentarily. "I didn't mean it, I was just upset and scared and..." I stopped myself and kissed him again, wrapping my arms tight around him. 'Please, please let him forgive me.' I thought desperately. I didn't know exactly why I was doing this, or why I wanted so badly for him to say he still loved me, but I was and I did. I really, truly did.
The instant my lips touched his again, he bent down and returned the kiss; as he wrapped his arms tight around my waist, I melted against him. For a fleeting moment, I thought he'd forgiven me. Oh, how annoyingly wrong I was. Mark broke the kiss suddenly and shoved me back, holding me by the shoulders at arm's length. "I meant what I said, Lily, get out." he whispered. Letting go of me, he slapped a few tears away from his cheeks and glared at me. "I'm too tired to deal with this shit. I love you, Lily, I really do, but you've got some issues to work out and I'm not prepared to hold your hand and guide you along." He shoved past me and unlocked the door, opening it for me. "You're a big girl, I'm sure you'll get through it. Now go." Dumbfounded, I turned in silence and slowly moved through the door. "Don't forget your dress," he added, snatching the plastic-covered gown off the couch and handing it to me.
"Oh, yeah, right." I whispered, finding it hard to breathe for some reason. Making sure not to look him in the eyes, I took the gown and shuffled off to my own apartment without another word.
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I skipped work for the rest of the week; it was only two days, but with my mopey behavior during the past few weeks, my coworkers were bound to be worried. I didn't care. From the moment I entered my apartment, the only thing I cared about was that bottle of whiskey on the kitchen counter. All I did for the past forty-eight hours was drink, cry, and sleep. As I lay in bed, my eyes red and scratchy from near-constant sobbing, my cheeks stained with tears, the phone rang. "I'll bet it's Suzie." I mumbled aloud, rolling over and covering my head with a pillow.
Beep. You've reached Lily's phone - You know what to do.
"Lily, it's Suzie. You know, from work?" I snorted and rolled my eyes; did she really think I wouldn't recognize my own boss? "You probably knew that... Uh, anyway, the gang and I are really worried about you, sweetie." Ugh, sweetie. I always hated her calling me that. Or any pet name, for that matter. She was barely three years older than me and treated me like a twelve year old.
"Bitch." I grumbled, flipping off the phone as I rolled myself out of bed. I fell onto the carpet, mumbled a few obscenities, then clambered to my feet and stumbled to the kitchen.
"Well, I guess you're not home or something. I hope you're at least out having fun; you really need it, you workaholic, you." Suzie continued with a laugh. That same, stupid, fake laugh she always used. I wanted to kill her. "Aaaaanywhoodles," Ugh, 'anywhoodles'? You have got to be kidding me. "I'm gonna give your sister a ring-a-ling, just in case. Hope we get to see you on Monday! The office just isn't the same without you. Kisses!"
Great. It was noon, I was trashed, and now I really wanted to vomit. Sloppily pouring the very last of the whiskey into a coffee mug, I downed it in a few gulps and sauntered my way back to the bedroom; just as I passed the phone, it rang again. "Fuckin' a, man. Leave me alone..." I moaned, the ringing driving me up the wall. Backtracking, I grabbed the entire device and ripped it out of the wall, then hurled it across the room. "Problem.. solved." I snickered and continued on my way.
Somehow managing to trip over my own two feet, I fell into the stereo by the wall and fell to the floor. "Ooh, tunes." Clinging to the couch, I pulled myself up and started pressing buttons on the damn thing, trying to remember how it worked. After about five minutes of nothing, I finally discovered there was no CD in it. Grabbing a disk at random, I stuffed it into the machine and cranked up the volume.
'JUST A SMALL TOWN GIRL, LIVIN' IN A LONELY WOOOOOOORLD.' Suddenly came blaring from the speakers.
"Gotta love Steve Perry." I then proceeded to drunkenly dance around my living room, singing at the top of my lungs. Poorly, I had to admit, but I could really care less. "Street lights, people. Livin' something... something... Somewhere in the niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight!"
The next song on the CD was 'Open Arms', which caused my alcohol-induced happiness to quickly disappear. With a sharp little turn, I collapsed to the floor and leaned back against the couch to listen in silence. Flashes of recent events flooded into my mind, bringing tears to my eyes. "Fuck this," I mumbled, suddenly coming to a decision that, had I been sober, probably would have been dismissed as quickly as it'd come to me. Well, maybe.
I didn't even bother to stand up this time; instead, I crawled across the room and found the discarded box cutter on the floor. Leaning back against the wall, shaking and crying, I shoved the blade into my wrist without a second thought and yanked it down, making a clean line through the row of tiny scars. Blood quickly began to gush from the wound, spilling over my arm and onto the carpet. Dropping the blade, I canted my head and just stared. I knew it should hurt. I should be screaming and crying for help, but I was just... numb. I suddenly felt more relaxed than I'd ever been in almost two months. All the drama, all the hurt and worry, it all seemed to slip away with the red liquid oozing from my steadily paling arm. Any moment now, it'd be over. Any moment now...
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