I have a theory that the more you fixate on something you want to happen, the more you will it to happen, the more likely it is to never happen. I also passionately believe that bad things come in threes. Yes, granted, scientists and psychologists much smarter than I am will tell you that, no, this is absolutely not the case and it is in fact the human mind and its sheer will to create some semblance of order from disorder that strikes the pattern, but the events that built up to that day were unqualified proof of that theory being correct.
As I sat on the floor of the bathroom stall in the men's room, one false breath away from hyperventilating, I couldn't help but look back, like a glutton for punishment, at the three Bad Things that had led me to this lowest of low points.
The first Bad Thing had come a year ago, when Sebastian had showed up at my door with a six pack of beer after a phone call explaining he had something Very Important to tell me and he was on his way to my apartment. My heart had skipped more than just a beat. It had practically leapt out of my mouth. I'd almost broken my neck dodging the large lump of cat circling my feet to scramble off the sofa (where I'd been lying in a heap since getting home from work some hours beforehand) to change out of my toothpaste stained pyjama top and leggings and top up my makeup. I'd raked my hair out of the high bun it had been in since that morning and attempted to make it passable for any kind of style. It hung loosely down my back, curling slightly at the dark auburn ends. It would have to do.
Half an hour later, after a quick pep talk and a squirt of the perfume he'd bought me for my last birthday, I'd opened the door to greet him. He was the picture of my perfect. Dark, thick and slightly curled hair; eyes the colour of the ocean during a storm; all hard lines and angles.
We'd been best friends since kindergarten and for the longest time it had been an entirely platonic relationship. I'd even joked more than once that kissing him would be like kissing my brother, which was an image I was extremely eager to avoid. In high school, people had joked that we were secretly hooking up behind the bleachers every lunch period, and there was some truth to it, but we were usually found playing the newest Pokémon game on our Nintendo 3DS' like we were still kids. The only thing we were concerned with sharing were shinies and trade evolutions. I'd had absolutely zero interest in sharing saliva with the punk kid I'd watched pick his nose more times than I could count.
He'd liked me long before I'd even realised I liked him in a way that was decidedly not platonic; he'd told me so one night the summer after we'd graduated from high school. I'd just split up with my boyfriend of two years after finding out he'd been cheating on me with a cheerleader who, my self-sabotaging brain constantly reminded me, could certainly bend in much more interesting ways than me. Ironically, I'd found them together behind the bleachers on graduation day. Go figure.
Sebastian and I had gone on a road trip to a beach in New Hampshire and had split off from the main group for a bit. We sat on a weather worn log, staring out at the ocean as the sun began to dip below the horizon. I was wearing the same grimace I'd had on my face for two weeks since the start of the summer, twirling a strand of hair around an unkept finger.
"Right, I've had enough of this now," he had announced matter-of-factly after a long stretch of silence. I glanced at him, an eyebrow raised.
"You're not this person. Crack a damn smile, Fray. Tell a damn joke. Let it go." He stared straight into my eyes like he was challenging me. I blinked before flashing him a mock smile. He snorted, nudging me with his shoulder.
"You look horrible."
"Gee, thanks dude." I said, my tone dripping with sarcasm. I made to stand up, but he grabbed my hand firmly and pulled me back down to sit next to him, wrapping an arm tightly around my shoulders. He was warm, and his familiar smell of soap and cedarwood swam around me. I felt the overwhelming desire to cry.
"You're a thousand times better than that asshole. Don't even give him a second thought." He said forcefully, squeezing my shoulders. I shuddered with the effort of keeping my tears from falling.
"What's wrong with me? Am I boring? Not pretty enough? It can't just be because I can't bend myself into a fucking pretzel, can it?" I bit with frustration, "I have never felt uglier in my entire life."
Sebastian stood up suddenly and came to crouch in front of me, grabbing my face with hands more tender that I would have expected. I avoided his eyes, embarrassed, as he wiped away a stray tear with his thumb and shook his head angrily.
"Screw him, you're the most beautiful girl in the world Clary. I've never seen or met anyone like you. You're phenomenal." There was an urgency in his voice that made me look up and meet his gaze, and his breath caught in shock as he swallowed.
"You really mean that?" I asked, tears pricking at my eyes again. My heart hammered loudly in my chest, my brain struggling to keep up with the meaning of its throbbing and the gooseflesh on my arms. He didn't answer; instead, he slowly, tentatively closed the gap between our faces and oh so lightly brushed his lips against mine.
"I've loved you for as long as I can remember," he had whispered afterwards.
And that was the start of what I would later brad The Love of my Life. For the rest of the summer we were stuck together, at least one part of us always touching the other but never anything more, until the time came for us to head off to college. We were studying in separate states, me staying in New York and him moving to Florida, but that wouldn't stop us from seeing each other whenever we could, every holiday – we promised. We'd been friends for too long, and something was starting that I didn't want to end. Not an official something, but something, nonetheless.
But things did gradually change, as things do, and the goofy Sebastian I once knew was suddenly becoming the cool guy Sebastian that was still my best friend inside, but not the guy I'd waved goodbye to at the airport. We still talked most days, but gradually the conversations got shorter. He seemed to be hurtling forwards at a thousand miles per hour but I was still cruising along at fifty.
Then, fast forward to the last term of our final year at college, to the first phone call from him in about a month; excitedly telling me he was going to be moving to New York after graduation. He'd got a job offer at a digital marketing firm his dad's friend owned, he was going to be here in a few weeks to look for somewhere to rent, we should totally hook up.
And hook up we did. After one, three, five too many drinks, a rather awful stint of karaoke in an Irish bar, and who knows how many tequila slammers later, we collapsed through the door of my dorm room, and our hands didn't leave each other until the next morning.
And it was there I found myself, a few months later, with Sebastian at my apartment door, clutching that six pack.
"Hey, you," I greeted him with an easy smile that I'd practiced meticulously in the mirror as he bent his head swiftly to drop a kiss on my cheek.
"Hi," he grinned, passing the cans to me after pulling one out of the plastic for himself. I felt my face starting to blush. We looked at each other for just a beat too long before I blinked and came back to earth.
"Coming in?" I beckoned him through the door and led the way to the sofa. He was practically buzzing, the air around him cracking with electric energy. I bounced on the balls of my feet nervously and gestured for him to take a seat.
"I'll put the rest of these in the fridge, you sit down." I said. I couldn't help but notice that he was wearing one of the shirts I'd picked out for him for Christmas. Another blush.
"Hurry back!" he called and hurry I did. I dropped the rest of the cans into fridge and had to remind myself not to run back into the living room. I thanked my lucky stars that my roommates were out tonight at some fancy bar opening. Isabelle and Maia had begged me to come along, but I'd been expecting him to call, and made my excuses. He looked so at home in my apartment, the way he'd always looked at home in my house since we were kids. Church, the bad-tempered grey cat I'd almost unceremoniously murdered in my haste to clean up earlier, had slinked his way into the living room and was happily curling up on his knee when I returned. I felt a ridiculous rush of jealousy for a moment before sitting on the couch next to him; church sat on no one, not even Isabelle. Sebastian raised his eyebrows at my frown and with a coy smile, we both pulled the tabs on our cans at the same time and he brought it up to touch mine.
"So, to what do I owe this pleasure? You said you had something important to tell me?" I said in what I hoped to be a breezy manner after taking a long drink. My foot was bouncing subconsciously even when I was sat down, so I placed my hand on my knee to keep it still. I couldn't help but feel like this was it. After all these years of dancing around each other, growing apart then coming together again, this was the moment. We were both back in the same place, going at the same pace. Together. And I realised with a painful pang how much I wanted us to be together, together.
He looked nervous but alight with energy. He took another swig of his beer and ran a hand through his hair without meeting my eyes, a habit I knew very well meant he was considering how to phrase something. He still didn't respond.
"Seb, come on. I'm on the edge of my seat here. What do you need to say?" I said with badly disguised nerves of my own. He gave me a small smile and quickly took my hand, drawing lazy circles across my skin with his thumb. My skin reacted instantly, gooseflesh rising on my arms.
"I've wanted to tell you for so long. Now it's happening I don't really know how to say it without sounding lame as hell." He laughed nervously.
Thump. Thump. Thump. My heart was pounding like one of those huge drums in a marching band.
"Seb, you can tell me anything. Go on." I encouraged him. He took a deep breath. This was it.
"I found someone. We're actually living together. I really want you to meet her, you'll love her Clary." He said with the biggest, most sincere smile I've ever seen. A smile I'd never seen for me. Not with the same distant expression, full of adoration. Not with the same crinkle in his eye or small secret smile.
It was like the air had been knocked out of my lungs. All I could hear was white noise. Girlfriend? Since when? Who was she?
What about me?
Sebastian was still talking, I heard words every now and again through the rush of blood in my ears as my heart truly broke for the first time. Lucy, amazing, beautiful, love. I felt sick to my stomach. I placed my can of beer on the small table by the sofa, feeling woozy.
"How long have you been seeing her?" I asked quietly, interrupting him mid-sentence.
"Um… start of final year," he said, casting his mind back. He still had the most serene smile on his face, "We've been a bit on again off again. Properly got together like officially when I got back from New York a few months ago."
I was dangerously close to being sick.
"You mean… after you slept with me right?" I stood up, turning my gaze to him. His face fell slightly, his brown knit in confusion. I knew he'd be able to see it on my face. The look of total heartbreak.
"We weren't together then, Clary." He said, his tone measured, and I wasn't sure if he meant me and him, or him and her. I took another step back. On queue, Church decided he'd had enough of sitting on Sebastian's knee and dug his claws in to dive from his lap.
"No, but you told me you wanted to be with me when you moved here. Remember?"
He stood up slowly, hands raised.
"Clary… I meant as friends, I- I can see why you might have been confused-"
"Confused!" I scoffed, a slightly hysterical note in my voice, "I'm more than confused. I feel utterly stupid. I waited for you, while you've probably not given two shits about me since we were eighteen! I could have handled it if that part of us drifted, Seb, I really could, but then you tell me you love me on every phone call, you came here and slept with me and now I'm the stupid little girl who managed to keep catching feelings when it was just a bit of fun for you while you sorted your shit out with your on again, off again girlfriend I never knew about. I'm super glad that's the weight of your respect for me but let me tell you it's nowhere near as low as my respect for myself right now."
"Clary," he started, panic clearly rising in his voice, "that's not what that was. I did love you-"
"Past tense noted. That's enough for tonight, Seb. I'm incredibly happy for you. You can see yourself out." I finished icily, pointing him towards the front door and walking out of the living room, closing the door to my bedroom firmly behind me. After a few minutes I heard the front door gently close behind him.
That night, Isabelle and Maia got home to find me choking on my tears on the floor in the bathroom and laid with me in bed until I managed to fall asleep some time close to dawn.
The second Bad Thing came five months later, on a freezing morning at the end of January. The morning itself was as unassuming as any, until I opened the mailbox in the lobby of the apartment building to find a heavy, cream envelope addressed to me. I opened it with curiosity, wondering if it was another little something my mom had painted, but dropped it almost immediately as if it were made of hot coals as soon as I caught a glimpse of what it read.
You are cordially invited to the wedding of
Lucy Vargas
and
Sebastian Verlac
Saturday, August 8th 2020
I spent another night crying myself into oblivion while Izzy and Maia spoon-fed me Ben and Jerry's ice cream and trash talked him until, for the second time, I cried so much I fell asleep on my bed, huddled between them like a small child. This time, even Church took pity on me and curled up on the duvet at my feet.
Although Sebastian and I had somehow remained something like friends since the night he came to my apartment, it had been strained, and we never talked about the things we'd said. Every time we met up, or I saw him with Lucy, it made me break just that little bit more, if that were even possible. I'd not just lost Seb, I felt like I'd lost my best friend and closest confidante in the process. Of course, he'd told Lucy all about our night together when he visited New York and although she was nice to me and smiled along if she ever had the misfortune to meet up with me, it didn't quite meet her eyes. She could see I was a wreck, still hopelessly in love with her fiancé. I was flattered to think she felt like I was even a minor threat to her.
Lucy was the kind of girl that turns heads when she walked by. She was glamourous, beautiful, pristine and as tall as the Empire State Building in comparison to my not so impressive stature of five-foot zilch. We were opposites in almost every way. Sebastian was lucky to have found someone as amazing as her. Real lucky, his friends told him.
Late one night after one too many Bud Lights I told Izzy about my cheating ex boyfriend in high school and made a bet that Lucy could probably bend like a pretzel in bed, just like the cheerleader.
The third Bad Thing was the wedding itself. The dreaded "I Do". The official line drawn. The third Bad Thing was the day that brought me to the unqualified proof that they do come in threes, and any scientist or psychologist who wanted to prove me otherwise could take me on in a fight.
Fuck the bad things and their threes.
I was brought out of my miserable reminiscing by a gentle knock on the stall door. The swift kick back to reality brought with it an unpleasant lurch of realisation. I was in the men's room. Crying. At my ex-best friend's wedding.
"Hey, you okay in there?" came a voice from the other side of the door. I closed my eyes tightly, holding my head in my hands. The misery was quickly being swallowed up by shame. I looked up at the ceiling, cursing inwardly.
"Yup, just peachy. All good in here, thanks!" I squeaked, grabbing a fistful of toilet paper from the dispenser and blotting my eyes quickly. I hear the person shuffle on the other side of the door.
"You sure? It sounded like there was a wounded animal slowly dying in here. Like a wild boar or something." His voice was teasing, but I could still hear the edge of concern underneath it. I worried at the corner of some toilet paper and let out a small laugh.
"Oh, that was just me practicing my animal impressions. They're a big hit at weddings."
The man chuckled. It was a nice sound, rich like honey.
"Are you doing rounds at the guest reception? I'm keen to hear more."
"Don't you mean boar?" I said in a feeble attempt at a joke. Surprisingly, he let out a short burst of a laugh.
"What's a nice boar like you doing in a place like this? You know this is the men's room, right?"
"Just thought I'd see the sights, take in the culture. I've heard the urinals are quite fine, this time of year." I pushed myself up off the floor and sat on the closed toilet lid, pulling out a small compact mirror from my purse. I groaned out loud at the sight of my face in the reflection and then burst in to a fit of hysterical giggles.
"What's happening?" the man asked, amusement clear in his voice now.
I sighed, "Hey, want to see something terrifying?"
"Consider my interest piqued," he responded.
I leaned forward and unlocked the cubicle door, letting it swing open to reveal the man on the other side. My mouth went dry.
He was gorgeous. Tall and lean, with a halo of blond hair surrounding his face, and amber eyes that I suspected would be almost golden if they could catch the light at just the right angle. I could feel my body reacting almost instantly, my cheeks blushing crimson to match my hair. He leaned casually against the door frame; hands tucked into the pockets of dark, tailored suit pants and one foot crossed over the other. There was a peek of what looked like an inky black tattoo creeping out from the collar of the crisp white shirt he wore.
He took me in with a playful expression. I must have been a spectacular sight to behold; small woman sitting cross legged on the toilet in the men's room, makeup running halfway to hell with black eyeliner smudged across my nose. I pushed the spaghetti strap of my emerald dress up and smiled bleakly.
"Ta-da, I'm the terrifying thing." I said as lightly as I could muster, braving to look into his eyes. The corners had creased slightly with worry as he took the sight of me in.
"I won't ask you to explain what's happened, not if you don't want to talk about it, but I can be a good listener if I'm feeling up to it. And, to confirm, I feel up to it." He said matter-of-factly. I shrugged.
"I think what I really want is to fix myself up and go get a stiff drink."
He considered this for a moment and gave a sharp nod, holding out his hand to pull me up and out of the cubicle with an encouraging smile.
"Present company included?" he asked? I considered it for a moment then took his hand.
"Why not. I'm Clary, by the way."
He threw another grin my way, "Nice to meet you Clary, I'm Jace."
Hello everyone, it's been a very long time since I've been on FF (my previous handle was MarineLullaby but sadly, that log in has long since gone the journey of email addresses past). I hope you like the first chapter of something that came to me in a moment of madness. R&R, let me know what you think!