The exam went well the next morning, given the fact that every few minutes I'd look at John Paul; blush, catch Sarah smiling at me and instantly feel ill. We had retired to the Dog for a few drinks to settle down after the over-usage of our brain matter, myself and John Paul constantly getting drinks for the girls while we remained sober.
The day after, I was lounging at home, trying to figure away to break up with Sarah without blowing my and John Paul's relationship out into the public eye and all I end up thinking is that she'll ask why and I'll mumble that I love someone else and she'll ask who and then I'll blush and stutter and look away and then she'll jump to a conclusion (the right one, knowing how badly I've treated her since John Paul came out and I got all jealous over the pillock known as Spike) and then she'll storm off, yelling all about how I'm a coward and gay and a closet case and a hypocrite. The only upside I can see is that John Paul will be there to comfort me as I cry out my fears and then we'll be together.
But then I think that he deserves more than our relationship to be outed by proxy of Sarah's anger and disbelief of what I tell her.
As I made a cup of tea the door to the flat opened and Sarah tottered in, all smiles and giggles as she held out a letter to me.
"Craig, you won't believe what came today!" She announced, practically skipping over to me as I grabbed another cup out and popped another tea bag into it, making her a cup.
"I got a job with Ripple!" She screeched, jumping up and down a number of times.
"What, that magazine that shows all those birds in nothing but their underwear?" I ask, failing to keep my distaste from being evident.
"They do do some tasteful stuff, Craig!" She complained, sitting at the kitchen table. I removed the tea bags and stirred in some sugar and added some milk. I placed her mug before her and joined her at the table, retrieving the aforementioned letter that she was offering up to be read by all and sundry.
"So you're off to London for a few days for a shoot?" I asked, reading the letter. All I could think of is that I can get a few days to think without any interruptions to think about what I can do with my current situation – which just led me to feel guilty about thinking that.
"Yeah, just two days… and I was thinking maybe you could come with me? Maybe make a dirty weekend out of it," She winked, giving me her 'come hither' eyes.
"Maybe… but I think I'll be working downstairs, need to start saving as much cash as I can, what with uni coming in a few months. But, maybe you could take Hannah or Nancy, make a girly weekend of it?" I said, placing the letter on the table as I took up my tea, now chilled a little, and drank a number of gulps.
"Oh… yeah, sure you'd probably be bored, waiting around all the time as I'm getting my picture taken!" She laughed, but I could still hear her disappointment loud and clear.
"Yeah, you know how I've got a short attention span!" I joked, adding to the lie. How can we survive this, I question myself, how can she not tell that I don't want to be with her?
The topic of her photo shoot dies down and we chat for another thirty minutes before she gets a call from Amy, and vanished from the flat, slamming the door behind her.
I cross my arms before me and rest my head on them, sighing at the discomfort still coursing through my system. I don't think I can drag this out any longer. I can't just let her hang on, believing that I want to be with her till the end of time. Even when we started dating, I always saw our relationship with a sell by date when I went off to Trinity.
I gave up my wallowing, dumping the undrank tea down the drain before I made my way down to the pub to start my shift.
I'd been behind the bar for all of five minutes when I'm instructed to head down stairs to get a crate of beer. Sighing at having to do manual labour already, I stomped my way down the stairs to the basement.
It's then that my phone beeps with a text:
Hey, on my way over to the pub, is it busy? We need to talk JPxxx
Worry splits through my stomach as I reply:
Quiet enough, just getting a crate of beer for the fridges, everything alright? Cx
It takes a moment for his reply to arrive and drop my phone repeatedly, trying to open up the new message:
I'll tell you when I get there. Love you xxx
Even with the worry churning my stomach, I still get a whoosh of excitement – John Paul loves me! – as I type out my reply:
Love you too, c you soon Cxx
I push my phone into my jeans pocket before retrieve a case and make my way to the bar.
I'm half way through the stocking up when he arrives, his sparkling blue eyes searching for me in the less-than-busy lounge. For a few seconds I just watched him before calling out his name.
I pop open a bottle and hold it out for him as he extracts his wallet from the pocket of his hoody.
"Don't bother, it's on the house," I instructed as I checked that the coast was clear. Feeling confident, I reached out and rested my hand atop of his, using my thumb to stroke his soft, soft skin.
"Can we sit in the corner? I've got news," he said, smiling at my attempt comfort him.
"Sure, just give me a few minutes to finish up here and I'll be right over," I explained, reluctantly taking my hand off his and grabbing a couple more bottles in both hands and moving to the next fridge.
I rushed to finish my task, finishing faster than I ever thought was possible, grabbed a beer for myself and told Darren that I was taking a break. I ignored his whiny voice, shouting at him that he could handle the four other customers on his own for ten minutes. I moved to the customer side of the bar and joined JP in a booth.
The table is covered in paper as he scratched the label off the bottle. I smiled at his nervousness as I sat in beside him. Resting my free hand on his leg beneath the table, I began stroking circles into his toned thigh as I asked what the major news was.
"I got in a big row with Spike at home. I told him that I was seeing someone else, and then I dumped him," he whispered, looking out the stained glass window to the patio.
I was short for breath as I asked what else happened, sensing that that wasn't the end to his story.
"I… I, em, I told him I was seeing you, Craig."
--
Time stood still. I could feel the dampness of the bottle's condensation spread between my fingers, hear Darren whistle some tune-less song, taste the bitterness of the hops still in my mouth, see John Paul wince anticipatorily to my oncoming reaction.
And, instead of the fear and life-destroying panic that I assumed would come if anyone ever found out about mine and John Paul's relationship, I felt relieved; relieved that Spike was out of our lives for good, that John Paul was finally mine and mine alone.
My only regret was that I hadn't had the same courage to end things with Sarah just and hour before hand. I couldn't fathom the depth of the feelings that swarmed my system as John Paul watched my every movement in trepidation.
I finally swallowed the beer, enjoying the coolness of it as it trickled down my throat. Smiling at him, I squeezed his leg reassuringly. I took another drink from my beer and then I exited the booth.
"Listen, I gotta get back to work, so I'll chat to you later," I stated, moving back to the bar and quickly asking Darren for anything to do. My back burned from the intensity of his stare as Darren instructed me to change a barrel – down the stairs I head once more.
I changed the barrel as slowly as was humanly possible as it was, using the peace and quiet of the room to think.
I should've expected John Paul to jump the gun and get his part of the job done, he was confident and knew what he wanted – me – and that Spike hated me and he would go out of his to destroy my life.
Okay, so I may have been over dramatising my current situation, because I really was just going round and round in circles in my head with this. And I suddenly realised that I'd been a total wanker to John.
So I was grateful when mum called down to me that Sarah was upstairs wanting to see me.
I grabbed a rag from atop another keg and cleaned off my hands. Then I climbed the stairs two at a time. I was set in my ways; I'd made a decision – time to rip off the band aid, I can't string her along anymore, thinking that we were going to last forever as a couple.
As I got to the bar, I glanced in the mirror above the till, noticing the look of determination that was set on my face. Shocked at my own will power, I had completely missed who Sarah was chatting to as she propped the bar.
"Hey, Craig! Working hard?" She asked, her arm linked with a muscled piece of flesh.
"Yeah, bored rigged with it thought," I replied, gaining a mighty interest in my trainers.
"Ah, isn't great to have a loving boyfriend who earns money to take his lovely girlfriend out on dates?" Sarah's companion commented, his words stained with sarcasm as he smirked at me.
"Spike," I nodded curtly, trying to hide my discomfort at his presence.
"Poor Spike here's got some news, Craig."
Oh crap, here it comes, I thought, daring a look at the pair of them. The hat on top of his head was jauntily placed at an angle as his eyebrows waggled at me pompously.
"Yeah?" I mumbled, wiping down the counter in an already spotless area.
"Yeah, I've had my heartbroken. John Paul's dumped me. Came as a total shock to me, I can tell you!" He chuckled, playing the poor broken routine all too well. Arrogant fuck.
"Yeah, John was round earlier, for a pick me up. Sorry to hear about it," I muttered, tossing the rag away before crossing my arms and watching him.
"Ah, water under the bridge mate! But I just can't think for a reason why, and it's been bugging me all day long."
Pompous prick.
"No idea… mate. Listen, Sarah, do you wanna come upstairs with me for a bit," I requested, ignoring the look on Spike's face that I couldn't quite decipher.
"You gonna be okay on your own, Spike? Don't wanna leave you alone when you're upset," Sarah asked him, staring up at him with caring, puppy dog eyes.
"I'll be fine Sarah. Might pop over to the SU – much better service, with much fitter bar men. Chat to ya later. Craig. See ya soon, Sarah."
He winked at me, and kissed Sarah on the cheek, and waved goodbye to the both of us. God, he boils my blood.
Sarah sighed sadly.
I grunted.
She led the way up to the flat, me following behind, fuming.
"So, what did you want to talk to me about? Change your mind about the dirty weekend?" She asked, twirling a loose strand of hair around her finger.
"I…, um… I… Do want something to drink?" I asked, moving around her to the refridgerator. I open it up and grab a can of cola.
"No thanks, Craig." She declined, watching me as I opened the can and gasped as the liquid fizzed over my fingers.
I placed the can on the counter, turned on the cold water and washed the sticky sugar-y mess off my hand.
I sighed, turned off the water, dried my hand with the wash cloth and took hold my drink.
"Craig, what's wrong?" she implored me to tell her. I started pacing, round and round the living room slash kitchen area.
"Craig, seriously, you're scaring me," She whispered, sitting up on the couch as I walked around her.
"Fucking bollocks," I mumbled, finishing my can and tossing it into the trash. I finally sat down on the armchair facing her at a right angle.
"Craig?" She whispered, sliding down the couch towards me, reaching out her hand to touch my knee.
I recoiled, she gasped.
"Craig?" Her voice was so low that I barely heard her. I gathered my wit about me, took several deep breaths and took the plunge.
"I think we should break up."
Her breath hitched, she grabbed at her chest, I thought I could hear her heart shatter, it seemed to echo around the flat.
No one spoke. The only noise was her grasping for breath as the tap I had failed to turn all the way round continued to drip.
Her eyes watered. I kept staring above the TV.
She attempted to speak, but it was like someone had stolen her voice as all that came out were shattering sobs. She tried again, and failed once more.
She got to her feet, clutching her chest still.
Her heels repeated as she stumbled down the stairs.
The door to the pub slammed open and creaked shut.
And all I was left with was the silence.
And the drip.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
--