Chapter 4 – Hard To Swallow

'We were close but still so far, we grew apart and out of touch,

All I wanted was... all I wanted was to say...'

My breathing hitched. I could feel his warm breath tickling my cheek and all I could think about was how much I wanted him to kiss me, to hold me, to love me. My eyes fluttered shut. He was so close. I leant up slightly-

"Fuck you!" a loud drunken cry shattered the moment and we broke apart, "you twat, you absolute ass monkey, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!"

Over inner-me's cries of utter woe and unreleased sexual frustration, the blast of very creative profanities continued. Abi was stood outside, in her glorious perfection, hurling insults at Josh and shoving at his chest with all her might, before stumbling in her too-high-for-the-drunken-antics-she-was-engaging-in heels and collapsing in a flood of incessant drunken sobs into his arms. Abi was a notorious emotional drunk but even so; this was extremely bad.

I glanced towards Dan and saw him already looking, eyes burning. Oh. So I'm not the only one with built up issues. I closed my eyes and with effort turned away.

Sobriety hit me like a herd of stampeding T-Rexes when I saw the real state of Abigail Halliday, draped on Josh like a backwards cape. Josh's face was the picture of confusion mingled with a dash of what-the-foreboding-albatross-just-happened. I couldn't help but feel sorry for him. Girl behaviour is a notoriously complex subject. A girl could come up to you, kiss you passionately, then laugh with you, then at you, then slap you and run off crying, all without you saying a word. I mean, girls haven't even figured out girls yet.

I strode outside trying to toss (wrong word, wrong image, no stop) an idea of Dan actually wanting to be with me out of my head so I could deal with the immense problem at hand.

I peeled Abi off of Josh and she turned and clung to me muttering something about a 'pooping glass soul.' Josh thanked me silently and stood awkwardly for a few seconds before I rolled my eyes and sent him willingly inside. I patted her on the back, waiting until her sobs had subsided before my inquisition began. Behind me the party blared on obliviously.

"S-s-sorry about thi-i-s Dee," she sobbed, "we were ju-u-st talking, we-e-ell flirting and I was telling him all a-about how much I liked hi-im like the i-i-diot I am. It wa-as all romantic and then he mentioned tha-at he had a- a- a- da-ate with Poppy the prostitute next week and I-I could feel my heart just break," her voice, usually so confident, shattered. I felt a hellish rage flood my system. What did he think he was doing?!

"Well, he's just an arsehole Abs, a twattish arsehole that was obviously blinded by the all the fake tan the walking wotsit Poptart wears. Don't fret child, he will rue the day he ever decided to court a day from her. Trust me."

"You think so?" her raccoon-esque blue eyes were wide and filled with a drunken naivety.

"Mmhmm," I murmured, rubbing her back as she sniffled.

The party was over for us, I knew that. There was no way Abi could stay at Josh's after that; she was heart-broken. And what kind of best friend would I be if I abandoned her to an America's Next Top Model marathon and a feast of chocolate and Ben & Jerry's ice-cream alone.

We headed back inside where I made the apologies and farewells on behalf of us both, purposefully keeping my gaze as far from the blonde menace as possible. Josh obviously didn't think I noticed him hiding behind the curtain in fear of my wrath. Oh, he'd get what was coming to him. He can rest assured on that.

The boys followed us into the hall by the front door, their faces solemn. Feeling kind of bad – I mean, I am the party so thereby me leaving meant the party was over – I called a taxi and endured the awkward 'We've Said Our Goodbyes But We Can't Leave Yet' period until it arrived, all the while trying to keep an on-the-brink-of-another-meltdown-right-after-I-just-calmed-her-down Abi from crying – all while half-sober. What can I say; I'm talented.

From inside my bag my phone suddenly started blaring Scar's song from Lion King. Every eye turned towards me inquisitively; no words were needed to comprehend what they wanted to know. I smiled sarcastically.

Turning away from them and pulling out my phone without checking the number I spoke.

"Howdy-doo Daisy's phone, Daisy speaking," I said.

"Hey Dee, baby," the voice from hell replied.

My eyes widened and I froze for only a second before smashing the end call button and tossing my phone back into my bag like it was some sort of poisonous snake. I clenched my fists to stop my hands from trembling. I hastily shoved as many happy thoughts as possible into my head so when I turned back around the guys would think nothing was wrong. They didn't need to worry about any of my shit. 'Puppies, a mountain of chocolate, a sea of skittles, free wifi.'

I swivelled around and smiled what I thought was convincingly.

"Who was that D-meister?" asked Matt curiously.

"Oh," I replied, laughing shakily and waving my hand in a dismissive gesture, "just a 0800 number."

Everyone shrugged and went along with it – I suspect the alcohol helped a lot to blind them from my obvious lie. Except Dan; he frowned at me as if trying to work something out. I quickly averted my eyes.

In the taxi ride home, I faced the horror that had just occurred.

Scott had my number again.

Author's Note: Sorry it's so short, it's more of a filler chapter if I'm honest