Me? Still alive? More likely than you think.
Rikki wasn't a fan of awkward silences.
Not regular silence, mind you. Not the silence you want while studying for exams or trying to get some sleep at a way-to-late hour.
No. It was the awkward silences - the silence of a classroom when a teacher asks a question that nobody could answer. The silence of a father when he finds your missing report card after a bad semester. The silence of an ex-boyfriend who caught you sneaking out of his house after baring your drunken soul to him the night before.
Rikki shifted uncomfortably on the couch, running her fingers through her knotted hair. She could hear Zane shuffling around the kitchen, making what sounded like coffee.
There was nothing stopping her from bolting. She doubted he'd stop her, not now. Not after...
She closed her eyes.
She inhaled.
I'm fine. This is...fine.
Rikki wanted to puke. There was at no point in her life - not in the past four years - that she thought she would end up in this situation.
A moment passes, then another. Zane came back into the living room, cup in each hand, lips curved into a smile - if only slightly.
He looked...good. Now that sobriety was settling in and she was able to see him clearly, that is. He was...what, twenty- three now? And adult - an actual adult. One that works and pays taxes and owns a house, doing all the stuff that adults are supposed to do.
And damn, he looked great. Certainly still skinny, he always was. But she could see the muscle under the shirt that she didn't recognize from before. His brown hair was shorter than it used to be, but not too short - messy from sleep but somehow this made him even more attractive, in that 'I don't care' type of way.
God, was she yearning?
It had been way to long since she'd been with a man. It had been way too long since Rikki was this close to a man that wasn't old enough to be her father. Her heartbeat quickened, no matter how much she tried to control it.
She cried in front of this man. Drunk and lonely in a goddamn bathroom in a hotel that she didn't want to be at in the first place. Being this emotional...that was something she couldn't afford to be in high school.
Deflect.
Ignore.
Bury it deep.
It was the only way she knew on how to survive when it felt like the entire world was against you.
But...crying?
"Rikki?"
She blinked, shifting her attention back on Zane.
"Here." He placed the cup on the coffee table and sat next to her. Not too close, but close enough.
In and out. In and out.
It was definitely too warm in here. She swallowed, nails digging into her palms.
"I don't like coffee," she finally said, breaking the silence that fell over the room.
Zane raised an eyebrow, taking a sip out of his cup that he had been cradling in his hands.
"It's hot cocoa," he finally responded, putting his cup down next to her.
Oh.
Of course he would remember her affinity towards the sugary beverage.
"Thanks," she mumbled, grabbing for the cup. It only takes a couple of sips before the nausea in her stomach settles into something that could be considered comfortable. Or, at least comfortable enough.
It still didn't help the nerves. Rikki hoped her hands weren't shaking too bad, not in front of Zane. Never in front of Zane.
But her ex-boyfriend wasn't stupid, as much as Lewis would like to say otherwise. Zane's lackluster performance in high school wasn't the result of his mental capabilities - it was simply a lack of concern. Rich people could afford to not do well, given that their parents could set them up after graduation regardless of academic performance.
But no, Zane wasn't stupid. Rikki followed his gaze, which was focused intently on her own two hands, gripping the mug so tight it might break.
Breathe.
"Rikki," Zane started, voice lower than before. "Are you…"
"I'm fine," she cut in quickly.
Zane raised an eyebrow.
Another moment passes.
Dammit.
She exhaled slowly, taking another sip. "Okay. Maybe not….maybe not entirely fine." The last part comes out as more of a mumble. She swallowed thickly. "But I'm pretty sure you knew that already."
His eyes lock onto her own. He always had such pretty eyes, she thought. Like warm chocolate. It was so easy to get lost in them.
Far too easy.
"Do…you want to talk about it?"
She hated how sincere he sounded. There was nothing in his tone, nothing in his body movements that would suggest anything otherwise. He was practically radiating genuineness. It was honestly hard to believe this was the same man that she knew four years back. Adulthood can work wonders, sometimes.
"About what?" She swore her voice cracked when the words left her lips.
No, Zane. She didn't want to talk about it. She didn't do that - the whole 'talking about your problems' thing. What was there to talk about, anyways?
I got drunk and cried about my loneliness. But I swear aside from that I'm a totally well-adjusted person.
Zane let out a soft chuckle. "Figured you'd say that." He paused, pulling at the hem of his shirt - a tick clearly left over from high school. Maybe he was nervous was well.
Another long moment of silence. It felt…heavy in the air, thick and full of uncertainty. Rikki placed her cup back on the coffee table, rubbing at her eyes.
God, she was tired.
"Why did you want me to stay here, Zane?" she asked quietly, trying very hard not to make eye contact again.
She could hear him shift on the couch, ever so slightly. "I…" another pause. "It's been a while, Rik."
"Four years."
"A lot has changed."
"As what tends to happen with the passage of time," she replied drily, shifting her gaze back in his direction.
"Have you been…well, I mean…the others…"
Rikki bit her lip. "Cleo and Lewis are still in America. I imagine they'll be married soon. We talk usually once a week."
"Probably inventing the cure for cancer," Zane said weakly.
"Wouldn't put it past him." Rikki can't help but smile at the thought. If anyone could do it, it would be them. "Bella's in Ireland," she continued. "I think recording some songs for some music agency. I don't talk to her as much."
Zane hummed in response.
"Emma is…Emma. Went to Japan with her parents and decided to stay. Teaches English over there. Looks happy."
Rikki sniffled, remembering the afternoons spent scrolling Instagram and seeing all the pictures. Of happiness. Of fulfillment. It…sucks.
Zane reached over, squeezing her hand. Rikki flinches - only slightly - unused to the contact.
"But you aren't? Happy?"
"I…." she trailed off. "It's been so long…I…I forgot what being happy feels like."
She was happy with her friends. She was happy swimming in the water, hanging out in the moonpool. She was happy with him. Once upon a time. But adulthood came knocking on the door and made things that much more difficult.
And god did it suck.
"I know the feeling," Zane murmured beside her, eyes fixed on the wall as though he was looking at something only he could see.
Rikki tried hard not to roll her eyes. "I'd rather be miserable and rich then miserable and poor." A beat. "No offense."
"None taken."
He withdrew his hand from hers, leaning back on the couch. "My girlfriend won't talk to me," he said to nobody in particular.
"Zane…"
"Nah," he interrupted tiredly. "Before you say it, it's not your fault, Rik."
"But I…"
"She wasn't happy. Neither was I. Not in that relationship. A marriage of convenience would perhaps might be the most accurate term for whatever we had was." He rubbed at his temples. "I have more money than I know what to do with but can't maintain a relationship to save my life." Rikki could hear the frustration taint every word leaving his mouth. "I guess…I guess that's why I wanted you to stay. I just…." he sighed.
Rikki closed her eyes, trying to control her breathing.
"I missed you, Rik," he finally whispered. "Ever since that day….I fucked up. Badly. You had every right to leave. But…"
"Zane…"
"I just…just please let me finish. Just this once." His eyes were pleading. Rikki nodded.
"I thought I'd never see you again. And I tried…so hard to get over you. So hard. But you're not an easy person to get over."
Thanks?
"I never thought I'd see you again. Not in person, at least," he finished softly.
"Funny how life works out."
She wanted to cry again. Just being here. Just being next to him. This close proximity to the man she thought she was in love with at sixteen. She can't let herself be dragged into that rabbit hole, not again. She couldn't take another heartbreak. It's what it felt like these days, like she was teetering over the edge of a cliff, one wrong move and…
and….
and….
Zane's gaze is sharp enough to chop her in half. The intensity, the fire.
Rikki wants it. She wants it badly. And so does he. Dreadful silence hangs above them - beckoning to be broken - but never is.
She doesn't recognize at first the brush of his hand against hers. She doesn't recognize at first her own movements - slowly closing the gap between them, close enough to feel his body heat. Another hand brushing his cheek, the nape of the neck, breathing in the scent of whatever shampoo he washed his hair with this morning.
The feel of his lips, tantalizingly close….
And the doorbell.
A loud, shrill thing that cuts through the atmosphere like a knife. And with that, the spell was broken, reality hitting hard and fast - enough to knock her feet out from under her. Rikki felt like an idiot. Here she was, sitting on her ex's couch in clothes that weren't her own, more than willing to do what she swore she'd never do again. She could feel the flush in her cheeks as she scooted back.
Zane cleared his throat in embarrassment. "I'll…uh, get that," he said awkwardly, rising up from the couch.
Rikki nodded but can't find the will to speak, feeling almost lightheaded. Hating herself for missing his warmth, just seconds ago so achingly close to her.
She turned around to watch him approach the doorway, the view mostly unobstructed from the living room. He opened it and some girl barrels in, looking like a hot mess. Rikki craned her neck to see better, eventually deciding to leave the couch entirely for a better view. She was nosy, what about it?
The girl threw her arms around Zane's neck, squeezing it tight, and Rikki can't help but feel her stomach clench at the sight.
"Allison?" Zane asked, taking a step backwards as he tries to handle the sobbing girl clinging onto him like an overzealous koala.
Shit.
The girlfriend. He still has the girlfriend.
Mostly.
Probably.
Allison finally let go, wiping at her eyes. She looked…unkempt. Or at the very least, she hasn't washed the makeup off of her face since last night. She used one arm to steady herself again a pillar, breathing deeply.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry, Zane."
Rikki clenched her fist so hard she swore she was drawing blood.
Zane stared for a second before letting out a sigh. He ushered Allison further into the house, reaching out to shut the door.
"Well," he said, exhaustion evident in his voice. He swiveled around to meet Rikki's gaze from the living room - Allison eyes soon follow and harden considerably upon noticing the object of his attention.
"I guess we need to talk."