i n

F

BIGGER

SMALLER

COURIER

GEORGIA

TIMES

VERDANA

COMIC

l

RECENT

POPULAR

e

u

 ^{(it's beta!)}

It was a decent party, the music was alright and everyone seemed to be having a good time. Throngs of people were dotted about the house with people sitting on the stairs laughing and others dancing in the living room to the stereo. I stood and watched them for a while, leaning against the door frame. There was a lively atmosphere about the place, a sense of relaxed and care free adolescence. The girl whose house it was stood in the corner by the sink in the kitchen talking to a tall guy with big blue eyes, she giggled girlishly and raised her hand to her lips as he raised his arm to brush against her shoulder. I walked over to where they were standing and bent down to take a beer out the bucket of ice.

“Oh hey Paul!”

I smiled as I turned round to look at the girl who now had an arm wrapped gently round her waist

“Hey Chelsea, great party thanks for the invite.” I replied

“Any time Paul, its great to see you out again.”

Why do people keep saying that to me? “It’s great to see you out Paul!” or “Hey Paul you’re looking well!”

“You look really well by the way, been working out have we?” Chelsea said enthusiastically,

“No not really,” I did my best to keep the same smile on my face as I opened the beer and took a small sip. You’d think I’d survived cancer or something the way people were acting around me, all smiles and cheer, compliments and high fives. Not that I minded all that much, it’s just a bit weird.

“You could have fooled me!” Chelsea laughed as she took another large gulp of whatever she was drinking, the boy with the blue eyes wrapped his arm a little tighter round her waist.

“What have you been up to anyway?”

“Oh…nothing much really.” Well at least that was true “You know just getting down to some work” I said as I smiled nervously hoping she wouldn’t probe any further.

“Well you know what they say Paul, all work and no play!” she ginned madly and raised her glass above her head before downed the rest of her drink. I laughed a little and took another sip of my own drink. Chelsea turned round to Mr blue eyes and wrapped her arms round his neck

“C’mon I wanna dance” and dragged the very reluctant looking male away. Chelsea managed to spin round quickly as she stumbled into the other room and shout,

“Make sure you have a good time Paul! There’s more beer in the garage if you want.”

I simply smiled and nodded to her politely and leant back on the sink. This was okay. I feel okay. I am okay. There’s no need to be so worried about this kind of thing, things aren’t like they used to be. I started to relax, the smile on my face wasn’t so forced anymore and I could feel the tension draining from me as if someone had pulled out the plug and it was pouring down the drain. Whether that was because of the beer or not I didn’t know, nor did I care.

It was only then that I noticed the pretty brown haired girl stood in the doorway looking straight at me. She had wavy hair and a black dress on that stopped just above her knees.

She smiled at me.

I smiled back.

Her name was Sarah, and she had the bluest eyes that I had ever seen. We talked all night with drinks in our hands, smiling and laughing at each others stories. She was a year younger than me and went to the near by high school with her friend Christi who had abandoned her alone at the party while she "Chased after some stupid boy.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll talk to you for a while” I replied.

She smiled. I like it when she smiles.

“I think I’d like that very much”

So we sat outside away from the music and the now a bit more than tipsy guests and talked quietly to each other as the moon shined brightly in the sky and the trees played shadow puppets on the patio floor.

“So what’s the big mystery then?” she said playfully

“What do you mean?”

I cradled my now empty beer can in my hands and leant forward with my elbows lying flat on my knees as she hugged her ankles and poked her toes under my thigh to keep warm.

“You’ve not said anything about yourself all night.”

I shrugged a bit,

“Not that much to know I guess.”

She didn’t seem very satisfied with that answer but didn’t press any further. And then she looked at me, really looked at me. She looked at me in a way that no one ever had before, she seemed to be peering into my very core, peeling back the layer upon layer of armour that for my whole life I have been so good at keeping up. I couldn’t hold her stare, but I couldn’t look away either, so I just say there, totally limp with my eyes locked tightly to hers.

“What are you afraid of Paul?”

“What?” I stuttered clumsily

“What are you afraid of? There must be something.” She smiled gently as if the question held no meaning at all. The meaning for me however was somewhat more important; it meant owning up to the demons that had been quietly growing in the back of my mind for the past five months now. It meant facing facts. It meant having no way back.

I swallowed and for the first time looked at her properly. I looked at her in the way that she looked at me.

“I’m afraid of falling again.”

Her reply was simple.

“C’mon Paul, lets dance”

She stood up, brushed down her dress and made her way inside as if I had said nothing at all.

She walked across the garden and then the patio not looking back until she got to the glass sliding doors.

"Well?"

I just sat there, slightly confused about what just happened. This was all a bit new to me. I usually left meeting up and dancing with beautiful girls to the guys with flashy cars and jewellery.

"C'mon what are you waiting for?"

"Nothing I'm..."

Well what was I waiting for? I stood up awkwardly and made my way across the grass. Sarah stood waiting for me stood in the glass doorway smiling gleefully

"Ready then?" she held out her hand and beckoned me to come closer

"As I'll ever be." I took her hand, it was warm and I really didn't want to let go

"Don't be nervous this'll be fun, I promise"

And with that she turned on her heel and strode confidently through the kitchen and dining room to the living room towing me behind.

By now everyone else was bopping up and down in a drunken frenzy in the centre if the living room. Furniture had been pushed up against the wall to make more room for a dance floor and a large old fashioned music system which was blasting out a mixed CD. Sarah dragged me into the centre of the floor squeezing past entwined couples who didn't seem to notice all that much. Sarah smiled at me and moved a little closer towards me,

"Relax" she mouthed to me as she took my wrists and placed them on her waist. I let them lay there softly not sure of whether to grip her a little tighter or move them up slightly. She moved her hands from my wrists and slowly traced them up my arms, her fingers were cool this time and tickled me slightly. She let her forearms rest on my shoulders and let her wrists go limp and hang over my back. She moved a little closer to me again and started to shift slowly to the music, I was just glad it wasn't a fast song. I started to grow a little more confident and linked my hands behind her back,

"You're a good dancer" she said having to lean a little closer so I could hear her over the music.

"Thanks but I know your lying" I smiled and she laughed a little.

We moved together in harmony to the music as she moved her hands to play with my hair a little, and all the time we stared into each others eyes, not really able to say anything but at the same time speaking to each other as we had been doing all night.

And that's when she finally broke the silent conversation and pressed her lips to mine. They were cracked but still soft and pleasant. I moved my hands up her back and pulled her closer. I just couldn't hold my words back.

"I'm sorry, but I don't love you."

She smiled,

"I know, I don't care."

And then she kissed me again.

I don't know how long we kept dancing for, it seemed like hours. We clung to each to each other desperately, as if we were both the last two people on earth. She had her head nestled on my shoulder with her eyes closed while I stood there holding on, not really knowing what to do.

"This is okay, you know?" a soft voice whispered next to my ear "There's no need to be so afraid, I know what she did to you."

And suddenly I couldn't breath. I turned to ice. My whole frame stiffened and I gripped the back of her dress tightly in my fist and I clenched my eyes shut.

"You knew?"

"Of course."

"How?" my voice was shaky, a large lump had formed in my throat and I swallowed hard to try and be rid of it.

"How did you know?" I repeated with some force.

"It wasn't hard Paul," she whispered in reply "You're not as mysterious and complex as you think."

"What do you know!" I was angry now, and I wasn't sure why. I couldn't be angry with her, how could I be angry with her? What had she done wrong? She's told me the truth that I was too blind and hung up to see. But that didn't matter, I was still angry. I wanted to be rid of her, tell her to leave and never come back, but I didn't. I just stood there stiff and brittle as she clung desperately to my tormented body.

"You'd be surprised Paul, I know a lot more than you think. Have you still not noticed him?"

"Noticed who?" I was confused, what is she talking about?

"He's standing by the stereo" Her arm gripped mine almost in fear as she spoke. I turned my head towards the stereo on my left. Mr blue eyes stood there staring at us, his mouth twisted with pain both his hands clenched in white knuckled fists. He caught my eye and shot me a look of pure hatred and deceit before storming off into the kitchen shoving other couples out of the way. I was beginning to understand now.

"You mean..."

"Yes, he did to me what she did to you."

I was numb. I sighed softly and lowered my head to rest again hers.

"I'm sorry." I whispered to her gently and hugged her tighter.

"Me too." She whispered back.

It was a very odd sensation indeed, knowing someone you have only just met better than anyone else in the world. She and I were joined in the same limbo of emotional numbness and hopelessness. We had each other and yet had no one and nothing apart from a shadow of a forgotten happiness that we both knew once existed, but still couldn't put a finger on how it got there or why it ended. So we just stood there together, we had nothing else to do and no more words to be said between us.

It was then, when the mixed CD finally finished and the noise of people talking died down a little, that I heard the slam of the front door and a drunken laugh, a laugh that I would be able to recognise and remember and hate for an age. I gripped the back of Sarah's dress again, tighter this time, and cursed under my breath.

"Shit"

She's here. Shit she's here what the hell am I supposed to do now? I pushed Sarah away from our embrace and placed my hands on her hips. I let my head fall and screwed my eyes shut. I couldn't think. All I could hear was her voice in my head. She was in the kitchen now, stumbling about with a half full bottle of vodka in her hands, what was she doing here? She had no right to be here.

"Paul? Paul its me." a cool hand brushed me cheek.

I opened my eyes slowly and lifted my head as her hand pushed my chin upwards

"Hey." Sarah smiled up at me and brushed her thumb against my lips. I grabbed at her palm and held it tightly in my own.

"What do I do? I can't do this Sarah, I just can't." The words just tumbled out of me before I could stop them, I was desperate.

And then she smiled again, took her hand in mine, held it softly and kissed me.

"It's okay, I know" She sighed and rested her head against mine.

We both knew what I had to do. We both knew that this would be the last time our eyes would meet and our hands brush against each others cheeks. Sure, we could exchange numbers and promise to meet up for coffee but we both knew that it would be wrong, that it would be awkward and uncomfortable. And so this would have to be how it finished.

"If I had met you at a different time Sarah..."

"I know" she smiled and sighed again. "Nothings ever easy is it?"

I shook my head

"Well, I guess this is goodbye then isn't it?" She wasn't as confident as she had been out in the garden; her voice was lined with something I couldn't put my finger on.

"I guess so" was all I could reply. She leant forward and kissed me on the cheek softly.

"Goodbye Paul, it was nice meeting you," She said, her confidence apparently renewed.

"You too," I called after her quietly as she turned slowly on her heel and made her way towards the stairs, only looking back once to check if I was still there. She smiled a little at me as she did and brushed her hair out of her eyes before making her way up the rest of the stairs out of sight. I couldn't think about what had just happened right now, there would be plenty of time to do that in the morning.

It was then that Chelsea trotted as quickly as her high heels would let her out of the kitchen. She looked a little more sober now, her hair was a bit of a mess and there was a large stain on her dress where someone had spilled a drink on her. She looked around, clearly distressed as she bit on her lip and squeezed briskly through the crowd. She was looking for me, I knew she would ask me sooner or later and I knew what I would reply when she asked me to take her home, away from her house. Because everyone knew by now, that wherever she turned up, trouble was never too far behind.

"Paul I..." she had managed to push her way through the crowd and now stood before me anxiously looking backwards every now and then towards the kitchen. I nodded slowly.

"I know, I'll take her home now." I checked that my car keys were still in my pocket, it was going to be a long drive and I was still a little drunk but I'd driven home in worse states before.

"Thanks Paul, I tried everyone else, they just didn't want to know" Chelsea apologised.

"It's okay honestly" I flashed her a fake smile hoping to reassure her. She smiled back, but hers was almost as false as mine. "Is she in the kitchen?" I just wanted to get on with this now.

"Yeah, she's passed out on one of the chairs."

"Right" I started to make my may towards the doorway.

"Oh and Paul" I turned round "Thank you for this."

I found her slumped on the floor in the deserted kitchen. Doing my best not to look too closely, I picked her up and carried her through the lounge, into the hall and out the front door. With some difficultly I managed to get out my keys and prop her up in the front seat, she moaned a little and swore at me for moving her. She had no idea who I was or what was going on, but then again, that was probably a good thing. My hands burnt at the touch of her skin and the lump in my throat had returned with gusto, but nevertheless, I carried on. I got into my car, turned the key in the ignition and started the long drive home. In the long run this will do me some good. But right now it's killing me.

Even at three in the morning with no traffic, it still took me almost an hour to drive from the suburbs into the darker part of town. I had to stop a couple of times and roll down the window while she vomited violently. Black mascara soaked tears ran down her cheeks as she held her head in her hands. I didn’t say anything. Neither did she.

By the time I had parked on the sidewalk next to a run down apartment block she had passed out with her head rested on the window. The moon shone brightly on the cracked, littered pathment and lit up the graffiti stained walls. Street lamps flickered as I managed to pick her up, out of the car and walk towards the apartment block.

Don’t think about it. Don’t even look at her. Her head lolled to the side and rested on my cheek as I struggled up the stairs. Just walk. Up the stairs. Down the corridor. Ninth door on the left. She was still tiny, with one arm wrapped round my neck the other dangled uncontrollably brushing against the dingy walls of the corridor. Number 36. Her hair still smelt like it always did, coconuts and lilies, the same colour as sand and always perfectly straight apart from one curl that went astray just above her left ear.

The door wasn’t locked; she had nothing of worth stealing anyway. I can still remember the day she had to sell her T.V to make the months rent. We stayed in bed all day and made each other laugh. We didn’t need a T.V anyway. The flat was a tip. Any piece of furniture she owned was upturned, on its side or falling to pieces, the floor covered in empty pizza boxes, old newspapers and black bin bags full or rubbish. A three legged coffee table stood in the centre of the room covered in glossy magazines. The tiny open planned kitchen that peeled of to the right was scattered with endless empty bottles of cheap vodka. I managed to wade through the lounge into her bedroom which was equally as untidy. Clothes scattered all over the floor bursting from the saturated wardrobe, a small dressing table with a dirty, cracked mirror surrounded by hundreds of empty make up bottles and an unmade single bed filled the tiny space so that there was hardly any room to move. It’s almost like I had never left.

The only part of the entire apartment that seemed to have any sort of order was the CD collection that stood proudly in the corner next to the bed. Hundreds of CD’s carefully labored over with love and care in alphabetical order were stacked next to a tiny portable Hi-Fi. I can still remember sifting through them, her excitement when she brought home her latest addition, we’d lie in bed all day listening to it until we’d fall asleep in each others arms.

I set her down carefully on the bed and went through to the kitchen. My hands shook and my head spun as I leant back on the greasy countertop. I saw before me, in this apartment, all the things I had tried my best to forget, leave behind, erase from my memory.

I remember her hands, always perfectly painted fingernails a dark red, or turquoise. I remember the way she placed them on me, soft on my chest then up onto my neck. She’d trace her long nails down my side and dig her fingers in and hold me tight. And I’d do the same. I’d tell her she was beautiful, that she drove me crazy, that I couldn’t spend a second without her and that I’d do anything for her.

My fingers gripped the chipboard work-surface tightly.

I remember her voice; I hung on her every word like a puppet dangling on string. She’d bite her bottom lip and look at me with those eyes and I’d shatter.

“Paul, it’s late come to bed.”

She stood in an oversized t-shirt and a pair of my old boxer shorts leaning effortlessly against the door frame to her bedroom.

I sighed and followed obediently, shutting the door behind us with a soft click. Like I said, It’s like I never left.

“So, where’ve you been thee past three years?”

She sat at the head of the bed, her legs crossed with a newly lit cigarette in her left hand propped up on her elbow while I perched on the bottom, facing away from her staring at the closed door in front of me.

I didn’t answer.

I really didn’t feel like answering any of her questions tonight. I wasn’t in the mood for putting up with her word spinning or her sarcastic beration. She threw me her pack of cigarettes and I stared at them for a while before removing one and lighting it.

It seems like both of my new years resolutions were taking a battering tonight. I took a long drag and relaxed slightly.

“You know where I’ve been.”

She huffed “Oh yeah, your degree,” she took another drag “How’s that coming along? Last thing I heard you had a book deal or something.”

“Yeah, that fell through.” My words felt flat somehow, as if they weren’t actually mine but someone else’s that I’d rehearsed.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“I guess that’s why you’re back then.” The room was now filled with a thin haze of smoke which hovered above us like a cloud.

I heard her shuffle forward to the middle of the bed as I took another long pull on my cigarette and exhaled slowly watching how the smoke tumbled from my lips and drift silently into the air.

“I’ve missed you, Paul.” She’s said that before. “This place hasn’t been the same without you.” That too. “I haven’t been the same without you.” That one’s new. She shuffled closer again so that she was sitting right behind me. I could feel her eyes boring into the back of my head. I knew, by memory, the face she would be wearing tonight, even without looking. It would be smudged with makeup and almost, but not quite, teary eyed. It would sad and longing, fraught with pain and loss. It would quiet and innocent, but overall, of course, as always, it would be beautiful.

She reached out and took hold of the pack of cigarettes but changed her mind. She laid he palm softly on my thigh gripping it gently.

“Paul, I…”

And then I remembered.

I remembered waking up and wondering where she was, an empty space lying beside me where she should have been. No note. No phone call.

I remembered arguments about the simplest of things. I remembered tears, dodging flying plates, bleeding knuckles and sturdy walls. I remembered placing my shaking hands on her wet cheeks and holding her tightly. I remembered anger, and hurling myself against the man who I found in our bed while she whimpered in the kitchen.

I always succumb to her. There’s never a way of stopping it, she always knows the right words to say, the places to touch. She was sat in my lap with her arms dripped around my neck, her forehead pressed against mine. Our breath mingled together, the sweet smell of cheap vodka and Marlborough Gold had never been so inviting to me. I wrapped my arms around her back and pulled her close.

“Eva, I hate the things you do to me.”

“I know baby, but that’s why you always come back.”