Losing Me Finding You (15 page)

And then the truck has gone and so has Ben.

Well, I have.

Twenty years old

The sun shines into my room and today I turn twenty years old.

My eyes fly open, my heart pounding in my chest as I sit bolt upright in bed. I feel as though I’ve just woken up from a horrible nightmare, but I have absolutely no idea what it was about. I’m covered in sweat, yet my whole body shakes as though I’m freezing, or terrified, or maybe both. I wish I could remember what the dream was about.

The sound of the wind and ocean enters the room and I throw back the sheets and walk to the window, pushing open the glass. The freezing air hits me, chilling me to the bone, and I’m greeted with a rocky coastline of sheer cliffs and rolling waves. I have no idea where I am.

I close the window and turn and walk out of my bedroom to look around the tiny bungalow that is evidently my home. I’m alone, but for some strange reason, today I’m extremely grateful for that. I’m not entirely sure why, but I don’t feel like seeing or talking to anybody and this isolated spot I’ve woken up in feels strangely perfect.

I look around my home, trying to work out where I am, why none of this feels familiar. The house is made up of a front room with a huge stone fireplace. The remnants of last night’s fire still smoulder in the hearth and I guess it’s me who made it, even though I can’t remember anything from before the strange and now forgotten dream. The lingering smell of smoke triggers a memory, but it’s gone before it can form.

To the left is a kitchen-diner and I wander in to put the kettle on before continuing to look around the rest of my home. A bathroom and two bedrooms make up the rest of the house. A laptop sits on the desk in the smaller of the two bedrooms and next to it is a pile of paper, filled with words I have no memory of writing.

Am I a writer?

I hear the kettle whistle and head back to the kitchen to make myself a cup of tea, before walking back into the living room. There’s a TV in front of the couch and I could switch it on and try to work out where I am or what’s going on, but I don’t.

I don’t want to watch TV. I don’t want to talk to anyone and I definitely don’t want to see anyone.

I don’t even care about where or who I am anymore.

I turn and walk back into my bedroom, crawling into bed where I curl up under the duvet and bury myself from the world.

My eyes close as an overwhelming blanket of sadness washes over me and I spend the rest of the day laying here, trying to work out why the hell I feel so upset.

28th February 1997

Twenty-one years old

Today is my twenty-first birthday. I should be excited, celebrating, spending the day with friends and family. But I’m not. For the past year, I’ve barely felt like I’m alive at all, moving through each day as though I’m in a trance, weighed down by a sadness that never seems to leave me. I don’t even know why I feel like this, let alone know how to shake it.

I know I can’t go on like this. I’m miserable and angry and I’m shutting people out. But most of all, I’m lonely.

It’s exhausting and isolating, living like this. I want more but I don’t know how to find it, how to even begin looking for what it is I want, what it is that’s missing.

I decide to call my best friend, Penny, and she what she’s up to, if maybe she wants to go out with me tonight.

“Yes!” she screams down the phone. “Of course we’re fucking going out, shit I can’t believe I forgot your birthday. Happy birthday!”

I can’t believe she forgot it either. For someone who is supposed to be my best friend, she doesn’t exactly do a very good job of it. Then again, I guess I haven’t been much of a friend either. I rarely call her and almost never accept her invitation to go out drinking.

“Thanks,” I say, not really displaying the same level of enthusiasm as Penny is.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, as though she’s afraid I’m suddenly going to change my mind. It wouldn’t be the first time.

I exhale loudly, determined to just go out and have a good night, despite the blackness that seems to be constantly hanging over me. “Nothing, I’m just…” What, what am I exactly? Sick of feeling so pissed off, sick of not knowing what I’m actually pissed off about.

Sick of feeling so alone.

“Nothing,” I finally say, pushing these thoughts to the back of my mind. “I’m just in the mood to go out and get drunk.”

“Fantastic,” Penny screams into the phone again. “I’ll be over in an hour, make sure you look hot, girl, because we are going to paint the town red tonight.”

“Okay,” I say, but Penny has already hung up.

Fuck it this is exactly what I need, I think to myself as I throw the phone onto the bed. I walk into the kitchen and grab myself a beer from the fridge, desperate to take the edge off and kick start this evening. I need to go out, have fun; I know this. I also need to forget all about the voice in my head that’s telling me something isn’t right.

I take a quick shower, before I finish off my beer and pull on some clothes. Tonight I’m going for a short black dress, black opaque tights and knee high black boots with a heel. Not really my thing but I know Penny will only make me change if I don’t dress like this.

I paint my eyes with a lot of black liner and mascara and my lips a blood red. I’ve never dressed like this before and as I look at myself in the mirror, I can’t help but wonder; who am I trying to be?

Is this what you wanted?

I don’t know where these thoughts are coming from and the longer I stand here staring at myself, the more I realise that this is not me. I don’t wear these clothes and I don’t put this much make up on and I don’t like what I look like in it.

Neither does he.

I shake the thoughts from my head, quickly grabbing another beer from the fridge, before I strip off the boots, the tights and the dress. I quickly wash my face in the bathroom sink and as I stand here in nothing but my knickers and bra, face completely devoid of make up, I think, this is more like it.

I walk to my cupboard, pull out a pair of worn jeans and a long-sleeve black top that could be described as low-cut, at a stretch. Pulling the clothes on, I walk back into the bathroom, apply substantially less eyeliner and mascara before coating my lips in gloss. Standing back, I stare at my reflection.

“This is you, Evie. The real you,” I say to myself.

And it is, I know it is.

The problem is, these days, I feel like I barely know who the real Evie is.

“You are not wearing that,” Penny says as soon as she walks in my front door.

I look down at the top and jeans I changed in to. “Yes I am,” I tell her.

“Um, no,” she says standing in front of me with her hands on her hips now. She’s dressed in a tight red dress, with a very low cleavage and lots of boob pouring out. She’s definitely on the pull tonight and dressed like that, I’m sure she’ll have no shortage of takers.

I exhale, rolling my eyes as I ask, “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

“It’s boring,” Penny says, walking towards my wardrobe to find me something else to wear. “How the fuck are you going to pick up dressed like that?”

I ignore her, walking out of my room and into the kitchen where I grab two beers from the fridge. When I get back to my room, I hand one to Penny before sitting on my bed. “What if I don’t want to pick up tonight?” I ask her.

Penny snorts as she turns to face me, one hand on her hip, the other lifting the bottle to her lips. “Okay, one,” she says, holding a finger up as though she’s counting. “Why the fuck wouldn’t you want to pull, when was the last time you were with someone anyway?”

I shrug, because I honestly have no idea. I know I must have, but I can’t remember how long it’s been or who is was with.

“All the more reason to,” she says, gesturing in my direction as though it’s obvious.

“Hardly,” I murmur, taking another sip of my beer.

“Well, in any case, two,” she says, holding up a second finger. “It’s your birthday so you have to pull.” I’m shaking my head but before I can say anything, Penny’s talking again. “And three,” she says, adding a third finger as she walks towards me. “I’m planning to pull, so you’re going to need to as well.”

I finish the rest of my beer, knowing there’s no point in trying to change Penny’s mind. My only hope is she’ll get drunk and find her own guy and stop worrying about whether I’ve found one too.

Thirty minutes later and we’re in the pub doing shots of Jaeger. I’m not really in the mood for this, but I force them down as Penny screams at the bartender to get us some more. Even I can tell he’s getting pissed off with her and I’m secretly hoping that he takes pity on me and throws us both out.

We are drunk, but while Penny is happy, crazy drunk, laughing and flirting with everyone in here, I’m bored and depressed drunk. It doesn’t seem to matter how much I drink, I can’t shake whatever it is that’s hanging over me. And I can’t make myself feel happy either. I can’t even fake it.

“Come on, birthday girl,” Penny yells, dragging me off my stool. “Let’s go dance.”

It’s not much of a dance floor, but there are enough people on there that we won’t make complete tits of ourselves. Penny launches herself into the middle of the small crowd, immediately taking over and dancing suggestively towards any guy within range. One guy latches onto her almost immediately and I take the opportunity to leave, going back to my stool at the end of the bar.

“You look as though you’re having just as much fun as I am,” a male voice says to me. I turn and see a man with brown hair and a warm smile standing next to me. “You here with her,” he says, tilting his head towards the dance floor.

I turn and see Penny now snogging the guy who was brave enough to start dancing with her. “Yeah,” I say, wondering how she does it, how she just puts herself out there like that.

“Yeah, well the guy currently sucking her face is my mate, so don’t worry, you’re not alone,” he says.

Yes I am.

I turn and see he’s smiling at me now. “I’m not,” I say. “Penny can take care of herself.”

The guy watches me for a second or two as though he’s trying to decide whether I’m worth the effort. I want to tell him not to bother, because I’m not in the mood for talking and I’m definitely not here to pick up. But then he sticks out his hand and says, “Hi, I’m Josh.”

I look down, watch as my hand slides into his and shakes back, as though I have no control over it. I don’t feel anything, but then that could be because I’m drunk. “Evie,” I say.

“Well, Evie,” he says, sitting down next to me. “Can I buy you a drink while our friends have sex on the dance floor?”

And for the first time in what feels like forever, I actually smile.

24th September 1997

Twenty-one years old

“Hey,” Josh says, as I open my front door.

“Hi,” I say, smiling back at him. “Let me just grab my bag.”

He waits in the doorway while I do and then together, we head back out and towards town.

“How was your day?” he asks after a while.

I glance up and see him smiling down at me. Somehow, Josh and I stayed friends after the night of my birthday. Penny ultimately went home with his friend and after they did, Josh offered to walk me home. I said yes, and while nothing happened between us, we’ve somehow stayed in contact since that night. It was a surprise, but I’m okay with it, he’s nice and good company.

“It was okay,” I say smiling. “About as exciting as working in a library in a small English town can get really.”

Josh laughs. “What the old ladies don’t get all excited when the latest erotic romance comes in?”

I laugh. “Yeah, you should see them, it’s like old-age wrestling in there.”

Josh laughs again, slinging his arm around my shoulder as we continue on in silence. The weight of his arm feels both strange and nice at the same time. I have a vague memory of this, of the sensation of a heavy arm, wrapped around me as we walk. It feels like it was from a long time ago, but the more I try to hold on to it, the faster it seems to fade away.

“You okay?” he suddenly asks.

I look up at him; see the concerned look on his face. “Yeah,” I answer, although I’m not entirely sure if I am.

Josh smiles at me now before he leans in and presses a kiss to the top of my head. A jolt runs down my spine and a part of me wants to pull away because this sudden intimacy feels almost wrong. Whatever is happening here, I’m not sure if I like it. But as if he can sense it, Josh lets go of me and we continue our walk into town, not touching at all.

I don’t want to think about what it means that I feel relieved by this.

24th June 1998

Twenty-two years old

“Come on you two!” Penny screams at us. She’s running towards the water and I’m smiling as I wait for her scream. “Fuck it’s cold!” it comes, right on cue.

“Watch this,” Josh says, as Simon, his friend from the night of my birthday, sneaks up on Penny and grabs her around the waist, throwing her further into the ocean. We both laugh as she surfaces, splashing and swearing at him.

“You want to go in?” Josh asks, his eyes running up and down my body.

I shiver at the way he looks at me, but it’s not the good kind. “No, too cold for me,” I say taking a seat on the blanket we’ve brought down.

“Me too,” he says, taking a seat beside me and handing me a beer.

I take it, snatching my hand back when his fingers brush mine. Why can’t I get used to him touching me? He’s a nice guy, good looking, why can’t I get used to this.

Because it’s not him.

“Evie?” he says, his hand waving in front of my face. “Where’d you go?”

I shake my head, having no idea. “Nowhere,” I say, smiling up at him.

Josh stares down at me, his eyes drifting to my mouth. My stomach seizes as I imagine he’s going to kiss me. But then he blinks and looks away, his eyes on our friends who are now all over each other as the waves crash into them.

“Amazing they lasted so long, isn’t it?” Josh says, almost to himself. I watch as he gestures to Penny and Simon, his eyes on them as Penny suddenly squeals loud enough for half the beach to hear.

I turn to face them, see Simon has pulled off her bikini top and Penny is laughing as she covers her chest, pretending she’s not pleased by his attention. They look happy, in love and I know this is exactly how Penny feels. She told me when she finally resurfaced after the night they met, her walk of shame bringing her to my house late the following afternoon.

“Good night?” I’d said to her, laughing as she’d swooned and fallen on to my couch.

“God, amazing night,” she’d said in that dramatic way she has. “I think I’m in love.”

I had laughed as I’d made her a cup of tea. “Already, how can you be in love already?” I’d asked, even though deep down, I somehow knew it was possible to fall in love like that.

Penny had given me a secret smile before asking, “What happened with you and his friend, Josh, right?”

“Nothing,” I’d shrugged. “He walked me home after you ditched me, and that was it.”

“No kiss?” she’d asked, pouting.

“No kiss,” I’d said, not bothering to tell her that I was relieved there had been no kiss.

“Evie,” Josh suddenly says and I get the feeling it’s not the first time.

“Yeah?” I whisper, my eyes still on Penny and Simon.

“What are we doing here?” he asks.

I turn to look at him, see him staring down at me with a face I can’t read. “What do you mean?” I whisper, knowing he isn’t talking about what we’re doing sitting on the beach, watching our friends.

“You,” he says reaching out to brush a finger down my cheek. “And me, what are we doing here?”

“We’re friends,” I say, blinking as I try to work out what he really wants me to say.

“Only friends?” he asks now, his eyes on my mouth again.

I bite my lip, all of the air suddenly trapped in my lungs making it nearly impossible to breathe. What’s going on here, why is Josh looking at me like that? “Good friends?” I suggest, even though I know that’s not what he’s talking about.

I watch as Josh leans a tiny bit closer. I feel my stomach flip and I have to take a quick sip of my beer, as I try to and calm myself down. Josh’s eyes stay on my mouth and this time his finger swipes along my bottom lip, wiping away a splash of beer. He puts his finger in his mouth now to lick it off and suddenly my head is swimming as though I’m drunk.

“What if I told you I wanted to be more than just friends?” he whispers, his eyes still on my mouth.

I’m staring back at him, wondering why he can’t look me in the eye as he says these words. Wondering how I can possibly say no to him, that this isn’t what I want right now. Why don’t I want it?

Because it’s not him.

I blink at the sudden thought and Josh takes it as an invitation, closing the distance between us and pressing his lips against mine. He tastes like beer and salty chips and I open my eyes, trying to work out what he’s thinking. My view is filled with his face as it moves in front of mine.

The kiss is warm and soft. His tongue touches my lips, as though he’s asking them to open, but they don’t. I gently kiss him back even though all I want to do is pull away.

It’s not him, it’s not him, it’s not him.

Eventually I do and I watch as Josh’s eyes slowly open, the lazy smile that forms on his face. His thumb brushes over my bottom lip again and I don’t know what he wants me to say.

I barely know what it is I’m feeling right now.