CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Pity Party
Whilst watching Sasha carefully place a piping hot mug of mint infused tea in my trembling hands, I offered her a half-arsed, “Thanks,” and sweetly smiled through my attempts at swallowing the foul tasting substance.
“Taste like shit?” she asked, watching me with raised brows.
“Yeah,” I laughed, though struggled to make light of the situation.
Upon leaving Luke’s, I’d called myself a taxi, having understood the dangers I would be putting myself under should I have chosen to walk home in the dark. I came straight back to tell Sasha everything and miraculously, she understood what I was trying to say through my dramatic insistence to sob. She was brilliant at listening to my rendition of things and never once judged the situation. She was, however, shocked to hear of Luke’s attempts at meddling in my life and even more so that Dan was now a fully-fledged drug addict.
“I thought the sugar might perk you up a little. I may have gone overboard.”
Overboard? One sip and I was borderline diabetic.
“Thanks, I appreciate it,” I ensured, making the conscious decision to be grateful.
Fortunately, my attention was momentarily drawn to my phone's harsh vibration going off in my pocket, alerting me to an incoming text from a certain someone I was desperately trying to avoid.
<I know you hate me but please text to say you got home safe. xx>
The word ‘hate’ shone back at me and settled in my gut, much like a dodgy kebab would after a night out. I had never not spoken to Luke in the nineteen years I’d known him, and as much as I didn’t want to see him right now, I could never bring myself to hate him.
<I don’t hate you. I’m just not particularly fond of you right now. I got home safe.>
No kiss; that would show him!
<Okay. I love you. xx>
I didn’t dare return the thoughts, for fear of breaking my moral standards and letting him off the hook far too easily. It had been less than an hour and I was already struggling without him, but when a point as important as mine needed to be proven, I was determined to stick by my actions and get a goddamn grip.
“That him?” asked Sasha, sipping on her own drink.
“Hmm,” I replied, switching my phone off and placing it face down on the coffee table. “He just wanted to know I got home safe.”
“Christ! I can’t believe you’re being followed. What are you gonna do? Call the police?” she questioned, having every right to be concerned.
Truth be told, I hadn’t put much thought into next steps. All I knew was my bed was calling and shutting the world out for a few hours felt like the logical thing to do.
“Oh crap, Luke’s calling me,” she suddenly stated, interrupting all thoughts of bed. “Should I ignore him?”
“You don’t have to do that,” I insisted, hating the thought of Luke having no one to turn to.
After all, he and Sasha were friends too.
“Okay,” she smiled, encouragingly so. “Hello?”
There was a moment of silence as she listened to him on the other end; her serious expression and creased brow hinting towards careful instruction being dished out.
“Alright, yeah I’m doing it now,” she spoke, moving from her position on the sofa to double bolt the front door and lock all the windows.
Her precautions, although a little far fetched, brought home the reality of the situation and as much as I wanted to cry myself into oblivion, I just about managed to resist doing so.
“All done,” she said, looking my way shortly after. “Yeah, she’s okay. A little bit upset.”
I motioned for her to stop telling him how pathetic I was being and mouthed for her to quit looking through the peep hole as though a bunch of masked men were about to burst through at any God given moment. Honestly, she had my nerves sky-high.
“I don’t need to tell her you love her, Luke. She knows you do and that’s not the issue,” soothed Sasha, acting as the true friend by not taking sides. “I’ll look after her and text you if she gets drastically kidnapped from the street,” she smirked, attempting light-heartedness, though to her utmost failure.
Her joke fell flat and only seemed to cause Luke further worry.
“I was joking, Anderson! She’ll come around soon enough. Her ego is bruised; it’s what us women do. Now crack open a beer, watch some football and compile a list of things to do to make it up to her. Flowers are always a winner,” she advised, winking my way soon after.
She eventually hung up and with a slight shake of the head; threw her phone down on the sofa, purposely hitting my thigh with it.
“That boy has got it bad for you. He’s a fucking mess!” she informed, seating herself down afterwards. “I’m not saying what he did was right but he’s genuinely distraught you’re not talking to him.”
“I know,” I sighed, throwing my head back in defeat. “I feel awful for leaving him the way I did but he can’t expect me to forgive and forget straight away.”
“But you will eventually, won’t you? I mean, this isn’t it, right? It can’t be. You’re Luke and Maya. If you two can’t make a relationship work, there’s no hope for the rest of us,” she dramatically declared, nudging my side. “I know you, Maya. You don’t have it in you to leave him and that’s not a bad thing. You shouldn’t be ashamed of that.”
She was right; I didn’t have it in me to leave him. Because that would be doing the one thing I promised never to do.
FLASHBACK
(Maya)
With my raincoat slung carelessly over my red, flannel pyjamas, I ignored my Mother’s instruction to remain at home and forced myself to endure the freezing cold temperatures December had to offer. Above me, thick clouds circled the greying skies and heavy rain pelted at my shaking legs, but I didn’t dare let it stop me. Mum’s withheld cries played on an endless loop in my head; her sweet tone and understanding gestures making me feel sick. Perhaps I would’ve actually vomited had I not felt so numb to it all. Emptiness consumed me and I could barely feel the harsh descent of grief, let alone my need to stop before I collapsed on the ground.
“Claire.”
“Accident.”
“Dead.”
I ploughed forward, seeing the end goal in sight and slowly took to walking the long path leading to Luke’s front door. My heart was hammering against my ribs, and the tears running down my cheeks could no longer be detected through the splash of rain water covering my face.
"Maya?”
Luke’s Dad, Michael, looked positively broken and nothing like the silly man I knew him to be. With eyes as dull as today’s weather, I accepted the reality of the situation and pathetically remained glued in place.
“Luke,” I whispered, managing to force the words past my seized up throat.
“He’s in his room, darling. Has your Mum told you what’s happened?” he asked, gentle as ever.
“Yes. She told me not to come here. She said I couldn’t see Luke yet, but I had to. I ran out when she wasn’t looking. Please let me see him. Please, please,” I begged, pleading with my life.
“Okay, sweetheart, go on up,” he replied, taking pity on my pathetic state. “You be sure to look after him for me,” he added, turning his attention to a crying Ali entering from the living room door.
He picked up his sobbing daughter and gently softened her tears by embracing her wholeheartedly. He then gestured for me to head on up to Luke’s bedroom. I took to the stairs like lightning; knocking twice on his door upon reaching it. I was met with no instruction to bugger off, so cautiously peeled it open and slid myself inside. His body lay shivering in bed and although to be expected, my mind wasn’t quite prepared for it.
“Luke, it’s me. I’m gonna take my shoes off and get into bed with you, okay?” I offered, untying the laces on my brand new, now slightly ruined trainers.
To think Christmas was only three days ago.
I carefully placed them to one side and slipped into bed next to his freezing cold body, pulling the covers high over our heads. I reached for his trembling hand and interlocked my fingers with his, wishing more than ever that I could take away his pain.
“I snuck out of my house to see you. Mum said I wasn’t allowed to come, but I wanted to,” I told him, to which he gifted my hand a slight squeeze.
I was painfully aware he was crying and seeing him so distressed only made me more distressed.
“You can cry on me if you like? I don’t mind if you get my jumper wet.”
With that said, he positioned his face on my chest and sobbed into my woolly jumper, clutching my shoulders with a desperation I’d never before witnessed. I soon found myself crying along with him. We both shared our grief through tears of sadness, and in that moment, I vowed to do everything in my power to always be there for him. Luke was my best friend and I loved him like I’d never loved anyone. He held the ability to break my heart by simply being sad, and if ever there was a time he needed me, it was right now.
"Tell me what to do, Luke," I pleaded, hating how sore and swollen his eyes looked. “Tell me how to help.”
He stared at me with great intensity and rested his forehead against mine, lightly running his lips along my own, slightly chapped ones. Up until this point, I had never kissed a boy in my life, yet somehow I’d always imagined it would one day be with Luke. We didn’t love each other in that way, but I had often heard my Mum talk about actions speaking louder than words and perhaps that was what he needed most. So I kissed him back. It was quick and sweet and so perfectly imperfect that I couldn’t help but tingle from the feeling.
"Never leave me, Maya," he begged, urgently expressing his wishes, whilst offering no room for compromise. "Promise me."
I urgently grasped at both his cheeks, hoping to portray my seriousness with the situation.
"Never," I stated, keeping my response simple and hopefully effective. "I'll never leave you, Luke."
I kissed him again.
Luke and I never spoke about that kiss again, but I never forgot. It wasn’t because we were embarrassed or because we regretted it. It was a special moment shared between two best friends, and sometimes in life; things are to simply be enjoyed and not talked about. We were each other’s first kiss and to some extent, each other’s first love. I may not have known it back then, but a little part of me had always loved him more than I should’ve, and it made our current circumstance all the more worse. I couldn’t see past the betrayal and even though I wanted to, I didn’t yet forgive him. I understood it was relatively fresh and could only hope that with time came forgiveness. Because I was terrified I never would.
What if I never forgave him?
~~~
Two days had passed by painstakingly slow. Between Sasha teaching me how to acquire the correct yoga pose to de-stress and work keeping me busy, I barely had enough time to stop, let alone consider my next steps. I saw Luke everywhere I went, and even though it was me who was ultimately making the decision not to talk, I missed him terribly. The longest we had ever gone without speaking was back in 2005 when I went on a family holiday to Spain. Internet on phones didn’t really exist back then and I had to resort to stealing Mum’s mobile to call Luke back in England. The pair of us had racked up a phone bill of well over two hundred quid and were grounded for weeks because of it.
Totally worth it!
Now, however, no attempt had been made on my side to reach out but that wasn’t to say he didn’t try. I got hourly texts in the form of love heart emojis and pictures of cute bunnies. Resisting temptation was hard. Though, thankfully I was slowly starting to accept that his actions were done out of love, as opposed to jealousy and was finally getting over the fact that Dan accepted money to leave without me. In all honesty, I wasn’t half as bothered about that as I should’ve been, but I was still pissed off that he took it without hesitation. The man I saw at Luke’s was not the man I once loved and the sooner this mess was cleared up, the better.
“And then I shoved a stick up his arse and made him call me Santa Claus,” continued Sasha; sat at our usual table at The Grind.
“That’s nice,” I told her, not really paying attention.
“You’ve not been listening to a single word I’ve said, have you?” she scolded, eyes narrowing into tiny slits.
Her signature cappuccino rested lazily in her hands and my own lukewarm tea went untouched.
LUKE-warm. For fuck sake!
“Sorry,” I sighed, letting go of my frustrations. “My head's a mess,” I admitted, rubbing on my tired eyes.
Sleep had somewhat failed me this last forty-eight hours. As it turned out, being followed by a mysterious man made you a paranoid freak with just the right amount of over exaggeration to drive yourself well and truly up the wall. Every time I heard a noise in the middle of the night, I was convinced I was about to be kidnapped out of my own home. It wasn’t ideal to be living like that, and I knew I needed to address the issue of getting the law involved sooner rather than later. Truth be told, the only reason I hadn’t contacted them already was because of the potential repercussions. Would Dan be in trouble with the police? Would Luke also get dragged into it?
God forbid!
“Just give him a call, Maya,” insisted Sasha, offering me an encouraging smile. “You obviously want to and I know he’s struggling without you. I spoke to him yesterday and it’s like he’s lost his left bollock.”
I laughed at her detailed analogy and nodded my head, agreeing with her suggestion of talking to him. It needed doing soon, and seeing as I was missing him so much, there really was no time like the present.
“You’re right,” I agreed, just as a call came through from an unknown number. “Sash!” I panicked, struggling to see straight. “Someone’s calling me.”
I quickly showed her the screen and began mindlessly shaking; sure it had something to do with my mystery stalker.
“It’s okay babe, just answer it. It’s probably one of those annoying PPI things,” she soothed, calming my nerves. “If you don’t answer it, you’ll get yourself worked up all night,” she added, knowing how I was likely to overreact.
I knew what she was saying made perfect sense, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it and instead, offered her the device.
“Can you answer it for me?” I begged, terrified to do so myself.
She kindly nodded her head and grabbed my phone, accepting the call before it went to voicemail.
“Hello, Maya’s phone.”
Her face contorted ever so slightly and just as I was about to ask her who it was, she knowingly smiled and perked up a little.
“Oh, hi Michael, yeah it’s Sasha.”
Luke’s Dad.
“Maya was just on the loo. She’s back now, I’ll pop her on,” she smiled, handing me the phone.
My gut feeling wasn’t reassuring in the slightest. Thoughts of something terrible having happened flashed before my eyes, and I found myself unprepared for whatever Michael had to say.
“Hello?”
His heavy breathing down the line sent me into a further state of panic; his obvious struggle worrying me.
“Maya, sweetheart,” he urgency whispered.
“What is it? What’s happened?”
I felt sick. Sasha instantly stopped sipping her coffee and looked at me with despair written across her face. Michael didn’t speak again straight away, and just as I was about to ask him if he was still there, he responded.
“It’s our Luke,” he spoke. “He’s been arrested.”