The Night We Met

Chapter 42

Riley's POV:

"Riii, I'm going to get another drinkkk," Michelle tells me, heading over to the sofa I was sat on. She places her hand on my back as she does but when I look up from my phone, I take in the state she was in. I'd been watching her for the majority of the night and had managed to gather that she'd made out with three different guys, had a remarkable mixture of drinks, danced with multiple strangers and I'd even caught her sharing a cigarette with one guy. My opinions on that are very simple. I know what's up with her. She's missing John. She needs a guy. It's the only way she knows how to let loose: getting herself drunk.

"Are you sure that's a good idea, honey?" I ask her, standing up and leaving my phone on the sofa for a moment. I grab her by the shoulders as I stood in front of her and I use my finger to lift her chin up so that she made eye-contact with me. "How many fingers am I holding up?" I ask, putting up four fingers. She stares at me drowsily, her body wavering from one side to another, only confirming my suspicions.

"Uhm . . . twelve?" she questions. She's wasted. 

"That's it. We're getting you back to campus. You're not alright," I say. Keeping one hand on her shoulder, I look around the place only to see Thalia dancing with some random fella on the dance floor and Devon and Jess in the corner talking and flirting. Sighing, I turn back to Michelle who looked like she was almost about to vomit as she rests her head on my shoulder. It's just as well I decided to steer clear of alcohol tonight. 

"Hey, Riley," Oliver calls through the crowd. He makes his way over towards us and I smile at him as once he reaches us, he helps me in keeping Michelle upright. "God, she's really wasted," I hear him mumble.

"Yeah. What time is it?"

"It's just gone twelve. I saw some staff beginning to kick some people out for poor behaviour," he tells me.

"Do you reckon you could drive us back? I know Thalia, Devon and Jess want to stay a little longer but can you drive Michelle and I? I really need some sleep and so does Michelle," I tell him. He looks up at me and smiles, nodding his head.

"Sure thing. I'll start walking her towards the car now. You remember where I parked, right?"

"Yeah, but you haven't had anything to drink have you? If you have, I might be better off to drive."

"No, don't worry. I'm as sober as you are," he chuckles.

"Okay, hold on, just let me grab my phone," I say. He nods and then begins to walk off with Michelle practically falling asleep on him. Her arms were wrapped around his chest while he had an arm around her body, lightly petting her hair with his hand. It makes me laugh a little. Michelle sure was a stressful handful but she never failed to make me laugh. 

However, when I turn around and reach for the phone I had left on the sofa, I don't manage to grab it. Turning around, I look but don't see it there and I know I left it there for a fact. I look all the way around the round bend of the mini booth, I look on the table and even crouch down to look on the floor. It wasn't there.

"Shit," I whisper under my breath. "Shit, shit shit." I stand back up again and run my hand through my hair. I have everything on that phone. Texts. Photos. Letters. Other private things. It was in my hands one minute and I know I put it on the sofa, so where the fuck is it now? 

I double check the table, floors and sofas again but it wasn't there. Am I going crazy? 
I begin to walk around the bar, looking at every table I pass. Maybe Michelle took it when I wasn't looking? But that makes no sense, why would she? She can barely even see right now. I frantically make my way towards Jess and Devon who were in the middle of a make-out but I couldn't care less. I pull both of them back by the shoulders, causing them to blink and blush as they take in my presence. "I need one of your phones," I blurt out. Devon raises an eyebrow.

"What?"

"I need to use Find my iPhone because I've lost mine."

"I don't have data," Jess mumbles. "And Devon's phone isn't working at the moment. He left it at the dorms," she tells me, causing me to breathe out in exasperation.

I leave the two of them and look around only to see Thalia sneaking into the private staff room with some random guy whose hand was linked with hers. The view makes me want to gag but I had more important things to worry about. I think of the only place I could possibly thinks straight, which was the toilets, so I make my way in the direction of the Mens and Ladies rooms. As soon as I push the door open to the corridor outback, I get to the point where the hallway splits into two parts: Mens and Ladies. But stood there, right in the centre, flipping my phone in his hand like it was a ball, stood Aiden. And I swear my heart stops.

"Aiden," I breathe out. "Give . . . Give me my phone." I stay where I was, far away from him. He turns around, his devilish smirk on his face making me bite my lip.

"You mean this thing?" he asks, turning the device on and showing it to me for my eyes to meet the photo of James and I kissing. I swallow, taking one step back as he takes several towards me. "It's cute, isn't it? The story of love," he says, continuing to approach me. my entire body was trembling right now from my lips to my toes and the worst part was, James wasn't here, the girls were elsewhere and everyone in this club was pretty much drunk. I was on my own.

"Give it back," I say. I try to sound fierce, controlling, strong and confident but it comes out as a plead, a beg, and it only entertains him more.

"You see," he continues his wrath, "love starts like this. The girl meets the guy and they start talking. They go on a few dates, hang everyday, get to know each other, end up telling some stupid, crappy secrets, get in bed together and they wake up the following morning then boom! They're in love. But what sort of messed-up love is that? That's not love, Riley. The cuddling, the deep secrets, the 'I love you's. It's not love," he says. He was messing with my brain. I know it. 

"You're sick," I spit, shaking my head. "You're mental." I take one step towards him as his smirk crumbles into a scowl. He was still holding my phone, so close I could just about get my fingertips on it. "You're a psychopath, Aiden." As soon as I say it, I feel a quick throb on my cheek as he slaps me hard. The speed of it only makes it hurt more but I try to stand my ground. I take another step closer. "I don't love you, Aiden. You need to understand that. You've put me through hell but I've survived. No matter what you do or say to me now, I will survive. Because I'm strong. I'm Riley. I've always been Riley."

"Bullshit," he scoffs, shaking his head. "You're not strong. You're weak. You're pathetic. You're so sad it's upsetting. Do you know how much it hurts to watch you walk around school like the lowlife you are?"

"What's sad is the fact that a guy who cheated and whose girlfriend dumped him can't just move on already! He has to come running back. You never loved me, Aiden! You can tell me you did all you like, but you didn't!" He slaps me again and it knocks me off a little but I remain standing. I can't lose now. I have to win this. "I hate you," I whisper. He shakes his head, scoffing still. 

"No."

"Yes. I. Hate. You. So much. You tore me from my family. You turned me against my friends. You manipulated me and punched me till I was nothing but bones. But you know what, Aiden? You could never take me down completely. You can break my bones. You can hit me hard. You can assault me until it hurts. But you can't break my heart. You damaged it, sure, but it was fixed by someone a billion times better than you, I swear."

"You little bitch!" he exclaims. The next minute I know, he drops my phone and hurries over to me, grabbing me by the strands of my hair and then pushing me way up against the wall. As he does, he punches my stomach, making me choke. He kicks my legs until I fall to the ground and he holds me by the shoulders firmly and tightly, squeezing it so that they pretty much pop out of their sockets. It's then that I break down crying. The pain was too much for my body to handle.

The thing is . . . he wasn't done. He leaves me to cry for a couple of seconds before kicking me again, straight in the stomach. I was bleeding now, my hip and my legs. He scoffs and laughs and places his hands on the wall, looking down at me like the sicko he is. My phone starts ringing on the floor, most likely Oliver checking where I was. It wouldn't be James, it's too late for him to possibly be up when he's meant to be waking up early tomorrow. It doesn't make a difference about who it was though. I couldn't answer the call either way.

"I hate you," I whisper, those being the only words I could let out of their cage before I completely blacked out.