Never Summer Again

Chapter Seven - The Bad News

Score: Big City Life - Mattafix

Lydia

The fine weather we've been blessed with for the past two weeks ends abruptly on Tuesday, when the skies open, releasing gallons upon gallons of cold, gray rain, upon the cold, gray streets of London. The streets, parks, and alleyways get flooded with umbrellas, hoodies, and wellies. The tourists are easily spotted, scurrying from the shelter of one coffee shop, gallery, or shopping centre to the next, raincoats and all, surprised by the weather. It never gets old. It's freakin' England, what'd you expect - sunshine and rainbows all the time?

At least now I can focus on my revision, as there is nothing else to do. I've been distracted enough lately.

Yet, I can't seem to be able to focus fully. Worries about my exams, thoughts about leaving London, and a certain friend, who's recently made a reappearance after being MIA for two years, can't seem to leave me alone.

After we parted on Saturday, we've been texting all the time. It's like the two years we were separated don't even matter, and we're back to being besties. I even wrote in the group chat we still have, but haven't used in years, Gloria, Mark, and I.

Seeing him here, in London again, is stirring up lots of feelings I didn't know I was holding in. I am happy he's back, but I also feel angry that he left and ghosted both Gloria and me, for two years. I feel sad because the last time we saw each other was right before my mum took all those pills, and it seems like a whole lifetime away. Like, my life now is so different, that I don't know if there's space for Mark in it anymore.

I know it was my fault for pushing him away, as well, when it all happened, but I couldn't handle myself back then, let alone manage my relationships. Yet, Patrick, Gloria and Alex had stayed with me. They were there, every day. Every horrible minute of it. If he had wanted, Mark could have been there, too.

Yet, he wasn't.

Which is another thing. I know he's been through a lot, as well. A lot of stuff I don't know about. He seems changed somehow. Somehow more...reserved. More distant. I still remember that day by the lake in Hyde, when he just dismissed me, when I asked about his family. I can't help but feel that there's a lot he isn't telling me.

Having all those feelings distract me from my goals is not what I need right now. Which is why I've decided to do what I've been doing all along, with unwelcome emotions: lock them away and forget about them. Which is why I need to focus and stay away from Mark, at least until exams are over. After all, it's been two years. A month more shouldn't be an issue.

Patrick and I have been planning our revision and exam schedules together for the whole summer term. I am sitting Biology, Chem, and Philosophy, and he's got Maths, Chem, and Physics. We've both got Chem, so we've laid out a whole revision boot camp for it. Our first day was this past rainy, gloomy Tuesday and we spent the whole day, and night, at my place, studying. It was actually quite nice and we got loads of work done. He's always been my best study partner. He's smart and driven, and a hard worker, so we make for a good team.

On Wednesday afternoon, I get a call from Gloria, who asks to borrow my Biology notes. I have always been good at Biology and it is one of the subjects I enjoy the most. Also, it is our first A-Level, for Alex, Nate, Gloria, and myself. We are all sitting it together in two weeks.

"Sure, let me email them to you," I tell her, but she clicks her tongue.

"No, I want the hand-written ones. I know you have annotated them and you have all the important stuff highlighted and shit."

It's a fact. I take pride in my annotating skills. I do it with all books, not only my school notes and textbooks. I annotate novels, articles, and sometimes even magazines. And I do it properly, with all the colours and doodles and quotes extracts. Alex says I have OCD or something.