A Devil Named Aidan ✓

Chapter Twelve

I didn't sleep all night because of the embarrassment of being rejected, no one has ever rejected me-and him being the first just sparked something in me. For some reason, I wanted him a little more than before.

Because I couldn't have him.

I kick the ball into the goal, trying to practise how my father had done it. I haven't seen him the entire morning, not that if care or anything. I notice a tennis ball in the corner of the pitch, I run towards it and slide it onto the pitch with my foot.

I begin to dribble it around, pretending there were cones. With my headphones tucked in, it was just me, my song, the tennis ball. I place my foot on the side of the tennis ball and lock my ankle-pointing my toe up towards the sky.

I make contact in the middle of the tennis ball with my heel and not my stud-I generate enough power and kick the ball behind me-only to fail and drop to the floor.

Fuck sake.

Why didn't dad teach me to do this?

"You failed." I hear behind my music; I pull out my headphones and turn around. Aidan kicking a ball in my direction, I immediately stand up and stop it from reaching the goal.

I look at him, "I didn't fail, I just didn't succeed."

"Not succeeding is a failure."

I balance the foot onto the top of my foot, kick it up and shoot it in his direction.

"And who taught you that?"

His eyes leave my lips, and he catches the ball.

"I did. I think you forget I used to play for Manchester."

"Keyword 'used to' you failed when you left." Aidan chuckles and comes closer to me-over towering me this time.

More like overpowering me by using his height, my neck betrays me and falls back as our eyes fall for one.

His blue eyes look darker today for some odd reason, not the light grey they used to be. Our faces were way off from being close, but our bodies were the opposite.

My stomach flutters, and just before anything is said- his phone rings and I take it that I should step back.

He answers the FaceTime call by my brother and walks away, I notice him signing. I grab my football from the goal and walk to my gym bag, I was already changed and just wanted to practise a little in this huge ass pitch.

"We need to go, your mum made breakfast." For fuck sakes.

We walk to the car; I open the passenger door as he slides in the front. Throwing my gym bag in the back of the car, he reversed out of the parking lot and begins driving.

I hated Glasgow.

Everything about it.

Once we reach the front of my old house, Aidan knocks on the door. And obviously my mother opened it within seconds, her mahogany brown eyes light up as she hugs Aidan.

"Come in, I made hot coco." Then it's just me and her, she stretches the hem of her shirt. "Charlie...how have you been?"

"Don't seem to know why you would care?" I whisper, my mum bites the bottom of her lips. "Am I allowed to come in? Or do you want me to leave, I don't want you to be in the same room as your husbands killer."

It just left my mouth, fuck! My mums eyes gently widen, and tears bubble in the corner of her eyes.

"Charlie, that night i was not in the right state-"

"More like that entire year, I should go."

"No, please come in. Please I made you your favourite, pancake with syrup." Just forget about the past, at the end of the day-I killed her husband. I killed him.

I nod my head and she steps aside; I slide my coat off-she offers to take it, but I shake my head and hang it myself. I walk in and everything is just the same, the kitchen-the living room where me and dad kicked the ball accidentally into the TV.

I remember how angry mum got at the both of us, and dad tried to blame me for it but we both got grounded and weren't allowed to leave the house for two days. But we got away with it by sneaking out the back to play football together.

I then notice the photo frames of dad and me, tears flood my eyes and I lift it from the wall.

My dad used to always take me to his football club when he played professionally, and they all loved me. A photo of dad throwing my three-year-old in the air, one of his friends caught that moment.

I enter the kitchen where the table has been set to the standard, the only seat available was dads old seat and the seat next to Aidan. I slide beside him as mum sets the pancakes in front of me, for some reason I didn't feel at all hungry.

Jake breaks the silence and talks about work; I glance at the empty seat next to me and my lips quiver. Pain strikes my heart, and my fingers tighten around the fork in my hand.

"the mum didn't come back for her, and we had to call social services."

"So, she just left her daughter? How could a mother do that?" Mum whispers in shock.

"You did it, didn't you?" It left my mouth without me thinking, my mum locks eyes with me.

"Charlie-"

"Don't downgrade a mother when you did the same thing, actually at least she had the decency to leave her with the safety of doctors. And not out on the streets."

"Charlie, your father passed away, you cannot keep blaming me for mistakes-"

"Mistakes? Mistakes? That is what you think, you packed my things and left it outside of the door. I was only eighteen years old, my dad just passed away." I drop my fork onto the table and stand up.

"Charlie, that is enough." Jake intervenes.

"You don't understand how it felt to lose the love of my life."

"I do understand! I lost him too; I was in the same car begging him to wake up...he was my best friend, and you didn't even invite me to his funeral!" Jakes eyes widen in shock as if he had no idea that was what happened.

"You told me she didn't want to come." Jake said.

Mums jaw tightens.

"Is that true?"

"I didn't even get to mourn him, to see him before he was buried six foot deep. You took the only chance for me to forgive myself."

Mum suddenly bursts out crying.

"You're crying?" I whisper in shock. "Why are you crying!"

"Aidan can you please take Charlie back to the hotel?"

"I'm sorry Charlie!" I was taken aback from her words and shake my head; I kick the chair behind me and walk to the front. I grab my coat from the hanger, along with my shoes and exit the house.

"I think I'm going to take her back home,"

"Are you sure?" Jake asks.

"Yeah, dont worry about it,"

"Thank you Aidan."

Aidan follows after me and closes the door behind him, tears were flooding my eyes and rolling down my cheeks.  I couldn't take this anymore, I couldn't take the fact that dads death hung over my head, that mum-she said sorry.

She said sorry after three years.

And all I did was shout at her, it was just built-up anger, and I couldn't stop blaming myself for every mistake I do. I'm not perfect, but dads death was not a mistake. It was my fault. And nothing in this world would ever make that change.

Maybe Aidan was right, maybe I am blaming myself because someone had to be blamed. Or maybe I am blaming myself because I am to blame. I was behind that steering wheel. I was responsible for him.

He sighs and reaches me, embracing me in a well needed hug.

I dig my head into his chest and cry everything out, he presses a hand against my head. My hands tighten onto his jacket, "lets go back home." He spoke.