Never Summer Again

Chapter Forty-Nine - I Really Fucked Up

Score: Back to December - Taylor Swift

Mark

"I'm glad you've finally come to your senses," my dad says, shoving a piece of lamb into his mouth. "Soon you'll realize what are the important things in life. Girls are fun, but they are temporary, not to mention, expensive." He gives out a small laugh at his own joke.

Asshole.

When I told him I'd go to America to do what he wanted me to do, my dad took me to a fancy new restaurant in Wembley to discuss the details and to have a "manly" talk.

It's a posh Michelin-star place with plush mustard and teal curtains, separating the booths, concrete floors, and futuristic geometric lights. The food is way too scarce for the money, and there is only one make of beer on the menu.

I'd much rather have a greasy takeout pizza with Lydia back at my mum's, but I don't tell my dad that.

I nod and take a sip from my ale.

A waitress comes to our table, her eyes darting to me way more frequently than appropriate.

Keep dreaming, baby.

"This is a critical deal, Mark," my father continues. "If we play our cards right, we are going to own the company, manufacturing Lily's medication, and we're going to have a constant supply of it, even when it is outside of the clinical trials phase."

"I thought the deal was already closed, Dad," I say, feeling the annoyance creep in. Why can't he be honest, just for once in his life? 

"Yes, it is, there are just some final...arrangements that need to be made. You need to oversee the merger itself."

"Who am I going to report to?"

"Me, of course."

"And in America?" I swirl the last bits of my beer on the bottom of my glass.

"You report directly to me, Mark. No one else," he winks his eye.

"How long is this supposed to take?"

Peter shrugs his shoulders.

"Three, four months, maybe. Maybe more. Many things factor in in these kinds of deals."

I nod again.

Three months. Maybe more. Not nearly enough time to distract me from my obsession with Lydia.

Two fucking years weren't enough before this summer and we had only kissed once before that. I don't think any amount of time will ever be able to relieve the pain from the Lydia-shaped hole, gaping in my heart.

I've been sleepwalking through my life for the past two weeks. Acting like a lunatic, out of desperation.

I know she's been hiding at Alex's, I figured this much when I went back to Gloria's and she wasn't there, and she wasn't back at my place, or at her dad's either. And even though Alex has been denying it, I can see past her trying to conceal her friend.

Alex has never been good at lying.

I've tried everything that I could think of to draw her out. I even wrote her letters like a fucking six-grader. But I'd do anything if I thought it'd bring her back to me. I'd lie, manipulate, and use fraud if I thought it'd help.

And where has that ever gotten you, the small, treacherous voice in my head, which has been living there rent-free for the past two weeks, says. If I didn't know any better, I'd think I've finally grown a conscience.