Lola

Lola Part 4

'We need to get out of here.' She said, halfway through her burger.

Tonight I had managed to get out of the house for dinner. Lola had practically insisted I take her out, saying it'd be good for me. Rather than admitting to being anxious, I decided to just go, hoping I'd be distracted. So far, it wasn't working. People seemed to be staring at us, and I wasn't quite sure why. Maybe I was just being paranoid, although every time I looked towards the bar, the bartender was making direct eye contact with me, looking down at my arm, and back up.

Lola reached over and put her hands on mine, trying to claim my attention. I immediately moved them away, worried that people would misinterpret the gesture. She looked at me, confused, but concerned.

'What's wrong?'

I looked around once again, and tried to play more relaxed than I was, leaning back on the seat with ease.

'Nothing. It's all good. What were you saying about leaving?'

She raised one eyebrow, and leant forward on the table to put one hand under her chin.

'Living here is doing us no favours Mark. We need to move on. You need a new start. You can't be here forever - and you definitely can't continue living in the past. We can do it together, it'll be easy. Please.'

I didn't really know what to say to Lola. I had no desire to leave - believing firmly that I would be no happier anywhere else on earth. The apartment wasn't making me worse, I was. But I'd feel terrible saying no to Lola. She was trying her best, and I could see it.

'Where would we go?'

'Oh, we could go anywhere Mark.' She smiled dreamily, looking skyward as if experiencing some divine inspiration. 'I just want to hop on a train, or a bus, and see the world. This city is killing us, Mark. We can't be happy here.'

'How do you think we'll do it? I mean, we're not making a lot of money. And we still have a contract on the flat for another four months at least. It sounds difficult - I mean, we can't just leave that.'

She smiled gently at me. 'This is why you hurt - you're too focused on real life and its consequences. Didn't you have dreams once too? We could hitchhike, or go on the train; and the rent? If we're gone, and nobody knows where we are, what can they do? We're not gonna pay rent if we're not living there.' Without a thought for what I'd said merely minutes ago, she grabbed my hands and clasped them so firmly I couldn't even try to move away. 'Mark, I'm scared to be here. I'm terrified. I'm terrified that one day I could come home and you might be- you might...' She choked up, not even daring to finish her sentence. But I knew how it would have ended.

In part, she was right. I hated her worrying about me constantly. I was supposed to be her guardian, but most of the time it felt like she was mine. I just wanted her to be happy, despite my issues - in fact, I felt as if they were exactly that, MY issues. I didn't blame her for involving herself. I just hated seeing her worried. I didn't really like the idea of just packing up and leaving, but the last thing I wanted to keep Lola here if she wasn't happy, if she was just constantly worrying. I decided to remain neutral for the time being. I held her hands tightly, and she looked up at me, lips quivering and tears in her eyes. I felt so sorry for Lola. With everything she had been through, and my struggles on top of that, it was only natural she'd want to escape. I thought about each word carefully before I said it, to make sure I was being realistic, but yet comforting enough for her.

'I guess I've had a lot on my mind recently, and sure, it'd be great to get away - but with everything going on with me, and the state that I'm in, I'm still not sure it'd do me any good. But-' She looked up at me, confused. 'It'd be good for you. You need a break. So I'm gonna take a night to think about it. We'll have to make sure we've got a bit of money first if we do go. But it's certainly possible. How does that sound?'

She smiled, and came round to my side of the table to wrap her arms around me.

'That's all I wanted to hear.'

We paid for our meal, and Lola took my hand as we walked back to the apartment. It got late, and Lola was tired, so I put her to bed, insisting that tomorrow would be a better day. This time, I could say that with complete honesty.

Once I was sure she was asleep, I grabbed a few suitcases from the closet and packed the essentials that we would need. Despite my emotional state, I felt that this may actually be a good idea - the distraction would help me deal with myself. There were obviously things I couldn't pack - sofas, the record player, so I had to be efficient in my selection. I was sure, however, that Lola would be happy to leave behind whatever we had to.

When I had finished packing, I took the suitcases and put them by her door so she would see them when she woke up. Satisfied, I went back to the kitchen, and poured a drink. I cheered to our happiness, and went to bed filled with more hope than I felt in years. It was time for change.