invisible string

v. reckoning

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ BELLY ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

When I come to, it's with the groggy, hungover sensation of not knowing time, place, or name. I drape an arm over my face to hide from the sunlight and pray that if I keep still the nausea will subside. I don't want to think about where I am, or why I'm here, or any of it. I just want to be asleep again.

I wake again to the smell of coffee and bacon. It's a weird combination of delicious and nauseating. I hide my head in the sofa cushions. I hear footsteps and then feel someone nudging me with their foot.

"Hey," Stephen kicks me again. "Get up."

I voice my discontentment with another groan and sit up. He hands me a glass of water, holding it an extra second to make sure it's steady in my hand before letting go. After I've taken a few sips, he hands me a pill for my head.

"Thank you," I croak.

"Whatever. Eat something."

Stephen heads back into the kitchen and Shayla leans across the kitchen counter to whisper something to him. He laughs and I can hear the teasing through the open door. I smile. And then I see Jeremiah. He's fresh out of the bathroom, towel around his neck and his hair dripping wet onto his fresh clothes. I take the opportunity to look at him in secret, the curls against the nape of his neck, and where his shirt still sticks to his skin. He's tanned by the sun. And then he turns, as though feeling my gaze and looks at me. As his head turns the planes of his cheekbones catch the light and I see faint traces shimmer in the light. Glitter. My heart jumps into my throat, and it's choking me. I look away, and keep my gaze down. It's quiet for a moment and then I hear footsteps as he passes into the kitchen. I count down from ten and then force myself to follow.

Nicole passes me a plate of eggs and bacon and Shayla presses a mug of black coffee into my hand. I sit on the counter and Jeremiah automatically pours almond milk into my coffee, exactly how I like it. It's so normal. I do everything I can to ignore it. Taylor catches my eye from across the room, and gives me a look, and I know she knows something is wrong. I shake my head softly hoping no one notices. Everyone has similar loaded plates and large tumblers of water. There's soft pop music playing in the background, and all through breakfast that's pretty much the only noise. Everyone looks half dead, although Shayla and Nicole are faring much better than the rest of us. I see their neat hair and fresh faces and am suddenly distinctly aware of how unshowered I am. I put aside my plate, and finish off my coffee, hopping down from the counter.

"I'm gonna head back, I need to shower."

Jere's head snaps up and I force myself not to meet his eyes.

"You can shower here if you want," Nicole offers, and I force a smile and shake my head.

"I need fresh clothes."

"And a toothbrush." Stephen adds.

I flip him off.

"We should all head back. Give us ten?" Shayla checks her phone, sweeping her hair off her neck with one hand as she checks the quickest way back, and Stephen's smile falters a little. Nicole and I share a look and I really smile, for a moment, and then I see Jeremiah again. 

▬▬▬▬▬▬ JEREMIAH ▬▬▬▬▬▬

It's not until the door clicks behind them, that I can finally breathe again. Not until she's gone. But even without her in front of me, my mind is constantly replaying the look she had on her face when she found me, just like it has been all night. I haven't been able to sleep. I keep trying to think of why I did it. Running through the events just before. Conrad walking up. Her letting him. Leaving. I remember walking back in, and knowing that was it. That no matter how close we came, Conrad would always pull her back in. That I couldn't keep doing this. I remember standing at the bar, downing a shot, and feeling a hand on my back. A girl, blonde and glittered, sparkling. She said something I didn't hear, and then laughed and took hold of my hand, dragging me onto the dance floor. She started to dance, and I just stood there. I couldn't look at her, and I couldn't look at the stairs, just waiting for Bells to come back, so I just focused on picking out faces in the crowd. Every time I felt my gaze being pulled towards the stairs, I dragged it back, picking out another face to focus on. The girl nudged me, and leaned close, yelling something in a language I didn't understand.

"Sorry?"

She went up on her tiptoes, pressing a hand against my chest so she could put her mouth close to my ear and said, "So sad." And then she was kissing me. She was kissing me and I let her. I could hardly think straight. It's like I wasn't there. I could barely feel her. She kissed me, and kissed me, and it was like every kiss I'd ever had. I wished it was Belly. I took her by her arms and removed her as gently as I could.

"I'm sorry." I said.

And then I turned into the crowd and ran. I had to find Belly. It didn't matter that she was with Conrad. It didn't matter that it would always be Conrad. It didn't matter that it would never be me. All that mattered was what she said. "I didn't think it was right." That was all I could think of. That and the way her hair looked after she'd been in the sea, and the freckles that crawled up her arms after sitting in the summer sun, and her coconut smell, and her sitting in the driver seat of my car with the windows down, cheering everytime she got another thing right. All of her. That was what mattered. Her.

And there she was, knocked down, and I ran to her, before she could get trampled in the crowd, pulling her up.

"Belly!"

"Jeremiah! I was looking for you!"

She was looking for me. I felt like I was flying. She had been looking for me. I wanted to pick her up right then and run out of the bar and into the sea and kiss her and kiss her and kiss her. I felt like I could. Like I could do anything. And then her face fell. She was looking at me, but not into my eyes, at my skin. Her eyes running down the side of my face, my neck, my collarbone. Her face crinkled like she might cry, and she pulled back from me.

"Belly?" I said.

I still didn't understand what was happening. Didn't realise the marks across my skin, and what they said to her. I was too caught up in how she had been looking at me just before, on how to get that back. She looked sick.

"Yo," Steven's standing at my door. "Nicole's making us all pack before we go to the beach."

"Okay." I can't look at him, either.

"You all good?"

No.

"Yeah. Hungover."

"You gotta learn to handle your drink, man." Steven laughs, and heads to his room. I can hear them all as they open up their rucksacks and sort through their closets, the buzz of the zips and the clacking of the hangers, but it feels so far away. I'm still there. On that dance floor. Watching her run from me.