California Dreaming

Chapter Eleven

   I stuffed some books into my locker, stacking them along the top shelf, before slamming the door shut and hurrying after Leila and Henry, throwing my school bag over one shoulder. Henry hung an arm around my shoulder and I lent my head against his muscular shoulder as we headed towards the canteen. I stopped by the doorway as I felt my phone ringing and ushered the others to go inside and grab us some seats. I rummaged through my bag until I grabbed the phone, pressing the accept button nervously. 

   “Hello?” I whispered. 

   “Hey! Where are you guys?” I let out a sigh of relief, “Jia?” Gabriel asked. 

   “Yes, hi, we’re just in the canteen,” I replied, grinning, “how was the dentist?” 

   “Fine, I’ll be there in five okay? Grab me something to eat, something high in sugar and terribly synthetic.” 

   “Okay,” I giggled, “love you,” I blew him a kiss down the phone. 

   “Love you too,” he chuckled, hanging up the call. There was a new message flashing on the screen from a withheld number and I opened it curiously, a little anxious. 

   “Jia, I miss you, I miss your green eyes, your long hair. I miss that freckle you have on your left thigh. More than anything, I miss the smell of your blood as it spilled out onto your kitchen floor :)x.” 

   I stared at it, unsure of whether to be petrified, or just sympathetic to the fact that he was so obviously psychotic. I knew it, I believed with all of my heart that there was something very, very wrong with him, something which couldn’t be fixed with medication or therapy. He was delusional if he thought he was going to scare me like this again, I wouldn’t let it get to me. 

   I typed in Harry’s phone number and pressed the call button, holding the handset to my ear and hoping he would pick up quickly, so I wouldn’t chicken out. The ringing stopped and all I could hear was his heavy breathing on the other end of the line, followed by a slow, graduating chuckle. It wasn’t light and carefree like Gabriel’s, it sent shivers running up my spine, it was twisted. 

   “What the hell are you playing at?” I snapped. 

   “I want you, isn’t that clear?” 

   “Well, that’s a shame then Harry because I have a boyfriend,” I knew saying that would aggravate him. However well he seemed to know me, how to make me scared or how to make me cry, I can promise you that I knew him better. 

   “YOU FUCKING SLUT, I’M SURPRISED ANYONE WOULD WANT TO BE WITH YOU THE WAY YOU WALK ABOUT WITH YOUR LEGS OPEN YOU WORTHLESS WHORE.” The yelling didn’t bother me, his violent tone was easy to dismiss, but it was the way his voice had altered so extraordinarily. It made it even more blatant that he was clinically insane and this is what frightened me the most. 

   “Well, I learnt from the best,” I retorted, prompting the same, growing chuckle. 

   “You were always good at comebacks, weren’t you JiJi,” he was using the tone of voice he would use when we were together, his sane voice. 

   “Don’t call me that.” 

   “I can call you whatever the fuck I want.” 

   “You gave up that right when I broke up with you, when you pushed that knife deep into my stomach.” 

   “You never broke up with me, this is never over,” he laughed. 

   “No, Harry,” I said patronizingly. “I dumped you, you must remember that day, right? It was pretty memorable, it would be hard to forget,” I teased and he had nothing to respond with, no clever comeback or witty remark. 

   I was sitting in the park under one of the huge willow trees, the light peeking through the finger-like branches. The sky was dim and grey and rain was spattering down over the reservoir, causing ripples to spread over the water’s surface. This had always been our place, where we would meet and kiss and make love, that one time. He sat down besides me and smiled, brushing his dark hair from his eyes. 

   “Hey beautiful,” he beamed. I looked up at him but couldn’t bring myself to smile. 

   “Hi, Harry,” I sighed, and his expression faded as I looked out across the park, the rain hypnotizing. 

   “What’s wrong?” He stroked my flat, black hair behind one ear and my skin began to crawl as his skin touched mine. 

   “I can’t do this anymore, Harry, I really can’t,” I whispered. “I’m sorry.” 

   “No.” 

   “What do you mean, no?” I frowned, “Harry, you know this hasn’t been working between us!” 

   “Jia, we’re perfect for each other,” he looked me directly in the eye and I swear I saw the devil then, as he smiled. “You’re mine.” 

   “I’m not yours,” I argued, “I’m not anyone’s, I don’t belong to you, I’m not an object.” 

   “Oh come on, don’t be a bitch,” he squeezed my hand and I yanked it away angrily. 

   “Oh fuck off, Harry,” I rolled my eyes and stood up, beginning to walk away when he grabbed hold of my arm and shoved me against a tree. 

   “You leave when I tell you to,” he seethed and I gasped, trying to wriggle away from him, as he pinned my arms up against the rough bark. His hot, desperate lips were on my neck, on my unwilling lips. 

   “Harry!” I screamed, kneeing him in the crotch and watching him roll away from me. I kicked him in the stomach, just so he got the picture. 

   “We’re over. Don’t come near me ever again,” I ordered, storming off into the distance, leaving Harry flailing about in the rain. 

   “I told you then and I am telling you now. we’re over, there is no us, okay?” I said slowly, condescending. 

   “Jia, there will always be an us, we’ll always be together. This is just the way things are supposed to be, Jia and Harry, always Jia and Harry.” 

   “No, Harry, you don’t under-” 

   “OF COURSE I FUCKING UNDERSTAND. WE LOVE EACH OTHER, WE FUCKING LOVE EACH OTHER, JIA.” He screamed and I rolled my eyes this time, holding the phone away from my ear so as not to be deafened by the distorted noise. 

   “You’re crazy.” 

   “In love, yes.” 

   “If you call again I’ll call Rosie and she will tell her father who, as I’m sure you’re already aware of, is the chief of police.” 

   “Nothing can keep our love apart,” he persisted. 

   “Apart from a prison cell.” 

   “Nice one,” he laughed. 

   “Harry, all I want is for you to leave me the fuck alone,” I said, the intensity of the conversation making me weary. 

   “Jia,” he sighed, “now what would be the fun in that?” 

   “I hate you,” I said plainly, disconnecting the call and turning off my phone, removing the batter and the sim card, stuffing them all into my bag. I felt as though I needed a shower then, just to get rid of the grime and the dirt he had spat at me through the receiver, just to let the steam wash away the happy memories I had of him.