Take Me Back

Chapter 4

My hand trembled as I picked up the phone.

One ring. Two rings. I thought to myself that maybe I should try again later.

Then she answered.

"Hello?"

My mouth felt dry, "Hey is this Kayla?"

"Speaking"

"Hi it's Jace" there was a pause, I could feel her struggling to place me, "From Jonathan's party?"

"Oh hey!" a minor recognition and my heart soared, "What's up dance partner?"

"Well I was just wondering if you'd like to grab a drink some time?"

"...oh"

Fuck, oh, oh was bad right?

"Oh? Jeez this is going to brutal isn't it?"

"Its just. I would love to but..." she paused.

Shit.

"But?"

"I just got out of a serious relationship and I'm not sure if I'm ready to start something"

"Ah"

I could work with that.

"Yeah"

"Hey it's one drink, not a marriage proposal"

"Just one?"

"I promise, no pressure. Plus you're yet to see my sweet breakdancing"

"Well I can't decline that invitation can I?"

"So Rob's Bar eight o'clock tomorrow?"

"See you then, bring you're best moves"

"Consider them brought"

oOo

I was relieved when I got back to the flat I shared with Jamie and all the lights were off. Despite a nap and several strong cups of coffee, I could already feel the hangover setting in. A confrontation with the she demon would only add to the pain.

I cursed as my head began to throb. It turned out that my recollection of being impervious to hangovers at age twenty was completely false.

Jonathan had spent much of the day filling in the blanks for me. It was such a strange experience for someone to recap your life for you; who I was speaking with, who I wasn't, the classes I was taking and the status of my relationship with Jamie all made the highlights reel. Things I hadn't thought about in years that were now my present once again.

It transpired I was in my second year of university. My course load was dense so my parents were mostly supporting me and from what I could remember my mother was still doing my shopping and laundry too. I had essentially reverted back to a dependant man-child, though with the mess my life was, it was a relief that money wasn't a concern.

It was also strange to be educated on my relationship status. I had forgotten about the nights I had shown up at Jonathan's house begging for an escape from Jamie and I was informed that those late night visits had been becoming more frequent. I remembered breaking up with her in January so it seemed I had two agonising months to go.

My first instinct was to break up with her right away, to drop the façade and just get on with the inevitably nasty break up that was to come but at the same time, I didn't know how much it would affect my future.

I crept into the house and found Jamie asleep in my bed.

Well, 'our' bed I guess.

I peered at her from the doorway. It was so strange to see her lying there, curled in the fetal position of what would eventually become my side of the bed. Looking at her eyes shut, with her wide mouth slightly parted I could almost remember what it was like to actually like the girl. It begged the question; could I really do this to her?

I mean in the end she turned out to be mental but I had already spent our relationship the first time round pretending to be something I wasn't, leading her to believe there was future that was never going to eventuate. I knew that despite the hell she put me through when we broke up, she didn't deserve to be led on. I didn't love her and it just felt wrong to pretend to.

She began to stir and I retreated from the doorway, closing it as quietly as I could.

From memory, this was the calm before the storm. The voice laced with concern before she set fire to my Taking Back Sunday T-shirt while accusing me of sleeping with every girl in a five mile radius.

I made my way back out to the living room, the couch to become my bed for the indefinite future, knowing that tomorrow I would have to explain why I didn't want to share our bed but hoping, so damn much, that the next morning I would wake up and everything would be ok again.

oOo

That night, like most nights, I dreamt of Kayla.

There was no real narrative, just a whirl of her little habits that made her who she was, all the reasons that I was so completely in love with her.

It was her laugh that would descend into a snort when she found something hilarious, or the roll of her eyes when Jonathan would sweet talk her into going out with him on a work night, when she would only pretend she really didn't want to go. The tendency to throw things when she was angry because she struggles to make a coherent sentence when she's past the point of rage and the cheeky smile when she tries to distract me from work. I loved her for the wide-eyed and worried look she would give every time she told me she loved me, like for some reason I wouldn't say it back.

When I woke up the next morning it was the longest I had gone without speaking to her since we had met and I had never felt so alone. When the early morning sun filtered through the window and I was still on my old, uncomfortable blue couch, I knew that any risks relating to Kayla were ones worth taking. Even if it meant prematurely removing Jamie from my life.

I buried my face back into my pillow, praying for a few more hours sleep before the yelling started, more at peace than I had been in 24 hours.

I was going to find her.