Moving On

Moving On (11)

Chapter Eleven

Vincent has disappeared. I don’t know where to and I don’t know why or how, but I haven’t seen him for three whole days. He’s an ass, but I think I kind of miss him. Is that normal? I hope so, because I’d hate it if I felt weird things about him when I probably shouldn’t.

I tried contacting him, too. I called his cellphone, texted him, left 23 voicemails. Both the texts and voicemails threatened him that if he didn’t get back in touch with me soon I would never talk to him again.

Threat, my left foot. He probably wouldn’t care if I never talked to him again. Actually, rewind that, I’m not sure whether he would care or not. He’s weird like that. Or maybe I’m weird. I can’t tell.

I asked Dani if she knew where the hell he disappeared to but she was unsure of his whereabouts, too. The most she could do was give me his address. So I decided, what the hell, maybe I should just go to his house and threaten to kill him if he didn’t respond to my many efforts of contacting him.

Which brings me to now. I was standing outside of Vincent’s house, no, wait, let me rephrase that, his mansion, and I was gaping at the size and beauty of it, wondering why the hell Vincent always came to my stupid, old apartment when he could easily invite me over to his residence. Stupid, selfish Vincent.

I considered turning right back around and leaving because knowing Vincent, he would probably pass an ignorant comment about how I missed him so much that I trudged all the way to his place to see him. It was true, but I would not appreciate if he did that. I’d just kick him in his face and say, “Peace out, bro.”

But then again, I’d hate to wait in my apartment for days, checking my phone every next minute to see if replied or not. That would be beyond horrible.

So I pressed the button on the intercom. I was expecting a voice to ask me of my details, but instead the large, black gates opened with a magnificent beauty. I walked up the marble pathway, envying every second because Vincent had the glory of living in such a wonderful home.

The doors to the mansion were open, and I was unsure whether I should step in right away, or call for someone. I had a small fear that if I stepped in without asking, they’d think I was a burglar and throw me in jail.

Not that I wouldn’t love being given free food for a while, but sitting behind bars wasn’t exactly my perception of living an ideal life.

Before I could open my mouth to call out for someone, I heard a voice from inside. “Come in,” it said.

I couldn’t recognize the voice, but I listened to its instructions. I took small, cautious steps, just in case a crazy axe murderer was inside, ready to behead me as soon as I crossed the threshold.

But it wasn’t a crazy axe murderer that had invited me inside. It was Levi Nicholls.

I instantly frowned. Just looking at him made me remember the stupid date we had at The Chocolate Room.

“Chill, Alia. I’ve changed, I promise.” Levi held up his hands in a sort of ‘I surrender’ gesture, but I needed more than that to forgive him.

“Where’s Vincent?” I asked, ignoring Levi’s apology.

Levi sighed, and understanding that I wasn’t ready to forgive him yet, he pointed upstairs. “Last door on the left,” He said simply.

I nodded seriously and made my way upstairs, deciding I had acknowledged Levi’s presence for more than enough time.

Instead of knocking on the door like a sensible person, I barged right in. If Vincent could invade my privacy, then I could do the exact same to him.

Vincent glanced up in surprise from the slam of the door as it banged against the wall. He was leaning against the headboard of the bed, his long legs stretched out in front of him.

“Alia?” He asked, as if he was surprised to see me. I thought he’d expect to see me, but apparently I’m not nice enough in his eyes.

“Where the hell have you been, Vincent? You’re just gonna disappear like that without warning anyone? What am I supposed to think, huh? What if you got run over by a horse in a horse race? Or what if you got jumped by some mobsters and got tied to the railroad to get run over by a train? Why won’t you respond to any of my texts, my voicemails, my calls—is that your phone in your hand?”

Vincent gulped, knowing he had been caught. The sly monkey was ignoring my calls on purpose. How dare he do such a thing to Alia Staugh?

“You effing asshole!” I cried, and lunged at him from the ground. It was like a scene in Discovery Channel. You know, when the lioness leaps angrily onto the poor little deer? Yeah, I was the lioness and Vincent was the stupid deer that didn’t have enough common sense to try and escape.

I got a hold of his collar and I started to punch Vincent wherever I could reach. How dare he ignore my calls? I was so worried about him! I had run here like a stupid girl, hoping that nothing had happened to him, and here he was, listening to music, pretending that I had not wasted my time trying to contact him for ages.

“Alia! Alia, stop! I’m sorry, okay?” Vincent yelled, prying my fingers off of his wrist.

I finally calmed down and moved off of the bed. I shook my head sadly and turned around, not wanting to look at Vincent. “And to think I had run here thinking you had died or something. Whatever, Vincent. I’m going.” I muttered, and started to walk towards the door.

“Oh, I see how it is. When you do it to your best friend, it’s all okay, but when I do it to you, it’s suddenly a big crime? Stop being a hypocrite, Alia,” Vincent said rudely.

I flipped my head around so fast that I wondered whether I moved a bone in my neck. “You’re comparing your position to mine? Are you serious?” I yelled. “You don’t have any right to compare yourself to me. Got that?” I pointed at him angrily. He was really starting to piss me off now.

“Have you ever stopped and thought about why I’m ignoring your calls? What if there’s something bad happening in my life? How could you just think about yourself, and not about how I feel right now?” Vincent asked me, his eyebrows scrunching together.

“What is this problem anyway, that’s making you compare yourself to me? Why do you feel the need to alienate yourself from everyone else? Hmm? Your dog died? Or your fish? Or your hamster? Is that it?” I prodded, my words dripping with sarcasm. I shook my head, disgusted at his actions.

“I don’t have a dog. Or a fish, or a hamster. But I do have a mom. Or at least, I used to.” Vincent muttered, avoiding my eyes. And ladies and gentlemen, I have landed myself in a whole bunch of poop once again.

Congratulations, Alia, for being a big, fat, selfish bitch, once again. I should give myself an award. Or maybe I should kill myself for being so inconsiderate. I think I’ll go with the second option. Let me go find a metal pot to bash my head in with.