Coming Home

Chapter 3

I put the beers down on the sticky table and slid one over to Alex as I took the seat opposite his lanky body. He grabbed the beer, took a swig from it, clearly waiting for me to speak first. I noticed a silver bracelet around his wrist.

"You really still have that?" I asked him with a raised eyebrow.

He looked at his wrist, "Of course! I wear it every day. It's special to me"

I rolled my eyes at him, "Al, what exactly are you doing here?" I finally asked him with a heavy sigh.

"Missed the place," he shrugged and looked around, "It looks....different somehow. You look different too - you had a haircut," he said and pointed to my hair.

"I've had like a million of them," I rolled my eyes at him.

"It's not just the hair, though..." he said, ignoring my annoyed facial expression, "you look almost grown up."

"A lot happens in six years, you know," I said, ice in my voice.  I was aware that I had lost my puppy weight, my face had slimmed and my 'new' hairstyle accentuated that. "You look like the villian in some Disney movie where the hero is a dog," I said without moving as much as a muscle that could indicate a smile.

He shot his head back with a hearty laugh, "funny you should mention it because that's exactly the look I was going for. Is it the hair?" He asked and pulled at his quiff.

I nodded. Fuck I hated that quiff. He looked nothing like the Alex I had known when I was younger. Nothing like my Alex. My Alex was scrawney, had messy hair, a cute voice, and absolutely no fashion sense. The complete opposite of the guy who was occupying the seat in front of me.

"Girls generally seem to like it," he shrugged, "says it makes me look bad - But then again, you never were just any girl," he smiled at me.

"What is that supposed to mean?" I asked him with a huff.

"You're....well, you're you. You're Issy."

I sighed. He had always had this way of describing me as if I wasn't aware that I was a tomboy. When we were kids he never seemed to care; he would pick me first in FIFA, challenge me to climb trees with him, bring me along with the rest of the boys. But it had all changed that horrendous night of Matt's party. Over six years had passed since then, and I still cringed at the mere thought of that incident. It had changed everything.

"Are you still angry with me?" Alex finally asked, his face had fallen into serious folds.

I almost choked on my beer as his blunt question had taken me aback. I knew one of us would have to bring the incident up eventually but was still surprised by how fast he wanted to get it out of the way.

I took a deep breath to keep my voice cool, calm, and collected, "I was angry at first. Now I don't really care about you anymore," I smiled sweetly.

He nodded slowly, "I saw your name in NME a few years ago. You're quite the music critic it seems. I've been holding an eye out for your career ever since and I must admit that I've been wondering why you have never reviewed any of my albums.."

"I don't review music that I know is shit beforehand."

"Ah, I see you're still the same hiphopper you were back in the days, huh? Still hate every guitar out there?"

The only guitar I ever hated was yours, I thought to myself. It had all gone to shit when his grandma had gotten him that stupid guitar for christmas. Ever since then it had been all about that stupid instrument and the lads.

"I saw a video of you online," he said, ignoring the fact that I hadn't answered his last question, "you were living it up to some song. Almost couldn't believe my eyes as Matt handed me the computer and I saw you working in here. That's how I knew where to find you."

"Alright," I said uninterested, "But you still haven't told me what you're doing in Sheffield. I'm assuming you didn't exactly come back to see me."

"Well, to be honest, I'm here visiting mum and dad. It's been a while since I've been home."

"Oh, it's been a while, has it? That must be why you've never stopped by! Well, tell me Alex; has it been six years?" I asked him with a raised eyebrow.

"Not exactly...," he sighed, "Look, I wanted to see you, but you were so pissed off at me last time I saw you that I didn't know how you'd react if I suddenly showed up on your doorstep. My mum says that you stopped walking down their street when I moved away so I knew you were royally pissed for sure. I didn't want to take that away from you. Not when you had every right to be, afterall."

"What made you come here tonight then?"

"Matt's having a baby," he sighed.

"Matt as in Matthew Helders?" I gasped slightly. I had a hard time imagining the boy who used to cup his hand and fart in it before putting it up to our mouths was going to be someone's dad.

"That's the one," Alex sighed, "him and his girl, Breana, are constantly talking baby stuff and insurance and dying wills and it kinda made me think about stuff in my life. Unresolved matters and so on."

"And then you thought about me?" I scoffed, "I thought you already had resolved everything between us and that was why you chose to leave. That's what you said anyway."

Alex looked away from me. I knew that he was thinking of the same hurtful words that had been playing on repeat in my head ever since he had yelled them at me six years ago. The last words he had spoken to me before he had gotten into his uncle's big truck loaded with all his stuff for his new life in London 180 miles away from me.

"I've tried not to think about that," he said, embarrassement flooding his voice, "those words were a mistake and I regretted everything the moment I had gotten into the car. But by then I knew it was already too late."

"And what makes you think that it's the right time now?"

"Come on, Is...I'm trying to apologise here.."

"Yes, well you're six years too late for that. I won't allow you to walk into my life just as easily as you walked out. I don't need your apology anymore. I've moved on," the words weren't true. I hadn't moved on at all and it still ached everytime I heard his voice on the telly or on the radio. I always turned it off immediately. Apart from the fact that his career apparently was going brilliantly, I didn't know anything about his life and I was planning on keeping it that way. I would never allow him to break my heart again.

Alex looked at me with huge disappointed eyes. I could tell that this wasn't how he had imagined the night would go at all. I cleared my throat, "I have to go back to work now. Take care, Alex, alright?"

"I'll call you, yeah?" He said and shot me a half-assed smile.

"Please don't," I said and turned around before he could change my mind.

He sat alone in the booth without moving a muscle for about 15 minutes. I glanced over to him ever so often but he didn't look at me once. Finally, he got up, popped the collar of his leather jacket and walked out of the bar without looking at me. I preferred to keep it that way.

A girl who had just ordered a drink with me said, "I saw you sitting over there before. Do you really know Alex Turner?"

"No. No I don't"