Examine

seventeen

MICHAEL

Nine years earlier

"Another beer?" Jason asks, already pressing a cold one into my hand.

I half-heartedly shake my head but end up unscrewing the cap and taking a sip.

"That's it," Jason laughs, slapping me on the shoulder. "Aren't you glad finals are over?"

"Fucking oath." I tip my beer in agreement.

My eyes are tracking the party around us, people are in small groups spilling out of the house and into the backyard and into the garage where we're standing. The music is loud in the space we are in, some electronic shit that Marcus is into. Point is, I have to focus intently on someone's lips if they try and talk to me.

A shimmering bob of blonde hair cuts into my vision, and my ears grow deaf to whatever Jason is droning on about as I recognise the petite figure moving in my direction.

Isla.

I gulp down more of the beer I'm holding before it occurs to me to escape. I turn toward Jason, preparing an excuse, but then she's right in front of me.

And I'm focusing intently on her lips to hear her say, "I thought you'd be here."

She smiles bewitchingly, and Jason glances between the two of us. 

"I thought you two broke up?"

She's still smiling. "We did, I just wanted to speak to Michael."

"Uh, I'll go grab you another beer," Jason says, and I hand him the empty one in my grasp and murmur my thanks. My head spins slightly. I drank that one faster than ever. Since I rarely drink, I'm a massive lightweight.

As soon as Jason is out of earshot, which is basically as soon as he steps away, Isla narrows her eyes at me. "You've been avoiding me."

She sounds hurt.

"I thought that would be best." I shrug my shoulders uncomfortably. "To give you space and all."

"I don't need space," Isla says with a smile. "Did I tell you about my new boyfriend, Andrew?" She looks over her shoulder. "He's here somewhere."

I don't know how to respond to that statement, let alone how to feel. Am I meant to be jealous? But all I feel is relief that she's moved on, and slightly sad that it took her so little time to find someone new. So, it seems like I do have an ego after all.

"Good for you," I say, forcing my facial muscles into a smile. It's a pathetic attempt really.

I'm not happy that she managed to ruin me and skip over to someone else, while I'm still a shuddering mess. I can't even look at another girl without wondering if it will still be the same overdependent, emotional wreck that we had. It felt like every day of us was a rollercoaster, and a blame game of who's fault it was. And every other day Isla would find satisfaction in hurting me in order to prove that I still needed her.

"Don't look so put out Michael, I still think you're attractive."

"You do?" I'm so many levels of confused right now.

"We could kiss if you want to?" she asks, a mischievous smile still glimmering on her lips. Her hair is different, she cut it short.

What the hell is going on?

I feel like I'm wading through sludge, trying to understand this conversation, too many steps behind, trapped in a hell of my own making. 

Like most relationships, Isla and mine wasn't all bad.