Never Seen Anything Quite Like You Too (A The Script Fan-fiction)

17) I'm only a phone call away

I didn't want to leave the house at all. I'm in my own bubble of guilt, shame, despair and embarrassment. My Mother had lost her life because I had caused so much stress for her. By leaving her and trying to live a life she didn't want me to live. I can see how anyone would continually fret about that. So, because I was in my own little bubble I phoned Glen.

"Hello?" His Irish voice came through the speakers.

I stuttered and I wasn't sure what to say. I hadn't given him my number because I didn't know whether it was the right thing to do or not.

"Hello? Anybody there?"

So now he's probably thinking that either someone has phoned the wrong number or it's someone prank calling him.

"Ok. I'm going to hang up now. Don't phone unless you actually want to say something to me," he said with a tinge of annoyance in his voice.

"It's Siena!" I blurted.

There was a few seconds pause where I tried to collect my harsh breathing and calm my beating heart that was trying to push its way out if my chest.

"Siena?" Glen asked.

"Yes?"

"Oh it is you," Glen said and I wrinkled my nose slightly.

"What made you think it wasn't me?"

"Mark prank called me the other day and put on a higher pitch voice trying to persuade me it was you who was calling me," Glen answered.

"I'm guessing it didn't work,"

"Ha. No. Especially seeing as his number came up on my caller ID," Glen said whilst laughing.

His laugh was well and truly infectious. So much so that I could only laugh along with him. Oh it feels good to laugh. It's like a little smudge of happiness has been added to a painting and it changes the whole perspective of the picture.

"So why is it you called? Do you need me or do you just wanna chat?" Glen asked.

You know what I said about happiness? Forget that. Some evil painter has gone over that tiny smudge with a few layers of black paint. One layer wasn't enough; the painter wanted to be sure that the smudge of happiness wouldn't return.

"Um," I stuttered.

"Um what?" Glen asked.

"I need you,"

"What for?"

"Help,"

"For what?"

"Something I can't say on the phone,"

"Ok. Where are you?"

"At home,"

"Can we meet somewhere? Maybe your hut and we can talk there?"

I shook my head. He doesn't understand. Nobody understands.

"Siena?" Glen asked.

Oh shit. I forgot he can't see me and therefore my shake of the head would have done jack shit in that circumstance.

"Can you come to mine please?" I asked.

"Um Siena?" Glen asked.

"Uh huh?"

"That's all well and good but-"

"But what?"

"I don't know where you live do I? You're so reserved," Glen said.

"Go to the market hut and I shall give you directions from there," I said.

"Ok. I shall see you soon then Siena," Glen said and hung up.

I threw my phone to the other side of the sofa. Nothing I will say will get through to him anyway. Now I have invited him into my house where he can have a look at what matters to me most and get an inside picture of what I am like and I still know practically nothing about him.

My stomach rumbled slightly but I put it off. I'm not eating until after I see Glen. I can't eat until I see him. I can't do anything until he tells me what I am dying to hear. I cannot go on without this.

Look at me. What a pathetic shrivelled up piece of garbage I am. No one deserves me an my mother found out the hard way. She paid the ultimate price for my wrongdoings. That's not something I can just up and say 'ever so sorry about that. Can we start again?" She's dead. Gone. She's gone into another realm. I cannot contact her ever again and I so wish I could. I so wish that it is possible. At least then I can say sorry. That I'm sorry for leaving her. That I'm sorry I gave her the hardest daughter to ever bring up. I'm sorry that I stressed her out so much. I'm sorry that you didn't even get to have grandchildren because I'm such a lost cause and I don't even deserve children. I'm sorry that you didn't live until you were in your nineties. I'm sorry that you have had one heck of a shite life these past thirty two years.

My phone rang and interrupted my thought processes. I gingerly picked it up and looked at the name who was calling. Glen. I answered with a 'are you there?'

'I am at the hut. Where now?" He asked.

'Walk down the road until you see a large tree that's blossoming in a front garden," I directed.

I heard his own footsteps and the wind battering his hands and phone.

"Okay. Blossoming tree. I see it. Now where?"

"Take a left down the little alleyway and turn right at the end and you will find another street. I'm number 106," I said.

"Right on it," he said and hung up.

So this is it. Soon my little bubble will be punctured and I will have to let it all out. I need to let it all out to him for him to give me what I need. I absolutely hate cause and effect sometimes, I really do.

There was a knock on my door a few minutes later and I heaved myself up from the sofa and dragged my feet across the carpet. I unlocked the door and opened it slightly to see Glen's face peering down at me.

"I'm here," he said.

I nodded and opened the door to let him in. He smiled in thanks and I stepped aside. He came in and stood uncomfortably in the hallway.

"I think I would have preferred to meet at your but if I'm honest. Mutual ground," he said.

"My hut is my ... Third home. So it's not mutual ground really," I argued.

He smiled again.

"Fair enough. So where's your second home?"

"Here,"

That confused him. The smile he wore had that crooked sensation to it which meant that he was thoroughly confused.

"The studio being my first home," I explained further.

He grinned at that point and as I turned around to shut the front door, the heating is on and I can't bear to stand with the front door open and the cold air stealing all the work that my good friend the boiler and my good friends the radiators are doing now, he said:

'We may have more in common than we first thought.'

I turned around and smiled at him but my smile was snatched away practically as soon as it was painted into my face.

"So why did you ask me to come here then?" He asked.

"Um," I started.

A/N: Okay I am sorry for the short chapter. Big news. I've entered the watties beginners luck choice for 2014. I am definitely a beginner on this site so I would love all the help I could get. It's the votes that count so tell your followers that a Script fanfic is going to be added into the mix. Vote. Comment. Do as you please. Thanks.