Young Adult

Chapter thirteen - James Wood

"Addy?" My ex boyfriend called my name, my fists clenched by instinct, the last time I saw him he had his hands all over my best friend.

He's the last person I want to see right now, but he seems delighted to see me for some reason, I moved my wrist as he still was holding it.

"It is you!" He chirped before seeing my angered expression and turning back into a puppy that knows they did something wrong. "I've wanted to talked to you since that night, but I searched everywhere for you and I couldn't find you. Do you mind if we go speak somewhere, I want to explain things finally."

I took a deep breath in, I want to know why he did that but I also want to punch his face every time he speaks, I guess the best thing to do right now is to agree.

"Fine as I'm on my lunch break, but if I leave you can't follow me." He nodded as we headed over to that cafe I was headed to.

We both awkwardly sat down opposite eachother, surprisingly a lot of people in there were staring at us and whispering. I turned over to look at him "are you famous or something? Everyone in here is looking at you."

James looked at me in surprise "you don't know?" I looked at him dumbfounded, as if I should know everything about his life.

I guess he took my angry expression as a no as he replied without any spoken answer, "the music thing took off after a while and I'm kind of famous now. I guess might you might not know who I am as I have a stage name, have you heard of the artist Freddy Vale? or Fred Vale? I go by both of them I guess."

My jaw dropped to the floor, he was the musician that Lyn loves?!

James went on talking, "yeah after you left and I couldn't find you, I wrote all of my feelings into songs and after singing them at clubs some executive hired me and that album about you became famous." He meekly added.

"So what's happened with you for the past six years?" He added once more. That sentence pierced into my heart, if I told him about my amnesia he would take that as me wanting to get close again, but if I told him a lie and we see each other more at work he might find the truth and think that I could hide feelings onwards him aswell.

I decided to go for the second option "I moved to England, I decided after that night I wanted to start over with life and decided not to go to Yale. I travelled for a year before going to university, then I got a job and I recently transferred to LA." I partially lied, I mean technically some of that did happen.

"I'm sorry, if it wasn't because of me you would've went to your dream school..." I huffed, my decision had nothing to do with him, I didn't even know who he was!

I interrupted him "it had nothing to do with you, if anything I'm thankful, if I went to Yale I would still be surrounded by the same soul sucking people." We both sat in silence until I decided to stop dancing around the topic that was lingering over us.

"Why did you do that to me?" He looked at me in shame, "I thought about having to answer that question everyday for the past six years, and the answer I keep coming back to is just that I'm an asshole. I was getting ready for a show that night and Charlotte came into the back room and began talking to me."

He sighed again once more before continuing the story "she asked me why I would be with you even though you saw me as an interesting hobby and how we didn't have no future. I guess I knew that her words were the truth but when I snapped out of it to tell her to go away she was already kissing me... I should've pushed away straight away, but I kissed her back. I'm so sorry I did that to you, I understand if you want to hurt me like I hurt you then."

Up until just then I wanted to punch him or make his life miserable, but when he said those words my anger subdued. He just seemed pathetic, a boy tormented by his own fragile ego; I shouldn't waste my time on that.

I huffed "don't worry, I'm over it now, it's been six years now. I just don't want to see you again." I replied as I got up to leave, but James held onto my wrist again, "wait a minute", he began rustling around his backpack before handing me a cd.

"I've been holding onto this for five years now incase I ever met you again, it's my first album I produced. Even if we never see each other again can you listen to it? I wrote it for you." I took the cd and left without saying goodbye.

I texted Mr Reed when I was back on the street saying that I was taking a vacation day, even though I want nothing to do with him now I should atleast listen to his hard work.