Jason

It's Always Been You

I stared at the monitor, looking at my girl as she casually stepped out of the shower. Fuck, I wish I was there too; I thought to myself. I have never really been in love before, I've had crushes and fantasies about lots of different women, but no one has ever cast a spell over me like Meghan has. From the very first moment we met, and I saw her beautiful bright smile, I knew that she was the only woman for me. I kept trying to drop hints that I had feelings for her but she either didn't realise or she chose to take no notice; she was always bringing different men back to her apartment, and I had to just sit back and watch them whilst holding back the anger and resentment bubbling up inside me. What's wrong with me? This is a question I have always asked myself, I have never fitted in anywhere. School, work and even with my own family at times, I have always been the odd one out, the outcast. I feel like Edward Scissorhands, a walking freakshow. People say I'm weird and I've learnt to accept it, I'd rather be hated for who I am than loved for pretending to be something I'm not. With Meghan it was different, she didn't hate or berate me. She always showed me nothing but kindness and she was always friendly to me. Whenever she said that she needed me, I would always be there at the drop of a hat.
It all started when a mutual acquaintance of ours suggested that I could install some IT equipment into her apartment. After that first visit she kept on calling or texting asking me to come over to fix something or other, she could barely turn a laptop on which I found to be pretty adorable. One afternoon she confided in me that she got a part in a play and I was immensely proud of her. As soon as she left that day I booked as many tickets as I could on my mom's credit card. I was desperate to see her perform; she captivated me just by being in her presence and I knew that seeing her on stage would be magical and it sure was. Then one fateful night I watched her perform, and I just knew in my gut that something wasn't right. However, I sat back in my seat and just let what happened to her happen. I should have stepped in and I wished every day since then that I had done. A few days later the cops were all over my place and questioned my mom, who had no idea about what was going on between me and Meghan. It mortified me that they saw my bedroom with the pictures I had of her on my wall, I just couldn't help myself she's so beautiful. It's no different to me having posters of Pamela Anderson or Madonna on my wall, so I don't know why the cops made such a big deal over it. They took me in for questioning, that's when I found out that some disgusting scumbag raped the girl that I was in love with during that performance which left her terrified and completely violated. Right there and then I wanted to run out of there, find that son of a bitch and kill him with my bare hands. Meghan made it quite clear to me that she believed I was the one who attacked her, due to the surveillance that I installed into her apartment. The only reason I did it was because there are a lot of creeps out there, she's too trusting, so I was only watching to protect her. I hate to be the one to tell everyone this but I was right, wasn't I? I am no pervert, although the sight of her sexy body dripping with water after she was fresh out of the shower turned me on big time and I would often lay awake at night imagining what it would be like to make love to her. Thankfully, I was able to obtain an alibi for the night in question and they had to release me. After a few conversations from some mutual connections myself and Meghan had, I found out that they caught the rapist and it also transpired that her so called friend Holly orchestrated the whole thing. To say I was horrified would be an understatement, someone that is supposed to be your friend has violated and betrayed you in the most despicable way. All I wanted was to give Meghan a hug and let her know in spite of everything that I still loved and wanted to be there for her. Due to my arrest they warned me to have no further contact with her and to leave her be. It broke my heart, but I didn't want to end up in prison for a second time so I obeyed and went along with what they said. I went back to my lonely little existence in my own little world and life gradually went back to normal. Unfortunately, my mom passed away from cancer in the fall of that same year, she was only fifty-six years old. Yes, I was devastated but at the same time she held me back from so many things in my life, I always felt obliged to stay and look after her that I neglected my life and everything I wanted to achieve. My sister on the other hand flourished living with our father and his new wife, she confidently went off to university and became a med student, whilst I on the other hand barely scraped through college with a few good grades and somehow by some stroke of luck got a job working for an IT company. That said, everyone thinks I'm weird they should see Joanne, my sister, and her crazy obsession that there is some type of entity haunting the basement in our childhood home.

*****

"Son, you need to come and visit your sister. You have no idea how much she needs you right now," says my exasperated father. He has been on the phone to me for over an hour, Joanne has had another episode over the basement thing. Her boyfriend Adam came for an overnight stay and he quickly scarpered when he found out about her little phobia. She on the other hand is convinced that he has been in contact with whatever it is that's haunting the basement under the stairs and he's disappeared off the face of the earth. "Dad, I've got my own shit going on in my life. Besides, I haven't seen Joanne in a really long time. Why would she even want me there in the first place?" I ask irritably. "I don't know, maybe because you are her brother, and if you were in the same situation, I know that she would come running to you!" He exclaims as I hold the phone away from my ear. "Yeah, she takes after her father then doesn't she?" I respond sarcastically. "You little fuckwit, go to hell with your mother!" He screams and the line goes dead. I knew he wasn't going to like my response, but the truth of the matter is my sister despises me and the feeling is mutual. She's a spoilt rich kid and I'm the loser who is leading his simple life in front of a computer screen.
I'm sat in a packed Starbucks with my laptop, a cinnamon bun, and I'm casually sipping away at my salted Caramel Frappuccino, which is a little too salty for my liking. I'm just about to go over to the Jennifer Aniston lookalike at the counter when I feel a gentle tap on my shoulder blade.
"That sounded heated?" I hear a familiar sweet voice behind me, my heart skips a beat, it's her. "How are you?" I turn in her direction and my intuition was correct, it's Meghan. Fuck, I knew I should have changed my hoodie this morning. It's still stained all down the front from the chilli tomato soup I had for lunch yesterday, I must look like a right scruff in front of her. "I should go," I reply in haste as I go to quickly pack up my things. "No, don't," she says softly as she gently sweeps her hand across mine, sending shivers down my spine. It's been so long since I've seen her, let alone had any sort of physical contact with her and it feels good, really good. "I wanted to say I'm sorry," she says, looking up at me remorsefully. "It's fine," I respond nervously, unable to give her any sort of eye contact. "We used to be friends," she says, and it looks as though she's trying to hold back tears. "I know we did, but it's better this way. I didn't like being accused of something that I never in a million years would do to you. How could you even think that I could do such a thing?" I ask her, desperate for an answer. "I had no idea who would want to do something like that to me. You don't understand how it's affected me, my health, my career, my relationships and my trust in people. The police said that you had pictures of me all over your bedroom, is that true?" She quizzes me. "No! They must have just told you that to get a conviction, you know what cops can be like. Most of them are bent anyway," I say, trying to sound convincing. She turns away from me, looking uncomfortable. She's wearing a black leather jacket that has a loose belt around the waist, a navy blue Ben Solo t-shirt, a grey ripped denim skirt and black converse. A simple outfit, yet she looks absolutely divine and I realise that she still has the power to captivate me like she always has done. "I just wanted to apologise to you. I don't intentionally mean to sound like I'm giving you the third degree. I just want you to know that I don't hate you, I still like you very much," she says as she gives me a small smile. My stomach is swarming with thousands of butterflies, she still likes me, did I hear that right? I didn't think she liked me in the first place, I feel special. "Really?" I ask meekly. "Yes, do you want to have a coffee with me and we can catch up?" She smiles at me with her perfect white teeth. I am so excited, I can't miss out on this golden opportunity. She has no idea how much I have longed and ached for this, I need to show her that I can be normal and I'm not some weirdo like the cops portrayed me to be. "Sure, take the seat opposite me. Cold brew coffee, no cream but a little bit of hazelnut, right?" I ask with a glint in my eye, I've never forgotten her Starbucks order. "Perfect," she answers as she drapes her jacket over the chair and sits down. "Be right back," I say as I go over to the counter, trying to hide my sweaty palms in the sleeve of my hoodie. Fuck, she is here with me again. I love her, so much that it pains me. The thought of going back to never seeing her again after today is not even an option, I am going to convince her that she could love me as well. Hopefully she will feel the same and I will finally get what I want, for her to be mine.