Drive Me Insane

[Jen]

Chapter 30 - Reflections

“I’m bored.”

“Yes, I know,” I replied monotonously.

We were lying on the sand, the warm rays of sun pouring down on us. Drew had been complaining for the past half an hour. It seemed guys didn’t have the same urges to just lie on the sand and relax like girls did. This was my idea of heaven. No homework, no hassles and no one else on the beach. I kept my eyes closed as I tried to hold on to my idea of paradise. Drew groaned – again. I felt a sharp jab in my side, but refused to open my eyes. Nothing would ruin this for me. Again with the jabbing,

“Go away,” I said sleepily.

“I’m bored,” he said again.

I sighed heavily and slowly opened my eyes. The sky was a bright blue with the absence of any clouds. I squinted as the sun shone down, blinding my vision. I rubbed my eyes and rolled slowly over on my side propping my head up with my arm. I was now facing Drew who was sitting upright on his towel and had begun shredding innocent leaves into a million pieces. He looked over at me and then went back to his leaves.

“Why don’t we go back to your place?” I suggested.

Drew looked back at me abruptly and I struggled to read the response on his face.

-

I gazed around in amazement at the house. Well, it wasn’t really a house, more a mansion. Pale-carpeted floors, walls, and four brown cushions were arranged in perfect symmetry on the cream suede lounge suite. I must have looked ridiculous, standing just inside the door, with my mouth gaping open, as I tried to take in my new surroundings.

“You coming in or what?” Drew asked, now almost across the room and into the adjoining kitchen.

I turned and closed the door behind me and walked up behind him as he led me into the kitchen.

“Man, this place is incredible,” I spoke, as I tried to examine every inch of the perfectly equipped kitchen.

“It’s okay, I guess,” Drew replied, shrugging from across the marble counter.

“Are you kidding? Your place makes my room look like a pig sty.”

“Hey, your room is great,” he said, coming around the counter to stand in front of me. “Besides, it’s more about what happens in there that counts,” he said seductively as his firm hands slipped behind my hips and he straddled me against the white cupboards.

I smiled as he lent in and nuzzled my neck before I cupped his face in my hand and kissed him.

“Well, isn’t that lovely,” a voice said sweetly.

I quickly pulled away, my face flushing as I saw a woman standing in the doorway.

“No need to stop on my account,” she said.

“Mum,” Drew replied sheepishly as he let go of me and wandered casually away.

“Aren’t you going to offer –“ she paused, gazing in my direction.

I quickly glanced over at Drew who was now staring at the floor. Had he not told his mother about me?

“Belle,” I supplied.

“Belle, a drink?’ Drew’s mother finished.

Drew looked up,

“Would you like a drink?”

“Um, water would be great,” I replied.

While Drew opened the fridge and retrieved a glass jug, I looked back over at Drew’s mum. The light was streaming in through the window, while she stood there in her silk dressing gown. I suddenly blushed again, hoping that we hadn’t disturbed her from – anything. I quickly tried to erase whatever “activities” Drew’s mother may have been doing, to still be in her dressing gown at two o’clock in the afternoon, from my mind.

“I’m Jazz,” Drew’s mother spoke coming across the tiled floor to shake my hand.

I smiled politely,

“You have a great place.”

“Well, thank you,” she gushed. “She’s a sweetie Drew. You should keep her.”

“Mum,” he said a little more forcibly than earlier.

“Right, I’ll leave you to it,” Jazz said taking her leave. “Nice to meet you, Belle,” she said as she left the room.

“You too,” I replied as her silk gown floated away.

As soon as Jazz disappeared Drew thrust my glass of water at me and strode quickly back into the lounge room.

“Ok, correct me if I’m wrong but did your mother have no idea who I was?” I asked as I followed and sat down beside him on the suede lounge.

“I thought we were keeping things casual,” he said dismissively.

“I said I didn’t want to rush things. I didn’t mean that I wasn’t serious about you. About us.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Drew stated, “She knows who you are now.”

“Only because I told her! I could have been any random you’d picked up.”

I put my glass down on the coffee table in front of us and swivelled so I was facing him.

“Or is that what you wanted her to think?” I asked, my tone with a touch of bitterness.

“Can we not do this,” Drew replied casually. “You’re my girlfriend and it doesn’t matter what my mother or anyone else thinks.”

“Are you ashamed of me?”

I just couldn’t seem to drop this. If Drew was prepared to lie to his mother about our relationship, then I wasn’t going to stick around. Drew may have been a player in the past, but I thought things had changed.

“No, of course not,” he replied, “Now calm down.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down,” I said firmly, “I thought that we were a couple, not just a cheap fling. That may have been how you treated girls in the past, but I’m not going to be just one more notch on your belt!”

“Can you stop yelling? I don’t want mum coming down again.”

I glared at him. This was about being ashamed of me. He wanted to have it all; the girl, the friends, and most importantly, the reputation. I could feel tears swelling up inside me. I blinked them back ferociously before allowing myself to speak again.

“Oh, don’t worry. I won’t disturb your mother anymore.” And I stormed across the room and out the door, letting it close with a loud thud as I ran across the neatly mown grass onto the footpath, tears streaming down my face.

-

[Jen]

Chapter 31 - Burst Bubbles

I slammed the door closed behind me so hard that the windows rattled and I heard Irene exclaim, “Hey!” from upstairs.

I didn’t care.

Drew is a jerk. A self-obnoxious, egotistical jerk whose only concern is himself. He’s reputation was the only thing that was important – he didn’t care who he trod on and squished along the way – so long as he always top dog; the one all the girls fawned over. What was so special about him anyway? Sure, he was slightly good looking and maybe he made my insides fill with metaphorical butterflies every time he looked over at me. But he was still the same guy that landed me in detention and I swore that it was impossible for me to like – let alone fall for.

Oh no! Had I actually fallen for Boy-Wonder? Well, I had definitely fallen, and it must have been hard, because it hurt like crazy.

Now, I was scraping myself off the windscreen of his sports car as he drove past.

I slumped down on my bed, letting my tears fall onto my pillow.

It was my own stupid fault. I had let myself get caught up in him; in his gorgeous, brown eyes – blinded by who I thought he could be. But to him I was nothing more than one more girl he brought home to show off to his mother, only to be left in the morning.

There was a small tap at my door. I looked up slowly as I heard the door open slightly with a small creak.

“Are you alright, love?” Irene asked, poking her head into my room.

-

I slumped back into the lounge. Well done Drew, you’ve royally screwed things up this time. I wriggled around as a rogue spring protruded from the cushion and jabbed me. I slammed my hand hard on the lounge and stood up and began pacing around the room.

My mother. It always comes down to her. She had to come and ruin things for me, once again. She couldn’t keep her hands off anything in my life. Like when she decided to flirt and proceed to hook up with one of my mates from boarding school. And we both knew how that would end. She left him for someone more “mature” and I was left to clean up the mess. So when she suggested a change of scenery I jumped at the chance to make a fresh start. But things had become monotonous once again. Girls seemed to come and go in my life. I had my one close friend, Lucas, and a bunch of others I only really knew by face. Surrounding myself with people helped me to forget everything that I had left behind.

I didn’t intentionally want to lead them on. But none of the girls I had been with before really mattered. Sure it was fun to hang out and do … stuff. But, there was no substance to any of it. I don’t want to sound conceited, but girls just seemed to be attracted to me, and who was I to object. However, there was no challenge. I didn’t have to work at it; it just seemed to happen.

Now there was Belle. She frustrated me to no end, but I always seemed to come back to her. Do the full circle. “Fear of commitment” isn’t that what the shrinks would call it? I guess I get that from my mother. An outrageous flirt, but when it came to the crunch ran a mile.

Was I worried she would find out how screwed up my life was and not want anything to do with me? Maybe.

Was I frightened of what might happen if I let her in so far that there was no going back? Possibly.

Was I scared that my mother would waltz in when the time suited her, tearing both our lives to pieces and leaving me to clean up the mess, again? Yes.

Heredity is a powerful thing.

I heard footsteps slowly coming down the stairs. I looked up to see my mother, now showered and dressed entering the lounge room.

“Belle gone already?” she asked casually.

“Yeah, no thanks to you.”

“No need to be hostile. I was perfectly pleasant if you noticed.”

“Oh, I noticed something,” I murmured under my breath.

Jazz raised her eyebrows at me and went into the kitchen. But I wasn’t finished, so I followed.

She went to the fridge and brought out a new bottle of champagne.

“A bit early isn’t it, even for you?” I asked, as I eyed the bottle. The root of all our problems.

“I thought we’d have a little celebration,” she replied playfully, pouring herself a full glass, “To you.”

“Me?”

“For getting yourself a proper girlfriend. That is what she was, isn’t it Drew?” She looked up from her drink, the bubbles slowly rising to the surface. That was exactly how I felt. My own bubbles slowly rising, to settle just beneath the surface; threatening to burst.

I bit my bottom lip as my mother took a large sip.

“You know why I didn’t tell you about her?” I asked sharply.

Jazz feigned innocence, pretending to have no idea why I would do such a thing, thereby forcing me to say it out loud.

“Because I didn’t want her to see you. Us. Our totally screwed up life.” I said.

She looked up over the rim of her glass, letting the words hover in her mind before swallowing them, along with her drink.

“Well, that’s not very nice,” she replied.

“I shouldn’t have to make excuses for you, but I do. When you’re too hung over to go out and get a job, or to give a rat’s ass about what I’m doing, I have to put up with all the questions and make up the answers.”

“It’s not that bad,” she said flatly, grabbing the relatively full bottle of bubbly by the neck and walking out. She had obviously had enough. I heard her feet going heavily up the stairs.

It was no use. I knew she wouldn’t remember this tomorrow.

* * * * *

A/N: Thank you so much for the comments Lise, RR1, Zoe, Laura, and Jack+Martha4Eva! I'm glad you like the introduction of Jazz .

[Jen]

Chapter 32 – Things Are Never Simple

I knocked on the back door, just twice and waited. The door instantly flew open and I was staring into a pile of fiery red hair.

“Hi, Irene,” I said, trying to remain composed. The truth was, my insides were squirming ferociously. Irene was glaring at me, making no effort to hide her disappointment.

“You had better have a very good reason for being here, mister,” she said, pointing her finger directly at my chest. In very close proximity to where my heart was located.

I gulped nervously, hoping my voice wouldn’t fail me.

“I’m here to see Taylor, I mean, Belle,” I stuttered.

She pursed her lips, examining me critically.

“I have one very upset young girl in there,” she replied, gesturing in the direction of Taylor’s bedroom, “This wouldn’t have anything to do with you, would it?”

I stared pointlessly at my shoes, avoiding the disappointed look she continued to give me. She sighed, reluctantly, as if my silence automatically made me guilty, which it normally did. I had learned early on that punishment was usually lighter when you made no effort to deny what you had done. The same appeared to apply here.

She took one step away from the door, revealing a gap just large enough for me to squeeze into and pass her. I took a cautious step forward, hoping it wasn’t a trap and she wasn’t about to slam the door in my face. My nose remained intact as I turned awkwardly and edged into the kitchen. I then headed straight for Taylor’s bedroom. However my haste wasn’t fast enough to avoid hearing Irene distinctly mumble,

“I knew this would happen,” as she closed the door behind me.

Taylor’s door was closed. I leant my ear against it for a moment. There was the distinct sound of sobbing as I knocked, this time only once. The sobbing stopped and there was a rustling noise as a weak voice inside said,

“What?”

Instead of replying I put my hand on the round knob and turned it slowly. The door opened to reveal Taylor lying on her stomach on top of her bed, her head resting on her pillow. She looked up as I entered. In a split second I had to duck as she hurled her pillow at me. I was only just inside the doorframe and was beginning to stand upright again when another cushion came hurtling close to my face. It bounced off my shoulder and landed at my feet.

“Thanks,” I said, pulling the cushion in towards me and sitting down upon it, leaning against the far wall of her bedroom.

“Get lost,” she said angrily, rolling over to face away from me.

“I probably deserve that,” I stated.

There was a sniffle and small cough as Taylor managed a “Yeah,” in reply.

“Look, I’m sorry,” I said with a sigh.

Taylor remained silent. She certainly wasn’t going to make this easy.

“I was stupid not to tell my mum about you. The truth is, I prefer not to discuss my relationships with my mother. I think after meeting her, you can understand why,” I paused, hoping Taylor was listening, I certainly wasn’t about to repeat myself, “We don’t really see eye to eye on a lot of things.”

I let the words sink in for a moment. I didn’t really know where I was going with this. Once I started, the words just seemed to fall from my mouth. I had no idea if it was making any difference.

There was movement on the bed. Taylor curled up her legs and slowly sat up, leaning back on the bed head. Her eyes were red from crying, her cheeks flushed pink and shining in the light as the last of her tears dribbled down to her chin. She stared at me, still not talking.

“You are the most important person in my life, Taylor,” I said truthfully, hoping she could hear the sincerity in my voice.

She gulped and looked away.

“You know it hurt,” she said, her voice crackling, “Not because you didn’t tell your mother, but because it seemed like you cared more about your reputation than you did about me.”

“If that’s what it looked like, then I’m sorry,” I replied quickly, “Despite what the girls at school might think, I’m not very good at this sort of thing.”

“I’m beginning to realise that,” she replied, a small smile creeping on to her lips.

I cautiously stood up, picking up the pillows off the floor and carrying them back to the bed. I placed them down on the end of the bed. She didn’t kick them off, instead she watched me intently as I sat down on the very edge. The bed creaked slightly under my weight; I was worried for a moment that it might collapse. Then I remembered that we had been a lot rougher with it previously and it seemed to have survived. The memory of that night made me smile.

“What are you smiling at?” she asked.

“Just thinking about the last time I was in here,” I said vaguely. She too smiled, then sighed.

“It seems like an eternity ago.”

I nodded, looking up from the quilt and into her now dry eyes. I stretched out my hand, tracing the floral pattern of the cover with my fingers. Taylor leant forward, her hand meeting mine in the middle. Her hands were so small, delicate, I noticed. She carefully took my hand in hers. I shuffled closer, and drawing in a deep breath placed my lips gently onto hers. I felt her stance loosen and relax under the weight of the kiss. It wasn’t the most powerful, but maybe it wasn’t about strength. She slowly pulled away, still holding onto my hand.

“Now what?” she asked.

“How about we do something this afternoon?” I replied.

She nodded happily.

“What did you have in mind?” she asked coyly.

“I was thinking maybe going to the Diner,” I replied in an equally smooth voice.

Taylor’s eyebrows shot up in an arch.

“That’s not very romantic,” she pouted.

“Well, I figured maybe we need to cool things down around Irene.”

“I suppose,” she said reluctantly.

“We have to be careful,” I said sternly, “If things get too out of hand we might end up giving Colleen Smart a heart attack.” Taylor let out a giggle and smiled.

Things were finally coming together.

I have to be the luckiest guy in the world. I have the most perfect girlfriend ever. Even when she yells, screams and throws pillows at my head, I still can’t keep away. I always keep coming back to the same thing. How did I survive without her? It’s a pity not everything is this simple.

-

I glanced back at my watch for the tenth time in as many minutes. 4.12 it shined back at me. I sighed and took a long sip of my orange juice. The liquid ran out and there was a loud slurp vibrating from the bottom of the glass. I looked up and saw Irene shoot me a look over the top of the counter. I gave her a small smile and pushed my glass away.

He was late. He said 4 o’clock. His text definitely said four, right?

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and thumbed it carefully. I scrolled through my inbox finding the most recent message from Drew. Dinr. 4pm. –D.

I scanned the Diner again, hoping that he had possibly slipped in unnoticed while I was staring down. But there was no sign of his characteristic dark mop anywhere.

The last thing I wanted to be was a control-freak of a girlfriend, but he was late. It was his idea to meet here in the first place, and now he was a complete no show.

I saw Irene glance over at me, still sitting alone at the table in the corner. She gave me an encouraging smile, but her eyes were beady and small. She seemed determined to find a fault in Drew. I had refused to tell her anything when I arrived home in tears, but she knew it had to be Drew.

I clambered out of my seat and approached her at the counter.

“Anything I can get you, darl?” she asked cheerily.

“No thanks, Irene,” I replied distractedly, still scanning the Diner’s patrons.

She fiddled with a tea cup in her fingertips, looking over my head to see what I was searching for.

“Look, Belle love,” Irene began. I turned slowly back to face her, forcing myself to take my eyes off the doorway. She placed the crockery down on the counter and looked up. “I know you seem very smitten by this boy, but I saw how upset you were this afternoon.”

“That was just a misunderstanding,” I replied.

“Even so, I only want what is best for you.”

“I know that,” I said, giving her a smile, “But you don’t have to worry.” My voice sounded calm, collected and totally convincing. Inside, my stomach was squirming. Why wasn’t he here?

“I’m going to go,” I added, turning towards the door, “If you see Drew -“ Irene’s eyes widened, eager to have a reason to have another go at him. “Actually, never mind,” I adjusted. Her face fell, and she scurried away into the kitchen. I gave her a small wave over my shoulder and was quickly engulfed in the salty sea air.

I pulled out my phone once more, and pressed call. I held it up to my ear, closing my eyes in an effort to concentrate on the dial tone at the other end of the line.

There was a clunk, and the ringing stopped. My heart skipped a beat, as I waited in anticipation for his voice.

“Hey. You’ve called Drew. Leave a message,” his voicemail stated.

“Hey, it’s me,” I said quickly, “I thought we were meeting up this afternoon, but obviously I got the date mixed up. So, um, call me if you get this,” and I hung up.

I stood for moment, watching as a blonde surfer emerged from the foam. He shook his head vigorously, spraying sea water in all directions. He dragged his board up the beach, before dropping it to the floor at a nearby towel. He picked up the towel and wrapped it around his shoulders, before sitting down on the sand.

I wandered down the sandy pathway, my feet kicking sand against my calves as I walked. The surfer looked up as I approached, smiling.

“Don’t you do anything besides surf?” I asked.

“Hey, Belle,” he said, ignoring my question, “Where’s your other half?”

I shrugged,

“I was hoping you could enlighten me.”

“I thought he was hanging with you today. A least that’s what he told me when I asked him if he wanted to come for a surf.”

“Well, we were supposed to meet at the Diner, but he seems to have disappeared off the face of the planet,” I said, digging my heels into the sand.

“Have you tried calling him?” Lucas asked.

I nodded.

“Have you tried his house?”

“I thought about it,” I replied honestly, “But I didn’t want to come across as pushy.”

Lucas scoffed,

“Trust me; you can never be too pushy with Drew.”

I gave him a grin.

“Perfect. Catch you later, Luc,” and with a wave I began to turn away.

* * * * *

A/N: I realise that the second half of this chapter is a bit of a filler, but I needed to work up to what is happening next. I’d like to hear your theories or suggestions about what you’d like to see happen.

Thank you for the comments Zoe, RR1, Laura, Lise and Georgia. Oh, and Georgia I'm glad that I could sway you into the delightful realm of Drelle shipping .

[Jen]

Chapter 33 - The Driveway

There was a loud crash from inside followed by a series of high pitched yelps. I pressed my ear against the door, straining to make sense of what was unfolding inside. There was a moment silence before another loud smash and a deeper string of profanities. I knocked twice and without waiting for anyone to answer I turned the handle and pushed the door open. I looked up to see Jazz, lunging at me with her bare hands before tripping on the maroon rug and falling to the floor. She lay spread-eagle on the beige carpet and did not move.

My eyes moved slowly away from the passed out body to the very corner of the room. Drew had his back pressed firmly into the crevice, one hand gripping the neck of an empty wine bottle, while his feet were surrounded by large shards of glass. A few feet away the damaged remains of a smashed glass vase lay on the floor.

I couldn’t speak. My mind was whirling fast, trying to absorb the scene I had stumbled upon.

“Taylor,” Drew began slowly from across the room.

However, I did what was instinct to me; I turned and ran out the door. Not expecting Drew to leave his mother in that state, I slowed once I reached the end of the driveway.

“Taylor, wait!” his voice called out.

I turned and watched as Drew jogged across the perfectly kept-lawn and came to a halt in front of me. He was panting slightly.

“Taylor, you can’t say anything.”

“What?” This was not what I was expecting to hear – a cry for help maybe, but definitely not mind your own business.

“Please,” his eyes were pleading with me.

“Okay,” I replied, nodding.

“It’s not a big deal,” Drew said casually.

“Not a big deal!” I exclaimed, “Your mother is passed out on your living room floor at 4.30 in the afternoon.”

Drew shrugged, the empty bottle still gripped in his hand. He scuffed his sneaker along the rough bitumen, refusing to look me in the eyes.

“So what, you’re telling me this has happened before?” I asked incredulously.

“Look Taylor, I said it’s not a big deal. I’m handling it. So just drop it,” he replied.

I nodded dumbly, before sighing and beginning to turn away.

“But just so you know, if you ever want some help, I’m here.”

“Thanks,” Drew replied, “but I’ll be okay. I’m more concerned about my mother waking up in her own vomit.” And he turned and walked sadly back to the house, tossing the glass bottle in the rubbish bin as he went.

-

I closed my bedroom door carefully, trying to remain as quiet as possible so as not to wake my sleeping mother in the next room. However, when I put her to bed, by lugging her up the stairs slung over my shoulder, she seemed completely out of it. I could have driven a steam roller through the house and she probably wouldn't have woken up. But if by some strange twist of fate she was woken before lunch time tomorrow, then the outcome wouldn't have been good for me. I'm not saying she would have hurt me in the physical sense, constant sessions at the gym in an effort to avoid being at home made it possible for me to easily overpower her, if required.

I was more concerned for her mental state. If not enough time had lapsed, and not enough of the alcohol had been removed from her system, then she was impossible. She would make irrational decisions, and more importantly, she would take out her frustration due to being unemployed and mother to the most disappointing son in the universe, out on me. She liked to play mind games. Take small, insignificant digs at my lack of achievement, inevitable future of nothingness, and all round let down as her only offspring. To the passing stranger, or the guy we had to call to fix the washing machine, this would look like normal mother-son banter, the normal disagreement between parent and adolescent. However, when this has been going on for the past six months non-stop, then all these little things tend to build up.

But there's no point making a fuss. She wouldn't take any notice of what I had to say anyway. It seemed as though I needed to be the parent, and I was the one with the teenager, not the other way around.

I had become very good at hiding it. I spent my time distributed between school, hanging out at Lucas' house, the gym, and also, with girls. The girls were important in me keeping my sanity. I could pick them up from anywhere, it didn't matter; a party, at school, at the surf club. All that mattered, was that the time and energy I spent making out with them in a secluded corner, seeped into the time in which I did not have to spend at home. When I couldn't avoid home any longer, I could creep in at a late hour, late enough so that my mother had already consumed her usual dose of wine so that she was fast asleep on the lounge. All that was left for me to do was haul her up to bed and place a glass of water on her dressing table for the morning.

But now, things became more complicated. I had become so used to the way my life was orientated, that I didn't realise that this wasn't normal for anyone else. The look on Taylor's face when she came over today showed me that. She looked scared, frightened, and disgusted by what she saw. I never wanted her to look at me like that again.

I lay down on my bed, still fully clothed. Although it was only late afternoon, I was exhausted. I tentatively closed my eyes, allowing my breathing to slow. I felt myself fading away, into a land of dreams and alternative reality.

I woke with a start. I was slightly dazed, blinking multiple times. My room was dark, only a faint trace of moonlight seeping through the window. I sat up slowly, looking around, still half asleep. I rubbed my eyes, which adjusted to the dark. I glanced across at the clock on the wall. 9.30 it read. I was still in my board shorts and singlet from that day.

There was a thumping radiating through the house. In a house with high ceilings and wooden panels, sound tended to travel. I crept towards my door, placing my ear gently against it, trying to decipher the noise. The thumping became louder, before trailing away. It sounded as though Jazz had woken and was now pacing down the hallway. Her feet hitting the floorboards heavily as she reluctantly lifted her feet. I could hear her panting, even through my closed door. I knew what must be coming next.

I turned, back up against the door and slid down until I hit the floor. Knees pulled up to my chest, I buried my face in my palms, waiting for the retching to start. I could just imagine my mother, on her knees, bent over the toilet bowl. The remnants of the alcohol from the afternoon, spilling over and being flushed down the drain. There was silence, before the rushing of water, removing all the evidence of an upturned stomach.

I slowly rose from the floor, clambering back into bed. I pulled my sheet tightly around my chin and bent my knees into my front. I squeezed my eyes shut.

When did it all go so horribly wrong?

What do you do when the one person who is supposed to always know the answers, is the person with the problem?

How do you begin to explain it to someone else?

Why are all these questions so hard?

Pull yourself together, Curtis! You've been coping fine up until now. Why are you suddenly falling apart? Men don't fall apart. They are the ones that need to keep it together, regardless.

But that was just it. It was fine. Just coping. Not happy. I hadn't been happy in a long time. The only time I came even close to feeling content was when I was with Taylor. Somehow, she made me forget what was going on at home. If only I could hold onto that feeling forever.

And how was I supposed to face her tomorrow? Let alone talk to her, try and mend the damage. What if she had told someone? I'm pretty sure that if she even mentioned a hint of this to Irene that it would be all over town by morning. All I needed was Colleen Smart and half the town knocking on my door.

I could always deny it. Denial had always worked well for me. Like the time I outright denied that I had anything to do with the small bottle of vodka that was found in the bottom drawer of Mr. Simmons desk. Everyone already had suspicions that he was an alcoholic, this just confirmed it. Although that little year 8 had told the principal that he saw me hanging around the classroom during lunch. They didn't have any proof, so just keep denying it. Soon enough all the rumours died a natural death, and were replaced by the school's next hot gossip topic. Was there anything going on between the librarian and the cleaner?

But somehow, Taylor didn't strike me as the type of person to let things go. She seemed to have an endless battery life. So denial didn't seem like a great option.

There's always the truth.

Yeah, right.

I must have fallen back to sleep, because the next thing I knew was that I was opening my eyes to my room lit up with sunlight. the birds were chirping, there was a distinct crashing of waves from the beach, but no sound of anything or anyone else moving around the house. Just to be sure, I crept downstairs on tip toes and made sure that my mother's bedroom door was securely closed, before going to school.

* * * * *

[Jen]

Chapter 34 - Never Too Late

"Belle, love. Are you all right?"

Irene's voice snapped me out of my daydream.

I was sitting at the breakfast table. The piece of toast on my plate had one bite taken out of it and had long since become cold. I just couldn't stop thinking about it. The look on Drew's face when he saw me standing there. I'm sure he was shocked to see me there, but there was something. Despite the fact that he told me that he was okay, when he was backed into that corner, surrounded by all that glass, he looked frightened.

"Belle?"

"Sorry, Irene," I replied, looking up from my blank stare, "I'm fine."

"You've hardly touched your breakfast," she said, coming over with her cup of coffee and sitting beside me at the table.

"I guess I'm just not that hungry," I said.

"Did you want something else? A coffee? Fruit? Juice?" Irene asked.

I shook my head and sat back in my chair, letting my hands drop my toast back onto the plate.

I could feel Irene's eyes on me. They were trying to pierce through my skull, attempting to read my mind. But if Drew didn't want me to say anything, then what could I do? I looked over at her, her face cautious, but also caring. I knew she wanted to help. She had told me enough times that if I wanted to talk, she would always be there; as a parent, friend, or whatever I needed.

I bit my lip, a sure sign of my unease.

"What is it, darl?" she asked again.

I shook my head. I wanted to say something. Explain the scared look in Drew's eyes. Eyes that usually were so bright; that lit up when they saw me, that had a distinct twinkle when he was scheming, that glazed over when he was bored. I knew them so well, but I felt more unsure than ever.

"I'm going to school," I said, pushing aside my plate and getting up from the table. I grabbed my bag from the foot of the stairs and retreated quickly out the door.

-

Cassie was talking by my side, while I leant on my locker and gazed around the hall. Drew was standing in a corner, Lucas talking animatedly to him. But he looked distracted. He kept glancing from his watch, to the floor, to looking over his shoulder; as if he were waiting for something.

"So we decided that friends would be better," Cassie continued. I nodded absent-mindedly as spoke, "I think we were both feeling kind of left out when you and Drew were getting together. But we decided friends would be okay."

Drew was still looking around. His eyes darted across the hall to where I was standing with Cassie. Our eyes met, and for a moment we stared. Drew's face was tired. Had he always had those dark circles beneath his eyes? He didn't smile, and neither did I.

There was a prod in my side, and I was forced to blink and look back over at Cassie. She folded her arms across her chest,

"Are you even listening to me?" she asked.

"Sorry, Cass," I said apologetically. My eyes couldn't help wandering back across the hall. In those few seconds I had looked away, both Drew and Lucas had disappeared.

"Are you okay?" she asked. Why did everyone have to keep asking that?

"Yeah, I'm fine,” I responded automatically. I'm pretty sure that even if I was dying with some flesh-eating bacteria gnawing at my skin, I probably would have answered the same way. It had become second nature. Thankfully, she accepted my answer and I wasn't dying. I was hoping it was a lot less serious than that.

The bell rang out, causing a rush of students. I faintly heard Cassie beside me say, "Come on," but my elbow was being pulled in the opposite direction to the flow of bodies. I looked down and saw a hand firmly clamped around my arm. I tugged at my hand, trying to shake the grasp, however the person's hand was twice the size of mine and could easily contain my thin limbs within its palm.

I was thrust forward and encapsulated in the darkness. The distinct smell of cleaning products and cologne wafted through my nose. I raised my chin slowly, watching the outline of the person who had brought me here. He was facing away from me, his face hidden in the darkness of the cupboard he had dragged me into. As my eyes adjusted to the lack of light I recognised the space. It was the same cupboard which Drew had pulled me into before.

"You could have been a bit more original," I muttered under my breath, even though I was sure the situation was not calling for jokes.

Drew ran his hand through his mop of curls and said,

"I needed to talk to you."

He turned to face me, his eyes locking with mine. He was breathing deeply, his chest rising and falling erratically.

"What is it?" I asked, taking a step back so I was leaning against the wall.

"About what you saw," he said, "Did you tell anyone?"

"No," I replied.

He took one step forward, bringing himself barrelling down on top of me. He grasped my wrist tightly, glaring at me as he hissed,

"You had better not. Because if you breathe a single word of this to anyone, I swear to God -"

"I won't. I promise," I said quickly.

"I couldn't handle it if anyone found out," he said quietly, breaking eye contact.

"No one knows?" I asked carefully. It wasn't that I was surprised; I was just curious how he had managed to hide this for so long.

He shook his head,

"Not even Lucas," he replied.

"It's not too late," I offered.

"Yeah, it is," Drew said sadly, his voice now a whisper, "This is the way it has always been."

"That doesn't make it okay."

"It doesn't matter," he said, shaking his head, causing his loose curls to flop in front of his face.

I realised that he was still holding firmly to wrist. I took my free hand and swept the locks of hair out of his eyes.

"I'm sorry." I wasn't sure what I was apologising for, I hadn't done anything wrong. But I wasn't sure what else I could say.

Drew barely nodded, finally letting go of my wrist and allowing it to drop heavily to my side.

In an instant the door to the cupboard was open and Drew was sweeping past me and into the empty hall. I looked around, stunned. He didn't wait, just disappeared out of sight. The cool air slowly filtered into the confined space where I was still standing. Class had already begun and I was late, but somehow that didn't seem important.

I stepped out of the cupboard, closing the door behind me and stared up and down the hall. It was deserted. I walked past classrooms, looking cautiously through windows and avoiding the stares of teachers until I reached the main door. I looked out over the bitumen car park, and just approaching the outer gates about to leave the grounds there was a mop of black hair.

I sprinted forward. My feet were pounding on the concrete, thumping loudly over the empty grounds. I didn't want to call out for fear of attracting unwanted attention. If anyone found that we weren't in class, we were sure to be in trouble. And I'm sure more trouble was not what Drew needed.

Drew kept walking, keeping a steady pace, his head hanging low and bag slung over his shoulder. I reached out, grabbing hold of his wrist. he turned around violently, ready to rip his hand out of my grasp. His face was angry as his eyes met mine once more. I could see his confused expression as he forced himself to relax his brow and lips.

"Drew," I panted, "Where are you going?"

"Shouldn't you be in class?" he said, a small smirk creeping across his features.

"Shouldn't you?" I retorted, forgetting the fragile person I had just encountered. It was almost as though he was two separate people. There was Curtis; the popular, good-looking, confident guy that every girl wanted. Then there was Drew; the scared, unsure, young boy, who didn't have anywhere to go.

He shrugged, his other hand reaching onto mine and pulling his hand out of my fingers. He turned, beginning to walk away again.

"Wait," I pleaded. He looked over his shoulder, his feet ready to still leave the grounds. "We are already late for class, we might as well make it worthwhile," I said, letting myself smile.

"You might get in trouble," Drew replied.

"I seem to do that a lot when I'm with you," I said smirking.

I could see Drew contemplate this for a moment, before giving me a single nod.

I fell into step with him as we left the tall buildings behind us. I wondered whether anyone would actually notice our absence. Maybe Cassie and Lucas would, but if they didn't speak to each other, then maybe they would just assume Drew and I were still somewhere on campus.

We kept walking, neither of us saying a word. I didn't notice where we were heading until I tripped over an overly large rock sticking out of the sand. I stumbled, before regaining my footing and coming face to face with a tall cliff face. White sand was interspersed by black rocks, jutting out above sea level. The backdrop was a steep cliff, of the same black rock rising up from the sand until it reached the sky. I gazed up to where the rocks met the sky, the sun glaring down into my eyes. I squinted my eyes, feeling them begin to water.

I looked back at Drew who had pulled off his shoes and was clambering onto a particularly large rock with small tide pool at the base.

"What is this place?" I asked in awe. I wandered over to where Drew was sitting, taking up a place on an adjacent rock.

"It's the base of Stewarts Point," he replied, "It doesn't have much traffic flow. Popular party spot, but kind of off the beaten track."

"You come here often?"

"Not really," Drew said.

We sat in silence, letting the warm sun shine on us. I could feel the rock I was sitting on begin to heat up. The heat was seeping through the thin material of my school dress and onto my bare legs. I stood up, planting my feet back on the cool, white sand. I turned to Drew, smiling. His gazed seemed off. He was staring at the ground, tracing the crevices in the rock with his finger.

"Wanna swim?" I asked randomly.

Drew looked up, his face blank. He blinked and I watched as his eyes slowly came back in to focus.

"Are you serious?" he asked.

"Why not? We've got the whole day."

I bent down, pulling off my shoe followed by my sock, showing him that I was serious. He shook his head at me, a small smirk creeping over his lips.

"You're crazy," he said.

I nodded before reaching over my shoulder and pulling the zip down of my dress. I let the material flutter to the floor before I realised that I was now standing in front of Drew Curtis in nothing more than my bikini.

Drew's eyes widened and they wandered down from my face to my chest and then to my waist.

I suddenly felt very self conscious and turned quickly away from him. I jogged down to the water’s edge, and let the sea rise around my ankles. It was cool, and the contrast to the sun sent shivers up my legs. I took two steps forward, allowing the water to splash at my thighs. I cautiously looked over my shoulder. Drew had removed his shirt and tie, leaving them in a crumpled pile on the rock which he was previously sitting. He was bent over stepping out of his jeans, leaving him standing in his shorts. He strode down to the shore line and soon was standing beside me.

I cocked my head to the side, watching as Drew rubbed his arms – a futile attempt to adjust to the low temperature of the water.

“It’s not that cold,” I scoffed.

“Speak for yourself,” he replied, giving me a small shove.

I dug my heels into the sand to avoid falling over. I gave him a glare before saying,

“On the count of three.”

“Three what?” Drew asked, his tone confused.

I sighed heavily and took a step into the deeper water.

“One,” I said.

His eyes widened, but he remained in the same position. The waves were only just reaching his knees. I pulled out my hand grasped hold of his hand again, yanking him forward so we were once again level.

“Two.”

This time he needed no instruction. We both took large strides forward; the water now at my waist.

Drew gave me a grin and I felt my face become suddenly warm. I quickly looked away and closed my eyes as I shouted,

“Three!”

* * * * *

A/N: Thank you so much Bec, Georgia, Red Ranger 1, Laura and Lise for always reading and reviewing.

Another longer chapter. I hope you liked. Comments and reviews make me smile.

[Jen]

Chapter 35 – Surface Tension

My head broke the surface of the water and I gasped for air. The water was freezing, so I treaded water ferociously trying to keep the feeling in my legs. I squinted into the sun, before wiping the water off my face. I looked around at the endless sea of blue surrounding me. Suddenly, another head bobbed up beside me. She gave me a broad smile. With just her head in the open air she let her feet float to the surface. Taylor lay casually on her back, the sun bouncing off her skin.

“Isn’t this so much better that school?”

“Absolutely,” I replied.

I copied her lead, and was soon lost in my own world.

Why had I been so worried to begin with? I could completely trust Taylor. She wasn’t going to say anything. And for now, everything was perfect. So, maybe not perfect, but definitely manageable. This is way better than sitting at the back of some stuffy classroom, listening to adults drone on and on about stuff that has absolutely no relevance to the real world.

Sure, we study romance in English, but nothing like this. Skipping school with your girlfriend, while your mother is sleeping off a hangover never came up in any of the texts we studied.

When we finally left the water the tips of my fingers were wrinkled like prunes and my hair was laying flat against my head. The sun was sitting low in the sky as we wandered slowly back along the beach. The trees were casting long shadows as I looked up along the sand dunes, watching as the seagulls settled into the warm sand in between the shrubs for the night.

As we walked in silence past the surf club I saw two guys heading towards us. I recognised them both from my maths class, one of the many that I ditched today. Taylor was busy drying her hair with a towel she found at the bottom of her bag as the two guys approached. They were talking casually to each other, but stopped suddenly when they looked up and saw us approaching.

“Drew man, where’ve you been?” one of them asked. He was about my height, his hair a sandy blonde and swept casually out of his eyes. He held out his hand and patted me hard on the shoulder.

“Oh you know, places to go, people to see,” I replied casually.

“Dude, if you see Mr Bartlett, you’d better hide,” the other chimed in. He was shorter, and gazed up at me with a freckly face.

“Why’s that?” I asked.

“He’s furious that you skipped school,” he replied.

“What are you talking about?” I asked, trying to feign innocence. Maybe if I just kept telling them that I was there, then no one would think otherwise. I gazed down at my crumpled shirt and pants, that I had rolled up to my knees. It was a dead giveaway.

“He knows you weren’t there today,” the tall one stated, “He gave the whole class a lecture too.” He sighed unhappily, before sticking out his hand in front of me.

“Good luck, eh?” he said.

I shook it unsurely, before they wandered off. I remained rooted to the spot. I heard a little sound from beside me. I had almost forgotten that Taylor was even with me. She poked her head out of her towel.

“We are so dead,” she said simply.

“Maybe it’s not as bad as those guys were making out,” I said as we continued to walk, “They could have been trying to freak us out.”

“I don’t know, Drew. They seemed pretty serious to me.”

“Just stick to the story and everything will be fine,” I said calmly.

Just then there was a flash of red and it was streaming like a comet heading straight for us. Taylor and I remained rooted to the spot as Irene strode determinedly towards us. I never knew she could move like that. She was practically tearing up the path in front of her. Two innocent seagulls were forced to fly away suddenly as she marched straight through where they were sitting, causing a flutter of feathers to fly in every direction.

Her face was angry; fuming even, as she was mere seconds away from reaching us. It was far too late to even contemplate running, or even pretending that we hadn’t seen her. Her beady eyes locked with mine. If looks could kill, then I would certainly have been six feet under by now.

“Belle!” Irene yelled.

I felt Taylor move uneasily beside me.

“And what’s the story again?” she asked.

I swallowed hard,

“I have no idea.”

Irene shook her finger at the both of us, then turned directly to Taylor and said,

“You are in so much trouble, girly.”

“Look, Irene, it’s not what it looks like,” Taylor tried to explain. Her tone was calm, but urgent at the same time.

“Did you, or did you not, skip school today to go gallivanting off God knows where?” she asked angrily.

I heard Taylor gulp. She hung her head, choosing to avoid Irene’s eye. I shifted from one foot to the other, realising how thankful I was to have a mother who couldn’t care less about what I got up to. But Irene, like a hawk, swooped down on me too,

“And don’t think you are off the hook either, mister,” she said, shaking her fist furiously.

This time it was my turn to hang my head.

-

We were sitting in those uncomfortable plastic chairs of Mr Bartlett’s classroom. His round belly was stretching his shirt to the maximum, and I had to avert my eyes for fear that one of his buttons was going to give way and take my eye out.

Taylor was sitting beside me, her back stiff against the back of the chair.

“... Truancy is a very serious offence. This will go on your permanent record. How do expect to get a job, if you are continually displaying this sort of behaviour?”

He waited for a reply, which neither of us supplied. He sighed and got up from his soft leather chair behind his desk.

“I’m very disappointed in you, Belle,” he continued, “First you are getting detention in Miss Fletcher’s English class, now you are skipping school altogether? I would have expected better from you,” he said with a sigh.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” Belle replied. Her voice was small, and she didn’t dare look up.

“Mister Curtis, now I am not surprised to find you involved,” Mr Bartlett said. I chanced a look at his face. I could see his eyes practically welling up with pride in telling me off. I knew he always had hated me. His lips formed a satisfied smirk as he strode around his desk, sticking out his belly proudly.

“You may not have any respect for the rules of this school, but I find it very low, even for you, to drag someone else down to your level.”

I was worthless, but I already knew it. My mother had told me enough times. I had learned to live with people having low expectations of me. And at times had played up to that fact. I didn’t mind getting into trouble, it livened my otherwise sub-standard life, up a bit. What pained me the most, was seeing Taylor hang her head in shame next to me.

To my shock, she spoke up.

“But, it was my idea, Sir.”

Bartlett stopped pacing in front of my and looked over at her. She looked up at him defiantly, her chin hard set and her brown eyes glaring up at him.

Bartlett let out a low chuckle,

“Are you telling me that it was your idea Miss Taylor to leave the school grounds and go swimming without permission?”

“Yes,” she replied determinedly.

“Taylor, you don’t have to do this,” I hissed at her.

She looked from Bartlett to me,

“But it’s the truth,” she replied.

“Yeah, but don’t ruin your record for the sake of me,” I hissed back, “I’m already screwed. You’ve got everything to look forward to.”

“I’m not going to lie,” she said, her eyes beginning to well up with tears.

“How touching,” Bartlett taunted, he was back to smirking at the both of us.

There was a knock at the door. Bartlett turned around, and both Taylor and I looked up to see who had possibly come to save us.

My hopes fell when I saw the familiar fiery red hair of Irene gleaming back at me.

“Mr Bartlett, sorry to interrupt,” she addressed him directly; not even bothering to acknowledge that we were in the room, “I was wondering if I could take Belle home now?”

“Yes, that’s fine,” he replied smoothly.

Belle stood slowly, glancing back at me.

“You will be on Saturday detention for the next month for your misbehaviour,” Bartlett said.

Taylor hovered for a moment between me, Bartlett and Irene, who was standing in the doorway. She looked at me sadly. I gave her a quick sympathetic smile, which did not go unnoticed by Irene.

“Belle, in the car. Now,” she said shortly.

Belle scooted out from under Bartlett and into the hallway.

“Irene? May I have a quick word?” Bartlett asked, just as Irene started to turn away.

She stopped, and Bartlett walked over to the door to meet her. He bowed his head slightly, talking in low tones.

I strained my ears to hear what he was saying.

“Far from me to judge how you discipline the children in your care, but might I suggest keeping her away from Drew. The boy is troubled to say the least,” he murmured, shaking his head, “and I can’t help but think that her spending so much time with him is having a negative influence on her behaviour.”

“Oh don’t worry,” Irene replied, louder than Bartlett. It was as if she wanted to make sure that I heard the next part, “Belle will not be seeing Drew again.”

She gave him a quick thankful smile before turning and leaving.

Now it was just me and Bartlett. Or it was until I looked up again to see the doorframe filled with the figure of someone who clearly had better things to do than come and pick up her delinquent son from school.

“Ah, Miss Curtis,” Bartlett greeted her. Jazz looked up at him blankly as he moved forward to shake her hand.

“Who are you?” Jazz asked directly.

Mr Bartlett cleared his throat, before saying,

“I’m Martin Bartlett. Drew’s mathematics teacher and deputy principal of this school.” He stuck out his chest proudly. Jazz stilled stared at him, her face wrinkled slightly as she gazed at his too-tight attire.

Bartlett pressed on,

“I was just about to tell Drew that it is in the best interest of the school that he is to be suspended until he is prepared to modify his behaviour to conform to the school’s expectations.”

“Suspended?” I spluttered. Sure, I had done some not so great things in the past, but how is it fair that I’m practically kicked out of school?

“Well, thank you for contacting me, Martin,” Jazz replied sweetly, “I’ll just be taking Drew now.”

I stood up and moved to her side. Even in her black heels, I still was at least half a head taller than her. Her long nails pierced the side of my arm as she pulled me out of the door, leaving Bartlett standing awkwardly, with his mouth gaping open.

* * * * *

A/N: Thank you so much for all the comments!

[Jen]

Chapter 36 – Emergency Call

Irene had yelled when we got home. Like, really yelled. She had told me how “disappointed” she was in my behaviour and told me that I was not to see Drew Curtis’ for the foreseeable future. I had objected, very strongly, but she wouldn’t change her mind. So I stormed off angrily to my room, where I slammed the door so hard that the windows rattled. Now we were both giving each other the silent treatment. I hadn’t even bothered to come out of my room for dinner, which I was now regretting since my stomach was beginning to tell me that it was sick of being empty.

But what else was I supposed to do? Irene and Bartlett were being totally unreasonable! This wasn’t Drew’s fault. I was the one who chose to skip school, not him, so why should he be punished too? And how could she stop me from seeing him?

I glanced around my room, the sun had set long ago and normally I would be getting ready to go to bed, but I couldn’t possibly sleep. I was still fuming from the events of this afternoon. My heart was still thumping hard inside my chest, so I continued to lay flat on my back on the floor of my bedroom and stare at the ceiling in an effort to control my emotions.

The house was silent, except for the occasional call of a cricket outside my window and the low hum of the TV coming from the living room. I couldn’t risk leaving my room if there was even the faintest chance that Irene was still up.

The silence was broken by the ring tone of my mobile. I sat up suddenly, the room spinning momentarily in front of my eyes. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly and gripped the carpet, waiting for the motion to stop. I opened one eye then the other, before scanning my floor for my phone. Who would be calling at this time of night? Cassie had already phoned earlier in the evening, but that conversation was cut short by Irene knocking on my door and threatening to take my phone away permanently.

I spied my mobile sitting on my desk. It rattled slightly as it vibrated along the wooden surface. I reached up and grabbed it, not even bothering to look at the caller ID. I was beginning to become desperate for human contact.

“Hello?”

“Belle?” the voice on the other end was hushed, “Belle, are you there?”

“Drew?” I asked unsurely. I picked myself up off the floor and sat on the edge of my bed.

There was a loud crash followed by a large amount of static. I held the phone away from my ear temporarily staring at it, wondering if the connection was faulty.

“Drew?” I asked again.

“Belle!” This time it wasn’t a question, but a plead. “Belle, you’ve got to help me.”

His voice was hoarse and still barely audible over the noise. All my senses heightened.

“Drew, are you okay? What’s going on?”

“I can’t talk,” he said quickly, “Meet me on the beach.”

“But, we’re not supposed to –” I started to explain, when the line was cut off. There was nothing but beeping in my ear. I stared down at the blank screen. Drew had hung up.

What could he want at this time of night? If Irene found out that he called, let alone that he wanted me to meet him, she would lose her head. But he sounded frantic, so what else could I do? If he was in trouble, then I was not going sit around and do nothing.

I stood up quickly, grabbing my jumper off the back of my desk chair and began to head for the door. But I stopped. If Irene was still up there was no way I could sneak out without her noticing. I turned around, away from the door and gazed hopelessly around my room. There was no way out. My eyes fell on my curtain, fluttering easily in front of my open window. In two swift steps I was at the window sill and clambering awkwardly over the edge.

I saw a dark figure standing hunched over on the shore as I arrived. I walked along the sandy path down to the beach, my feet crunching the sand beneath them as I approached. He turned around at the sound of my footsteps. His hair was being tossed about in the cool night breeze and he hugged his jacket around himself tightly. His face was completely covered in shadow so I could not make out his expression. I stepped forward cautiously, waiting for him to speak.

There was a break in the clouds, allowing the full moon to show its face. White light streamed down on top of us, lighting up both our faces. Now that I could see, I saw that Drew’s face was sparkling. His cheeks wet; the tiny droplets reflecting the light around us.

Instantly I ran forward, grabbing him around the neck and pulling him into a hug. I held him close and squeezed my eyes shut. His body was stiff and unsure at first, but I did not let go. His shoulders slumped and I felt him bring up his arms and pull me in close around my waist.

We stood there, on the beach; swaying slightly in the breeze for what seemed like an eternity, but in reality is was probably only a minute. Reluctantly, Drew shifted his footing and pulled his face out of my hair where it had been buried. He used the back of his hand to wipe his cheeks, which were now even more damp.

“I can’t do it anymore,” he whispered.

“Do what?” I asked, although the tightness in my stomach told me that I already knew the answer.

“Everything,” he said, sighing.

I waited. Drew turned away from me and stood face on in the wind. He pulled his arms in around his chest and I saw his shoulders shudder.

“Mum hit the roof when we got home. I’ve never seen her this upset. Then she hit the bottle.” His voice wasn’t accusatory, or even angry, just frightened, anxious. I instantly wanted to hug him, hold him close once more and tell him that it would be okay, that we could find a way to fix things. He could come and stay with me. Irene would have to forgive us both if she knew what was going on. But I didn’t. I stayed still, my feet firmly gripping the sand.

“You can’t go back,” I said softly.

“Where else am I supposed to go?” Drew said his voice loud, suddenly turning back to face me, “She’s my mother, I can’t just leave her.”

I looked into his eyes, his dark irises practically invisible in the dark. The clouds had returned and we were once again swallowed in the darkness.

“I have to go,” he said, shying his face away and beginning to walk past me.

“We’ll sort something out,” I said, grabbing hold of his arm. He just shrugged it off and continued to walk, head bowed, back up the dunes leaving me cold in the night.

* * * * *

A/N: I think the previous chapter had the most comments of any so far. Thank you so much! I really appreciate the feedback and awesome reviews.

Sorry this one is a bit shorter than the more recent chapters. Hope it’s still up to your standards. If you’ve ever seen ‘Summerland’ then you will know where I got my inspiration for this chapter from.

[Jen]

Chapter 37 – Lock and Key

The door handle slipped out of my grasp before I could close it. The door swung back on its hinge with too much force and shut with a loud bang.

“Belle!”

There was an instant thumping coming from upstairs as I stood rooted just inside the door of the kitchen. My mind was still numb, slowly re-heating after spending so much time in the cold. There was a clattering of feet as Irene came down the stairs and hurtled into view.

“God save Ireland, Belle! What is going on?” she demanded.

Her face was crinkled after years of dealing with other teenagers just like me. I knew she had become the mother many kids never had. Her face showed lines of anger, stress and sleep deprivation, but I knew the only reason she was so furious was because she cared. Drew had a mother, but one that would never care.

“I’m waiting,” she said impatiently, “You have some serious explaining to do.” She tapped her foot impatiently on the vinyl floor and planted her hands on her hips.

I could feel a prickling sensation behind my eyes. I rubbed them with a fist and sniffled quietly, hoping Irene wouldn’t notice.

But she saw my face, and her stance changed in an instant. She dropped her hands and moved slowly forward towards me, arms outstretched.

“What’s the matter, love?” she asked. I stepped forward and she took me in a tight embrace. She hugged me tightly, pushing all the air out of my lungs. Tears overflowed onto her nightdress and I struggled to keep them under control.

But I wasn’t crying for me, I was crying for Drew. Knowing that he probably hadn’t experienced this feeling of love for such a long time, it broke my heart.

I hiccupped and settled on the lounge, Irene placing herself beside me. She handed me a steaming mug of hot chocolate as I finally told her everything. With every word about Drew, his mother, and the drinking, I felt my chest lighten.

“I want to help him so bad,” I said sadly, “But I don’t know how.”

“Well, we can’t do anything tonight,” Irene replied, patting the top of my leg. I noticed that she had said ‘we’, clearly her nature to help kids in need was greater than her dislike of Drew Curtis.

I shook my head. Waiting for the morning wasn’t good enough. What if things got worse tonight? I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened while I was sleeping. Drew probably wasn’t going to sleep, so why should I be so lucky?

“Can’t he come here?” I begged.

“I’m sorry, love,” Irene replied, “We have to think about what is best for Drew. And smuggling him from his mother in the middle of the night is not an option.”

“But , but –“ I tried to disagree. I had to make her understand. I had waited so long to tell somebody, that I felt that there was already so much time wasted. If only I had said something earlier, then maybe this wouldn’t be happening now.

“But, I love him.”

The words had slipped out before I realised what I had said.

“I know you do, love,” Irene said softly, “God knows why else you would keep something like this a secret for so long.”

I let out a tired sigh. My eyelids felt heavy and my eyes were empty. The cup of warm liquid remained untouched, and I placed it carefully on the coffee table.

“Why don’t you go to bed,” Irene suggested. I stared at her, willing her to let me stay up, even if I went to bed now there was no way I was going to be able to sleep. She patted my leg gently,

“First thing in the morning,” she said, “I promise.”

I gave her a hug, before heaving myself up from the lounge. I padded slowly to my room before collapsing on my bed, not even bothering to put on my pyjamas.

I was asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

-

I woke and dressed as soon as the sun was up. Irene insisted on breakfast while she made few phone calls before we could even consider leaving the house. I ate my cereal without even tasting it and was waiting for her by the door while she was still getting ready.

I contemplated leaving without her, but what would I do once I arrived at his house? Could I just walk straight in? What if his mother was awake? What if she wasn’t? I needn’t have worried, for as soon as I decided it was still polite to knock before entering the Curtis household, Irene appeared in the kitchen.

“Are we going?” I asked in anticipation.

“Yes,” she said, sighing.

I turned on the balls of my feet, ready to finally leave the house, but Irene interrupted,

“Belle, love.” I stopped and faced her, “You need to understand that this is a very difficult situation.”

“I know that,” I replied.

Irene took a step forward,

“What I’m saying, is that Drew may not be as receptive to our help as you might think.” She paused. I wrinkled my nose, contemplating this for a moment. Why wouldn’t Drew want help? He certainly wanted it last night.

Seeing my reaction, Irene continued,

“We are outsiders, Belle. They may think that it is none of our business.”

“But Drew needs help. He said so himself. He doesn’t want it to be like this,” I said slowly for emphasis.

“I know that, love. But we have to consider that he may not have told his mother how he’s been feeling. So it might come as a bit of a shock.”

I stopped. In all of it, Jazz Curtis had always been the one in the wrong. It was strange to think of her being completely oblivious to her own son’s feelings. No one could be that clueless, could they?

The car ride was long and silent.

I would have been happy to walk, but Irene insisted on driving. But at the speed Irene drives, it probably would have been quicker on foot. On the one hand I was eager to get there, to get Drew out of there. On the other hand I was also dreading it, hoping that the trip lasted longer so I wouldn’t have to face him again. Would Drew even want to know me after last night?

Before I could work out what I was going to say, we pulled into the driveway of the Curtis household. The lawn was a bright green in the daylight; the clouds of the night before had passed on. The white lace curtains were fluttering easily in the window. From the street, any passerby would admire the property on its neatness and well kept exterior. Little did they realise the devastation that was waiting inside.

The front door was open, the shiny gold key still in the lock. I glanced up at Irene who nodded encouragingly. I pushed gently on the door, giving it a small tap with my left fist as I entered.

“Drew?” I called out.

“Anybody home?” Irene called from behind me.

We both stepped into the living room. It was spotless. The glass and mess from my last visit had been cleared away.

The cushions were in their perfect arrangement on the lounge, fresh flowers in a vase on the coffee table.

Irene walked past me and into the adjacent kitchen, still calling “Hello?” or “Jazz? It’s Irene!”

I stared around the room for a moment before spying the staircase. I walked slowly towards it, carefully listening for any signs of life upstairs. There was a bang; the sound of a door slamming.

“Irene, I think they’re upstairs!”

Irene came scooting out of the kitchen. I climbed the stairs two at a time until I reached the top. I was looking down a hallway. Carpeted in white, it led to a single wooden door at the end. On either wall were similar looking doors, painted slightly off white, one was closed, the other open slightly so that light seeped into the hall. I heard Irene scuffle beside me. She quickly pushed past, approaching the door to my immediate right, the one that was open. She peered around the corner, gazing around the room. Letting out a gasp she began to grapple with her handbag and quickly produced her mobile phone. I forced my feet to move. The room with the open door was a spacious bathroom. The tiles of white glistened in the morning sun, matched with a perfectly clean porcelain basin and large mirror on the opposite wall to where I was standing.

The perfect room was spoiled by the figure on the floor. Jazz Curtis was slumped heavily against the bathtub, her eyes closed and neck buckled at an awkward angle. She was wearing a black pencil skirt and pale top, which matched the decor. I wanted to look away, and knew that I shouldn’t be staring, but for some reason I could not tear my eyes away. Jazz looked perfectly peaceful. It almost seemed a shame to have to disturb her.

I could hear Irene on the phone beside me,

“... yes, we found her like that ... In the bathroom ... She’s still breathing ...”

I knew it was crazy to want to leave her like that, but my first instinct was to slowly tip toe away and pretend that I didn’t see. This must have been how it felt to be Drew, like you were violating someone else’s privacy just for looking on. Drew! He had to be here somewhere.

Irene hung up the phone,

“The ambulance is on its way,” she said. She stepped into the bathroom and knelt down beside Jazz. She held her by the shoulders and shook her gently.

“Jazz,” she called. I watched as Irene grabbed a neatly folded towel that I hadn’t noticed before and placed it under Jazz’s neck.

But what about Drew? He wouldn’t have left her like that, would he?

I stepped away from the doorway and back into the hall. There were only two other doors; I instinctually headed for the one at the very end.

I knocked lightly, before slowly turning the knob. I attempted to push the door open, expecting it to be as easy as the front door downstairs. However, there was resistance. It was as if there was something on the other side stopping me from coming in.

“Drew?” Nothing.

“Drew? It’s Belle.” Still nothing.

“Please let me in.”

Finally there was a shuffling and the door moved free on its hinges.

Drew was on the floor, mere inches inside the doorframe. He had his knees pulled up to his chest, dark circles under his eyes, still dressed in his shirt from yesterday.

I knelt down beside him; the carpet was soft on my bare legs.

“What happened?” I asked, my voice was timid.

Drew began to rock. Backwards and forwards, still curled up in a ball. He hugged his knees tighter into his body, and I watched as he fell apart before my eyes. His breathing became deeper, more erratic. He squeezed his eyes shut; he hadn’t looked at me since I had arrived. Then he was crying. Not just a few tears, but shaking from the force of his emotion.

I crawled forward and sat beside him. I placed my arms around his body, pulling him in tightly.

We stayed like this until the paramedics arrived. Irene was talking with them in the hall when Drew finally pulled away. His cheeks were red, eyes swollen and lips pale when he finally looked at me. I leant in, placing my lips gently on his damp cheek.

There was a faint knock on the door, and both Drew and I looked up. Irene and a male paramedic were standing in the doorway.

“We are taking your mother to the hospital,” the man stated, “It looks as though she’s got alcohol poisoning.” He crouched down so he was almost at our eye level.

“Do you have any idea how much alcohol she might have consumed last night?” he asked.

Drew shook his head. The paramedic stood up and began to turn away. He was about to rejoin his colleague in the hallway when Drew spoke up, his voice surprisingly loud,

“I didn’t mean to leave her.”

Irene and the paramedic stopped and turned back. I shifted in my spot on the floor, looking back to his face.

“I didn’t know what to do,” he explained, “She was vomiting so much, I thought once it stopped she’d be okay.”

“Don’t worry, love,” Irene replied, “She’s in good hands now.”

We walked downstairs in silence and watched as Jazz was rolled into the back of the ambulance.

* * * * *

A/N: Wow! Thank you sooo much Georgia, Red Ranger 1, Lise, Bec, Laura, Zoe and meant2live for the awesome comments.

Not much left in this fic, me thinks. I hope you’ve liked it. There shouldn’t be more than 3 or 4 chapters to go. Maybe I’ll see if I can make it a round 40 chapters

[Jen]

Chapter 38 – Because of Belle Taylor

It’s all her fault.

It’s her fault I’m forced to sit here and watch as all the doctors and nurses stare at me like I’m a delinquent kid who wanted his mother to die. Every time they walk past they crinkle their brows, looking down on me like this is somehow all my fault. Like, at any moment they expect me to snap and go running into my mother’s room and tear her to shreds. But right now all I want is to be left alone, which no one seems to understand.

Irene has been pleasant, nice even, but I don’t want her to be. I wish everything would go back to the way they were before. When she hated me, was telling me off for hanging around Taylor and giving me the hairy eyeball across the counter of the Diner. Instead, she’s bringing me coffee and sandwiches from the hospital canteen and constantly asking how I am. How do you think I’m going? Everything is absolutely peachy keen. Not.

There was a creak of a plastic chair beside me. I looked away, refusing to look at yet another hospital worker trying to comfort me. I’m surprised when they didn’t say anything; instead I felt a small, cool hand slip into mine. I looked across and saw Belle sitting beside me. She gave me a half smile and attempted to place her other hand on top of my shoulder. I pulled my hand out from hers and shrugged her away. Another person fussing over me was not what I needed. I glanced back as she shifted awkwardly in her seat. She placed her hands under legs and swung her feet slowly back and forth.

“Irene told me that the doctor’s say your mum is doing well,” she said quietly.

I could feel her eyes on me, expecting me to say something. Expecting me to say that I was glad, to thank her for coming to my rescue this morning, and that I had been in to see her. But the truth was, I had been sitting in the same seat since they had wheeled my mother through the emergency doors, and refused to see her, even when the doctors gave me the all clear. I had nothing to say to her. She had made her own choices, and now she has to deal with the consequences.

“I guess you’re probably sick of everyone asking how you are going,” she began.

“Then don’t,” I replied bluntly.

I heard her let out a faint sigh.

“You can’t bury your head in the sand forever,” she continued, “Some things are going to have to change.”

“But what if the change is not for the better?” I asked.

“It can’t be much worse.”

“That depends on your definition on worse,” I muttered.

She was still watching me intently. I could tell that my response had puzzled her.

I looked up towards the nurse’s station at the end of corridor. There was a constant flow of people milling around, all dressed in horribly clean white uniforms, and those feral shoes that squeaked on the vinyl floor. But one person stood out from the rest. He was a tall man, with pale blonde hair, cut into short back and sides. He was wearing a black suit with a white, collared shirt underneath. He seemed too formal to be just another employee. I could see him talking intently one of the nurses. She gestured towards where Taylor and I were sitting, pointing directly at my mother’s door. He nodded before turning away from the desk and making his way towards us.

He’s probably a shrink. That’s all I need now. Not only am I going to be the freak show for this entire town once this gets out, but some snooty overpaid crackpot is going to try to psycho-analyse me in the process. Well, fat chance of that happening.

I lounged back in my uncomfortable chair and folded my arms defiantly across my chest. The man stopped in front of Taylor and I, positioned equidistant between my mother’s door, and my occupied seat.

“G’day, Drew,” he said.

I glared up at him, trying to give him all the non-verbal signals I could construct to show him that I was not interested in talking.

He looked from me to Taylor, and then back to me.

“Drew, I’m Peter Baker,” he said, “Your father.”

I could feel the shock radiating from Taylor. She instantly sat up more stiffly and glanced back and forth between Peter and myself.

“Great,” I muttered sarcastically under my breath.

Ignoring the ‘stay away’ vibe I was giving, he sat down beside me. As soon as he leant back in the chair and crossed one leg over the other Taylor instantly stood up.

“I’ll leave you guys to it,” she said, quickly scurrying off down the corridor.

I heaved a massive sigh, desperately wishing that Peter Baker would take the hint and leave me alone. Either he was very good at ignoring my wishes or he was so completely out of practice when it came to dealing with teenagers that he was just oblivious to my foul mood. Let’s face it, I hadn’t seen him for over 10 years, so either one was a real possibility.

“I’m sorry about Jazz,” he started.

“Don’t apologise,” I said bluntly.

“Fair enough,” he replied, “But I want you to know that if I had any idea that things had become so bad, then I would have been on the first bus down here.”

I rolled my eyes in response.

“You have every right to be angry at me,” Peter said.

“Good,” I replied, “Because I am.”

“I guess I had that coming too.”

He shifted in his seat. Putting his feet on the floor and leaning forward over his clasped hands. He looked over at me.

“Look, both me and your mother have made mistakes,” Peter began again, “But we both realise that it is time to take responsibility for our actions.”

I couldn’t argue with that, so I just shrugged.

“The doctors are recommending that Jazz goes to a clinic in the city to get proper treatment,” Peter explained, “You can’t stay here by yourself, so I was thinking it might be a good idea for you to come and stay with me for a while. Just until your mother gets better, then we’ll see what happens. What do you reckon?”

I was trying to listen, but even when he finished it took me a few moments to process that he wanted an answer.

“What makes you think I wanna go anywhere with you?” I replied shortly, finally shooting him a look.

His eyes were a pale blue, nothing like mine, but his hair had a distinct wave, that I must have got from him.

“So, you’re saying you’d rather stay here and witness what it is like to be the centre of town gossip?” he challenged, “Trust me. Been there, done that. It’s not much fun.” He wasn’t being aggressive, and despite the fact that we had only been talking for five minutes he already knew what I was thinking.

“I guess not,” I replied.

He gave me a pleased smile.

“Listen, I know it’s all a bit of a rush, but I’ve got work to tidy up back home, so I was hoping to leave today,” he said quickly, “We can go back to the house to collect your things on our way out of town. How does that sound?”

“Okay, I replied automatically.

We both stood up. My legs gave a little shake as I regained my balance. I didn’t realise how long I had been sitting in the same spot. I stretched my arms above my head and let out a long sigh. Finally, breathing freely. There was a plan and I didn’t object to that. It was the first time that an adult had actually taken control for a long time, and it felt good.

We walked side by side down the corridor, our arms swinging in a synchronised rhythm. The nurse at the station gave us a pleasant smile and nod. I looked away sheepishly, but my eye caught the line of sight of someone else. Belle was sitting beside Irene on a bench opposite the station. They both stood as we walked past.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“Belle,” Irene hissed, but Belle wasn’t deterred. She continued to stare, unblinkingly at me.

“I’m Irene Roberts,” Irene said politely to Peter.

“I’m Peter Baker,” he replied, “I don’t doubt that you’ve been informed that I’m Drew’s father.”

“Yeah, someone might have mentioned that,” she said, shooting Belle another look.

“I’m taking Drew with me back to the city,” Peter explained, “Get away for a bit. I’m sure you understand.”

“I think that’s a good idea, darl,” Irene replied, placing her hand on Belle’s shoulder.

Belle continued to stare,

“You’re leaving?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I said, giving her a half-hearted smile, “Because of you.”

I couldn’t bring myself to say goodbye. It seemed so final to say something like that, like it was definitely the end, when I didn’t know what would happen one week, one month or one year down the track. I wasn’t sure if I should blame Belle or thank her for what had happened. Right know the only thing I could be certain of, was that I didn’t have to hide, at least not for now.

* * * * *

A/N: Thank you so much for the comments. I wasn't really sure how I liked the last chapter, but it is so great to read some good feedback. Thankies!

[Jen]

Chapter 39 – How do you see me?

I returned home with Irene in a daze. It wasn’t until I stepped over the threshold of my bedroom that I realised how exhausted I actually was. All the stress and emotion of the past 24 hours seemed to have caught up with me. I flopped on to my bed, ignoring Irene’s offers for food or a drink. I lay on my stomach, just listening to my breath against the sheets. I closed my eyes blocking out the yellow light, just for a moment, but when I opened them again, my room was dark and I was underneath the covers, my shoes having been removed.

I sat up, disorientated, momentarily forgetting how I had actually come to fall asleep in the middle of the afternoon. Then I remembered; Drew.

I considered calling him, just to find out how he was going in the city with his dad, but decided against it. Drew had pretty much said see you later at the hospital. He was gone for who knows how long, there was no point harassing him. But what would I do without him?

As I stared around my room, it suddenly seemed very large for just one person. This was a strange feeling to have, considering I was constantly complaining about how there was nowhere near enough room for all my stuff. But sitting alone, in a dark room, with no trace of light, made me feel very insignificant. Drew had much more important things to fill his mind with, I was the very least of his worries.

I wonder what he is doing now? Probably sleeping, like you should be, Belle. But there was little chance of me getting much more of that tonight. I had fulfilled my quota by dosing off in the early afternoon. I wonder if Drew fell asleep on the drive back to the city. I could just imagine him leaning casually against the passenger window, his hair streaking out behind him as the wind blew through the car, and his eyelids closed, a relaxed smile on his face. Stop thinking about him! He’s not thinking about you anymore. Like he said, it is because of me that he left. “Because of you” Those were his final words. He probably hates me even more now. I made him leave the bay with a man he barely knew, to go who knows where for God only knows how long! I’d be lucky if I ever saw him again!

I could feel my eyes prickle with tears, which I wiped back furiously with the back of my hand. I pulled my cover around my chin and shuffled my way lower into my bed, allowing the sheet to completely cover my head. I pulled my knees into my chest and squeezed my eyes tightly shut and remained like that until the very first sunlight began to seep in through my window.

Cassie was knocking on my door as I was finishing getting dressed. I wandered into the lounge room, only to be bundled into her arms, followed by a bombardment of questions.

“Belle!” she exclaimed, “Are you okay? Everyone is talking about what happened with Drew. Is it true his mum OD’d? Colleen is spreading word around the whole town that she was found face down in a full bath tub of wine, that can’t be real right? Now everyone thinks she’s in some rehab clinic in America and Drew is being questioned by the police because he left her in there!”

I arched my eyebrows as the words tumbled out of her mouth. On seeing my expression, she stopped.

“Sorry,” she said sheepishly.

“Let’s get out of here,” was my reply.

I grabbed her by the wrist and pulled across the living room and out the front door.

As we walked aimlessly around the foreshore, I found myself talking. It seemed that as long as my feet were moving, I could explain things clearly. I became concerned of what would happen when I was forced to stop. Would I just clam up? Or something worse?

“I was so scared for him, Cass,” I said as we made our way down the pier, “Just the look on his face when I opened that door. It was like, I don’t know. His eyes, they were just so, frightened. He had no idea what was happening.”

Cassie nodded, allowing me to continue.

“And then by the time we got to the hospital, he had built a brick wall around himself. He wouldn’t say anything.”

“It must have been hard. Not knowing if your mother would survive, or if you had done the wrong thing. He probably felt completely alone until you turned up.”

“I guess,” I replied, “I just, I don’t understand why he couldn’t talk to me afterwards. I mean, I’ve practically seen him hit rock bottom!”

“Maybe that’s just it,” Cassie said as we reached the end of the jetty, “Drew’s a guy, plus he’s always had to take responsibility for everything. You saw a side he probably never meant for anyone to see.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just imagine you were naked in front of the entire school,” Cassie explained.

“What!” I exclaimed, “I would never take all my clothes off in public.”

“Just pretend,” Cassie replied, “How would you react when you had to go back the next day?”

I contemplated this for a moment. Cassie cocked her head to the side, waiting for my answer.

“I would be completely mortified,” I said, “I wouldn’t be able to look anyone in the eye. I’d just keep thinking that they would still be imagining me with all my clothes gone.”

“Exactly. You saw Drew at his most vulnerable, it’s no wonder he has tried to put some distance between the two of you.”

“Because he thinks that is how I will always seem him,” I finished.

I sighed, looking out at the big expanse of blue. There was no breeze, the ocean looking like it was a giant mirror; completely flat.

“But that’s not how I see him,” I whispered, more to myself than Cassie.

I felt a hand pat me gently on my shoulder. I looked over and gave Cassie a small smile in thanks.

“Did you want to go to the Diner, get something to eat?” she asked.

I shook my head,

“No thanks. I think I’ll just stay here for a while.”

Cassie gave me a small hug before turning and making her way back along the pier towards the shore. I turned back and sat down, letting my legs dangle over the edge.

Drew must know that I don’t see him like that. He is one of the most amazing and strong guys that I have ever met. And now he is in the city, thinking that I think he’s a weak little kid. Which is so not true! But how do I tell him, when he probably doesn’t even want to speak to me?

I pulled out my phone from my pocket and dialled Drew’s number. I could hear my heart pounding inside my chest as the dial tone rang. There was a clunk before Drew’s familiar voice filled my ears

“Hey, this is Drew Curtis. Leave a message.”

I felt myself being consumed by his casual tone. Always one to be direct; at least that was how it had been when I first met him. I didn’t even realise that he had stopped talking and was waiting for my message.

The sudden silence caught me by surprise. In haste, I pushed the button to hang up.

When did I become such a wimp? Drew probably wouldn’t have wanted to talk to me anyway. I’d be surprised if he ever wanted to see me again.

I continued to sit on the end of the pier, staring off into the distance. It wasn’t until the sun began to set, and cast long shadows along the beach and bathed me in orange light that I finally got up from my spot and wandered slowly back home.

-

Weeks passed and I attempted to get on with my life. I kept myself occupied by spending my time between school, working at the Diner for Irene and spending time with Cassie and Lucas (who now seemed to be my friend too, since he no longer had Drew to hang out with). And everything was working out fine; I had managed to go an entire week without thinking or almost calling Drew Curtis. Sure, occasionally I thought about what he might be doing, whether he had even thought about me since he left, but most of the time I made it my mission to keep my mind as occupied as possible.

The breeze was picking up as I made my way home from school. My hair was blustering about in the wind and I struggled to keep my line of vision clear. I hitched my bag further up my shoulder and swiped my fringe out of my face. I shook my head and let the air blow on me, closing my eyes momentarily.

I opened my eyes and looking into the distance I saw a dark shape. The figure was standing alone, hunched over the in the afternoon sunlight. They turned, a distinct mop of hair whipping around, and were now staring directly at me. Although I couldn’t see their face, I instantly felt my knees weaken. The posture, the hair, everything seemed so familiar.

He’s back! But he can’t be! Go, move Belle! Go talk to him! Why am I still standing here?

I wanted to talk to him. To run and tell him that I didn’t see him the way he thought I did. To hug him tight and never let him go, but my feet remained rooted to the spot. I could feel his eyes piercing through me, sensing my panic and eagerness.

I had worked so hard trying to move on, to not let his absence affect me, and at the first sign of his return I felt like I was back exactly where I started. So I ran. A quick rotation on my heel, I tore my eyes away from him and ran away.

* * * * *

A/N: Thank you very much for the feedback on the previous chapter, and the fic as a whole. The previous chapter is one of my favourites so I'm glad you all liked it.

Only one more chapter to go. I’ve been working on this for so long that it will be rather sad to see it all come to an end. Only a few more opportunities to comment, so please do.