This Is England » Freddie Highmore

63.

RAIN POURED down heavily as I made my way back to my flat. I didn't bother inviting anyone over since I already feel like complete shit. Not only was today Max's funeral, but it was also the day that Amelia turned down my proposal. I hated myself for even trying to ask her for her hand in marriage. More importantly, I hated her for assuming that just because I was grieving over the loss of Max that I would simply regret marrying her. If I truly thought that I'd resent her for marriage, then I wouldn't have attempted asking.

Sometimes Amelia confuses me. It's gotten to the point where I'm not exactly sure where we stand. Are we in a relationship? Do I even want to continue to see her? Do I want her to clutch onto my bedsheets when I'm inside of her? Should I let her go? So many questions ran through my head. However, all I felt was bitterness and the only thing that could cure it was a shot of tequila.

As the many cars passed by, I walked the opposite direction of my flat and began to head over to a nearby pub. Where many blokes and females went to chase their problems out of the realms of their minds.

..

I slammed the fifth shot on the countertop. The pub's music blaring everything out except the loud screams and erupted laughter. I couldn't think for myself. I just felt dizzy and unwanted and unworthy.

"Another one, mate?" The bartender questioned, holding out the bottle of tequila in front of my shot glass as a sad smile formed on his lips. I nodded slowly. He poured another full shot and immediately after, I consumed it within the blink of an eye.

"Ye look lonely." I turned to my right to see an older woman in her mid thirties sitting adjacently to me. She had dark brown hair that cascaded halfway past her shoulders and was curled slightly. Her piercing blue eyes and pale skin made her presence alluring. In the sickened state that I was in, this woman's smile and voice was the only thing that made me feel like I was golden.

"What's going on, love? A handsome lad like ye should be out dancing, not in here with these arseholes." She rested her elbow on the countertop.

I took a quick glance at her exposed cleavage and then resorted back to looking at her face. "My best mate got shot a few days ago. Today was his funeral."

"Oh, no. . ." she replied, her face falling. "that's terrible. I'm sorry, darling." She reached out and touched my arm, stroking it with her thumb.

I shrugged. "Not only that, but my girlfriend, at least, I think she's my girlfriend, said no when I asked her if she wanted to marry me." I held out my shot glass to the bartender as he poured another shot.

The woman nodded in understanding. "Well, you're young, love." she said. "And any woman would be stupid to deny such a ravishing young man such as yerself." she ran her hand that was once on my arm on my head and stroked my hair back. "Yer girlfriend doesn't seem like the girlfriend type now, yeah?"

I bit my lower lip, then nodded. "Nope, I guess not."

"D'ye want to know who is the girlfriend type?" she asked, leaning over with a seductive glance.

"Who?" I replied.

"Me." she replied. She then took my hand and placed it on her left tit. "I can be your girlfriend for tonight. I can make you feel things ye never felt before. And more importantly," she said, leaning into my ear. "I can take all yer troubles away."

The thoughts of Amelia surfaced, but as the image of her smile came to mind, my heart, that was once softened by alcohol, had now returned to its bitter stance. I wanted to forget her for one night.

"What do ye say love?" She asked.

Before I could answer, I felt my phone vibrate. I fish it out with my free hand, and look down at the text. It was from Amelia.

I'm sorry about earlier. I hope you can forgive me. I love you Freddie. I love you so much and I just feel terrible. I get that you don't want to talk but I want you to know that. I'll be here when you want to call. ❤️

The woman in front of me put my phone down and turned it off.
"Forget her. She's a childish girl. What a man like you deserves is a woman."

The woman was right. "What's your name?" I asked her.

"Carolina," she replied. "But tonight, ye can call me anything you like."

I nodded. "Alright, Carolina," I replied. "show me what a real woman can do."

...