A Life Less Average

twenty-nine

lewis

I pushed myself forward, my feet hitting the pavement with ferocity. I had my headphones in, music blasting, but somehow I could still hear the slapping of my rubber soles on the concrete. 

It was freezing cold. Mid-December. But I had been running for over an hour. My blood was boiling and my heart was thumping in my ribcage. The warm sweat that was dripping from my body was keeping me warm. 

It had been three days since Poppy and I had last spoken. Our argument outside The Venue had been so stupid but there was something that had stopped me picking up my phone. She had walked away from me. She had left me standing alone in the dark alley. 

She never did answer my question though. If there was nothing going on between Poppy and the bartender, then what made Rebecca say that? How did she even know they were friends? 

I stopped at the corner of the street. It was dark. Night had rolled in hours ago, and the roads were empty. Lights in bedrooms were beginning to turn off and I knew I should head home if I planned on getting any sleep tonight, but my brain wouldn't shut off. 

Running usually helped. It cleared my head completely. Left me with a clean slate. But this time was different. This time my thoughts were tangled like spaghetti and I couldn't get them straight. 

Who was telling the truth? Poppy or Rebecca? 

I knew in my heart that I should trust Poppy. But why was I so full of doubt? 

I collapsed onto the pavement and pulled my phone out of my pocket. I pressed dial and she answered on the second ring. 

"Hello?" she sounded tired. I checked the time. It was just after ten. Was she already in bed? 

"Rebecca. Sorry if I woke you." 

There was the faint hum of the television playing in the background. "You didn't wake me. But why are you calling me at this time?"

"What you told me after the dance," I started. "Was it true?" 

"Was what true?" 

I imagined her curled up in bed, phone hanging limply in her hand as she focused on the screen in front of her. It frustrated me that she wasn't giving me her full attention. She was the one who had thrown a knife into the cogs of my relationship. She should be taking this more seriously. 

"About Poppy cheating on me," I snapped. "Was it true?" 

"Well, what did Poppy say?" she asked.

 "She denied it, obviously." 

"Hmm."

"Were you telling the truth or not, Rebecca?" 

There was silence on the line. I checked my screen to see if she had ended the call, but she was still there. 

"Answer me!" 

"I have to go, Lewis. I don't want to get between the two of you." She hung up before I could tell her that she already had. 

I threw my phone across the road with all the strength I had and listened to the it clatter on the ground. A man walking his dog shot me a look, questioning why I was hanging around on the street corner at such an hour on a school night. I lowered my head and collected my smashed phone before walking the long distance home. 

It was just after eleven when I fell through the door. I was shivering though I didn't notice until my mum wrapped her arms around my body and squeezed me tightly. They both stood examining me. Mum reached for my broken phone in my hand and held it up to me, as though I hadn't already noticed. 

"What happened?" she asked, concern written across her face. 

I shook my head. "Nothing. I got angry. I'm fine." 

"What the hell is wrong with you, boy?" my dad asked. His arms were crossed tightly over his pyjama top. The bottom of Homer Simpson was poking out underneath. 

"I'll pay for it," I told them. "Don't worry." 

I started towards the stairs, but they blocked my path. 

"Lewis." 

I wiped my face with my hand. I was exhausted, mentally and physically. I just wanted to curl into a ball and sleep for three years, but I knew that the minute I climbed into my bed, I would just see Poppy. Poppy beside me, her head on my chest. The look on her face as I asked her about the bartender. Her smudged eye makeup as she had screamed at me. The complete and utter look of betrayal that had taken over her. 

"I'm fine," I told them.

They didn't believe me, but they knew better than to press on. I would tell them in my own time, I always had. But now just wasn't that time. 

They moved to the side to let me pass and I jumped up the stairs and crashed into the bathroom. I took a long shower, letting the water turn ice cold before I hopped back out. 

I knew that I needed to talk to her, but I needed to calm down first. And I needed a new phone. Dammit.

I dried off quickly and changed into a t-shirt and a pair of plaid pyjama bottoms. My mum refused to put the central heating on during the night. She had always said it was a waste when we could just double up on blankets and fill a hot water bottle up. She was right, naturally, but the race from the bathroom to my bed was always a painful one.

I crawled under my duvet, feeling the weight of the last few days knock me down. 

After Poppy had walked away, I had found Paul stood by the bouncer and we had left. I had wanted to go inside and talk to the bartender, but Paul had convinced me it wasn't a good idea. There was no point picking a fight when we didn't know for sure whether there was anything to fight over. Rebecca could have been lying for all we knew. We needed the truth. 

I rolled over and pulled the covers closer. My hair was still damp, leaving my head freezing cold.

I had never been in this position before. I liked facts. It was one of the reasons I loved the sciences so much. Everything was based on hard, proven facts. It was objective. There was nothing to doubt because research and experiments had been carried out. 

It was killing me not knowing the truth. Two people were telling me different stories and I couldn't seem to pick a side. 

I laid in bed staring at the ceiling, hoping that sleep would eventually take me. But it never did. I was staring at the street light outside my house through the gap in my curtain as my alarm clock blared out. I slowly reached across to my bed stand to turn it off and crawled out of bed. 

My eyes were sore and my limbs heavy. I dressed into black jeans and a black hoodie and slid out of the house before anybody could stop me. If I was going to have a chance of talking to Poppy at school, I was going to have to see her at the gate before the first bell, since there was no chance I'd see her throughout the day. 

I was the first one there. Not even the teachers had started pulling into the carpark yet. 

I stood by the side of the main gate, my hands shoved deep into my pockets and my hood pulled over my head to keep the cold out. I didn't even have my phone to pass the time with. I just had the passing cars, and slow moving students that drifted past me to watch. I eyed every single person that walked by, watching out for her pink hair. But for all I knew she had changed her hair again, and I started staring at faces, waiting for her eyes to flicker over my face. 

But she wasn't there. I didn't even see Faye's curls pass by. 

Where the hell were they?