I had to gulp down four more Dandelion and Burdock's and three shots before I was able to work up the nerve to ask Alex the question that had been burning in my mind since the moment I saw him.
"Why are you back in Sheffield?"
He was slow to respond. He seemed to turn the question over and over in his mind, like he wasn't really sure why he was there. I waited, a little impatiently, for his response.
"Because I missed this place," he said after a moment. "I missed everything."
He paused, his eyes scanning his drink and then flicking back to mine. "I missed you."
I nearly choked on the beer sliding down my throat.
"I know it didn't end well between us," he said, his voice softer than before. "But I thought about you, Dav. I would have called if I didn't think you hated me. You were my best friend."
I wanted to tell him that I did hate him. That he couldn't just waltz right back into my life after so many years. That I'd moved on and no longer needed him.
But I couldn't, because it wasn't true.
"You were my best friend, too," I told him, aching with sincerity.
"I'm glad that I ran into you," he said, cupping the back of his neck with his hand. "I think that's the reason I came here, really. I didn't know where the hell you'd gone after all these years, but starting my search at the Hellcat seemed like the best way to go."
I raised my drink at him. "Good call."
"I just want my old life back, ye know?" he said, looking around the room. "You and the lads and my parents. Just... everything."
"Why would you want this back?" I asked him, laughing. "Now that you've been all over the world, and stuff. You could choose to be anywhere."
He caught my eyes, but didn't answer the question. The corner of his mouth turned up and his eyes brightened suddenly.
"You know what we're gonna do tomorrow, you and I?"
My heart leapt, but I tried to keep my demeanor causal. "What?"
"We're gonna drive down to the Peak."
Nostalgia overtook me hearing him say that. Despite living so close to Peak National Park, I rarely ever thought about it anymore, because going there was completely out of the question. It brought back too many memories. We used spend our summers up there, messing around and getting drunk.
But where there were good memories, there were also bad ones. Because it was also the place where everything began to unravel.
But now that Alex was here, wanting to go back there with me, how could I resist?
"I mean, if you're free and all," he said, his excitement shying away a bit. "I mean, I completely forgot you're some big shot author now."
Big shot was a bit of an overstatement. To Break a Heart was the only book I'd published, and I'd had horrible writers block since then. The money I'd earned from it was beginning to dwindle a bit, and my agent Nichole had been practically begging me to just finish something.
"No, that sounds great, Al," I said, gladly choosing a day with my old best friend over a day staring at a blank word document.
And maybe that wasn't such a good idea. But I mean, what harm could it do? Knowing his flighty nature, he wouldn't be in Sheffield for too long. What harm could a day or two with him do?
"A lot, probably," the logical part of me thought. But I pushed it away, because with him sitting across from me with those eyes and that smile, how could I say no?
I was about to ask what brought it on, when his phone began to buzz. He apologized, getting up to leave, but then he stopped when he read the name on the screen.
"Hey, Jamie," he said, settling back on the stool. "You'll never guess who I found."
He paused, his eyes scanning me. "Yeah, yeah. She has."
She has? I have what?
"Alright, mate, if you want. Okay, sounds good. I'll see you then."
He hung up the phone with a grin. "The lads are on their way here. They want to come say hi."
I couldn't even remember the last time I saw Matt and Jamie. Well, I couldn't remember it in the great detail that I remembered the last time I'd seen Alex, at least. I think the last time I saw them was only a few days before Alex left.
The thought of it stung, and I focused my attention on picking off my black nail polish. Alex noticed, shaking his head with a laugh.
"You could never keep polish on," he said, his eyes glazing over slightly, like he'd gone back to the same place I was perpetually in. The place that held all of our memories. The place that I'd grown to fucking loathe.
We just sat there for a moment, and he looked me over carefully. "You look so different."
I raised an eyebrow.
"You used to be so..." he trailed off, still looking me over.
"Fat is the word you're looking for," I laughed.
"You weren't fat, Dav," he said, rolling his eyes. "A little chubby, yes, but not fat. And your hair used to be so frizzy. But look at you now."
I flushed a little. "You're one to talk."
He took a drink, his lips turning up. "But at the same time, you haven't changed at all. You're still just... Dav."
I don't know whether he meant the words as a compliment or not, but they hit me hard in my gut. Because I was, in fact, not just Dav anymore.
I was Emilia Davenport. I'd written a best seller, and had made enough money off of it to support myself. I'd ditched my frazzled, mousy hair that perpetually looked like I'd been electrocuted for a brown to blonde ombre that Elliot had talked me into. I ate semi-healthily. I went to the gym on occasion. I gave lectures about following your dreams at local schools in pantsuits, telling them overly rehearsed shite like "If you can dream it, do it", and "I turned my passion into a career."
I was sophisticated. I was independent. I was okay.
Or at least that's what I was trying to be.
Because after that all fell away, I was just the same girl I'd always been, sitting alone in the Hellcat thinking about a life I would never have back.
And despite this, I wasn't pathetic. Nor was I an idiot. That's why I couldn't help but notice the look in Alex's eyes, or the fact that they were glued to me.
He looked at me, for what felt like the first time ever, as if I were...
Pretty.
"I have to piss," I blurted.
Alex seemed to snap out of a trance. He kind of leaned back, laughing a bit awkwardly. "Go piss then."
I stood up, stumbling a bit. "Don't miss me too much."
He laughed and I dashed off to the toilets. I was relieved to find nobody else there, and I quickly washed my hands because I didn't actually have to pee and I didn't know what the hell to do. I just needed to get away from Alex, because I'd realized something that shook me to my core.
He still had power over me.
Alex always had this sort of magnetism about him, even without trying. People just went to him. And it was hard to pull away.
Really hard.
I looked at myself in the mirror, for a moment seeing my younger self staring back. Wild brown ringlets, freckled nose, green eyes...
But then I came to, and I was met by my normal, 26-year-old face. My now (mostly) honey blonde hair that I'd straightened for a meeting with my agent this morning, my light freckles. But my eyes were the same green they'd always been, and something about the security of them put me at ease.
"Get a hold of yourself," I whispered, taking the air spray can off the shelf and spraying it under my armpits. I think smelling like a canned version of summer lavender would be better than smelling like pure sweat. The last thing I needed was for Alex to know how nervous he could make me.
I patted my face with a towel and took a deep breath, deciding as I looked myself over in the mirror, that I was, in fact, quite pretty. And I'd worn a semi-decent outfit tonight as well, consisting of high waisted jeans an navy blue sweater.
"Alex Turner has no power over me," I thought, flipping my hair as to seal that fact into solid existence. "He's just an old friend, and I feel absolutely nothing for him."
I was feeling better when I walked out of the bathroom. But right as I opened the door, ready to take Alex on with a new and improved mindset, I ran smack into someone. We both stepped away, but the moment I saw who it was, a wide smile spread across my face.
"Jamie fucking Cook," I said, pulling him in for a hug before he could even say a word.
"Davenport," he said, hugging me back. "How've ye been, ye fuckin' wanker."
My mum used to always question why I hung around the boys, when they called me shit like "wanker" and "git". She never understood why I didn't hang around girls, who she assumed were a lot more polite when it came to friendly name calling.
And it isn't like I didn't like girls, or only hung around guys because there was "less drama" and all of that bullshit. Girls were fucking awesome, and I had plenty of girl friends at school.
But I'd been best friends with Alex since we both got detention in year 5 (him for dropping the f bomb in English, me for telling the whole school that the principal was a wanker), and he'd just sort of dragged me into his group of friends.
"I've been great," I said, pulling back. "What about you?"
He smiled, and it was the same shy smile I remember, and his cheeks were still as red as the last time I'd seen him. But he looked more mature now, with broader shoulders and bigger arms. But still the same old Jamie.
"Great," he said. "Really great. It's so weird to be back here."
Matt appeared then, handing Jamie a drink. His eyes passed over me just briefly, like he had o clue who I was, but then he gave a double take.
"Davenport?"
"Hey, Matt," I laughed.
He stared at me incredulously. "What the fuck happened to you?"
"I grew up, you prick. Maybe you should try it."
He pulled me in for a hug then, his eyes still wide when we pulled back.
"Your hair," he said, looking me over. "It's... blonde."
"You know, they came out with this really cool thing while you guys were on your massive world tours called hair dye-"
"Shut up," he laughed. "I just meant you're blonde. And fit."
Jamie made a gagging noise. "You did not just call Davenport fit. This is the girl that beat you and I both at not one, but two hot dog eating contests. The girl who made you literally throw up that one time at the Peak when she farted and-"
"Alright," I said, shoving my fist at his shoulder. "I think he gets it."
"I didn't mean fit as in fit," Matt laughed. "I just meant not fat."
At least someone was blunt about it.
He took a drink and slung his arm around my shoulders. "Davenport could never be fit. She's Davenport."
So much for my bathroom pep talk.
"Where'd Turner go?" I asked, looking over to our empty seats at the bar.
"Out for a smoke," Jamie said casually, heading toward the side door. Matt and I followed, still connected by his arm over my shoulder, laughing as we stumbled over each other's feet.
And as we approached the side door, which used to be our go to place for a cig, it occurred to me that this was going to be the first time the four of us were all in the same place at the same time in years.
And just the thought of that alone made me so deliriously happy.
But the moment that we pushed open the door and swung a left, any and every ounce of hope my naive fucking heart had left caught fire.
Because there, ten steps down the sidewalk, under the grimy orange streetlight I used to know so well, was Alex and a girl I'd never seen before.
She was leaning against the brick wall, my brick wall, with Alex, my Alex, in front of her.
No. Not my Alex.
I had a feeling I was going to have to remind myself of that a lot now that he was back.
His hands were on either side of her head, and she wrapped her long fingers around his neck and pulled him toward her.
And then their lips connected and something inside of me broke.
I felt like I couldn't breathe. I wanted to turn away, to run, but Matt's heavy arm was stopping me from doing so.
"Oi!" Matt called out to them. "Get a room!"
Him and Jamie started to laugh, but I couldn't even bring myself to blink. They were so nonchalant. Meanwhile my entire world was collapsing on top of me.
Alex looked over then. He looked at Matt first, laughing slightly, but then his eyes caught mine and his face changed.
I looked down at the pavement as he took the girl by the hand and started coming our way. My stomach turned to knots and all at once I wanted to vomit.
How could I have been so naive? How could I have expected Alex to be single? I mean, look at him. If he couldn't get anyone, then there was no hope for the rest of the world.
And why the fuck had it mattered if he was single or not? There could never be anything between us. He was my old best mate, for god's sake. He had seen in my grossest form, my saddest form, my angriest form.
And like he'd said earlier, I was still just Dav.
"Dav," Alex said when he made it to us, and I couldn't for the life of me bring myself to look up. "I want you to meet someone."