Heya!!
Sorry for the two week delay. FINALLY finished studying (well, for the test but not for our half-yearlies!!) so I should be updating like once a week from now on. This chapter it's finally IN THE PRESENT/future, however you want to look at it. I'm going to do a 6 Years Later thingy so you know it's present. So, like, the part where they break-up is in 2004 and now it's 2010. You catch my drift?? Yeah. Enjoy!!
Ana
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6 YEARS LATER (PRESENT)
<GEORGIA>
"So, aren't you excited about the hen's night, tomorrow?"
My eyes widened as I looked at the floor and chewed on my lower lip. Crud, I had forgotten about that. I mean, this WAS the first time I'd ever been a Maid of Honor. I don't exactly know what's procedure.
"Hmm, guess not. Well, I think it will be exciting. No strippers though, I don't think I really like it when guys lather themselves in oil. Besides, I'm fine with Nick. You know what I'm really waiting for?" Steph quizzed me.
"The vows?" I guessed, knowing that Steph was everything romantic.
"Well, yeah, I guess, but the honeymoon period! Imagine how . . . creative we'll get!"
"What? Are you going on an art camp or something?" I asked, utterly befuddled.
"No!" Steph laughed, "We're -"
"It's okay, I just got it. No need to explain. So, um, when's your rehearsal dinner?" I asked.
"It's on Friday night. Four days away. Then in a week, it will be my wedding," Steph squealed, "I am SO excited, I'm going to be a MISSES!!"
I gave Steph a tight-lipped smile. I wanted to ask about Bryce. I would, but this was Steph's day. This was HER week. I can't ruin that because of something that happened eons ago.
"Oh, and . . . Bryce kind of forced me, or else I totally wouldn't have, but um . . . he made me invite Rachel to my hen's night and she already said she'd love to come. Rachel's his girlfriend, by the way . . . in case you couldn't figure it out."
"Oh. No, I figured it out. That's okay. That's fine. Bryce is my past. No need to fret about it. No need to be jealous of some girlfriend of his if I don't even like him anymore," I reassured her with a wide smile.
"Oh, Georgia, you already are jealous of her and you haven't even met her yet." Steph smiled at me softly and sadly.
"I will tomorrow night."
"Oh . . . I was going to surprise you but it might just be a shock so I might as well say it now." Steph took a deep breath and let it out, as if she needed to brace herself for the incoming information instead of me. "Bryce is dropping her off."
"Oh. That's not so bad. God, I thought you were going to tell me you were pregnant or something."
"'That's not so bad'?" Steph repeated. "You guys haven't seen or talked to each other in YEARS! And no, I'm not pregnant. Please, you and Bryce is bigger than a person coming out of somewhere down there. You guys were the model, teen couple. Innocent, young, studious, cute! Then caput! You were done! Just like that!"
"Don't remind me Steph. I'm older now. I'm twenty-three. I was seventeen when I was with Bryce. Now, I have a child, a struggling home business and I'm taking uni part time. I don't need a man right now. So, let's just focus on you this week, okay?"
"Fine," Steph said reluctantly. "Where is Harriette today anyway? Besides, she's technically not your child."
"She's with Ivy. And I raised Harriette, she may not be blood related to me but I love her as much as any other mother would. Probably more since I could actually lose her any moment to her real mother."
"How are you planning to explain Harriette to Bryce? Or Harry? They could easily mistake it to be Harry's."
"Well . . . whatever, you know? They can think what they want. I mean, I'll at least tell Harry it isn't his and say I got knocked up or something when I moved to New York. Ivy made it clear she just wants to know Harriette, just not be her mother or announce it to the world. Besides, how bad do you think Harry would feel? Not only does the love of his life slash best friend cheat on him and use him, but she gets nocked up with another guy's baby in the process."
"True. But Harry's a banker, you know? Numbers," Steph replied cryptically.
"And?"
"He'll do the math!"
"I don't have to tell him her birthday. Look, Steph, let's just focus on you right now. So, you still want shellfish for your entree? Have you made sure no one's allergic?"
I looked at Steph who was staring at me blankly. I knew she wanted to discuss more but I was too tired. Finally she gave up and sighed.
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I stared queasily at the long mirror. Was I too dressed up? I was wearing a cream, silk shirt that reached just past my elbows. I had worn a mini black skirt under it, only reaching up to the high area of my thighs. I was wearing very translucent, almost transparent, black stockings with suede beige ankle boots. I had embellished my clothes with gold accessories. And, as usual, my hair was free and slightly messy. You know what? Who cares what I look like. I'm a working, single mother and this is my night out!
Besides, all the attention will be on Steph, and knowing her she'll look stunning as usual. This was her night as well.
Feeling all revved up, I stepped out into the cool night air. Steph was waiting patiently with well made up eyes and tousled, curly blonde hair in the yellow cab. She gave me an approving smile before I ducked into the cab. Rachel and Bryce? I would get over him. I AM over him. It's been six years. He was my first love; he's an ex, that's all he is. A past. This is now.
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Okay. So maybe I'm NOT over Bryce. Maybe I'm a LITTLE jealous of Rachel. Maybe six years wasn't enough. Maybe the past IS now. How did I come to this amazing conclusion? How come I'm now sitting next to a laughing Steph with a forced and polite smile plastered onto my face as I death stare Rachel?
Well, Steph and I arrived to the club. All we were going to do was mingle, get revved up for the wedding, drink and dance. Her college and work friends were there. We were all introduced and Rachel was running late. I tried not to judge. Then and there I felt like throwing up - sorry, I STILL feel like throwing up. All over her gorgeous, patent, black Louboutins of course. What twenty-three-year-old has that much money to buy hot shoes like that anyway? So, after staring at the club's door for about ten minutes I see him.
He looked different, and a little unrecognisable in the club lights but I know it's him. His hair is much darker, a little more on the brown side but still with a small tinge of red. He's smiling at no one in particular and his shallow but visible dimples are clear to my eyes. His eyes are still that beautiful, special, electric blue. His hair was shorter, cropped and he had a slight stubble, but I knew it was him. I could tell from his black shirt printed with 'NO HERO' to his scuffed white sneakers that it was him. Definitely him.
And he looked achingly hot. He looked blissfully happy. It made me reminisce for a short second, how happy I remembered he looked when we were together, but that second was long enough for tears to threaten to ruin my smoky eyes. It made me feel guilty all over again and VERY queasy and nervous. I swallowed and smiled though. I wasn't going to let it get me down. I wasn't going to let him see that I may still possibly like him. Possibly because he's the first and last guy I've loved and when Harriette's screaming at night I just can't help thinking of him.
Then I turn my back on him. I didn't want to look like I was waiting for him. I didn't want to look desperate. I knew I was now, but he didn't need to know, because he had a girlfriend now. Then I smelt that familiar smell of normal washing detergent and a little spray of deodorant. I almost laughed out loud that he still smelt familiar. That, despite things, he was still similar. So was I. How I felt. And it sucked.
"Hey, Steph! Hey, girls. This is Rachel, my girlfriend, so be nice." He sounded familiar too. That jovial tone, that tone where you can just tell he's smiling. His voice was a little rough, as if he needed to cough or drink, or maybe as if he'd been sick.
I realised I was the only one of the girls who had their back to him. I hastily turned around and gave a big, cheesy smile. I was cringing inside because I must've looked like a girl who was on her first day of kindergarten - eager to learn and eager to please. His smile noticeably faltered a little but he kept it strong. His strong arm was around a petite, brunette asian with a big cheesy smile that must've mirrored mine. Her skin was light with golden undertones and her cheeks were high and rounded. She had thin glossy lips and straight, layered hair. Not only that but she looked so stunning I wanted to stab her or splash some wine on her white top.
She waved her hand. "Hi! I'm Rachel! It's all nice to meet you guys!" Her voice was so high; it was like listening to a child that was high on sugar. The girls, including me, murmured a hello back.
Bryce's eyes were on me and I felt like I'd be like Alice and shrink any moment. As if looking at Bryce would be the same as drinking the potion on the table that was labelled 'Drink Me'. "Georgia, it's nice to see you again," he said with a tighter smile, as if he was forcing it. Just like mine. He cleared his throat loud enough I could hear it over the din of the DJ and the chatter around us.
"Yeah. Nice to see you too. Good to see you're doing well," I replied, smiling and nodding at him. We stood there in an awkward silence for a second or two.
"You guys know each other? How? How come I've never seen you before?" Rachel, who I'd forgotten was even there, asked, bursting with excitement and curiousity.
"She's my-"
"I'm Steph's best friend. And we used to go to the same school, so yeah. It's been a LONG time since we've seen each other because I've been living in New York." I gave Rachel a wide smile after glancing at Bryce.
"Uh, I should get going now. The guys are waiting! Have fun, babe," Bryce said giving Rachel a peck on the cheek. "Have fun girls!" He called out as he exited the throbbing club.
Babe? I repeated to myself as Rachel walked past me and talked to the other girls and Steph. Bryce had never called ME babe. I mean, not that I'd necessarily want to be called 'babe' just wondering. I mean, I'm not a 'babe'. I'm Georgia. I have a name. I - think this conversation in my head is totally pointless as I can see Rachel making easy friends with the group and I'm thinking I want to trip her over.
Also, why did I interrupt Bryce? What would he have said? Was he going to say, 'She's my ex'? Or 'She's my old friend'? WHAT? I wanted to kick myself for trying to guess. I think I interrupted because I didn't want to know. If he said ex it would mean that we REALLY are gone. That there's no possibility. EVER. I mean, I know that already but it would be so much more obvious. I mean, looking back, he stormed off in an angry haze and I ran away. Doing that left no time to actually discuss anything, were we over? Or taking a break? Or giving each other the silent treatment? But if he said old friend I think I would've punched him because was that all we were? Because we weren't.
I pulled Steph into the bathroom to rant. I know this was her night. But I was panicking. I wanted to go shove a straw down someone's throat or crack a beer bottle and start one of those bar fights you see in Western movies or like the one in the second movie of The Pirates of the Caribbean. I gripped the sink's edges and breathed loudly.
Steph patted my back. "I know it's hard. I know -"
"Does she have to be so chipper?" I interrupted, "does she have to be so . . . BRIGHT? Does she have to dress so well? Does she have to be frickin' perfect?!" I took a deep breath again. I noticed that Steph had started laughing and I death stared her reflection in the mirror.
She gave me a wry smile. "Honey, see? You're jealous of her already. It's not because she's unnecessarily and annoyingly 'chipper' or the fact that she looks like she stepped off some asian movie set but it's because she's with Bryce. It's because he had his arm wrapped around HER. I don't know how to overcome envy because it's a very big green-eyed monster. Just try to tolerate it at least. For me, please? Just for tonight and for the rehearsal dinner and the wedding. I mean, if you're lucky they'll break up in a matter of four days," Steph offered with a shrug.
I shook my head. "No. Steph, don't do that for me. Don't wish them bad luck for me. This is MY problem. This is YOUR day. I need to remember that and to stop forgetting it. Come on, let's go outside."
. . . and that's how I ended up here. We're just chatting now after some exhausting hours of dancing and a little drinking on my part. A little because after the whole One-Night-Stand fiasco that ruined my past love life I pretty much detested alcohol. At least I had made a couple of new friends and a lot more acquaintances out of Steph's friends, meaning I won't be a loner at her and Nick's wedding.
I inwardly groaned as I saw Rachel coming out of the dancing crowd, thumping with liveliness, and joining me on the smooth, long, electric blue lounge. She smiled at me and dramatically sighed and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand.
"Woo! Getting tiring in there! Didn't you want to dance?" She asked me, her breath heaving, proving it HAD been tiring.
"No. I'm not in the dancing mood today." I wanted to tell her to go away. I mean, I know I'm behaving like a massive bitch, even if it is all in my head.
"Oh. Well . . . You're the only one of the girls I'm not well acquainted with yet so I figured I'd talk to you. Keep you company and all."
She was so achingly nice. She would never hurt Bryce. No wonder Bryce was with her. "Thanks," I replied, "but you can go back if you want to. I just . . . feel dead today." I gave her a small smile and hoped she took the message.
She did. "I'll see you at the rehearsal dinner, then."
Yeah. I'll also see Bryce.
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Analysing things, I think I know why I still like Bryce. I mean, I think it's partially because I'm attracted to him, chemistry and hormones aren't exactly something you can turn off and on like a switch. If it were, I wouldn't need to analyse how I felt and why. So apart from attraction, I think it's that Bryce and I never finished. He shouted, I ran. He blamed, I apologised. Then nothing.
It felt like reading a great book and stopping in the middle, not knowing it's further potential; not knowing what would've happened. That and I haven't felt about anyone like I did with Bryce. I had a short fling with a guy in college but I had Harriette, I still do. With a struggling home business, a child and just life in general, it wasn't really like having a guy was my main concern.
That was probably why my thoughts would drift to that night, to the morning after. I would pick it apart like a puzzle, even though the picture was complete and clear: I messed up. I would continuously wonder, Would it have been better if I didn't sleep with Harry? Would it have been better if Ivy didn't cheat on Harry?
The questions I asked myself were endless, and meaningless, to answer. The only question that mattered now was: What's going to happen now that I've met Bryce again?
**This chapter is dedicated to my beautiful, young art teacher that recently passed away on Friday the 14th. She was one of the most talented teachers I'd had, also the most patient and kind (considering the people in my class). She left a beautiful baby boy and her husband, as well as her mother and the rest of her family. R.I.P. VM**
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Sorry for the delay. I hope you enjoyed this chapter!!