Lottie Loves Read online

  Joe Davies, back in my life. Who would have thought it?

  Chapter Fourteen

  I simply sat there for a moment, allowing my mind to wander, and I found it slipping back into a very unexpected place. Although it was a monumental moment when it came to me and Joe, it wasn’t something I thought of a lot…mostly because it was a confusing memory I didn’t much enjoy.

  It was our very first kiss. A moment I’d been waiting for forever. I’d thought about it, planned it out, practiced on my hand…all for it to be a let-down. Nothing like what I’d been expecting. I remembered being happy, because it meant all of my dreams were on their way to becoming true, but I was gutted too, because it just didn’t feel right. There was something about it that left me a little cold.

  I guess, looking back, that was to be expected, considering the situation surrounding us, but at the time I just didn’t see it that way. I just felt deflated afterwards, as if was my fault that his life wasn’t going the way he desired.

  It was the day of our mock exam results, and he was shocked to discover he hadn’t actually done very well. I didn’t want to mention that this was all he could expect from a life of partying, and mucking about with his group of mates, because I knew that would crush him. So instead I sat next to him at the end of his garden, hugging him as he fell apart, listening to him groan that he couldn’t understand it, crumbling as his future suddenly didn’t seem so bright. To me, the solution was clear—he needed to get his head out of the high school bubble, he needed to realise that these wouldn’t be the best days of his life, that there would be so much to his life than just this, but it didn’t feel appropriate to say. I didn’t want him to get angry at me for speaking the truth when he didn’t want to hear it.

  “What am I going to do, Lotts?” he asked me, giving me a look of sheer helplessness. “How am I going to come back from this?”

  “Well, I’ll help you,” I gasped at him seriously, growing increasingly excited about the prospect of spending even more time with Joe. Things were much better anyway, and I wanted to take that one step further. I figured if I could start tutoring Joe, I could drag him away from the idiotic ‘popular crowd,’ and we could go back to being the us we were when we were younger, the us I loved so much. “I’ll go over everything with you, I have extensive notes from all the classes, maybe I could get you back up to where you should be…”

  I trailed off because he was giving me a strange look, one that had my heart thundering loudly in my chest. As his eyes shone with an emotion I didn’t quite recognise, I gulped down the massive ball of emotion that had lodged itself firmly in my throat. My ears buzzed, and my eyes swam. I had the intense sense that something monumental was about to happen…I just wasn’t quite sure what it was.

  “You’re always there for me,” he murmured thoughtfully, his gaze falling to my lips. My blood boiled inside of me as I shifted uncomfortably where I sat. I felt scrutinised, weird, and I didn’t know what the hell to do. “No matter what, you’re always there.”

  Then before I could even think, before I could grasp what the hell was happening, his lips had smashed against mine, and his hands were tangling themselves up in my hair. My instinctive reaction was to pull back, to find out what the hell was going on with Joe, but then the realisation screamed in my brain that Joe was kissing me, and that it might be the only shot I ever got.

  My heart raced so quickly I feared it might burst from my chest, a fiery spark lit within me, and although it wasn’t quite what I’d been picturing in my mind—it was far too desperate and needy for that—I felt alive, tingly, and I knew this was proof that we were meant to be. I knew we’d finally overstepped that mark, we’d crossed the line and there would be no coming back from that, but I was excited. I felt this was how things had meant to be all along.

  As we finally pulled apart, and we gazed into one another’s eyes, I thought I could see some shock there, almost as if he hadn’t quite expected to do that. I didn’t mind that though, I was certain I looked the same. In that way, it was really the perfect moment—in my mind, at least. It was spontaneous, unexpected, and incredibly excited.

  “I…” I started to speak, to ask him the millions of questions floating through my mind, but before I could get anything out, we heard Joe’s mum calling him home. Usually this wouldn’t mean too much, we would hang out for a little while longer, but this time he jumped up rapidly with a regretful look in his eyes, and he raced away.

  It’s just because he needs to think things through, I tried to reassure myself, as I trudged slowly and sadly to my own home. He just needs to sort out his own feelings.

  Out of an intense desire to recall this situation fully, now that I’d started thinking about it, and wanting to be armed with as much knowledge as possible, I raced back to my diary, and I flicked through the pages until I found the relevant one.

  26th May 2007

  I just kissed Joe.

  I don’t even know how to describe it, it was utterly the best moment of my life. All of my dreams couldn’t even begin to imagine how good it was going to be. I can’t even believe that I’m writing this…after all the heartache, all the wondering, it’s finally happened and now we can actually be together.

  This is the best thing ever!

  That account of the evening was so glaring false, I couldn’t actually believe I’d written it. I felt like I must have been so desperate for things to be perfect that I even lied to myself about it. But then, as the night drifted on, I mustn’t have been able to sleep, because I wrote more in scruffy, two a.m. style writing.

  It was weird, really strange. It wasn’t quite what I thought it was going to be, and I’m scared about that. Did I just build it up too much in my mind, that it was never going to be as good as I expected? Or does that mean something else? I don’t really want to admit it, but I’m scared. I’m afraid it means we aren’t meant to be—after all, that’s the dream that has kept me going for so damn long now—and I’m also frightened that Joe racing off like that means something.

  He has kissed lots of people, not like me, so maybe that means it was rubbish for him.

  Oh God, I can’t even handle the thought I might have screwed things up by sucking at kissing, what would that mean for me? I was so wrapped up in my fear and confusion of the moment I didn’t really concentrate…that might have been my downfall.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  I feel like all of this has made my feelings worse. I feel like now that Joe has given me something back, that he has given me that glimmer of hope, my obsession with him is even worse. I can’t sleep, my brain is whirring like crazy. What will I do if he turns me down? How will I even get through the rest of school? It’ll be humiliating, absolutely gutting. I might just die.

  Maybe I can ask Mum to let me move schools, maybe that will be the best thing for me. For us both. I mean, I’ll still have to see him at home and stuff, but it wouldn’t be the same…

  I could remember that feeling, even now. That teen angst, that utter heart-ripping sensation in my chest. I was devastated, broken, a total sham. I hated that I didn’t know how Joe was feeling, and I didn’t know how we would act around one another in the future, and the anticipation damn near killed me.

  This was quite similar to what I was going through now. I didn’t really know anything about Joe’s life, I had no idea where he’d been and what he had done during our years apart, which meant I couldn’t tell where his mindset would be at now.

  Then again, where did I want his mindset to be at?

  Did I want him to still have feelings for me, even though I was in a relationship with another person? Of course, that was very wrong, but I couldn’t deny there was something there, swimming around inside of me. Maybe it would be easier if he was with someone else, even if his social media didn’t reflect that. If he was married with kids, then that door would be shut forever, regardless of what happened with me and Danny. It might hurt, it could have me feeling hollow and empty, but I would ge
t through it…I would have to.

  Oh God, this was crazy. What the hell was I thinking? Was it too late to cancel, or would that make me seem like a flake now? Would it leave the unanswered questions haunting me forever? Would I ever be able to move on if I didn’t? I wished I could have someone to talk to, someone to ask the advice of, but I didn’t feel like it would be appropriate. Of all people, Cici would be the one I would speak to, but I didn’t want her to judge me, to see less of me. The last she knew, I was devastated over what had happened—and she was the one telling me Danny was more than likely innocent—now, I was considering meeting an old flame. It sounded seedy to say it aloud, and I wasn’t keen on the idea being looked at differently.

  No, this was a decision I would have to make alone. I was the only one who understood the situation fully, and I was the only one who knew exactly how I was feeling. I would just have to hope the decision I made would be the right one. My entire future depended on it.

  Chapter Fifteen

  As soon as I stepped into the bedroom where I spent my teenage years, I felt the last few years just float away. It didn’t help that it had been kept exactly the same ever since the day I left, despite the fact I swore I would never be back no matter what happened. Of course when I said those words, I didn’t know how things were going to turn out, so maybe Mum was smarter than I ever gave her credit for. The floral duvet covers I thought were ‘sophisticated’ at the time, the odd shade of lilac I decided to paint the walls, the endless photographs of me and Joe all over the place…it was like a shrine to the person I once was, and it made me really uneasy. I felt a little strange with his eyes watching me from every single angle, like he could see me, even though I knew that was impossible. How the hell did I ever manage to survive in this when I had all those feelings for him? It felt much more nightmarish than comforting!

  “So, you will let me know if you need anything?” Mum asked me, standing awkwardly in the doorway as if I was some unwelcome houseguest, rather than her daughter who’d spent the majority of her life in this house. “I don’t want you to feel weird. I know it’s been a long time…”

  “I’m fine, Mum,” I snapped back quickly, needing to put an end to this conversation. Things were all right at the moment, but Malcolm would be home soon. Who knew how things would be then? “I’ll be out a bit later on, anyway.” I half hoped I could avoid him for the most part, and I was certain he felt the same. He probably wasn’t even working overtime, as Mum had suggested. He was probably just keeping as far away from me as he could without offending everyone.

  “Oh…will you?” She sounded a little stunned by this, which didn’t really surprise me. I had made out that I’d only come to stay to mend my broken heart, now I was saying I would be out having some fun. “With who?”

  I bit down on my lip hard, trying to stop Joe’s name from coming out. I knew it’d make me feel good to shock her, to make her think about the past again too, but I actually did want to be able to get out tonight. I didn’t want to sit there like a child having an intense inquisition all night long, especially when I didn’t have any real answers for her yet. “Just some friends, Mum, people you don’t know,” I eventually decided upon. She gave me a look like she didn’t quite believe me, but fortunately it mustn’t have been worth her time because she clamped her mouth tightly shut. “I just need to get out and blow off some steam, stop myself from going insane.”

  “Oh, of course.” She looked a little ashamed at that, like she should have known that was what I’d need. I didn’t know why, it wasn’t like we knew each other anymore, so I certainly didn’t feel like she had to understand me at all. “Well, like I said, I’m here. If you need anything, I mean.”

  I could tell it pained her to leave me alone while she wasn’t quite sure what I was up to, but thankfully she did anyway. There were obviously a lot of unsaid things between us, but we’d become so used to that by now we’d accepted that was the way it was always going to be. Once she was gone, I thought over the text message I finally received from Joe to confirm our date…no, meeting, not date. I could not allow myself to think along those dangerous lines. I had no idea where it would lead.

  Joe: Hi Lottie, it’s Joe. Did you still fancy going for a drink? How about Saturday night at 8 p.m. at The Stag?

  I felt like I could hear the little inside joke there, the flashback to when we were kids and we looked forward to celebrating our eighteenth birthdays anywhere other than The Stag. In our minds, it was the place where all the old people went to drink, we saw ourselves as so much cooler than that. Yet here we were, making the plans we never thought we would. I’d replied, to say that sounded good to me, but that had been it as far as communication went. Much as that left me feeling a little frustrated and confused, it was probably a good thing too. Catching up on each other’s lives would be much better as a face-to-face thing, rather than over cold, impersonal messages. In a way, it would make things that much more exciting. We’d never really communicated too much via technology anyway, so this was a lot more us.

  I wandered around my room, looking at each of the images in turn. Once upon a time, these photographs were so ingrained in my psyche I could have closed my eyes and still seen them. I knew exactly which picture was where, and exactly how Joe looked in each and every one of them. Now, as I glanced at them all, it made my insides feel weird. Ever since I first saw the more updated picture of Joe, that image of him had overshadowed the way he looked when he was young, so seeing him that way again was oddly unsettling. Actually, seeing me that way was much worse. I looked so youthful, so hopeful, so full of dreams. Despite all the teenage angst that filled my diary’s pages, I always looked happy when I was with Joe.

  There was one picture of me and Joe, sitting at the bottom of my garden, which must have been taken by Mum. We were too young in the picture to have any of the complications of feelings, but from the way our heads were pressed together—we were sharing an inside joke—I could sense the spark was still there. We were probably just far too young to recognise what it was. Then I looked at the close up picture I took of his face when I’d decided to become a professional photographer. We both laughed at the time, especially when it was printed, deciding that portraits just weren’t for me, but I was always secretly proud of it. Yes, it was a little blurry and part of Joe’s head had been cut off, but I always felt like I captured his charismatic, fun-loving personality well. It was just him all over. Then there was the one image I took of us kissing. At one point, I’d hid it behind another, not wanting anyone else to see it, but at some point I must have stuck it to my mirror, where it still resided now, taunting me, reminding me of what could have been.

  There were other pictures of course, some of me with Emily, the odd one of me standing awkwardly at the edge of a group of girls looking like I would never fit in, but none of them drew me in right now. None of them held any interest right now. There was also another picture, the only one I had of my father, but that was nowhere to be seen. On the day I’d asked Mum for it, and she’d given it to me, I stuffed it in the back of my drawer where I vowed I would never look at it again. The temptation was there, deep inside of me, clawing at me to look at it, but I couldn’t. Not knowing he had his other family out there, the people he cared about much more than he did me…

  Eventually I could barely stand it anymore, the memories became a little too much, and they made me far too nervous for tonight, so instead I stared out the back window, over at the garden where so much had happened. With Malcolm having some great gardening skills, he’d changed the entire look of the yard into something much better, but all I could see as I gazed out was the overgrown mess it had once been, with intense, powerful, life changing events clinging to every blade of grass.

  My eyes grew wet with tears, as the emotions started to become a little too much for me, but I didn’t allow any of them to fall. For the moment, I actually wanted to be strong, I didn’t want to be the mess I’d become over the last few days. For some r
eason that was really important to me. But then my eyes fell on Joe’s childhood home, and it became damn near impossible. His parents may not have lived there anymore, it might belong to someone else these days, but I didn’t feel like I would ever be able to see it as anyone else’s home. Even if they’d moved to the other side of the country, rather than across town, I still wouldn’t have been able to see it as anything but theirs.

  I spotted a teenage girl dancing in the dining room window with such a carefree spirit, it almost made me laugh aloud. She wasn’t like me, stuck in what felt like a hole with no escape. I wondered what hopes and dreams she had for her future, were they anything like mine? Would she actually follow through with them? I always assumed I would, but of course my happiness was crushed by an intense, powerful heartbreak. One I didn’t think I could survive again.

  Maybe, because of that, I’d never really given myself the chance to move on. Maybe that was why I was still so drawn to Joe, despite everything. I guessed it was all something I’d never really accepted, I just sort of…coped, carried on because I had to. Maybe I didn’t deal with any of it properly, which had gone on to impact me and Danny. I always thought I’d given myself to him fully, and that I hadn’t really considered the past at all for years, but maybe that was just the lie I told myself to help me carry on. One that had come out the second I heard he was going to ask me to be his wife.

  Maybe, if I hadn’t ever fully committed to Danny, if he could see that I couldn’t, maybe that was what had caused him to stray. I didn’t want to blame myself for something that really could have been prevented, but with the undeniable evidence simply staring me in the face, it was difficult not to. It also hadn’t escaped my notice that I was sort of just assuming what the newspapers were saying was the truth, but without him here, defending himself, what else was I supposed to think?