Page 66 of Just a Number

Iget home late the next night after a shift at the bar. I’m dead on my feet. As I wheel the bike up the driveway and tuck it behind the tall hedge, I look up to Mel’s room. Despite the late hour, I can see light coming from behind the curtains. I haven’t seen her yet today and I’m tempted to knock, but I feel grubby after a long, busy shift and decide a shower is my top priority. I grab my pack from the bike and trudge over to the garage and up the stairs to my apartment. But when I get inside, I keep thinking about her light being on and I decide to send her a message:

Me:

Hey, how are you doing? I saw your light was on.

It shows as delivered but not read, so I peel off my clothes on the way to the shower, leaving my phone on the bed.

I’m back out ten minutes later, a towel wrapped around my waist, while rubbing my hair dry with another. I get the shock ofmy life when I find Mel on the chair by the television, sitting on her hands and biting her lip.

“Hey, I hope you don’t mind me letting myself in. You didn’t reply, and I need to talk to you.”

“Yeah, no worries. What’s up?”

She sighs, her eyes tracking the movement of the droplets of water trickling down my chest. “I came over to say I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”

“What?”Where is this coming from?I chuck the towel I’d been using to dry my hair on the bed and stand with my hands on my hips, waiting for her to go on.

“It’s been amazing, but I don’t think it’s really going anywhere, and I don’t want your friendship with Zack to suffer. I think it’s best if we just cool things completely.” She’s gazing up at me with a look of genuine sorrow. I try to remember what Abby and Cassidy were talking about when they accosted me in the cellar and predicted this would happen, but I get caught up in Mel’s expression and the sadness I can see there.

“Why don’t you think it’s going anywhere?” I ask, frowning.

“I’m too old for you, Alex. It’s been fun, but I think both of us know this won’t end up being anything serious.”

“Not if you won’t give it a chance.”

She scoffs. “You mean to say you’ll be happy as a thirty-five-year-old being with a fifty-year-old? I don’t think so.”

“I’m happy as a twenty-five-year-old contemplating a relationship with a forty-year-old. I don’t see how that’s any different.” Her eyes well with tears. “Please, Mel, give it a chance. If you’re stopping this now because of me and Zack, he’s not going to forgive me anytime soon. I need to learn to live with that, but I don’t want to live without you as well.”

“There’s no future for us, Alex. What will people think when they see us together? I don’t even know if you want kids or toget married. I can’t see a way for us to turn this into a proper relationship.”

“Where’s this all coming from? This sounds like it’s more than what happened when Zack found out. What’s going on?”

“I bumped into some old friends, no, acquaintances, last night. It made me realise that people are always going to judge us. I don’t think I can handle that. I don’t want to ruffle feathers.”

“What does it matter what other people think? Why are you letting that trip you up? I’m sure Zack will come around eventually when he realises this thing between us is serious. No-one else matters, Mel. Don’t let judgey people stop you from being happy.”

Her tears spill over and I can no longer hold myself back, striding over to draw her up from the chair. I bring her into my arms and enjoy the warmth in my chest when she lays her head down on my shoulder.

Chapter twenty-seven

Mel

Alex draws me into his arms and it’s wonderful. I press my head to his shoulder, even though I know I should be pushing him away and leaving before this gets out of hand.

His bare skin is warm under my face and it’s comforting when his hands come up to wrap around me. And it’s that feeling of him taking such good care of me that brings out the full-blown sobs. My shoulders heave and I struggle to catch a breath as the tears fall down my cheeks. There have been so many tears lately and I’m tired of it.

“It’s okay, Mel, we’ll figure it out. I promise,” he whispers, while continuing to stroke my back. I must just need the outlet because as fast as the sobs come, they disappear while we hug each other.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble against his chest.

“What for?”

“I shouldn’t even be here. I don’t know why I’m upset. I should get out of your hair. It’s becoming a habit to cry all over you.” I try to pull away, but he firms up his grip, holding me in place.

“Take as long as you need.”

But I struggle to stay there, awkward now my crying bout has come to an end.