Page 58 of Still Falling for You

After a few rounds, I feel so drunk I can barely keep my eyes open. But even in my state, I spot Alex weaving through the crowd, a phone to his ear. Immediately, my phone startsringing in my bag with the familiar tones of Florence and the Machine’sDrumming Song. He follows the direction of the tune. Immediately, he scans my dress, his eyes hitching up the two open buttons. His face turns into a confused scowl.

Without hesitation, I grab Tom by the shirt and kiss him on the lips with all the intensity of my anger and betrayal. He doesn’t expect it but doesn’t resist either. There are hoots of approval from around the table, and when I pull away, half the room is cheering. Turning as white as a sheet, Alex hangs up and puts his phone in his pocket. His expression turns from addled hurt to impenetrable cold. Tom’s hand rests on my bare knee, and I let him leave it there, even though everything inside me is screaming to jerk away. As soon as Alex is gone, I push Tom away and lock myself in the bathroom. Crying, I dial Catherine’s number.

‘Can I stay at yours tonight?’

‘What’s happened?’

‘I’ve done something awful.’

*

I still remember how the next day Vicky told me that she went to speak to Alex about me and argued with him. But instead of listening to her reason, he told her he liked her all along. Then he suddenly started kissing her, and she was so shocked, she only pulled away too late. When she told him no, he just shrugged and spent the rest of the evening snogging Sara. I didn’t believe her until the next day when I saw him with Sara, whispering and laughing together by the lockers. He didn’t give me a second look. That was that; we were done. A few months later, we graduated, and I was convinced I’d never see him again.

I’m laden with decade-old guilt. It presses against my chest and threatens to suffocate me. Thoughts chase each other in my head until it’s a jumble of old and new memories of Alex.For the first time, I feel like significant pieces of the story are missing.

I look at my phone again and decide to deal with the lesser evil of the two unread messages. John.

hey i’ve heard you had to leave in a hurry today. i hope your ok. If you want to talk i’m here x

I’m done with John and the rest of the male population. His message only confirms what I already know about him and myself. I will not settle for a two-faced man with ambiguous motives and who doesn’t know the difference betweenyou’reandyour.

I’m fine. Thanks for the offer, but you are the last person on earth I’d want to talk to right now, to be honest. Please leave me alone.

After the message is delivered, I block his number.

Next, I decide to deal with Vicky. I’m surprised she picks up on the first ring.

‘Hi, Vicky.’

‘Oh my god. Holly. I heard about your dad. Is he OK?’ She sounds genuinely worried, and I tense up for some reason.

‘He’s going to be fine. How have you heard?’ I feel so exhausted, I lie back on the bed, banging my head against the headboard. Wincing, I massage the back of my scalp.

‘Your mum texted mine. I’m glad to hear your dad is OK. You sound awful, like you need some cheering up. Why don’t we go out and try to do that? I know just the right place.’

I tell her it’s the last thing on my mind. It shows how much she knows or understands me.

‘OK. Just let me know if you need to get out of the flat. I’m at your beck and call.’ She laughs quietly. She’s about to hang up.

‘Vicky?’ My voice is croaky, and I shift the phone from my left hand to my right. I stare blankly at the ceiling for long moments, unsure what I want to say.

‘Yeah?’ She hesitates at my strange tone.

‘Do you remember when you told me Alex was after Sara?’ I’m not sure what I’m trying to ask or what I want to hear back. ‘How did you know? I mean, who told you? Did Sara speak to you about Alex showing interest?’

For a long time, she’s silent. ‘Everyone knew. It was common knowledge. Why are you rehashing old history? What has Alex done?’ she says with unexpected bravado.

I force a neutral tone into my voice. ‘No. It’s nothing. It’s just something that has popped into my head. It’s stupid.’

‘Well, that school of yours doesn’t sound like the best place for you if it makes you relive ancient memories and reopen old wounds.’

We chat some more, but my mind keeps flitting back to the past. Not long after that, we hang up, and for the first time, I have a feeling that Vicky is not being entirely honest.

The next day, I get a surprising call from Mother that Dad is awake and is coming home, so I shouldn’tbother to go to the hospital, quoting my mother. She tells me that he’s doing well, and it would be better if I came over to their house because it would be more comfortable for my dad.

On Saturday, I pick up my car from work and head to my parents’ house. There’s no room in my body for any more dread. I’m so tense my shoulders are permanently locked in a hunched position over the steering wheel. I park on the road because both my parents’ cars are parked in front of the house.

My mother opens the door after the first knock clad in a salmon-pink cocktail dress that looks like it was taken from a ’50s edition ofWoman & Homemagazine.

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