~Ava~

A few hours later, all I could feel was the alcohol from my two previous beers buzzing through my system. Masses of sweaty bodies rubbing up against me—hurriedly blinking the bright spots out of my eyes. The pink and turquoise and green lights were everywhere, the stench of booze and perspiration invading my nostrils.

But I wasn’t here to enjoy myself.

“Where are you?” I grumbled, searching desperately for any of the boys. Michael was sitting at the bar, but he was nowhere near as drunk as I wanted him to be.

Luke and Ashton were somewhere in the crowd, but I couldn’t find them. I was searching, growing desperate, hoping that they wouldn’t grow tired just yet and leave—my opportunity would be gone.

I pushed through the throng of people only to find Calum sitting with a few girls, talking animatedly. I shot one glance at him, drinking him in—his hair was frazzled, his gestures exaggerated; his mouth was warping clumsily and his eyes red and exhausted.

Perfect.

“Calum!” I called out, and he and the girls surrounding him looked up. I shot the ladies a look, “I need to talk with my friend.”

The girls looked like they wanted to argue, but then Calum slurred out, “Go ahead babes. Don’t have to worry ‘bout lil’ ol’ me.”

He shot them a cheeky grin and they reluctantly agreed, pushing their chairs back and leaving us alone.

God bless.

“Calum,” I told him, pulling up my own chair and sitting down across from him, lacing my fingers together and setting them on the table. I leaned forward, hoping the small recording device would be able to pick up our voices over the loud roar of the music.

“No,” Cal pouted like a toddler, “Go away Avey-wavey. I’m mad at choo.”

“I know honey,” I sighed, blowing out a long breath and wishing that there was some other way I could’ve done this. The guilt was suddenly rushing at me in a huge tsunamic wave, all of the regret I hadn’t felt before piling up on me now.

“I just want to know why, Cal,” I told him gently, hoping that he would soften up to me. His bottom lip jutted out into a childish pout, and his crossed his arms over his chest, almost tipping his chair backwards.

“You left us,” he accused in a small voice, staring straight at me. He grabbed the cup of liquor in front of him and took a small sip, closing his eyes and making a satisfied sound after he’d downed the liquid.

My heart stretched and my chest constricted, making it hard for me to form the next sentence, “I know,” I said quietly, “And I’m sorry.”

“You keep saying that,” Calum pouted, “But I don’t think you are. You—you would know what happened if you were really sorry.”

His eyes crossed, staring at his nose, and he shook his head rapidly, mumbling to himself. I leaned forward a bit more, not wanting the recording device to miss any of this, “What happened, Calum?”

“It was Luke,” he whimpered, and he groaned loudly, slamming his head down onto the hard surface of the table. I gasped at the sudden action, recoiling, but then I frantically asked, “Holy shit, Calum! Are you okay?”

“No,” he mumbled, very intoxicated.

He brought his head back up and glared at me as though I’d just taken away his favourite toy, except his eyes were red. His right hand came up to rub at his forehead, the spot he’d smashed on the table. My eyes widened.

“What did Luke do, Cal?” I asked him quietly.

He shook his head, “Was bad. Was your entire fault. You—you left us, you left him! You’re such a—such a bitch!”

He pursed his lips, his eyes tearing up, growing shiny. I sighed—a part of me felt bad, but another part wished that he would just spill whatever he was talking so animatedly about.

“We’ve acknowledged that, Cal,” I said, “What did Luke do?”

“He hurt himself,” Calum whimpered, burying his face in his hands.

Everything seemed to slow down for me. I don’t know if it was a side effect of the alcohol, or the fact that I was only slightly tipsy. But the bright lights suddenly seemed to get a whole lot brighter, the heavy thumping streaming through the speakers slowing down in my ears, as though I was hearing the sound underwater.

The people dancing moved like molasses, and my eyes were darting everywhere at once. Calum faded from my mind, my internship faded from my mind, and everything turned white for a moment. I blinked steadily, trying to grasp onto those three words, vaguely aware of the recording device inside my shirt.

“He hurt himself,” I repeated, my eyes staring off into the distance.

Calum nodded fervently, glaring at me with such venom that I shifted in my seat, “He fucking hurt himself. I went to his house—and he had a single cut on his arm…choo—choo can still see it, Avey-wavey.”

Calum suddenly blinked rapidly, and then yawned, “I like ponies. And I’m so tired. But I really like ponies—they’re so pretty.”

“They are,” I breathed quietly, closing my eyes. Abruptly, I stood, pushing away from the table and pursing my lips.

“Where’re ya goin’?” Calum slurred childishly, looking up at me with hooded eyes.

But I just blinked furiously, trying to keep the tears in. I had a feeling my eyes were red and shimmering, matching Calum’s now. Without answering him, I turned on my heel and walked away briskly, wiping at my cheek self-consciously as I went, even though there was nothing there yet.

Washroom. I need to find a washroom.

I pushed back through the sweaty throng of people, muttering faint apologies as I stepped on multiple feet. The lights hurt my eyes, and the stench of secretion made my stomach churn and my eyes burn even more than they were burning already.

I couldn’t wrap my head around what Calum had said. And I didn’t want to either, but there was no denying that I’d heard it, and I couldn’t get it out of my mind now. I’d left—I’d completely cut them out of my life.

And Luke—Luke.

I veered around a corner, hoping to find the washrooms somewhere in the hall. Instead, I was met with a dead end, dark lighting, and faint groans and gasps. My eyesight sharpened and my jaw dropped at what I saw.

I could just make out his blonde quiff, his 6’4 frame pressed against the wall, his long legs, dark skinny jeans, broad shoulders, and a Green Day shirt decorating his torso.

I remembered the day he’d let me borrow that shirt, the day I’d spilled milk all over my blouse at school, and he’d had an extra. For the rest of the day, people had asked me if we were a thing, if we were together, something I’d blush at and mutter a ‘no’.

My eyes trailed from his shirt to his face.

His lips were locked with a girl’s, and I let out a squeak.

Suddenly then broke apart, and his eyes shot open—crystal blue eyes piercing me, making everything slow down for the second time tonight. I was very aware that my eyes were red, and now, a tear managed to escape, trailing down my cheek.

The girl turned to look at me, and I gaped. Black hair, bright green eyes, lips that would curve up into kind smiles whenever I said hello to her at the front desk.

I would never look at that smile the same way again.

“Ava,” Luke breathed, and I picked my jaw up from the floor, stammering out, “This—this isn’t the washroom,” I let out a faint chuckle, knowing I must’ve looked absolutely ridiculous, laughing while tears ran down my face, “I’ll um—just go.”

I whipped around, practically running away.

Back door, back door, back door. Where’s the fucking back door?

Finally I found it and I pushed through, gasping at the impact my body had made with the barrier. I tumbled outside, feeling cool air hit my face, contrasting the sticky atmosphere inside. The back door led into a small alleyway, and to my right, I could see the lights of cars from the busy street.

I leaned against the wall, tilting my head back and feeling the brick dig into my scalp, trying to catch my breath, salty drops of water still running down my face. I wiped hastily at them, the backs of my hands coming away black from my runny mascara.

Fucking great.

Suddenly, the door banged open, and I jumped away from the wall, my head whipping to the side to see who my new companion was.

“What are you doing?” I blurted when my eyes landed on Luke. His blonde hair was messy, some strands falling onto his forehead. His eyes were hooded, and his lips were scarlet, probably from all the kissing he and Rebecca had indulged in.

The thought made me cry harder. Why was I doing this to myself?

Why was I crying?

“Why are you crying?” Luke asked me quietly, looking down at me. We were a few feet apart, and my hands came up to wipe at my eyes again, “None of your business.”

“Was it because of—?” he began, looking at my sincerely.

I barked out a laugh before he could even finish, “Don’t flatter yourself, Lucas. I—I don’t care.” I didn’t.

Or did I?

No.

“Then what?” Luke asked me, seeming to grow irritated.

I sniffled, and placed my hands on my hips, deciding to change the subject, “Why do you suddenly care, Luke? You’re not speaking to me, remember? You hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” he said quietly, looking at me with soft eyes. But I didn’t want soft eyes. I wanted his eyes to be hard; I wanted him to fight back, to get mad at me, to slap me. I wanted to forget about this entire night.

“Well I hate you,” I retaliated, and he took a step back. Immediately I felt bad, and my eyes widened, “I didn’t mean that.”

“I know you didn’t,” he told me knowingly. I looked up into his bright blue orbs, taking in his face. He was looking down at me caringly, his lips fading back to their soft pinkish colour. On cue, his took his lip ring between his teeth and played with it, making my body clench. There was the slightest shadow of stubble decorating his jaw, his eyebrows arched innocently.

I let my eyes fall to his arms, studying each one. And then I saw it.

I immediately reached forward with lightning reflexes, grabbing his left arm and turning it over.

“Ava, what’re you—?” Luke began, but I glared up at him, cutting him off.

I let my fingers trail along the pale inside of his forearm, and I felt him tense. My eyes snaked down to the inside of his wrist, and my mouth popped open in shock at the small, barely visible mark.

It was a single, light pink scar, almost blending in with his skin tone. My fingers fell to the palm of his hand, tracing swirled patterns and running along his own digits, and for a moment, I remembered what it was like to hold his hand as we kissed, as we cuddled at night, as he walked me to class.

“Why’d you do it?” I whispered, completely horrified.

He opened his mouth, “How’d you—?”

“Why’d you do it?” I merely repeated, cutting him off yet again.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed heavily, “You—you left me.”

And that was when I dropped his hand, shaking my head and wishing that the tears would stop. I looked up at him with wet eyes, my chin quivering lightly, “I need to go.”

I pushed past him, exhaling shakily and running my hand through my hair. My pace was quick and brisk, and he didn’t try to stop me—I was grateful.

And that was when I realised that I was walking away from him for the second time, not knowing what would happen the next time I would see him. The second time that he’d let me go.

I’d left him—again.

Notes

A lot happened in this chapter! Drama! Hope you liked it! I won't be able to update for several days, I'm going away for the weekend!

VOTE, COMMENT, and SUBSCRIBE! Let's make it to 60+ votes? And I only got one comment on the last chappy guys! Could we please bring that number up? ;)

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