Just Another Reason I Could Never Forget You

“I don’t want you to go,” I whined, dramatically clinging to my best friend.
“Don’t be a pain, Rae,” she laughed, only vaguely attempting to get out of my grasp. Give she was taller than me, I was honestly no more irritating to her than a toddler.
“But I’m surrounded by boys!” I continued in the same whiny tone.
“You’ve survived the last two years, I’m sure you can cope for another few weeks.”
“Ugh, I hate you,” I said, releasing my grip on her finally, pouting nonetheless. “I need better friends.”
“I’m the best god damn friend you’ve ever had. Now, let me go home so I don’t flunk out of college like somebody else I know,” she laughed.
“Fine!” I sighed. “But, I didn’t flunk out, so back off, okay?” She laughed, nodding. “I’ll see you soon, Rissa. Love ya.” I separated myself from her completely begrudgingly leaving as she turned to say her goodbyes to Jack. I couldn’t quite explain why this goodbye felt so hard, despite all my joking around, I genuinely was going to miss her more than I could begin to explain.
I kicked at a stone on the ground as I meandered back toward the buses, not really sure what to do with myself now. I know I had John to go back to, but I kind of got the impression he felt a little left out when Marissa was around, especially as he had been my absolute best friend for the last 2 years and I doubted he really knew how to share that role. Don’t get me wrong, he loved Marissa, but it was a difficult adjustment, I guessed.
“You miss her already? Really?” Alex chuckled from ahead. I looked up, seeing him leaning against his bus with a smirk on his face.
“Bite me, asshole. She’s my best friend and I love her,” I pouted back.
“Aw, poor baby,” he cooed sarcastically back at me. “How will you cope?”
“I don’t know,” I fake-frowned. “You got any vodka?” I grinned mischievously over at him, causing him to throw his head back and laugh loudly.
“It’s barely noon, Hol,” he said, his laughter dying a little though not fully.
“So, you’re saying you do have vodka?”
“Of course I have vodka, but I’m not giving you any this early in the day,” he chuckled. “But, I do have a new coffee maker with some fantastic beans.” I raised an eyebrow at him, an amusing smirk beginning to form on my face as he laughed again. “Alright, I’m a bit pretentious, but it’s good shit and we can talk about anything other than your best friend leaving.”
“Ugh, fine, I’ll settle for hyperaware rather than dulled senses,” I conceded playfully.
“Fantastic, just the way I like a girl.” I laughed loudly at him, shaking my head and biting back some sort of retort about how he loved drunk girls, instead moving toward the bus door and allowing him to let me in.
“You know, it never occurred to me that I haven’t asked you what you’ve been up to these last few years,” I mused, leaning back on the sofa as he messed around in the kitchen. Honestly, his coffee maker looked like some sort of torture device, and I’m sure if I ever attempted to use it, it would be torture.
“This and that,” he shrugged. “Honing my coffee skills in an attempt to win you back.” He glanced over, grinning at me as I laughed at his comments. It felt like good fun, rather than being serious, so I took it as playful banter. It reminded me of the way we’d always been before.
“I don’t drink it much anymore,” I admitted. “In fact, I’m pretty sure I get the shakes if I drink coffee more than once a week.”
“You’re kidding, right?” He laughed, glancing over his shoulder at me once more. I was distracting him, that much was clear, but he kept turning back to the coffee regardless. I shook my head briefly before he turned away from me. “There was a time when you shook if you made it two hours into the day without like three cups.”
“I used to stay up until ungodly hours poring obsessively over my notebook and drinking other substances that were terrible for me. At least I gave up one of those habits.”
“Oh, God, you did,” he said, tilting his head back and looking at the ceiling as he remembered. “You didn’t go anywhere without that thing. The notebook, not the alcohol.” He looked back down at the counter, pouring the coffee into two mugs, bringing it straight over with the assumption I still drank it black. I did, but that doesn’t make it less of an assumption. “You used to scribble in mine if you didn’t have yours to hand, do you remember?” I nodded, remembering the amount of times I dove into his backpack or across the table to scribble something I usually hated an hour later, but seemed earthshattering at the time. It felt like a different time, the way I’d devoted myself to something so hard and it was now hardly a blip on the radar. “I know you’re not up until ungodly hours anymore, but do you still writer?”
I hesitated before I let out a soft, “no.” The single syllable felt like I was betraying my former self, as if she would spring from the corner of my mind just to berate me for losing myself like that. It had felt like my identity, all encompassing, but then there had been Alex, and he had truly been earthshattering.
“How come?” He asked, a little softly, but still merely curious. He’d known me so well back then that this revelation must undoubtedly have shaken him, but I simply shrugged.
“I lost my inspiration,” I admitted. I didn’t want to say what I meant, that losing him had made me lose my inspiration. I had buried my feelings so deep in the months after I left Maryland that I couldn’t put them onto paper and I didn’t even know how to let anything out, never mind something passionate. I was basically obsolete and even John couldn’t reach that far into me to drag me out. “Anyway,” I shook my head, “you didn’t tell me anything about what you’ve been up to. I know touring and stuff, and the album, but what about your mom and dad? Or, ooh, any girlfriends?” I attempted to gush to shake myself from the thoughts of times past.
“One or two,” he nodded, taking the hint that I was done talking about anything difficult.
“And a fuck tonne of one-night stands?” I smirked back at him. He chuckled, shaking his head at me.
“And a fuck tonne of one-night stands,” he acknowledged. “But what’s new there?”
“I miss that,” I told him, feeling a weird nostalgia for my teenage years. Nostalgia not directed at my relationship with Alex. That was unusual. He had reminded me how much I’d changed and it was throwing my through a loop, but I didn’t want to dwell on the bad.
“What, getting fucked up and having no one to go home to afterwards?”
“No. That sense of freedom we always got on a Saturday night when we got wasted with someone new.” I mulled over my words for a second, debating what to say next. “After you and me broke up, I was too scared to get involved with anyone else. I couldn’t get into a relationship, because you’d hurt me, and I couldn’t have stupid one-night stands because the last one I’d had was with you and that had become a shit show.” He frowned, taking in my words. When he finally looked at me, his eyes showed a mixture of sympathy and guilt, but I knew he’d hold both of those back. He wouldn’t apologise again, he didn’t need to, and I definitely didn’t need his sympathy.
“So, uh, how did you manage to forget me long enough to make something with John?” I knew he was half-joking, not bitterly asking about my forgetting him, merely trying to lighten the mood. I laughed lightly before responding.
“I’d known him for nearly nine months before we hooked up. He’d been pining and making doe eyes at me the entire time, but then one day he told me he loved me and, well, one thing led to another. It was me not thinking about it that made it happen.”
“Wow. So, you guys have been together, what? 18 months? A year?”
“Not exactly,” I told him, shaking my head. “That was early last year and, well, I cut him off after that for a bit. We’ve only been a thing for a couple of weeks now. Beginning of the month, maybe?”
The moment I let the words out, I knew I should have kept my mouth shut. I had all but admitted to him that I’d lied about being in a relationship with John when he first showed up. I watched as the realisation dawned on him. I’d become so comfortable over the last few days that I’d forgotten he was the reason I’d gotten myself into this mess. I hadn’t even thought about telling him the truth, I just did it.
“Were you together when the tour started?” I hesitated, going back to my same old uncertainty. I needed to be careful about what I was saying, but I’d started down the path of honesty here and I didn’t want to start lying again.
“No,” I responded softly. If Alex had grown like I thought he had, maybe he wouldn’t be angry. I didn’t know who I was trying to fool there, not even believing the lie myself. Alex was human. Emotionally mature or otherwise, anyone would be angry about the lies I’d spun. And, yes, they were lies. No matter how much I tried to tell myself I hadn’t lied, I had. It had been a deliberate omission. I had deliberately not told him I was single, knowing he would assume otherwise.
“So, your relationship with him is to spite me?” He spat, his face showing his fury. I cringed, not knowing what to say. We’d been getting along so well.
“No!” I clambered for a response that would calm this anger but I didn’t know what to say. I thought being honest with him would be fine, but he’d already gotten so angry. “It just… it just happened. He’s liked me since forever and… I don’t know. I called you out on your shit, faced my own shit and he was still there, he still loved me, and I realised I’d liked him all along too.” He paused, looking at me, still angry but not entirely sure what he wanted to say next.
“Bullshit.” I was taken aback. He was so calm in how he said it, but he was still clearly angry with me. What was bullshit? My reasoning? My feelings? My timing? “You did what you always do. You got scared and you jumped onto your backup guy. You were hurt, so you jumped on your backup guy. You’re running and hiding like you always do.”
“Alex, come on. I wouldn’t do that to John. He’s my best friend, he—”
“I think you should leave.”
I wanted to argue. I wanted to continue telling him that John and I were perfect and I had had no underlying motive in forming our relationship. I wanted to talk it out with him, but I didn’t know if I could push this that far.
“I’ll see you later,” I sighed, pushing myself up. It was pointless to argue and I knew it. No matter what my motives had been, or if I’d had no motive at all, Alex would still stick to his own theory. It made sense to him, therefore it had to be true. Admittedly, the beginning of John and I’s relationship had been less than straightforward, but that just about summed me up. I did nothing in a straightforward way.
“Hey, darlin’,” John grinned widely from the sofa as I entered the bus. I smiled softly at him, still shaken by my argument with Alex, trudging over and curling up next to him. His arm immediately found its way around my waist, pulling me a little closer. “What’s wrong?”
I opened my mouth, ready to tell him that nothing was wrong and why would he ask that, when I realised what I was about to say. My gut reaction had been to lie, and yet I’d thought nothing of telling Alex the truth.
But what did I say? In what world could I say ‘I had a fight with Alex’ that didn’t put me into a fight with John too?
“Alex found out about us,” I tried to shrug. “It sucks. We were just becoming friends and now there’s more drama. I’m getting bummed out with all the drama.” I tried to focus on the drama and how I didn’t need it, but even I could see that it wasn’t what I was focussed on.
“What about us?”
“That this,” I gestured between us, “wasn’t a thing three weeks ago.” He shrugged himself now.
“Sucks to be Alex.” I snorted, hitting him lightly on his chest.
“Be nice. You promised.”
“I thought I was allowed, since he upset you.” He grinned at me, telling me he wasn’t remotely taking this seriously. I felt my mood lightening as I looked at him, reminding me I had made the right choice.
“Oh, you did, did you?”
“Mmhmm.” I hardly noticed him moving closer until I felt the warmth of his lips on mine.
“Next time, just do this,” I muttered to him, pulling him closer.
“Noted.” I felt his lips on my own again almost instantly, pushing me back softly. I felt hesitation in him, trying to hold back his desire, but I had no time for it. I wanted what I’d wanted for a while: I wanted to lose myself in him. The kiss was still soft, sweet even, not the lust-filled kisses I had been so accustomed to before him and yet I could feel something less sweet hiding in the movement of his lips against my own. My fingers found themselves tangled in his hair, toying with the ends as I’d wanted to do for days now, weeks even. His hands moved from where they had been cupping my face (though only in his moving them did I notice they’d been there all along) as my back hit the cushioned seat of the sofa. He was hovering over me, his hands playing at the hem of my shirt, brushing bare skin so lightly I shuddered, but he hardly seemed to notice, intent upon the actions of our lips, their synchronisation.
“Oh, Jesus fucking—is nowhere safe?!” John sprang from me at the sound of Jared’s voice and I groaned loudly, beyond annoyed at the interruption. “Don’t give me that shit, Holly. We only let you tag along on the assumption you two would not be boning on the bus.” I sat myself up, rolling my eyes as I flattened my hair.
“I only came along on the assumption you wouldn’t cock block me.” He glared at me playfully at my words, trying to remain stern though with no real issue against John and I’s relationship.
“You,” he pointed at John, “go take a cold fucking shower or something.” I snorted softly as I looked over at John, who was currently adjusting his position so as to hide the ridiculous bulging in his pants. I was kind of proud, if a little concerned, that he got so riled up so quickly. “And no more boning on the sofa.”
“We haven’t ‘boned’ on the sofa, calm yourself,” I scoffed.
“But I bet you’ve desecrated some other public space on this bus,” he countered.
“The only place we’ve ‘desecrated’,” I held my fingers up to show the quotation marks, “is Kennedy’s spare room. Leave us alone.”
“Wait, you mean you--?” I cringed as I realised what he was piecing together. It had been maybe a week, but I think they had expected more of us. I mean, it wasn’t like neither of us hadn’t done this before, with each other even, and we’d been playing around the edges of this relationship for the last two years. Besides, when I told Dave on that first night that John got ‘sexual’ when he was drunk, I fucking meant it. The guys knew that just as well as I did. I also hadn’t had sex in nearly two years, so excuse me if I wasn’t on board with taking this slow. “Well, shit, I’m going to leave.” He turned abruptly, grabbing something off the kitchen counter on his way off the bus. I looked over at John who had a slight red tinge to his cheeks, though I didn’t know if it was from Jared interrupting us or what I’d just told him. It didn’t feel like much to be embarrassed about, but it had been an intense week already. I mean, Christ, I took him to meet my parents before we’d even slept together.
“Well, that was awkward,” I let out, breaking the small silence that had filled the room since Jared had left.
“Yep.” I looked over at him once again, an amused smile pulling at my lips and the pair of us began to laugh. I felt like a teenager again, hiding from my friends in dark rooms and always, always getting caught, generally by Cammy and Bella, who I was almost positive used to hunt me down when I disappeared. Marissa learned early that, once I was gone, you didn’t go looking for me. Either way, my earlier nostalgia for getting fucked up and not having anyone to go home to was definitely replaced by having John by my side.
“Note to self: none of that on the bus.”
“I hate to have to agree with you, darlin’, but I think you might be right,” he chuckled. “I mean, we’ll be home in less than a week. Think you can keep it PG until then?”
“PG-13 and we have a deal,” I joked. “No, but we should do this right,” I agreed. “I mean, we’ve all seen what happens when I jump in headfirst.”
“Yeah, shitshow comes to mind,” he laughed. I spluttered a ‘hey!’ as he continued to chuckle. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. I like it when you jump in headfirst.” He pressed another small, soft kiss to my lips and I smiled into it. “But slow and steady wins the race, sweetheart, remember that.”

Notes

I'm feeling motivated. Love me.