Just Another Reason I Could Never Forget You

The next 24 hours became a blur.
Alex and I made our way to his bus and I immediately threw myself on the couch screaming ‘sleepover!’ and stealing Jack’s beer. I was, of course, met with glares for both my pitch and my light fingers, but Alex made up for me by passing Jack a new one and telling us all he’d be right back. I held myself together well in his absence, glossing over any questions about John by focusing the conversation back on the cartoon racing game they had set up (I’d say it was Mario Kart, but I didn’t see any plumbers or dinosaurs) and the boys soon took the hint. I knew they knew something was really up when I finished my beer and moved straight on to Jack’s and he didn’t utter a single word about it, and Alex confirmed their suspicions a couple of minutes later when he walked in with my bag in his hand. I was grateful for the help, as the morning was going to be awkward enough without having to somehow make my way back to the bus for my shit while avoiding everyone I shared said bus with, however I could feel all eyes drift from him to me while I stared straight at the screen and refused to meet anyone’s eye.
I slept quite soundly on their couch that night, or as soundly as I could given that the moment I leaned on Jack’s shoulder and shut my eyes, they began to whisper about me and didn’t stop until they laid me down, covered me with a blanket and left to go to sleep themselves. Alex filled them all in enough, without laying all the details bare, keeping between the two of us the way I’d admitted to never having stopped loving him, as well as that being the reason John and I had broken up in the first place. When asked why all Alex had said was ‘they were arguing a lot, I guess’.
I couldn’t be more grateful.
Unfortunately, old habits die hard and I escaped from the bus with my belongings as soon as we pulled into the venue, long before any of the boys awoke. My stomach churned as sped past the bus my friends were on, where they had probably spent the night either comforting John or calling me all the names under the sun.
Sorry I can’t stay on – I’m going to clear my head. I’ll see you all when we’re all back home
I fired off the message to all the boys from Arizona, with one obvious exclusion. It had occurred to me when I sat down in the taxi that it was unbelievably shitty of me to leave them all in the lurch, but at least I could mitigate some of my shittiness by actually telling them I was going before it hit show time and they realised their employee had fled the state.
Hey, sorry I’m not there. Thank you for last night. I know I’m an asshole, but I figured it was easier this way. I’ll see you around.
I rationalised that Alex would understand the most why I had disappeared, and he was the one most deserving of my thanks. He did his best by me, while not wanting to be around me, and I knew how hard that was. It had been building up inside me since the night before, but I kind of felt like my heart had been broken twice, once by John and then again by Alex. I didn’t know if I’d been hoping for him to confess his love once more now that I was single and admitting I still had some feelings, despite knowing in my rational brain that I absolutely would not do anything like hooking up with Alex so soon after breaking up with John. I was a shitty person, but I wasn’t that shitty (unless being petty, but I digress).
I had made it through the next four hours of planes and taxis while holding myself together. Hell, I had made it the last 24 hours since John and I's fight holding myself together, but as I knocked on my parent’s door all I wanted to do was curl up like a five-year-old on my dad’s lap on the sofa and cry.
“Mom,” I whimpered as I saw her familiar face in the doorway, flinging my arms around her almost immediately and letting it all out. I felt her stiffen as I did so, a reminder that I never did this, especially with her, before she wrapped her arms around me in return and hushed me soothingly, leading me inside the house. I put my bag down by the door as I let go of her, allowing her to continue leading me into the kitchen.
“What happened?” she asked softly as I wiped my tears, sitting down by the counter. I snorted, unamused and a little cynically.
“What always happens, mom? When I get my life together and I think I’m happy, what always happens? I let him get into my head and under my skin and this is what I always get for my troubles.”
“I don’t understand,” she frowned. “Did John do something, or—?”
“Alex. It’s always Alex. He acts the best friend, he tells me he loves me and then he rips it all out from under me.” I could hear myself covering my sadness with anger I didn’t even feel, building my defences right back up where they’d fallen. I hated it.
“So, where’s John?” She was still frowning, not any less in the dark now than before I started ranting, not sure why Alex loving me or not was a big deal when I had John, not sure why I was so fucking worked up that I came here and cried on her porch. I could feel myself wanting to cry again, the explanation stuck in my throat, but I pushed on through.
“He broke up with me,” I replied, finally. “Apparently, I’m still in love with Alex and apparently once Alex knows I’m not over him, he loses interest.” My shoulders slumped as I said it and I didn’t know whether I was more upset over John or Alex, especially given my current ranting. I leaned my arms on the counter, putting my head in my hands and letting my elbows slide away from me.
My arms hit something as I leaned too far forward and I sat back up straight, frowning at the two still warm cups of coffee on the counter in front of me. They weren’t fresh, they had obviously been left out, so why were there two?
“Mom, who else is here?” I watched her frown disappear, replaced with an uncomfortable look that told me she didn’t want to tell me. I looked around the kitchen, seeing Isobel stood sheepishly in the doorway to my right.
“I was in the bathroom when you came,” she told me. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but my bag is on the back of your chair and—”
“It’s fine, Is,” I grumbled, looking away. “I barged in here, interrupted the two of you and started talking shit about your son.”
“You didn’t say anything I don’t expect,” she replied. I could picture the look of sympathy she had on her face, but I didn’t want to see it.
“Mom, do you, uh, you don’t mind if I stay here for a little while, do you?” I asked awkwardly, trying not to carry on the conversation with Isobel and finding a way out of here.
“Of course not, you know you’re always welcome.”
“On that note, I think I’ll go put my things away,” I replied, smiling (almost wincing, really) at the both of them, before picking up my bag and leaving to hide in my room.

Notes

I can't believe it's been two years since I updated this.
I've decided I have to finish. I don't expect anyone to still be here, but, if you are, hello again.