by Mia Hoddell
Raine snapped her head to glare at Teo. “Why can’t you ever say stuff like that about me?”
I couldn’t help it. With that one line the tension dissipated and I barked a laugh.
“Thanks, Dustin. I’m never going to hear the end of this now.”
I shrugged. “Not my problem.”
Raine clicked her fingers in front of me to pull my attention back to her. “Anyway, back to Tazia. So you’re saying she makes you happy?”
I nodded. “What about this other guy though? If she’s calling me by his name surely there’s something still there.”
“She was tired and he’s been calling her, cut the girl some slack.” Raine rolled her eyes.
“But—”
“I’m not going to tell you what to do, Dustin. It’s not for me to say. Only you know how much you can take. However, if you bail now I can guarantee you’ll be miserable anyway so what’s the harm in staying?”
I hated Raine for talking sense. It had been so much easier when we dealt with her problems. Those I knew how to handle.
“A lot of good you are.”
She shrugged and when I looked to Teo he did the same. “Do whatever you think is best, Dustin. We’ll be here for you no matter what.”
That was my problem. I had no idea what was best for me.
“I think I need time to figure it out,” I murmured.
“Then give yourself time.”
I flashed Raine a strained smile. Even if I had no idea what I was going to do about Tazia, at least I had my best friend back.
Chapter
Twenty-One
Tazia
Though I’d waited for an hour in Dustin’s flat hoping he would come back, he never did. And there was only so long I could hold a conversation with couple of seahorses before I ran out of things to say. Their lack of conversational skills only served to silence me quicker so I’d gone home to wait. For a few weeks.
I’d not seen Dustin since he walked out. I heard his flat door opening and closing every so often, but by the time I’d managed to get to my door I only caught a glimpse of his back or an empty corridor.
Yes, I was sad.
Every other day I baked to keep myself sane. Now my flat overflowed with boxes of cakes, biscuits, and pastries. Even with my sweet tooth and need for comfort food, there were too many for me to devour, and it didn’t help I made double in each batch.
I started leaving half of the batches by Dustin’s door as my way of apologising.
I had no idea if he ate any of them or whether he binned the lot, but I always found the empty tub placed back outside my door at the end of the day. What that meant for us I struggled to comprehend.
Like he’d said when he left, we were in a fucked up state of limbo.
The only positive to come out of the weeks was I’d finally ditched the crutches. My doctor had proclaimed my leg fully functional again and not a moment too soon. Any longer on those godforsaken things and I’d have gone stir-crazy, though some people might have said I already had.
Since I only had one weekend left before I returned to work I decided to spend it finally changing over the furniture. It was a relief to be able to drive again. I’d missed my car and the independence it provided.
I paused in the hallway, staring at Dustin’s door. I had hoped he’d come with me, an option which looked unlikely now. That fact didn’t stop me gawking at the door, praying he’d open it like he could somehow magically know I needed him.
When he didn’t, I sighed and headed out to my beat up old Renault. I missed Dustin. Without his constant presence in my life things became less manageable. The phone calls from Max continued and bothered me more. Every time his name lit up my screen it would bring back memories I’d rather remained buried.
I touched the angel wings around my neck at the thought.
Apart from that, Perry had been on the prowl for information. He wanted to know what was going on between me and Dustin, always fishing. He didn’t seem to get the message that even if I wasn’t hung up on Dustin, I wasn’t interested in him.
Fortunately, the distance between us prevented any more notes coming my way. I still couldn’t figure out who sent it, or why, but I assumed whoever it was had been placated by the distance with Dustin. Elora remained at the top of my list of suspects since it had to be related to Dustin somehow, yet at least it was one thing off my long list of worries.
I turned up the radio in the car, one of the few things that still actually worked on the heap of metal. It did nothing to tune out my thoughts while I drove so I turned it up further and belted out the words, the speakers protesting with regular crackles the whole time.
For the whole drive I either sang—badly—to the songs I knew or hummed away to the ones I didn’t. Quicker than I expected, I pulled into the store’s car park.
Having researched everything online I had an idea of what to look for. If I hadn’t wanted to try out all of the sofas, I would have ordered it all online and saved myself the hassle. However, seeing as I needed to make the trip, I decided to get all of the items to make my flat more homey at the same time. I thought pillows, throw blankets, maybe a lamp or two, and some pictures would make the place more personal and add some colour to the rooms, which were mind-numbingly boring in their current state.
“Tazzie?”
I stiffened at the voice behind me. Placing the cerulean pillow I held into my trolley, I considered how far I’d get down the aisle before he caught up to me.
Maybe if I ran really fast I could escape?
A hand landed on my shoulder.
Damn it.
I removed the irritation from my expression and glanced across at him with insincere surprise. “Max, hi. What are you doing here?”
I spun, deliberately displacing his hand in the process. My fingers gripped the handle of the trolley so tight I thought it would snap under the pressure.
“Mum wanted a new desk, so here I am.”
I nodded. “How is she?”
I couldn’t exactly ignore him, no matter how much I didn’t want to stop and talk.
“Same as always. Constantly buying things and changing her house around. I guess it keeps her occupied, even if I’m the one having to fetch the junk.”
“Well, tell her I said hi. I’d better get back to my own shopping and let you do the same.” I walked away, and Max hurried after me.
“Tazzie, wait. Can’t we at least be civil?”
“I am being civil. I’m choosing to walk away over screaming and kicking you in the balls. If you hadn’t noticed, my leg is all better now, although it would have probably hurt more with my cast.”
I think it was instinct that led him to shield his groin. His gaze dropped to my legs, then travelled up over my body in disbelief. I swear he paled slightly though so maybe I’d been more convincing than I originally thought.
“Can’t we talk about everything? Please.”
I stared at him incredulously. “You want to talk in the middle of a furniture shop?”
“Well, I figured you wouldn’t be open to coffee or meeting up considering you haven’t answered any of my calls since you hung up on me.”
“Aren’t you beginning to sense a reason for that?”
Max exhaled a deep-weighted sigh. “I only want a chance to explain, Tazzie. That’s all. If you still want nothing to do with me after then I’ll respect your wishes.”
For the first time I looked at him properly. His eyes were drawn and dark from a lack of sleep and his body appeared to be struggling to carry his small amount of weight—a look I’d come to know well. His clothes also hung off him more than they used to, not quite fitting properly.
I hunched over my trolley, resting on my forearms. His appearance bothered me. In front of me wasn’t the Max I’d known and loved. I never knew this guy. He seemed empty, whereas I’d managed to pull the scraps of my life back together. Didn’t we both deserve to heal? Grudgingly, I admitted Max needed the chance and it
would only happen if we actually talked.
“Fine, walk and talk. I have shopping to do and not a lot of time.”
He perked up at my reluctant acceptance and heaved a thank you.
“Don’t thank me yet. We’re just talking and I’m not promising anything more.”
“I’ll take what I can get.”
I hummed dubiously and began walking. I knew he’d fall in line beside me, though I pretended to ignore his presence. I studied the cushions in front of me, pulling a handful off the shelves and throwing them into the trolley. My credit card wasn’t going to thank me, but I felt I deserved to treat myself for being so accommodating.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?”
I peered up from the blanket, smoothing my fingers over it. “You were the one who wanted to talk.”
I focused back on the blankets and turned my back on Max.
“Can you at least pretend to be interested in what I have to say? Or not act so cold?” Max asked, circling my wrist with his hand and spinning me around.
I shook him off and rested my hand on my hip. “Gee, I don’t know. Don’t I have the right to act in whatever manner I see fit after what you did? If you want to talk, go ahead. Don’t expect me to ease your conscience though. You made your choice back then, and I’m making mine now.”
“You’re right. I have no right to expect you to act any way towards me.” He pointed to the mauve blanket I held in my left hand over the emerald in my right. “That one.”
Shrugging I replaced the emerald one on the shelf. I preferred the purple one anyway.
“For what it’s worth, I really am sorry, Tazia. I was hurting, and I know that’s no excuse because I wasn’t the only one, yet it’s all I’ve got. I handled everything badly and I feel awful. I should have been there for you like you said, and I should never have blamed you.”
I bit down on my lip and focused on the shelf. The familiar burning rose in my throat and was only a second away from transforming into a full-fledged sob. I took a deep breath. “I can’t do this here, Max. This isn’t the right place for this type of conversation.”
“Then tell me when and where. I’ll be there whenever you want.”
I didn’t want to continue the conversation at all in all honesty. I had been doing fine up until now. However, the ripping of my heart at Max’s words only confirmed I needed closure. No matter how much I pretended and buried myself under baking and Dustin’s problems, I hadn’t dealt with my own. What happened between us should have brought us closer and made us stronger, and instead it had divided us, causing us to turn against one another.
Max used to be my best friend and I didn’t think I’d be able to recover fully while I still harboured ill feelings towards him. Which was why I said, “How about you help me finish up here and then we can head back to my place?”
“Really?” I nodded and in a split second Max had his arms thrown around my neck. “Thank you, Tazzie.”
“Yeah yeah, I’m amazing, I know.” I shrugged out of his grip. “Come on, I need a sofa.”
We’d only taken a step onto the floor dedicated to soft furnishings when something caught my eye. I hurried over to the egg shaped chair immediately.
“Oh my god, I need one of these. It’s perfect for reading.” I dived on the plush red cushions filling the egg that cocooned me in warmth and comfort like a nest. “I don’t think I’d ever use my bed again.”
“When have you ever read a book, Tazzie?” Max wheeled the trolley I’d abandoned out of the way of a few customers.
“I read cook books.”
“In the kitchen.”
Disgruntled, I scowled at him.
“Tazia, I lived with you for four years. Even when we were in university I never saw you crack open a book. In fact, the longest period of time I’ve seen you remain in one place was when we watched back-to-back Hunger Games movies.”
“But it’s so comfy.” I ran my hand over the cushions.
“You will never use it, and have you seen the price tag?” Max flipped the plastic card displaying the price and my eyes bulged out of my head at the triple digits.
“I guess you’re right. Shame though.”
Max held out his hand. “Come on, out you get.”
Without thinking I took it, the gesture so familiar, like his touch. It didn’t send an electric current over my skin like Dustin, instead it felt reassuring…friendly.
“So what are you looking for?”
I scanned the room, searching for any of the sofas I’d seen online. “Something bright, comfy, and pretty.”
Max dropped an arm around my shoulders with a chuckle and touched his head to mine. “Let’s find something then.”
I didn’t have time to shrug out from under his grip as the sales lady approached. “Hi there, can I help you?”
Max beamed at the woman. “We’re looking to buy a sofa.”
“I can help you with that. If you would like I can show you and your partner some of our range and talk you through things. I’m Helen, by the way.”
I stepped out from Max’s arm, my cheeks prickling with heat. “Oh, we’re not together.”
Helen flushed and averted her gaze. She shuffled awkwardly on the spot, eyeing the store like she’d rather be anywhere other than in front of us. “I’m sorry, I…it’s just from the way you were interacting…”
“It’s fine, Helen. And yes, we’d love you to help us. Tazzie is searching for something bright and comfortable.”
Helen nodded. “I know just the sofa. If you follow me I’ll show you.”
Max gestured for me to go ahead and followed behind with the trolley.
* * *
It took me a few hours to search for everything I needed, though with Helen’s help I found the perfect sofa. She’d also thrown in free delivery and removal of my old sofa, which more than made up for her slip.
Climbing out of my car, Max pulled up behind me while I popped the boot lid and hauled out my bags. I realised I may have gone slightly overboard when the bags burst from my grip because I’d wedged too many into my hands.
“Tazzie, let me take some. You don’t have to struggle.”
He collected them without me needing to agree and had double the amount in one hand quicker than I could pick up four. He held out a hand to help me up from where I hunched on the floor and I took it on instinct. I expected him to let go soon after I stood, but he didn’t.
“Thank you.” I gave him an appreciative smile.
We’d fallen back into our easy rapport as we shopped, the tension between us eased without the pressure of needing to talk hanging over our heads. It was a comfort I never realised I felt in Max’s company. He did put me at ease, he made me laugh, and he’d always been a good friend. At least until he wasn’t. Our shopping trip made me realise that was all he ever was.
Everything in our relationship had happened so fast and we’d made decisions for the wrong reasons. The time apart allowed me to look back at our relationship critically, unlike previously.
Our existence together had been what we thought was right. While we loved each other, it hadn’t been full of passion. The few weeks I had with Dustin proved it. Thinking about it now only made me realise we’d been more like friends and that realisation enabled me to relax around him again. I knew in my heart nothing he could say would change my mind and make me take him back. For my own sanity I needed to hear him out and maybe someday we could be friends again. Any type of romance would be impossible to salvage, though.
We were on the last flight of stairs—because I was attempting to get back in shape by not taking the lift—when I tripped. I caught my toe on the step, sending myself flying up the stairs. I dropped my bags and splayed my hand out in front of me. Max still held the other, yet he was too slow to catch me.
I avoided face planting the floor with one arm, but off balance my other foot slipped and sent me sliding down the stairs on my ass.
I bounced over each step, gravit
y taking control and not giving me a chance to stop myself until my feet hit the wall.
“Are you okay?” Max called, already rushing down to me.
I could only laugh. I lay back against the steps until Max stood over me. “It’s a shame I can no longer blame the crutches.”
“Tazzie, you could never blame the crutches.”
I giggled, taking the hand he offered. Heaving me up, he collected the bags that had slid down with me in one hand and kept hold of me with the other. Still laughing, I led him down the hallway until I stopped in front of my flat.
Only once I’d unlocked the door, crossed the threshold, and shut the door behind us did the reality of our situation hit me like a freight train. Suddenly everything seemed morbid and an awkward tension lingered in the air as my laughter dried up.
“Do you want a drink?” I didn’t wait for a response and headed to the kitchen to retrieve two beers from the fridge.
I hurried back into the living room, not giving myself the chance to bottle it and lock myself in the bathroom. If I gave myself even a second to consider the conversation about to take place then that was what would happen.
Holding out the beer, I jerked my head in the direction of the sofa. “Let’s get this over with.”
Max eyed the drink as if I’d presented him with a vial of cyanide. “I thought you meant tea or coffee.”
“Do you really want to have this conversation without it?” I took a swig of my beer. One drink wasn’t going to do anything to damage either of our sobrieties, but I hoped it would give my courage a much needed kick.
Max shrugged, accepted the beer, and followed me over to the sofa. I couldn’t wait to get rid of the rock hard lump of foam. I shifted to get comfortable, although my nerves may have had something to do with that.
“Is there really no chance for us, Tazzie? I meant what I said on the phone and I’d like to give this another shot if you can forgive me.”
Okay, we were jumping straight into things. I had been hoping for a little adjustment time, which clearly wasn’t going to happen.
