“I’m out…”
Curling my fingers back around the strap of my bag, I remain silent as I slide past him and start to walk away. It doesn’t take long for my steps to turn into more of a march to make my escape as quick as possible. I’m about to break out into a run when the sound of my phone alerting me to another message forces me to stop in my tracks and close my eyes. I know I shouldn’t look at it, knowing full well who it’s from, but the thought of getting angry at Matt suddenly seems like the lesser of two evils compared to thinking about Ethan Walker behind me.
Reading the message and seeing yet another declaration of adoration from Matt I know I can’t cash in, my whole body starts to shake as the tears threaten to fall. Ethan’s voice calls out to me quietly and, despite knowing looking at him one last time will probably hurt, I can’t stop from peering over my shoulder and taking him in.
I don’t know whether it’s the way his jaw is locked tight, the way his eyes are creased together in concentration, or even the way the muscles in his forearms are tensed as his hands cling tightly to his waist, but another penny seems to fall into place as I finally realise who the hell he is and where I’ve seen him before.
He was the guy I used to look forward to seeing in the park, all those years ago. He was the man who used to be able to brighten my day in just one small second. He was my stupid recovery crush. How did I not see it until now?
Swallowing down the emotion that’s lodged itself in my throat and quickly shoving my phone back in my bag, I give him a sad smile and sigh. “I can’t do this, Ethan. I’m sorry. I need to go. It was nice to finally meet you, to talk to you. Take care of yourself.”
“Moffy, please – please wait!”
I take off running as quickly as I can, grateful for my Converse as my feet pound the pavement in long strides. I don’t allow myself to look back or even consider the possibility that he may have followed me, I’m so lost in the tornado of thoughts that are swirling through my mind. It seems I have so many questions in my life these days, and nowhere near enough answers.
Making all the turns in the roads that I need to, my body begins to overheat and my breathing becomes more than laboured. Finally making it to our house, I bounce down the path as quickly as I can and shakily take the key out of my pocket. Shoving it in the door seems almost impossible. My fingers refuse to work as my body trembles. Somehow managing to turn the lock and stumble my way into the house, I’m about to press the door shut when a foot becomes lodged in the doorway, blocking me from closing it completely.
Raking my eyes the whole way up his body, all I can hear is my heart hammering in my chest as I finally make eye contact with Ethan, again. His mouth is hung open slightly as he tries to catch his breath, and his chest is heaving as he presses his hand against the doorway and shakes his head. I have no idea what the look on his face means, but there’s something there - something I can’t quite place and it makes me itch to reach out and touch him.
“Ethan, please. Let it go. Consider this a date from hell and walk away.”
“Listen,” he breathes out heavily. “I get that I made an absolute cock up of this date. Normally, I’d turn around and walk away, but, well, you fucking intrigue me, alright?” He pauses again, his head falling to one side as he flashes a small, tired smile and tries to catch his breath. “Give me a chance to do this the right way. I’ll have my car back soon. I’ll take you somewhere nice and we can talk without all the awkwardness of being set-up and feeling like we have to make it work. Give me a chance to get to know you, please?”
I drop my head to avoid the intense look in his eyes, grateful for the hair that falls down around my face and shields me from him for just a few moments while I try to keep a clear head. I feel drawn to him in a way that scares me to death. Thoughts of Jack and Matt using me as their little pity plaything just won’t leave me alone. All I see when I look at Ethan is that he has the potential to do what they did but on a much larger scale. There’s lust and then there’s lust. I know that if I give him even another hour of my time, I’m gone for life. Throw into the mix the whole weirdness of him sleeping with my best friend and it just seems like heartache is a mere second date away.
“Ethan, I’m not… I’m not emotionally ready.” I raise my chin to take him in just one last time and drag in another shaky breath. “This isn’t anything to do with you. You haven’t lost this game.”
“Game?” His frown is deep as though he doesn’t understand what the hell I’m talking about.
“I’ll call you, okay?” I lie. “Maybe we can be friends.”
Without even taking time to respond to anything I’ve said, he digs into his trouser pocket and pulls out his card holder. My brows crease together as I watch him fiddle around inside it. I’m sure my eyes are deceiving me when I see his hands tremble in the same way as mine. Eventually sliding his number out, he hands it to me and avoids looking up at all costs.
“I’d really, really like it if you did.” He smiles flatly, finally allowing himself to take one last look at me the way I did with him. “Bye, Moffy.”
My whisper probably doesn’t reach him as he makes his way back to the garden gate before disappearing out of my line of sight for good.
“Goodbye, Ethan.”
Forty
Our final moment
I’ve been sat on the steps that lead down into the back garden of Casa since I closed the door on him. My hands are clasped together, resting on my thighs. I haven’t moved much, except for shifting the odd strand of hair away from my face that the light, spring breeze has blown out of place.
I don't know what it is I'm looking for out here, I just know that if I stay indoors, the walls will start to feel as though they are closing in and the panic will take over. In a mere matter of countable minutes, my life seems to have changed, yet again, and I can't seem to find the will to want to stop it.
It takes me a few seconds to realise Paris has sunk down beside me and is mirroring my exact pose. It must be pretty obvious from my body language how the date went, yet she doesn't speak. She knows I will when I'm ready.
Luckily for her, it seems I'm ready to talk much sooner than either of us expect.
“You should have told me you slept with him,” I whisper, narrowing my eyes against the sun and keeping my face forward.
“Would you have gone on the date if I had?” she asks, her gaze concentrated on the same spot as mine.
“Probably not.”
“Exactly.”
“Still…”
“Does it matter?” she mumbles weakly. “It was a onetime thing with no emotion attached. He's a good guy. You should know that.”
Sighing heavily, I lean even further forward and drop my head into my lap. “I think I know.”
Her shoulder nudges mine gently. “So why the sad face?”
“I'm just tired, Goose,” I answer matter of factly before raising my head to look back out at the garden. “I'm tired of chasing a dream I'm not even sure I know I want. I'm tired of being a mess. I'm tired of feeling like I don't want the way of this world anymore. It’s too hard.”
“What are you scared of, Mav? Getting hurt again?”
I close my eyes briefly before turning to face her and fluttering them back open. “Isn't everyone?”
“Maybe, but you're never going to have anything amazing in your life if you always cling onto the worry of it falling apart. We have no control over the actions of others. All we can do is take the risks we need to take and hope for the best.”
My nostrils flare as I silently assess her face. I have no idea when she became the smart and sensible one, but by some twisted turn of events, that seems to be exactly what is happening with the two of us. I don't want to be weak for her anymore. More importantly, I don't want to be weak for myself.
“When did you get so wise?”
Paris rolls her eyes and laughs softly. “I'm my father's daughter, remember? I'm like an owl.”
A smile tugs at my
lips at the vivid memory of us both as children and the analogies her father used to throw at us. “How could I forget?” I respond with a grin.
A cloud shifts above, sending another bright burst of sunshine down onto our faces. Scrunching one eye closed tightly, she raises a hand to shadow her face and looks back at me. “Did you like him?”
“Ethan?” I ask, dropping my gaze and picking at an invisible thread on my jeans. “What's not to like? He's pretty amazing, in an arrogant, I’m ridiculously sexy and you want me to be an arsehole but I’m not, I’m a good guy, kind of way. You know?”
“I know.”
“That’s probably why you chose him for me, I guess.”
“But none of that matters if you're going to let fear stop you from seeing him again, does it?”
“I'm not sure,” I answer honestly in a rushed breath. “This one felt different, Paris. He felt… I can't even describe it.”
“Special?”
“No. I mean, yes, but no. He felt…” My chin rises to the sun, enjoying the wave of heat that washes over my face while I try desperately to think of a way to describe what was going on whenever I looked at him. “He felt like he was always meant to happen. He felt right. I'm just not sure I can trust my own judgement at the moment. I’m not sure I can explain.”
“If he felt right then I'm not going to let you waste another single second on doubt, Mav. Where has being safe got you all your life – sat on the back doorstep with me at thirty one years of age, mulling over shit as though we're doomed to be cat ladies.” She leans closer, resting her head on my shoulder as we both watch one of Betty's cats climb the fence that borders our garden. “It's time to switch things up.”
“Make our own rules,” I suggest in a whisper as the wind picks up and wraps itself around us.
“Hell yes.”
“And our own world.”
“I'll follow you wherever you go.”
“One with no pasts, just new beginnings, from this moment right here. No looking back.” I smile lazily, getting lost in the daydream that we're both creating for ourselves.
“No regrets, just an endless amount of surprises waiting for us to discover. It’s time to find out happy place.”
“Our very own Wonderland,” I say as though it's the most poetic thing to ever leave my lips. My skin prickles with excitement at the thought.
Paris lifts her head as though what I've just said has had the exact same effect on her. Her eyes light up under the midday rays of light and her hair blows around her shoulders, framing her face. The smile playing on her lips is genuine and full of excitement. “Wonderland. I like it.”
“Me, too.” I grin back at her. “Let's make it happen.”
“My first rule as co-queen is forcing you to not give up on Ethan. You know that, right?”
“We'll see.”
Wrapping an arm around her, I pull her back into an embrace and squeeze her shoulder tight. Resting our heads against each other and looking back out into the daylight, I can't deny the feelings of nervous anticipation and excitement that run through me. I don't want to give too much away yet or put too much pressure on what fantasies of the future I'm imagining as we stare out into nothing, but one thing I know for sure is this...
My story is only just beginning.
The end is unknown.
The cast could change along the way.
But the first chapter of my new world will no doubt involve the man I can't seem to get out of my head. I'm going to make this right somehow, for all of us - for Paris, for me… and maybe for Ethan Walker.
Time to start living the life I deserve once and for all. It's time to take charge and find the happiness I know is out there waiting for me.
It's time to go to Wonderland.
To be continued...
Author’s Playlist
For me, music is essential when writing.
Here are some of the more prominent tracks that got me to the end.
I hope you enjoy some of these and are able to imagine Izzy on her journey whilst listening.
Your song – Ellie Goulding
No more losing the war – Half Moon Run
Oats in the water – Ben Howard
Why don’t you save me – Ken Wakan
Made of stone – Matt Corby
Shiver – Lucy Rose
Burn it down – AWOLNATION
Retrograde – James Blake
Wherever you will go – Charlene Soraia
Colorblind – Counting Crows
I can’t pretend – Tom O’Dell
Wicked Game – Emika
Demons – Jasmine Thompson
The one that got away – Civil Wars
Resolve – Foo Fighters
We don’t eat – James Vincent McMorrow
Here comes the sun – Yuna
People help the people – Birdy
Kill of the night – Gin Wigmore
Fire and rain – Birdy
Everybody hurts – Jasmine Thompson
When you break – Bears Den
Just breathe – Pearl Jam
Pumpin’ blood – NoNoNo
Statues – Foo Fighters
Seconds – Ghost Loft
Sex and candy – Maroon 5
A thousand years – Jasmine Thompson
High hopes – Kodaline
More About The Author
Victoria L James is a teenage girl stuck in a thirty-something year-old's body. Living somewhere 'oop north' in England, she has had a strong passion for words and stories going as far back as she can remember, which she credits to her grandmother and her love of reading anything that was on sale and cheap from the local market stall. Never once did she think she would release a novel, though. At best, she thought her love of language and her ability to create stories in her mind would provide her with a 'get out of jail free' card whenever she messed up and her parents were mad at her during her teenage years... and when even that didn't work out, she thought she was pretty much done for.
When an opportunity presented itself for her to take a back seat from paid working life for a few years, she knew straight away that she had to try and write about a few of these worlds she'd come up with along the way, and quieten all the voices in her head without racking up a heavy psychiatry bill for the pleasure.
Wearing her heart on her sleeve and trying to lighten her friends’ and family’s lives with naff, and more often than not, badly-timed, nineties jokes, she has yet to learn the art of knowing when to shut up. Which is another reason writing became a passion of hers. With pen and paper, there are no limits.
A firm believer in never quitting, with a ridiculous obsession for all things Rocky, she hopes that one day she writes a story that will inspire at least one person out there to keep on going if they're struggling. Other than that, she's just a regular old converse wearing, corona sipping, English version of Chandler Bing, who loves and adores her family more than life itself. Oh, and she also has two cats. Every writer has to mention their cats, right?
Izzy Moffit's Road to Wonderland (Road to Wonderland Series Book 1) Page 29
