Broken Love

by Lucy Harvey

  The weather was beautiful making a welcomed change to our typical British forecasts. It would not be long before Peyton, Harley and I were to start our new jobs – of course any excuse to shop. We spent the day parading through our local town Mal in search for professional yet comfortable attire making us look the part for our new roles.

  It was drawing closer to two in the afternoon so we decided to take our bags back to the car and stop for some lunch in a local patisserie before continuing our feminine quest. I had lost count of the amount of bags I had begun hoarding all over the shopping center and was met with a sense of relief when I finally shut them away in my boot. Later would be a better time to regret how much I had spent on shoes and skirts that were most likely too risky to wear in the work place.

  “I am so hungry, this stupid pre-wedding diet is starting to take its toll.” Harley confessed as we took our places in the queue at Antonia.

  Antonia was one of my favorite places to grab lunch whether dining in or taking away. I had spent three quarters of my time in here trying out different recipes for the chef who had become like a stand in father role to me. Cake was my most desirable weakness – no matter what kind just the mention of the word and my mouth would be salivating.

  The diner sat on the edge of lonely street and even though it had a disadvantage due to footfall it was always packed. The retro American design was welcoming and friendly. I looked over at the window booth and pictured myself there spending endless evenings working on my degree desperate to meet deadlines, all the while Leo the chef would supply me with all kinds of yummy motivational dishes that did wonders for my concentration but not so much good when it came to my lumps and bumps.

  After placing our orders we each headed over to our usual window booth and made ourselves comfortable on the emerald leather seats before our food arrived. The thought of mature cheddar and haddock Panini followed by a double portion of tiramisu made the choice of gym that evening no longer an option but a definite plan.

  Peyton and Harley were in deep conversation about seductive ideas for Harleys wedding night. Harley turned her nose up at each and every one of Peyton’s ideas claiming she was ‘too classy for such slutty affairs’. She was not fooling us though, after prying Dixon with a scotch too many he was more than willing to reveal Harley’s signature moves in the bedroom. She was probably worse than Peyton and I put together.

  I refrained from joining their conversation and dug out my phone from the bottom of my satin Michael Kores clutch. There were no missed calls and only one message and that was from my dad.

  Dad – You should have never convinced your mother to join FaceBook!! If she tags me in one more ‘unfunny’ vid I am cutting you out of my Will! Ps love you x

  Oh dear.

  Preparing myself for the overload of notifications I logged in to my personal Facebook. Thank the lord it was only my poor dad that had become victim of my mother’s tagging hype. Seeing as I was only sat marking the last piece of my tiramisu with my fork whilst my friends talked I decided to scroll through my newsfeed. As I scrolled past numerous pointless status’s and posted pictures my thumb drew to an abrupt halt.

  ‘Roman court was tagged in this picture with Odette Hayes.’

  My heart immediately plummeted to the pit of my stomach whirling my vastly consumed food into a nauseating wave churning around in my gut. He was with her last night.

  A status confirming he had spent the night with her would have killed me.

  This was something completely different.

  Odette had her head snugged into the crease of my topless Roman.

  But he was not mine was he?

  He was playing with my emotions again leaving me to feel like a glum fool, this was the last time I was going to let him play me like this so publicly. It was not as though he kept me a secret, even Dixon had messaged me thanking me. Was that part of the game? Anything to break down my shield’s so I had nothing left to fight back with.

  What could I even say? I know you told me exactly what would go down with us but now I am not okay with that.

  What did I tell you Lily?

  That voice. As though he waited for an opening in my downfall. Appearing just in time to consume me as I fell.

  Standing up from the table I excused myself and went into the bathroom. The tears began to fall and I had no control over my sobs, locking myself in a cubicle I slid down till my behind hit the surface of the toilet floor. After a long three minutes I gathered the courage to look at my appearance. My mascara had smudged all down my face - there was no denying this one.

  What now?

  After trying to face the black smudges highlighting my cheekbones I shot a quick text to Peyton and Harley ‘Soz something came up will ring ya later!xx’

  I ran all the way to my car by-passing curious onlookers as I barged between crowds of oblivious shoppers living their mundane life’s I would always envy. As soon as I got to the car park I locked myself in the car and sped straight home.

  One.

  Two.

  Three.

  Guarantee if you catch one red light you catch them all. My chest began to tighten as my journey home seemed to grow more prolonged by the second, I just needed to crash and fall into the safety of my nirvana.

  Once I pulled up outside my door I fumbled with the key letting myself in. Damn – I had left the living room light on. My parents were always wary of leaving lights on or plugs on and I know they would probably have heart failure ten times over if they ever caught wind of the amount of times I foolishly forgot to turn things off.

  Ignoring my bags hiding in the boot of my silver Mini I decided that task could wait. Right now I needed to know every little thing about this vile attraction between Roman and the famous Odette.

  There was something unsettling that continued to nig at my insecurities about this girl. Roman told me he could not come with me that weekend because of work but he was with her. The same again last night when he covered their meeting by saying he had business to take care of. Was hanging out with ex’s really associated with his work? Then just as my curiosity peeked I came across that stupid picture. It was like fate wanted me to know the selfishness of this guy.

  The image of her body intertwined with his as she so comfortably rested against his naked state made me so irritated I just needed to punch out slamming my fist against my desk.

  I had found myself in this torturous position one time too many and the thought of going down that route with Roman filled me with anxiety. I was quick to grow jealous and protective of former lovers and would sink to desperate lows in order to mark my territory.

  To think that I would act as such an embarrassment with insignificant others scared me, how would I react with someone that was day by day stealing every fiber of my being?

  My mind flashed back to one significant memory when I thought I was in love with someone in my brother’s band. As a love sick teen I seemed to acquire the ability to fall in love with anyone that showed me the simplest act of kindness. They called it attention seeking or some sort of attachment crap.

  I had just turned seventeen and found my current boyfriend giving it to his sister. Okay not literally his sister but some floosy exchange student living in his house. Peyton enlightened me that the best way to get over someone was by getting under someone else, so that was my strategy in operation move on.

  Hanging out at my brothers band practice was the best way to lose myself. I often found myself in a lost daze once finishing a book and feeling like a chapter of my own life had ended; so having the echo of metal music bleed the unease from my brain was fast becoming a perfect distraction.

  Nate. He was kind and mysterious in a brooding ‘I hate life’ kind of way. When trying to complete my coursework on the second hand sofa in our garage (their practice space) Nate came and sat beside me close enough so that our legs were touching. He leaned over placing his pale decorated arm over my shoulders and inspected my work, as soon as I smelt the enti
cing scent of his aftershave mixed with sweat from practicing I was hooked. His boarder line roguish exposure was just what I needed.

  “Wow, you really have a way with words, have you ever thought about writing?” That was all it needed for me to grow obsessed with him.

  For weeks on end I fantasized about him. Signing my name with his surname instead of my own in different shapes and sizes of childish hearts. I would purposely sit in band practice in loose revealing clothes. I even stooped as desperate to send myself flowers trying to get some sort of jealous reaction out of him.

  “Wow, you must be popular.”

  Maybe it was just an observation but at that time I convinced myself it was the sign I was looking for.

  The following night I waited in his old school pimped out Golf as he finished band practice. Watching through the blacked out tinted windows from the back of his car I watched as he fist pumped my brother Cole. My heartbeat grew to an irrational pace as I wondered what would happen if Cole found me here. The excitement was addictive.

  I was sat impatiently waiting wearing nothing but my own nervous perspiration. My unorganized irrational plan was to wait till we had arrived at his and simply throw myself at him. What straight guy could refuse a naked girl?

  I ducked down as he entered the car. As I waited for the car to start moving I watched as he began to dial someone’s number. A girl’s number. How could the fact he could have had a girlfriend not even enter my mind?

  “Hey beautiful, I’m just gonna go home to shower then I’ll be over.” The fact he spoke so sweetly to her in that dark dreamy voice enticed me even further.

  “Okay baby, see you soon.” Her response was quiet and muffled but I instantly placed it belonging to some alternative emo chick that would suit him better than me, your typical blonde fake tanned Barbie doll with an emotionally decayed core.

  “You best not have anything on when I get there.” His chuckle spiked a jealous rage in me.

  With that he hung up as jealousy quickly turned to panic that roared through me. I had to get out of here, simple, I would wait until we arrived at his and sneak back to mine as though nothing happened. But my clothes. I was adamant my salacious plan would trap him, I forgot I only had a leopard print towel to hide myself.

  The car started moving causing any uncertainty and regret to wash through my veins in time with the motion of the moving car.

  I was just going to have to come clean and beg him to take me home. Oh and not to mention this to my over protective brothers, as far as they were concerned I had stopped selling myself short after my last fiasco.

  “Umm Nate.” I whispered as I gingerly leant forward carefully trying to hide my exposed body.

  “Fuck Lily you scared me to death what are you doing here?” He twirled round and his beard covered mouth formed the shape of a surprised O. Oh those lips. Focus Lily.

  “Lily where are your clothes?”

  “Nate I am so sorry I didn’t realize you had a girlfriend could you just forget this and drop me home?” I pleaded fanning my hands around as the panic consumed me.

  “Wait, Lily, why are you here? You want me don’t you?” His surprised expression faded into an amused smirk and my panic began to settle. He wanted me.

  I stared into Nate’s hazelnut eyes as he scanned my naked flesh, I released my heavy breasts from the clutches of my once protective arm in order to draw him in and tempt him further.

  “Do you want me Lily?” He asked again in a salacious tone.

  But what about his girlfriend?

  I could not brake girl code again.

  There was only so many times Peyton would bale me out of my shit.

  No I was going to go home, ring my therapist and confess every dirty detail of my stupid plan. I could not afford another relapse so soon.

  “No Nate, I don’t want you, I need you.”

  So that plan went out the window.

  Every voice of reason in my mind was drowned out by that one overpowering drone of my illness, it wasn’t an excuse it was a choice that I felt was reasonable though it never was.

  Before I knew it Nate was racing around the car and dragging me out. So focused on the fact I had pursued him despite his girlfriend I failed to realize how wrong his lips felt against mine. I clung to details like that – I was better than his girlfriend. The self-approval was essential. Within the blink of an eye I led him up the garden path – literally. I was pressed against his hall way wall being filled with his excuse for a penis. To say it was the worst sex of my life was a well-deserved label although I didn’t see that at the time.

  It is always easier to look back and see the truth of a situation when you are not emotionally invested. So much can be unclear and blinded by the fabricated connection you think you share with someone.

  There was no fire or even respect in the embrace we shared. Nate didn’t even remove his clothes or care about making it last. He simply undid the zipper of his ball crushing tight jeans and rammed into me. From the lack of foreplay and my panicked state I wasn’t even close to being ready but he didn’t care enough to change that, he just took what he wanted.

  “Mmm I knew the rumors were true.” He whispered whilst spitting into my ear.

  “Everyone said you had a tight greedy pussy. I knew Cole would kill me for going near you but I didn’t need to, you came to me, you really are a naughty girl.” He taunted whilst I was so wrapped up in the excitement of getting what I believed I wanted.

  I felt sick and humiliated but my love blinded mind ignored that and took the only parts of his confession that it needed. He had always wanted me.

  After three short minutes of being pounded into the wall whilst the door latch smacking in my back kept me from my climax, I tried not to wince at the pain until it was finally over.

  Nate had leant me an Iron Maiden t-shirt to wear home and kissed me goodbye. What a gentlemen I thought at the time. That night I was replaying the song that was in his car and dancing around my room at the thought of my misconstrued victory.

  My excitement to see him again consumed me so much that I refused to let my mind wonder to the negative repercussions that were sure to happen.

  For weeks after Nate and I lost ourselves in a lust infused daze of seeded one night stands and sneaking around. I would walk past his girlfriend in the school corridors and smirk at her unknowing. Every day after I would sit in band practice and stare at Nate as he strummed away at his guitar, I would blush thinking he used his fingers so similarly on me.

  “Nate I want you to strum me like you strum your guitar.”

  “You can be my naughty little guitar girl.”

  One day I let myself into Nate’s ready for round 238 but instead of being met by an eager participator I was met with shouting and rejection. Apparently someone had seen us and threatened to tell his girlfriend. At first I thought this was perfect, I could have him to myself but I was not Nate’s choice.

  I ran home and stormed straight into my brother’s bedroom. Cole was on his bed writing lyrics or something of the sort and without thinking I ripped off my top in front of him.

  “Lily what the fuck are you doing? Have you lost your mind?” Cole screamed at me as he tried to wrap a blanket around my naked torso.

  “See these bruises? See these bite marks. Why don’t you ask Nate how I got them?” I declared before running out of his room.

  The aftermath of that blurred in my memory. Apparently I had enabled the ability of blocking out memories I did not want to haunt me. Long story short I broke down – epically broke down. It was my final relapse and downfall before I properly started my medication.

  All I remember was returning to school. The next days were filled with lectures from my over bearing brothers, endless calls from my therapist tracking my every move and Nate’s girlfriend lunging for me in the school canteen. But like always Peyton had my back and Harley had my hand.

  Waltzing through the school corridors in the t-shirt my new obsession had gave
me tucked into a pair of acid wash denim shorts I was practically bouncing along. Acting as though nothing had happened. My high held head was soon hanging low as I heard the things onlookers were whispering about me.

  “Nate said she throw herself at him and he had to send her home, apparently he was embarrassed and she just stalked him for ages after.” One whisper said. Surely he wouldn’t say that? He told me he wanted me. I soon learned boys would admit anything to get their end away.

  “Who would expect anything less I mean look at her, she’s a psychotic freak, her whole group is, always have been.” Another unfair judge commented.

  The worst was that they all labeled me as guitar girl. Mocking the name I thought he used out of love.

  It turns out Nate dismissed the whole thing in order to win his girlfriend back, Peyton broke her nose and Nate broke my heart. Not because I seriously liked him but because all my hard work had crumbled to shit and I was once again a self-obsessed desperate worthless freak.

  Maybe that was why I didn’t trust girls because I used to be the one they would fear.

  I could not go back to that girl, I was finally winning in an endless battle and that was not about to be jeopardized by me getting the wrong end of the stick.

  With Romans powerful reputation I wouldn’t need to sink so low to dig dirt on him and I could not risk trying to trap someone as important in such a scandalous manner. Lucky for me Nate got dumped from the band and moved away from college. But now he was back and his dreams of being famous were short lived.

  I guess there were many positive factors of being involved with someone in the public eye, not much of his life remained a complete mystery (just the aspects that revealed the real him). If I wanted to know what kind of relationship Roman had or maybe even still has with this home wrecker I just needed to turn to my right hand man Google.

  Home wrecker – oops my judgmental thinking cap was already in place and I had barely typed her name.

  ‘Roman Court and Odette’

  Breathing in a deep breathe I mentally prepared myself for what I was about to see. It could not have been worse than the storylines I had faced last time and we had gotten past that.