It’s been just over a two months since I’ve seen Ethan. I’ve lost weight from lack of appetite, which is beginning to freak everyone out. Including my mother who came to visit for two of those lonely weeks. She and Austin came over for Easter to spend time with me, and her best friends. But secretly I think Aunt Anna begged her to check up on me.
My mom watched over me at every meal to make sure I not only ate it, but didn’t barf it up afterward. They were all beginning to think I had developed an eating disorder, even Peter is concerned. I don’t have a disorder, well, maybe a mental one. Depression is not fun. Losing the one I love so desperately, makes me feel like I can’t breathe, or eat.
I don’t even know if he’s okay. God, I hope he is. I was positive that my last and final message telling him it was over would warrant a return call, but none came. And, then I realized the call was never happening, it was over for him the moment he walked out of Peter’s flat. And, it seemed so ridiculously easy for him to walk away from me. All of this makes me rehash every little thing about the time we spent together. Was it just me? No, he was in love too. How the hell could he do this to me?
Part of me feels like I’ve gone through the several stages of grief. First, I felt numb, then I felt anger, and now I fall somewhere in the withdrawal category. I’ve stopped hanging, and I don’t make plans with anyone, not even Peter. My days are spent at school, and only school, because if I don’t study hard I won’t graduate in June with my class.
School will be over in a few weeks, and I’ll be heading home. I think. Part of me wants to stay through summer to see if he comes home, but the sensible side tells me he doesn’t love me anymore-I should move on. I don’t even know why I think he’d still care. I don’t expect him to.
At night when the house is quiet, I quietly cry myself to sleep, wondering what I could have done differently. Wondering if he’s out there? What he’s been doing? Is he with someone new? Should I move on? Could I move on? Until eventually the tears dry up and sleep wins out. It’s the same boring routine every night.
One true friend is all that I made in the time I’ve spent in London. She’s an exchange student like me, but from France. Her name is Agathe. You pronounce it like A GET. We’ve made plans to do the touristy thing together, even against my better judgement. I’ve done it to save face. My Aunt Anna watches my every move, and reports back to my mother as to how I am doing. So, I agree to go to the Eye of London and Buckingham Palace, and so forth, even though I’ve seen them all a thousand times. Agathe is a petite brunette with huge brown eyes that remind me of a deer, and she has the most bubbly personality since Val came along. Which in all honesty, is kind of nice.
We are sitting at the tippy top of the Eye of London, looking down below at everyone on the street. Big Ben is off to the side standing in all it’s grandeur. I’ve always loved that big old clock.
“So, are you going home when school is finished,” Agathe asks.
I lean against the glass, letting my forehead press up against it to look down at the river. “No, I’ve decided to stay a little longer. You?”
“I leave on the last day of school. My parents want me home.” “I’m just kind of waiting to see,” I admit. “Sophie, Ethan is not coming back.” The wheel has moved us along, down to the bottom.
“He might.”
“Let’s forget this touristy shit and hit a pub with a match on. Lots of cute boys will be there.” So, that’s what we do. We take a taxi to just outside Emirates stadium to find a pub packed with guys. Going inside feels like going into a meat market as a few turn to look. Even though most eyes are focused on the match, and the televisions throughout, a few stop to glance in our direction.
Thankfully, I’ve worn a maroon pashmina around my shoulders, otherwise we may not have gotten past the gorilla guarding the door without sporting some sort of Arsenal colors.
“I’ll order us some pints of cider,” Agathe screams out as she leaves me in the corner. My eyes scan the place, before they land on a few boys in the other corner. One of them, a wavy blond holds his pint glass up to me, smiling. I give a small awkward wave.
Agathe comes back minutes later, handing me my drink. Chugging it back is not like me at all, but that’s what I do. As a little cider drips down my chin, I start to laugh. Suddenly, wavy blind guy is right next to me with a napkin in his hand. “You might want to slow down.”
My eyes meet Agathe’s, but she just gives me this you’re on your own, girl look. His hand reaches down, and pats the cider off my face with the napkin, smiling at me the whole time. “I’m Simon.”
“Hi. I’m Sophie.”
“Ah, American, are ya?”
“I am,” I say as my neck strains to the left of him for some sign of Agathe. I spot her seconds later, cozying up to some boy by the entrance. I’m nervous to be alone with him. Not that he’s totally interested in me, but by the look on his face, he may be. I think of Ethan for a brief second, then take a deep breath, and give him my best smile.
“What brings you to London?”
“Exchange program. I leave in a few weeks.” His eyes flick quickly back to his table.
“Listen, my mates, and I were just about to go. But, can I get your number? Maybe we can grab some drinks soon?”
“Sure,” I answer. Rummaging through my purse to find a pen, his hand stops me.
“I can just add it into my mobile.”
“Oh, of course.” So, I tell him my number.
“I’ll call you over the weekend?”
“Sure.” He leans down, whispering in my ear, “You’re awfully cute.” I start to back up, feeling embarrassed, but his words make me feel good. With his face still so close, he leans in to kiss my cheek goodbye, before strolling away.
The kiss is bold of him, but it feels so damn good to be looked at, to be wanted again. I don’t want to, but maybe, just maybe, it’s time to move on, with a little help from Simon.
My head is still in the clouds as I make my way to the bar to order a soda. One pint of cider is enough.
Agathe is still talking to her, “new friend,” so I squeeze my way in between two old men screaming at each other about some play being a foul. “Can I please have a soda?” I yell out to the bartender. He nods to let me know he heard me.
My eyes scour the place, taking it in for a few seconds, before they land on Peter, who obviously spotted me a long time ago. He looks furious. So much so, I think about making a run for it out into the streets, where I could find somewhere to hide.
He says something to some guy next to him, then walks around the bar toward me. “What are you doing, Sophie?” He yells out as I start to head the other way. But, there is nowhere to go, so I turn back.
My back hits the bar, and I can’t move any farther. I decide to play it innocently. “What do you mean?”
“I haven’t seen you in weeks. I was told you were all depressed and didn’t want to see anyone, yet here you are with some random bloke.”
I want to kill him. Who does he think he is, judging me? “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Peter, but Ethan leaving didn’t kill me. I’m having fun my last few weeks, so I’d appreciate it if you’d mind your own business.” Getting out the part about Ethan is a little harder than I thought, but I can’t let Peter see what Ethan has done to me. I can never let Ethan know how much his leaving devastated me, therefore, Peter cannot know. I need to put on my big girl panties, and act like I have no worries.
“Mind my own business? YOU are my business.”
I flip back around to face the bar. I scream out, “Could you make it another cider instead?”
“Oh, so drinking is the answer? Maybe you and Ethan are well suited for each other.” He starts to walk away, but turns on his heels. “Have a fabulous life, Sophie.” Peter storms out of the bar.
Even though I know I shouldn’t follow, I run after him. “Peter! Wait.”
He stops dead in his tracks, turning to face me, he screams, “Why?” “You don’t mean that, so don’t act like you’re walking out of my life completely.” He takes a few steps closer, close enough that I can detect the alcohol on his breath. “Maybe I should be done with the lot of you. You’ve fallen apart, Ethan’s God knows where, and no one seems to worry about little old Pete. I’m tired of taking care of everyone.”
“You still haven’t heard from him?”
He sighs. “Once.”
What? I can’t believe it. How come Peter didn’t tell me? I want to yell at him for not telling me, but I have a more important question to ask.
“When did you talk to him?”
“Two days ago. He’s thinking about coming back. He wanted to ask me some questions.” Peter looks uneasy, he shifts from one foot to the other, and his hands are balled up at his sides.
“What kind of questions,” I ask softly.
Agathe comes flying outside at just the wrong time. “There you are.”
Peter looks over to my friend then back to me. “Nothing important,” he replies, walking away.
I jog to catch up to him. “Peter, wait!” “Could you do me one small favor?” I ask. He looks completely annoyed with me.
“What?” he snaps. “Don’t let him know I’m still here if you talk to him again. It’d be better if he thinks I left already. I can’t see him, I can’t face him. Not now. I don’t think I could handle it.”
“You’re beautiful, but you look like hell, Soph. Go eat some food. You’re too fucking skinny.”
I wince, as he walks away, but I yell out again, “Peter?” He holds his hand up in the air, but doesn’t turn. “I promise,” he yells back to me.
Agathe is disappointed that I’m calling it a day so early, but I can’t think, or pretend to be having fun. The only thing I know is that Ethan is possibly coming home if he’s asking questions.
My head debates back and forth all night, leaving me with no possible way of finding sleep tonight. Do I go home, so I don’t face him? Do I stay, and move on? Do I stay, and take him back if he still wants me? What do I do? Will he look different? Has he healed? Knowing that bumping into him will be a very likely possibility, leaves me feeling scared as hell. What if he has someone new on his arm? It’s been so long.
I need something to pick me up, so I stick my iPod onto it’s docking system, blaring Kelly Clarkson. Every chorus, I scream out louder, “What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger.” I’ve been doing this for a few weeks, once Pete even had to come bang on the door, since Aunt Anna was having a fit that it was too loud. Sending Peter in was really her way to find out if I’d completely lost it.