“Well, why the hell haven’t you? If he’s forgiven you, that’s all you need to know. Go on, ring her. Now!” She’s out the door before the words have finished leaving her mouth.
I can’t ring Neve here: Mum and Dickhead could surface at any time. I go to the only sanctuary I have: the park, thankful to be the only person mad enough to be parked here in the rain.
I sit behind the wheel, phone in hand, trying to believe I have the guts to do this. I walked to the cliff edge before and refused to jump. And regretted it.
I’m being given a second chance here and I’m not going to make the same mistake twice. Maybe it will all end messily, my body broken on the rocks below, but even that would be better than knowing I didn’t have the balls to do it.
To love her.
To give her my heart.
I jumped more than the phone did as it vibrated across the desk. I didn’t need to look at the screen to know who was calling, but Cass’s cheer, followed by her prompt departure, closing the door behind her, was confirmation.
Jake.
Jake.
Knowing my voicemail would kick in if I didn’t get my guts in gear and touch the screen, I picked the phone up. One swipe of a finger and hope spontaneously combusted inside of me, its flames consuming me from the inside out. I was on fire. Alight.
“Hi,” was all I could manage and even that sounded shaky.
“Hi,” was all he could manage and he sounded even shakier. God, that boy. One syllable and I was a molten mess puddled on my bed. I didn’t know what else to say. All I wanted was to crawl into his arms and lie there forever. But I was the one who had suggested the call. Well, Cass was.
“Thanks for ringing.” Despite all of the planning, I just hadn’t got the words to say how much it meant.
“Umm, that’s okay. Thanks for texting.” Cue the mother of all awkward pauses. “You okay?”
“Yes, thanks. You?” Shit. Maybe things weren’t going to return to normal, if the awkwardness was anything to go by. I couldn’t remember one point of the plan, let alone six.
“Yeah. No. Glad to have got your message.” I heard him sigh. “God, this is awful.” In the pause that followed, I wondered if he was sat there, regretting returning the call. “Neve, I can’t do this on the phone. When are you back home next? I’d rather talk face to face. If that’s okay with you, of course.” The tremble of his voice belied his nerves, his worry, his love. That was all I needed: to know he still loved me.
“I’m home now,” I whispered, holding my breath. “When can I see you?” My pride turned to dust. I didn’t care about being hard to get. I wanted—no, needed—to see him. Sod the action plan. I didn’t need six steps. I needed him. Now.
“Anytime. Later? Now? Just tell me when. Please. Please.” My heart disintegrated with the waver in his voice. I wanted to tell him it was okay, that we were okay. Better than okay. Together.
“Where are you?”
“The park. Where are you?” The park! I ran out of my room and straight out the front door, phone still clutched in my hand, vaguely hearing Cass shout after me. Vaguely realising it was raining.
But none of that mattered.
Rounding the corner, I could see Jake’s van parked in our usual spot. I paused, wiped the wet tendrils of hair out of my eyes and allowed myself exactly one second to catch my breath.
“Neve? Neve? Myrtle?” His voice was strange. Tinny. And coming from my hand. I hadn’t even ended the call before running out.
“Yes. I’m here.”
“Thank God for that! Where did you go?” Did he think I was bailing on him?
“Get out of the car, Jake.”
“What?”
“Get out of the god-damn car!” I walked slowly, savouring the exact moment when he saw me. And ran toward me. And picked me up, kissing every inch of my face, rivulets of rain joining us. Binding us.
I couldn’t tell where my tears ended and the smile began. It was all one and the same.
I was home.
“Let’s get in the van. You’re soaked,” he said, arms completely enclosing me. “You’ll catch a cold.” Leading me by the hand, he ran us both over to the van. Holding the passenger door open, he shielded me as I got in but I couldn’t let go of his hand. I couldn’t break the contact. It was still too new, too precious.
“Get in with me,” I said, raising myself so he could sit in the seat before I lowered myself to his lap. I nestled myself under his chin, his arms wrapped around me, feeling his combined warmth and hardness surround me. “Thank you for answering.” It seemed such a trivial statement, considering the joy his reply had brought me.