Spark (4 page)

Fuck! He did not just say that. No. No. No. No. No.

I gasp, and bury my head in my hands. A flood of emotion washes over me, settling into my bones.

What am I supposed to say to that?
Of course I care for Jon, and I do love him, but clearly not in the same way he feels for me. But then I feel betrayed. He’s been hiding this from me.

I breathe in, and try to calm myself, silently telling my heart to calm the fuck down. My eyes are watering, and a tear threatens to roll down my cheek. I lower my hands, and gaze into his eyes. His face is pasty and pale, as if every last drop of colour has been drained from it.

All this time. Has he been secretly checking me out? Imagining
doing
things to me?

“How long have you felt this way?” I whisper, trying to prepare myself for what he says next.

Jon runs his hand through his hair, scratching at the back of his scalp. “I’ve always had a thing for you.”

Always?
Fuck! I must have been blind not to see it
.

“Spending so much time together, I guess it’s finally caught up with me. It’s stronger than I’d thought and I just can’t keep these feelings to myself anymore. It’s too … difficult,” he says, almost choking on his last word.

I swing my legs off the couch, untangling the blanket. I slump over, supporting my head in my hands.

“I just don’t get it. We’re friends. How can you feel like this?” The tone in my voice is gruff, unshed tears choking me. I take in shallow breaths, and turn to him, the light from the TV bouncing off his tortured face.

“I’ve tried to ignore it … believe me, I’ve tried, but the way I feel about you … it consumes me. When I’m not with you, I’m thinking about you. Like, all the time. What you do to me…” He lets out a loud sigh. “There’s no one like you Eevie. No one I know.”

His words render me speechless, rivalling some of the many declarations of love I’ve read about. But I never expected one from him. Not in a million years.

“I love spending time with you. You’re smart, funny, easy-going and … you’re beautiful.”

He thinks I’m beautiful? Heat returns to my face at the thought. But what does all this mean for our friendship? I have to be careful.

“What now … I mean …” I sigh. “How does this affect us?” I motion my hand between our two bodies.

“I guess that depends,” Jon says warily, “on what you want. Do you think you could have feelings for me?”

My heart kicks in my chest, perhaps in protest, and I search my brain for an answer. Imaginary crickets chirp inside my skull. I’ve got nothing. Of all my sexy daydreams, I never had one of Jon. That’s gotta say something.

“I don’t know,” I whisper. My head falls back, and I stare at the ceiling. Jon gently puts a hand between my shoulder blades. “I’m just surprised,” I say, not able to look him in the eye.

“I know,” Jon says, his tone as warm and supportive as it’s always been. “I thought sending the flowers might have tipped you off. I wanted you to at least think about it before I said something.”

I shrug. I’ve
never
had any romantic thoughts about the two of us, but if I tell him that, I know it will hurt him. So I keep it to myself. I value our friendship too much.

“You’re my best friend,” I whisper.

“I know,” Jon says, his voice strained, “and this is why what I have to say next is so hard.”

“What?” I turn towards him, my mouth forming a hard line. What other bomb can he drop on me?

“My feelings for you are so strong, that if I can’t be with you … I just can’t do
this
anymore.”

“You mean our friendship?” I yell, and tears start to fall. A multitude of emotions bubble inside of me, building like I’m a volcano about to erupt.

He nods. “I know I won’t be able to carry on being just friends. I want more … I can’t live a lie.”

The tightness in my chest leaves me struggling to breathe. The walls seem to close in on me. I need air. I need to get out of here.
Now
.

I quickly slip on my shoes whilst Jon sits frozen, watching me. I hurry into the kitchen, not daring to turn back. I don’t want to cry in front of him. I know he’s seen it before, but this time he can’t. This time, I’m crying because of him, and I never thought he was capable of that.

“Wait … where are you going?” Jon calls after me.

I swipe my bag and scarf off the bench top, and rush to the front door. He’s already waiting there with his back against it.

“Don’t leave like this, Eevie.
Please.
You know I hate seeing you upset.”

My eyes shift frantically as I stare into the eyes of my
once
best friend—who I could very well lose forever. Hot tears stream down my face, my chest expanding which each painful breath. I’ve been through too much, been strong in so many ways, but I’ve just taken a blow I didn’t see coming. I didn’t see that my best friend ‘thinks’ he’s in love with me. That I could lose him.

There’s nowhere to go as we face off in the small entry to his apartment. I lean on the wall behind me, and cover my eyes as the tears flow.

“I don’t wanna lose you,” my voice croaks in between sobs.

He moves forward, and wraps his arms around my shoulders, my head and arms supported by his chest. He holds me tight as I cry, breathing in his crisp aftershave. I never noticed he smelt so good.
There’s probably a lot of things about him I’ve missed
.

“Please don’t cry,” he begs. He tilts my head up, and brushes my hair from my face. His nervous eyes search mine.

I need to process this, and I know there’ll be more tears … but not here. I need to be alone.

I have no idea how long we stand like this, our eyes locked, but my tears subside. My face is wet with sorrow, and then … his lips are on mine.

He holds me close, one hand to my lower back, the other behind my head, and he kisses me with such urgency and passion. The remnants of chocolate tease my tastebuds as his tongue glides against mine. I’m immobilized, not just from his embrace, but from all of this. It’s been so long since anyone’s held me, kissed me in this way. I thought my imagination was good, but it seriously needs work. Lost in the kiss, I realise how wrong this is. I’m kissing my best friend.

I pull away, and with hands to his chest I push him back. The breathy sounds of us panting echoes in the small space.
What in the hell was that?
His facial expression doesn’t give anything away. I think he’s waiting for me to react.

“Stay … please,” he says.

I shake my head from. “No. I’m sorry … I can’t.”

He reaches out, and smooths a tear from my cheek with his thumb. It’s a simple gesture he’s done before, but this time his touch almost burns.

“But will you be alright to drive?” he asks, his brows bunching together.

“Yes.” I say yes, but I really mean no.

“Can you send me a text when you get home?”

I nod.

He opens the door. “Will you be okay?” he asks in a quiet voice.

Okay? Right now, I’m a universe from it.

“I need time to process this … all of this,” I say, thinking more about
that
kiss. A cloud of confusion follows me as I walk out the door. I take a few steps, and turn. “I’ll see you later.”

“Bye,” he says, with the tiniest hint of a smile.

Laden with the worry of what this all means, my head falls forward, not taking my eyes off my shoes until I see the door of my car.

And I’d thought things were looking up.

****

Drained of tears, and without an ounce of energy left in me, I arrive home. I probably shouldn’t have driven, but how could I stay any longer? What would have happened if I had?

I turn on the kitchen light, and find Crystal has written on my note from earlier:

Sounds great. Rob’s busy tomorrow so I don’t have any plans.

Yeah, right. Breakfast. There’s definitely some shit to talk about now. And she’d better not say
I told you so
. Otherwise, her pretty existence may be over all too soon.

Dragging my arse into the bathroom, I grimace at my reflection: Messy hair, swollen eyes, and a red nose, which has been running like I’ve had a bad case of hay fever since I left Jon’s. I splash cold water on my face, and collapse into bed.

Assuming the foetal position, I snuggle deep amongst my pillows and doona. I toss and turn as my thoughts bombard me. It comes down to two options—either I become his girlfriend, or lose him forever. It’s an ultimatum, and it’s so, so unfair.
How did I get here?

I take my phone, and begrudgingly send Jon the text I’d promised him.

Home safe.

He replies almost immediately. Was he sitting on the damn phone? It’s been more than an hour since I left his place.

Good, hope you are okay?

Okay? OKAY? No. I am
not
fucking okay, Jon. You’ve given me an ultimatum, I’ve turned into a snivelling cry baby, and I’m in emotional limbo. Happy?

I don’t reply to his text. I wouldn’t want to say something and regret it later. Not wanting to think about him any more tonight, I switch off my phone.

The book on my bedside table doesn’t have its usual appeal. I’d be reading about kissing Brayden, but in my head it would be Jon all over again. Unfortunately, my emotions get the better of me, and with an ache in my chest and thoughts of losing my best friend, I cry myself to sleep.

CHAPTER THREE

I wake to a soft knock on my bedroom door. “Are you awake?” Crystal asks.

“Yeah, come in,” I grumble, and clear my throat. I squint at my alarm clock. Eight-thirty. I normally don’t sleep this late, with the exception of yesterday morning at Cassie’s. My head is foggy with a dull ache, my limbs heavy. I obviously needed the rest.

The door slowly creaks open. Crystal sits on the end of my bed, already showered and dressed though her hair still hangs in thick wet ropes.

“Where do you wanna go for breakfast?” she says through a soft smile, but it slowly drops as she studies me closer. I must look a treat. Hopefully she’ll put it down to the fact that I’ve just woken up. I’m not ready to talk yet.

“I’m not fussed,” I say. I can’t think straight just yet. My brain is bruised.

“Are you okay?” Crystal asks.
Okay? There’s that word again …

“Yeah, fine. I just need coffee,” I reply with a smile, hoping she doesn’t see how fake it is.

“Alright, I’ll go and dry my hair while you have a shower. How about we walk up to Green Square, and go to a café we haven’t been to before?”

“Sounds great.”

Crystal hurries off to her room. I drag my arse out of bed, and slowly palm my way along the wall to the bathroom.

****

We sit down at small table in the sun at some trendy café. A tall, blond waitress, dressed entirely in black, comes to our table to take our order.

“I’ll have a large flat white and eggs benedict, please,” I say, handing the waitress the menu.

“Mmm, that sounds good,” Crystal says nodding her head. “I’ll have the same.”

“You’ve got good taste.”

“Why, because I ordered the same?”

“Of course,” I reply. “Great taste in flatmates too.” I raise an eyebrow.

“Is that so? I’ll let you know. I think it’s too early to tell,” she says, and I try to mirror her chuckle.

I sense this is the beginning of a great friendship. Even though she’s only a year older than me, Crystal has really got her shit together. She’s travelled, knows what she wants in life, and, well, she’s just lived. I’ve got some catching up to do, but with a friend like her, it drives me to do just that.
Live.

Our coffees arrive, and we both eagerly take our first sip. “How was last night?” Crystal asks casually.

She didn’t waste any time. My heart sinks in my chest, heavier with each second as it drains any colour I might have had in my face.

“I
knew
something was up with you,” she says and purses her lips. “What is it?”

I take in a deep breath, and exhale loudly.
Keep it together, Eevie
. Surely I cried enough last night, and now it’s out of my system. I don’t need tears in my eggs.

I’d normally talk to Cassie about this stuff, but I need to speak to someone before I start going mad.

“Well … Jon confessed his undying love for me,” I say, trying to make light of it, but fail miserably.
Because it is the truth.

Crystal coughs and splutters, some of her coffee spraying on the table. A few people at neighbouring tables stare at us, but Crystal doesn’t acknowledge them.

I hand her my napkin, and she wipes over the table. “What! What did he say?” Crystal says, a little too loudly for my liking. I don’t know why she’s surprised. She had her suspicions.

I tell her about the footsies on the couch, the choice of movie, and his comments about the mousse:
I wouldn’t make it for just anyone.
“All the signs were there …” I say, shaking my head.

“Maybe he was trying to tell you something with the movie. You know, something he didn’t know how to say himself,” Crystal says, her eyes wide, eager for more details.

“Maybe. Anyway, he asked me if I got the flowers, and I tried to brush it off, but then the conversation got heavy.” I take a sip of my coffee, which has quickly turned cold.

“Come on … out with it,” Crystal says impatiently.

“Two eggs benedict,” the waitress interrupts. We move our coffee cups aside. Crystal’s impatience grows with every second she has to wait for the juicy details. “Cracked pepper?” the waitress asks with a smile.

“Yes please,” I reply. I smile at Crystal as the waitress takes her time to grind pepper onto my eggs. It’s probably more pepper than I would usually like, but I do it to mess with Crystal’s head.

“Not for me.” Crystal gives the waitress a stern look, dismissing her. The waitress moves on to the next table, and I start to eat.

“Well?” Crystal splutters. I motion towards my lips, slowly finishing my mouthful. Seeing her this desperate for information nearly brings a smile to my face. Crystal shakes her head, suspecting that I’m enjoying this. But I’m not. Far from it. My serious face resurfaces.