Nudge 17 The Lucy Hayward of It All #2
‘How could you not know?’ he asks, unperturbed by my shock. ‘You guys went to the same uni and we were all over each other’s feeds.’
I rack my brain for an instance where I’ve heard about the two of them being together.
I saw them act close and heard that they went to the same parties, but Aiden was a flirty guy and I never thought anything of it.
Honestly, the second Lucy stopped going to school with me, I tried to block all mentions of her out of my life.
I certainly didn’t know that they were in a full-blown relationship.
‘I never saw it on Facebook.’
‘Well, that’s ’cos no one our age uses Facebook, Maddy,’ he says dryly as he takes another sip of his drink. ‘But we were insufferable just about everywhere else. I had to go through and archive over a decade’s-worth of posts . . .’ He stops as he takes in my face. ‘Are you all right?’
I can’t even try to hide it this time; I nearly choke on my drink in shock. My cheeks puff out as I attempt to trap the liquid in my mouth.
‘A decade?’ I splutter, coughing on some stray droplets.
‘We dated from Year Nine through college, then off and on again through uni. Long distance is a bitch.’ He sighs, nursing his drink carefully. ‘I visited her at uni one singular time and it didn’t exactly go well.’
I flash back to May Madness, the chaos of it.
A week of debauchery and mind-numbing EDM and non-stop parties.
If you didn’t attend, you may as well not call yourself a student.
I was prepared – I pre-wrote my assignments, bought cheap vodka and had new outfits that had FGA approval.
By night three I was in my element, or, at least, buzzed enough to pretend that I was a girl who could be in her element like that. That’s when I saw him.
‘You were visiting Lucy. That’s why you were there,’ I say quietly. ‘You never told me that. I guess that’s why . . .’
A shiver passes through me. His shoulders tense. This is clearly not the time.
‘How did you two end?’ I ask at a normal volume.
He relaxes ever so slightly, relieved at the quick diversion.
‘With a text,’ he replies bitterly. ‘She was on a girls’ trip, and apparently it couldn’t wait.’
‘That’s gotta suck,’ I mumble, studying him carefully.
He did his best to wipe all traces of sadness from his voice, but even he couldn’t help the audible clench in his throat right at the end of his sentence.
Suddenly he can’t look at me, or the bar, or anything for that matter.
His eyes fix on an ice cube, following it as it melts, bobbing in his glass.
‘That was just the start.’ He gives a brief, sadistic chuckle.
‘We’d moved in together right after graduation to make up for the years apart, but she owned the apartment we shared; her dad gifted it to her.
So, after the text, I had three days before she got back to pack up my stuff and move back in with my mum. ’
I suck in air through my teeth, my face pained on his behalf. It’s loud and harsh enough to make him look up at me.
He shrugs. ‘Nothing quite like getting dumped and told you’re homeless with a poorly typed message at four in the morning.’
‘Four a.m.?’
‘She was out clubbing. I reckon she met someone else. Props to her for not just cheating, I guess.’
‘I mean . . . that’s not really where the bar should be, is it?’
He chuckles again, but this time the sound is a little lighter. Sweeter.
‘You’re right – it’s not. But that was Lucy. I mean, you know what she’s like.’
‘You could say that.’ I try to cut the resentment from my tone, but it seeps out like venom. His eyes widen awkwardly before dropping back to nervously seeking solace in his glass.
Lucy and I ended up forming a surprising friendship in the year we spent living next door to each other.
Or, at least, enough of an acquaintanceship that meant she could relieve herself of all claims of animosity.
But it was a plaster on a deep, wide-open wound, which she took great pleasure in ripping off the first chance she got.
I feel his eyes flit over my pursed lips, notice the dipped eyebrows, and come to a rest as they count my shaky breaths. He motions to speak, and my body grows ice cold at the thought of him addressing the elephant in the room.
‘I am sorry about what happened at May Madness,’ he says gently.
‘I was going through a lot and I needed to blow off some steam. And back then, steam meant going out with Luce. But that doesn’t matter.
What matters is that I was awful. I know it now and I knew it back then too.
That’s why, when I saw you in that boardroom, I thought it’d be better to just pretend I didn’t remember you like that. ’
My chest has grown tighter, my breath shortening . . . I can’t relive this yet. Not in this pub, not tonight.
‘It’s fine,’ I say.
He hangs his head low, storming ahead in a rush to get the words out. ‘No, it’s not. It shouldn’t be and I am sorry.’
‘Honestly, it’s fine, let’s just drop it. And I’m sorry about Lucy.’ I reach for my glass, quickly taking a sip before nodding heartily at him in solidarity. ‘From what I’ve gathered, relationships aren’t all they’re cracked up to be anyway.’
He laughs this time. Bellows. The sound echoing against the wood and vibrating through both me and the booth.
‘Sorry,’ he eventually manages to say. ‘I don’t buy that for a second.’
I squeal as he continues to laugh back at me. ‘It’s true!’
I want to be angry, resent him, even just conjure a frown, but the light in his face forces the corners of my mouth up to my cheeks.
I missed the warmth of his eyes and the joyous crook of his brow when we ventured into the May Madness drama.
If you ask me, that’s even more reason to never bring it up again.
‘I had something serious-ish with someone last year and it pretty much solidified that the whole song and dance isn’t worth it,’ I say.
‘Sure, uh-huh. And yet your five-year plan says you should . . .’
‘Be with a partner that I could consider marrying by thirty. I’m aware.’
He smirks triumphantly, bowing in his seat and accepting accolades from an imaginary crowd. I slap him lightly on the arm just to make it stop. It doesn’t work, because his arm’s pure muscle and it stops me in my tracks. He laughs some more.
‘So, tell me, Maddy. Is this future husband of yours falling from the sky?’
‘Hey, it’s not that easy!’ I try to argue with intention, but my tone falls hilariously short. I can’t stop smiling at his stupid face. I blame the booze. ‘As you can imagine, there’s a whole list of boxes I need to have ticked.’
He nods mock-militantly. ‘All dutifully committed to notebook number three?’
‘Number four is for the lists, actually.’ I take a huge gulp of my drink, noisily slurping the dregs with the straw as he pretends to take a mental note.
‘But before I can even get to the list, I need to find a man that’s attracted to me.
That part is, well, if I’m being honest, currently quite thin on the ground. ’
He laughs even louder, still light and hearty in its tone, but now callous given the circumstances.
‘Is my lack of appeal funny to you?’ I ask in disbelief.
I knew it was too good to be true – a couple of shared drunk laughs do not negate who he was and always will be. A prick from primary school who spent years of his life with Lucy Hayward, the one person I may dislike more than him.
He freezes the second he notices my scowl, his smile dropping just as quickly. He shifts in his seat to face me as straight on as he can. Our knees brush as he turns.
‘OK, no. Never. What is funny to me is that you actually believe that you lack appeal.’
I blink back at him confused.
‘Really, you’re gonna make me do this?’ he asks, eyebrow raised sceptically.
I continue to scowl, mind racing to decipher this new riddle.
‘Oh, you seriously don’t get it.’ He tuts. ‘Tonight alone, I have watched at least four men in this place almost break their neck trying to watch you walk.’
I feel my cheeks go hot at this new change in direction, but it doesn’t deter him. He tilts his head.
‘There is no way you don’t notice. You must know that you’re stunning – you’re not stupid.’
His eyelids dip ever so slightly, narrowing in on my face as he patiently awaits my response, but I don’t know what to say. Up until this point, I wasn’t convinced Aiden even recognised I was a woman, let alone one that he might consider pretty.
‘I mean . . . I have my moments? Decent make-up and the right clothes can . . . help, I guess?’
It’s deeply embarrassing talking about myself in this way in general, let alone with Aiden. An Aiden who inadvertently just called me attractive.
‘Good. Because you’d be stupid to think otherwise.’ He slams his glass on the table, caught in his own flow as his words attempt to catch up with his racing mind. ‘Like your performance on Saturday? I only saw a video of it and even I thought . . .’
He trails off, his eyes widening. His jaw goes tight, sheer panic smattered across his face as he raises his glass and quickly drains it.
‘Even you thought . . . what?’
‘Unimportant.’ He rushes on. ‘The point is there’s no way in hell you’re devoid of interest. What you lack is the ability to take notice, because you’re blinded by your lists and your seven notebooks.’
I let him drop the first one, but I can’t let another comment like this go.
‘It is important,’ I say. ‘What did you think?’
‘Focus, Maddy!’ He tries to mask his fluster with this new, sterner tone. ‘What I’m saying is you need to branch out some more. That’s the whole point of this bet, isn’t it?’
‘I thought the point was the job?’
‘The end goal is the job, obviously. But you are supposed to stop planning and just let things happen. How’s that going for you?’
It’s a subject change if I ever saw one. Before I can press him further, I feel someone creep up behind me.
‘Aiden!’ Pippa whines his name, shimmying over with a couple of new drinks clearly in her system. ‘We’re dancing! Now, Mister.’
She sways ever so slightly, hands on her hips in what I can only assume is her attempt at being authoritative while still cute. He stares from her to me, a pained expression on his face that I can’t help but stifle a small giggle at.
‘Oh, Maddison, you should come too, if you want,’ she adds half-heartedly as she follows his eyes towards my face.
He’s begging me not to leave him alone with her, and I do, deeply, want to help. But this is the perfect exit and the idea of him squirming is far more delicious than staying would be.
‘I’m actually going to head out!’ I say, sweeping my phone into my bag. ‘But this has been fun!’
I leave the humid pub behind me and welcome the crisp night air as I step into the street. It’s less than five minutes before I feel my phone buzz in my pocket, the message shining bright against the dark street.
Alone with Pippa?! Low, even for you, Maddy . . .
A laugh escapes my lips before I can stop it.
I didn’t plan it, just let it happen! Going with the flow, etc. :)
He opens it instantly, the typing bubble appearing the second I’ve hit send.
Game on. I’ll see you next week.
Something shifts in me as I walk towards the bus stop. A warm tingle in my lower abdomen that has nothing to do with the alcohol.