Chapter 35
Ember
Everything was foggy as we shoved our way out of the club, with every person blurring into some sort of weird colourful blob. I couldn’t tell whether it was from the intense strobe lighting or I was just dazed from the fact that Arthur and I nearly kissed. My heart was still manically drumming in my chest as we reached the outside entrance. The street was wet and dusk, puddles glistening with the reflection of dimly-lit streetlights. I seized the opportunity to inhale a deep breath, filling my lungs with the fresh, damp air, the coolness soothing my heated limbs. Granted, I felt like such a terrible person. I thought giving Arthur space was the best thing for him, and perhaps guiltily, for me too. I thought if I didn’t have to see him, maybe I wouldn’t have to watch whatever monstrosity occurred because of my shitty choice. Now look at me, throwing mixed signals out left, right and centre. I knew I couldn’t not come tonight. We were nearly at the end of first year and Poppy would have been shattered if I didn’t come with her, especially considering I already bailed on a lot of things over the past few months, aka, any time she wanted to visit Sam at his flat. Being a hairsbreadth away from smooching Arthur tonight, however, wasn’t on my list of expectations for the evening. I literally had 0 self-control when it came to him. The music, the ambience, the way his blue irises bore into me, and the heat of his body ever so slightly brushing mine was enough to make my body flip and somersault like there was a tiny Olympic gymnast taking residence in my stomach.
I needed to get a grip. We couldn’t do this. We just couldn’t. Not when I was harbouring a secret that carried so much weight. One that had the power to literally make and break him. If he wanted to discuss this, I was going to have to be nonchalant. There wasn’t any need for me to be cutthroat, I’d pretty much done that already by slowly fizzling him out of my life. I’d blame it on the drink, everyone knows I’m a lightweight anyway, so it’d be somewhat believable at least. I didn’t want the others getting their hopes up either. They were all probably on an absolute high right now, thinking their matchmaking had been proven worthwhile. I didn’t care though, even if it meant raining on their parade. None of them would ever understand. On paper, Arthur and I may have seemed conventionally good together, but in reality, we were worlds apart. I couldn’t let him fall too deeply, because the deeper he got, the closer he would get to discovering that no matter how hard I try to do the right thing, someone else would always get hurt as a result. I didn’t want that for him, I’d done enough.
“Sorry guys, it reeked so badly of BO in there,” Poppy grimaced.
“Might have been me, I’m that sweaty,” Sam says, sniffing his armpits. “And before anyone gets clever. Yes, I used deodorant before I came out,” he grins a knowing look at Poppy.
“I love Komedia, but that was so hot in there tonight. Literally unbearable,” Amy complains, taking a literal mini-Chinese fan out of her bag and begins fanning her face with it. Her preparedness always astounded me. “Ember, how are you cold right now?,” she asks.
I’m confused at first, but it’s then that I notice my teeth are chattering and my bare arms are splayed in goosebumps. Before I can even begin to rub them up and down, I feel a gentle weight on my shoulders as they are quickly covered in a soft material. I turn round to find that Arthur is missing his Navy long-sleeve shirt, sporting nothing but a tight-fitting t-shirt that moulds perfectly around his enlarged biceps and…pack it in. Stop looking at his biceps.
Hes given me his shirt. I try to ignore the immediate pull of my heartstrings as I place my arms inside the armholes and inadvertently breathe in the residue of his scent, musk and pine. Why was it that wearing someone else’s clothes felt like they were engulfing you in a warm hug?
“You didn’t have to,” I whispered, barely meeting his eyes.
“I wanted to,” he assured, carefully glancing back at me.
Although, they don’t say anything in response to that, I don’t miss the mutual smirk that Sam, Poppy and Amy all share with one another.
The awkwardness is soon crumpled by the sound of loud murmurs edging towards us. The noise grows closer and closer until we’re face to face with a large mass of drunk men, obnoxiously loud and all wearing matching white t-shirts with ‘The Great Bar Crawl’ scrawled across the front in Red comic sans and a photo of a cartoon beer keg underneath. You’d think by the sounds of it that they were students, but they were all definitely middle-aged with greying beards, balding heads and peek-a-boo beer bellies poking out over the edge of their jeans. Two of the guys literally shove Sam out of the way as they try to head through the entrance, I can see him desperately grit his teeth, clearly not wanting to make a scene. One of the other guys then proceeds to, in a public display, drop down his jeans, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination as he pisses into the drain, before wriggling them back up and grinning at us before following his friends inside. It’s mad to me that that’s the sort of guy who has offspring. You can’t help but feel sorry for them. We all communally exhale as the last of the drunken-beer-belly-clan stumbles inside. God only know if they’ve even bought a ticket, the security guards were nowhere to be found.
“You know what, I don’t think I fancy going back in there you know?,” Sam says, his voice lathered in dry sarcasm.
“Agreed,” we all echo. “Maybe we could think of another bar or something? More of a sit-down and chill?,” Poppy asks to the group.
We all start scrolling on our phones with the task of finding a casual bar that we’d all never been to before when I’m greeted with a sharp stinging pain.
“Ow!,” I scream, before turning around to see one of the men from the bar crawl chuckling in my direction. “What the fuck. Did you just slap my ass?!,” I accuse.
The man looks about 50, stinks of beer, a deep receding hairline, and a massive gut pouring out of the side of his jeans. He starts to grin and nod, grin and nod!
“Saw you on my way in. Thought you had a nice piece of ass. My mates in there bet me ￡50 that I couldn’t get your number, so here I am, hoping, he says with a sleezy smile. In what universe any man thought it was appropriate to touch a woman without their consent was mindboggling enough, but the fact that he thought that slapping my ass was the way to get my number, was inexplicable. Why did men think, ‘oh yeah, you know what I think will get a girl to go out with me, I’ll touch her without asking, she’ll dig that.’
I feel the red-hot anger bubbling through me like molten lava, “you’re not getting it, so I suggest you piss off before I call security.” Sam, Arthur, Poppy and Amy all gather closer to me now, forming a human shield.
He doesn’t budge and if anything, looks even more smug that he’s got a reaction out of me.
“You heard her, fuck off!,” Poppy and Amy shout.
“Playing hard to get, are we?,” the man piss-takes, pulling a pathetic pouty face.
Sam takes a calmer approach and starts ushering the man away from me now, “you’ve had too many pal. Leave now or we’re calling security.” The man starts yanking Sam’s hands off him before moving back round towards me and grabs me firmly by the waist, hoisting my dress up in the process.
“No need to play hard to get with me love,” he says stroking my waist with his chubby fingers, “just give me your number and I’ll go.” I felt sick to the stomach. Not just because he was touching me, but because he thought I was some sort of prize.
“Get the fuck off me, I’ve already told you you’re not having it!,” I try to pry him off me, but he’s too strong. Poppy and Amy have already darted inside yelling for security, whilst Sam gets his phone out and shows the man that he’s dialled 999.
“I’ll call the police and you best fucking believe I’m serious, it’s sexual assault,” Sam says through gritted teeth, hovering his finger over the call button.
“Would like to see you try mate. Doesn’t matter anyway, I give up,” he shoves me off him so hard that I nearly fly onto the pavement face-first. “Guess you can’t ever please stupid little whore’s like this.” He spits on the ground before turning to walk back inside. What happens next is nothing that I would have ever seen coming, it happens so fast, a blink and you’ll miss it kind of ordeal. One minute the man is swanking off, and the next he’s flat down on the ground. I turn my attention towards Arthur who looks absolutely seething at the teeth, almost animalistic, his bare fist still raised. He doesn’t even need to say anything, I can sense his fury from a mile away. Sam and I watch in horror as the next few seconds unravel. The man gets up, his face a magnetic crimson. He lunges at Arthur now, uppercutting him straight in the jaw before continuously pounding on his face. Sam tries to break it up, using all his force to pull the man from Arthur, but it’s no use. I can see the blood starting to drip from his nose, and the swelling beginning to form around his eyes as he fills with exhaustion. The man isn’t giving up though, he keeps hitting with a closed fist until he’s got Arthur practically on the main road.
I don’t know what comes over me, but the rage I felt when he had his thick hands clutched against my waist had become tenfold. I inhale a huge gulp, squeezing my fists tightly to my sides as I watch Arthur fall in and out of consciousness, before blowing out a massive throat-destroying scream, “STOP!”
The next thing I know, the man is yanked away from Arthur, being hoisted in the air by the neck, his breathing sparse and clumpy, as if being choked. It’s not Arthur’s doing though, he’s stood back on the pavement, looking traumatised at the scene unfolds in front of him. The man’s words are incoherent, but I imagine he’s begging for mercy. I look down at my hands and see one raised in the air, my right palm curved in a ‘C’ shape, as if I’m choking him right from the source.
I’m doing this.
Completely out of my control, I swipe my hand to the left and watch his body fly through the air in the same direction and fall into a heap on the side of the pavement like a bag of bones. I drop my hand back down by my sides as I start to shake. What did I just do? I had zero control. It’s like my body had a completely different mind of its own, overpowered and overtaken. My breathing becomes rapid as I run to check on Arthur.
His bruised eyes are wide pools of horror as he stares between me and the man currently panting on the side of the road. Thank god he’s alive.
“W-what,” he gulps, licking the blood from his lips, “what the FUCK just happened?” he squeals. Sam is currently crouched down by the man, looking at me with the same expression of terror plastered across his face.
“We couldn’t find the security guard-Ember, oh my god- what is going on?!,” Poppy asks through a fearful voice, Amy stood next to her with a gaping mouth. How long had they been stood there?
I don’t know what happened. Was it from doing the spell? I thought I had to practise over and over for it to work even remotely. My magic had never just unleashed like that before. Everyone looked terrified of me, it made me feel sick. Hell, I was terrified of me right now. It’s like my rage had sprung legs. I’m not a violent person whatsoever, sure, I may think some violent things from time to time, but I’d never actually go through with them. I wanted him to just leave Arthur alone initially, but when he kept pounding on him, my mind wanted more, I wanted him to hurt. The cogs in my brain begin to whir as I start to realise…I channelled the anger. I visualised what I wanted; I wanted him to hurt. To hurt like I did, to hurt like he hurt Arthur. My mind was fixated on his pain, and nothing else.
Magic was like manifestation.
I manifested this; I willed it to happen. I didn’t need any book or spell, the desire was that great, it superseded my entire body. Everything was starting to make sense, but I knew the others wouldn’t see it that way. I needed to try and explain myself, but I knew that would be a nearly impossible task considering they all had eyes. I dread to think what was going through all of their heads right now.
“Arthur,” I say, trying to reach for his palms, “I can explain.”
“W-what are you?,” he splutters with a look on his face that can only be described as an amalgamation of panic and disgust.
Poppy and Amy run over towards us now, hooking their arms underneath his and slowly guide him away from me.
I swallow down the mammoth sized lump in my throat as my eyes start to prickle with tears. They’re all looking at me like I’m some sort of monster and I can’t even say I blame them, maybe I was. This is exactly what I was afraid of happening. I should have known better; I should have sworn off magic and stayed sworn off. All it could ever bring was pain. As I try to meet Arthur’s swollen eyes and bloody face, I choke on my tears as I plead, “I-I’m so sorry.” He doesn’t look at me though, none of them do, I don’t need them to spell it out for me, I know when I’ve outstayed my welcome. They don’t understand and they never would, and with that, I turn around and run away, as fast as my legs would take me.