Him

Him

A Story by Rachel Patterson
"

Not finished, but a piece of a story that I'm currently working on. Feedback would be hugely appreciated!

"

I stared at him from behind the bar I worked at for a moment, trying my best to let his words sink in. Nobody else was around, apart from my two colleagues, tending to the rush of students on the other bar trying to consume as much alcohol in the last ten minutes as possible. I glanced up from the cloth in my hand to look over his face. He sipped his beer, an almost cocky smile on his lips. As much as I tried, I simply couldn’t fathom the situation.

At least he wasn’t a stranger. Almost the opposite actually. I’d known him almost a year and a half, he was in some of my classes at university. We were friends, but never really all that close, mostly due to a lack of time together. If it were up to me, we would’ve been much closer friends by this point, but it always seemed the gods were against us.

I remembered the moment I knew with him as if it was one of my most precious memories. It was in the first few weeks of uni, when I was a shy little thing, yet to emerge from her shell. I treasure those first few weeks of uni so much, making friends that I can only hope will be around for the rest of my life. I remember it was a warm sunny day, early to mid October. I had a short break between my lectures. We were stood outside the building where our lectures are, me, him, and one of my best friends here. We were laughing, he was smoking, discussing memes and making ridiculously awful puns. He’s good at them (if you can class making me want to punch him for some of the puns he made as good). There was just something about him, my heart went fluttery for a short moment. It was at the moment when I had almost plucked up the courage to flirt, that my other friend began to cry with laughter at the realisation of how ugly the building of our uni was.

The rest of first year, and branching into second, we simply continued to miss each other I suppose. Our classes together reduced, we both got crazy busy and weighed down by the stress of university.  I had relationships that all failed throughout first year, and by the end I was so done and heartbroken that flirting with anyone was at the back of my mind. I found him on tinder once, towards the end of first year. My shyness at the time prevented me from swiping right, but I almost instantly regretted it. That was actually what sparked the conversation at the bar, when he came into my work.

I blinked back to the present tense as he put his plastic cup down on the side. Trying to find something to distract me, I glanced at the clock. Midnight. I could finish. I brushed myself down, noticing just how beer stained by uniform was, and excused myself from him for a moment. After getting the nod from my manager, I collected my things, claimed the drink I’d been bought and went to stand beside him at the bar.


“So...you really mean that? What you said?” I sipped my drink, wincing ever so slightly at the strength. I hadn’t eaten in about five hours, so this drink would most likely hit me faster than I’d like. He just nodded, finishing about his sixth pint. Crap. I was really hoping that he was joking, just trying to put me off at work or something. Crap.


“The question is though, if you weren’t shy or embarrassed, would you have swiped left or right?” His words were slightly slurred, as he began to roll a cigarette on the bar. I paused for a moment. My mind was practically screaming RIGHT! I WOULD’VE SWIPED RIGHT! I’VE LIKED YOU FOR SO LONG! But my mouth wouldn’t make the words happen. Instead, I just shook my head.


“I can’t answer that question…”

“Why?” He pouted with his right eyebrow arched slightly, making my heart flutter again. Stop doing that you f*****g cutie!


“You know...I have a boyfriend…” I felt my entire soul sink slightly as I remembered that fact myself. I had a boyfriend. Not only that, I’d been with him for almost four months. S**t. He was unphased.


“Oh yeah! I like him, he’s funny!” I rolled my eyes, letting out a small chuckle. He was drunk, I was sure of it. His eyes glazed over, and he couldn’t physically look me in the eyes even if he tried. “Can we go outside? I wanna smoke.” I nodded, said goodbye to my colleagues, and followed him outside.

The wind hit me as soon as we stepped through the door, tugging what was left of my ponytail out. Everyone around me shivered, but for some strange reason I didn’t feel the cold. I glanced at the drink in my hand, sipped the last of it, and put it down on one of the picnic benches. I watched him for a moment, the feelings I’d repressed for so long beginning to bubble up to the surface. Well s**t I thought to myself. There goes your chance at a successful relationship with Jack!


“Are you ok?” His words closed down my thoughts, as I noticed the far off glaze that I’d worn for the past few minutes at least. I nodded, shoving my hands nervously into my pockets.


“Just thinking...so...you really like me?”

Now it was his turn to nod. “I have since the day we met really.” Again with the butterflies. A*****e. I took a shaky breath in.


“I should uh...probably get home. I’m knackered.” He put his cigarette out and pulled me into a hug. I smiled softly, noticing that he was just the right height to rest my head on his chest. Immediately after noticing this, I scolded myself for it.

And just like that, we said our goodbyes, and I walked home with a smile on my face.


----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


I hadn’t been completely happy with Jack, my boyfriend, for a little while now. We had been together just over four months, met on an internet dating site. The only reason I’d been on there in the first place was because I was lonely. I wanted someone to talk to and flirt with, but never even considered anything serious. When we started talking, there was a spark, I had to admit it. We spoke online and through texts for almost a month, the month before I came back to university for my second year. We said “I love you” before we even met in person. Everything moved so fast. He planned a future for us, said that he wanted to be with me forever. Said that he would never break up with me.

When it came to us meeting for the first time, I was terrified. So many times in my life, I had been hurt just like this. I would get into a relationship from the internet, fall head over heels in love, and be hurt when I met them in person. I struggled to let my guard down, I always have and I suppose I always will. On the day, I was too nervous and scared to meet him in person, and so instead I arranged to meet him when I left the freshers party that was on that night. Three double vodkas, two pints of cider and four shots later, I met him. It was great, the spark was still there, and so he stayed over.

The first two months I’d say, were great. He met my family, I met his. We were cute together. I dragged him to London to see a show I’d wanted to see forever. He asked me to be his girlfriend, and of course I accepted. It was great.

But after that, things slowed down. I didn’t get excited about seeing him anymore. I’d rather hang out with my friends or go back home than see him. I didn’t wanna kiss or cuddle or have sex. I suppose, looking back that I just fell out of love. We rushed into everything so quickly that it blinded me, and rather than being in love, I was in love with the idea of being in love. We began to argue more and more. Sometimes it got really nasty. I scared myself with how nasty I could be. There were so many times that we nearly broke up, but I told myself, it’ll be fine, you want to be with him really, uni is just stressing you out. In hindsight, I should have ended the relationship at those first fights, when things first started to spiral out of control. But in my heart, I knew he was such a lovely guy, and I just couldn’t bring myself to do that.

It had been a week since my incident at the bar, and I could not stop thinking about him, no matter how much I tried. I had dreams about him, and I talked to him more than I talked to Jack. I knew it wasn’t right, but I couldn’t help it. I had to get out of my relationship, I felt so guilty but yet I just couldn’t stop myself. Before I even had a chance to think about how I would end it, a huge fight broke out. We were shouting at each other on the phone until almost 4am, both of us in floods of tears. So many times that night I suggested ending it, but he insisted that he wouldn’t end it. He said it was up to me. By this point, I was so tired and gave up fighting. I told him that we would give it two weeks, so that we could still have valentine's day together, and if we were no better, we would both walk away. I suppose he was tired too, as he agreed, and we fell asleep.


----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Usually, the morning after a fight, I would wake up feeling relieved. Happy that we weren’t fighting anymore and had resolved it. However, this time was different. I woke up, feeling like my heart was made of stone, and sunk to my feet as soon as I moved from bed. That day was quite possibly the worst mood I had ever been in. I spent it alone, until Jack messaged and asked if I would go and grab food with him. When I said no, he insisted. I had no energy or will in me to argue, so reluctantly I agreed to meet him. It was the most awkward meal we’ve ever had. We sat there, hardly speaking. Every time he tried to touch me I couldn’t help but flinch away. I couldn’t look him in the eye, because I knew in two weeks time I would be breaking up with him. I couldn’t remain in a relationship where I was this unhappy, because how was that fair on either of us?

This horrendous, post-argument mood remained for the next four days. It became almost unbearable. I spent every day moping around, avoiding my friends and even him, only speaking to people when I really had to. I’d go home and just cry for hours on end, or sit on my bed and stare blankly at a wall for that same period of time. I couldn’t physically hold on for much longer, it was too much. I came home from lectures one Friday afternoon, and realised that the fact that he was coming over that night was what had been making me feel sick with nerves all day. It was that moment I knew. I had to do it.


Jack: hey baby, you ok? Xxxxxxxx

Me: Not really…

Jack: why? What’s up? Xxxxxxx

Me: there are four ways i can do this...1. I do it over text, and be able to express exactly how I feel, although be a bit of a dick. 2. I do it over the phone, and be terrified but still be able to say how I feel kinda. 3. I meet you in person, and potentially be so nervous that I can’t say what I mean. Or 4. I ignore how I’m feeling and sacrifice my own happiness

Jack: You’re scaring me. I’m gonna call you.


And just like that, my phone rang. I drew in a deep breath, feeling tears begin to prick at my eyes. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but I also knew that it had to be done. I just had to put myself first for the first time in my life. If I wasn’t happy, then how was it fair on him to keep lying? Swallowing back my tears, I swiped the little icon on my phone, and hit loudspeaker.


“What’s going on?”

“Jack I just can’t...I can’t do this anymore…”

“Do what?”
“This...relationship...I’m so sorry Jack. I’m not happy, I can’t keep lying anymore, I’m not happy.”


There was a heart-breakingly long pause.


“So that’s it?”

“I...I guess so…”

“You planned this all along didn’t you?”

“What? Jack you’re being crazy!”

“You knew I’d fall for you and you were waiting for the right time to break my heart.”
“Jack no! Stop! I genuinely fell for you, but just as easy as you can fall in love, you can fall out.”
“I’m coming over to get my stuff.”


And the call went dead.

Half an hour later, I got a text to say he was outside my flat. I picked up the bag I had filled with things he had left at mine, toothbrush, bed-shirt. Just small things. I composed myself, and went down to greet him. His face was red and puffy, just like mine, from crying. I knew this was going to be hard.


“You can still change your mind you know?” It was at that moment I realized I hadn’t looked him in the eyes, and that I just couldn’t. Instead, I stared down at my shoes and shook my head. I heard him draw in a breath, trying to hold back his tears. “Can I at least have a last hug?” I couldn’t deny him that. Nervously, I stepped forward, and wrapped my arms around him. He held me close, both of us shaking. I wish I could say I felt a spark, or...something. But I just couldn’t. I took a step back, wished him well, and watched him walk away, and out of my life.

© 2017 Rachel Patterson


Author's Note

Rachel Patterson
This is nowhere near finished, or hardly started, but what do you think of where it's going? Also, should I name the "him" character at the bar and if so what should I name him?

My Review

Would you like to review this Story?
Login | Register




Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

95 Views
Added on March 10, 2017
Last Updated on March 10, 2017
Tags: feedback, romance, help, criticism

Author

Rachel Patterson
Rachel Patterson

Cambridge, United Kingdom



About
I write short stories as well as a novel that I'm working on at the moment. more..

Writing