Page 49 of The Absence of You
It takes me a few moments to process his words. What the hell does he mean, it’s not fair to Charlotte?
“I don’t understand. Why would Charlotte care about us spending time together? You said you had an understanding.” Grayson refuses to meet my gaze. His only visible reaction is the tick of his jaw.
“Charlotte and I have decided to try again. I thought it was over with her, but it’s not.” He and Charlotte are back together? He told me over and over that they were done, and I believed him. It wasn’t actually his words that persuaded me he had no feelings for her. It was the moments we shared together recently. The way he made me feel just days ago when we had sex and the way he looked at me when we danced at the ball. They weren’t the actions of someone who was thinking about getting back with their ex. I shake my head in disbelief. He shifts his bag to his other shoulder and clears his throat. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?!” My voice is strained and doesn’t sound like my own. I feel like I’m having an out of body experience.
“You’ll be fine joining the rest of the class for swimming now. You don’t need me.”
“I don’t give a fuck about the swimming.” I’m almost shouting, and Callie shuffles uncomfortably next to me.
“I’ll give you a minute. I’ll make an excuse for you with Coach, but you probably shouldn’t take too long.” She lightly touches my arm, as if to check I’m okay with her leaving, and I nod. She hesitates for a second, but then the second bell rings, and she hurries towards the sports hall. I take a slow breath, willing myself to keep calm. He said he was going to be too busy working for his father too. Maybe there is more to this than he’s saying.
“Is this because of your father? I know how he can be.” Maybe I’m just clutching at straws, trying to find any other possible explanation as to why he’d be saying he’s back with Charlotte. Anything other than it being because he wants to be with her. Maybe he’s just trying to please his dad. I could understand that. Fuck I hope it’s that. I’m very aware that I’m on the verge of sounding desperate at this point, but fuck, I am desperate. “Are you getting back with her to keep him happy?”
“This is not about my father. Look I haven’t got time for this,” he replies bluntly as he starts walking away from me towards the main academy building. I should have some fucking dignity and let him walk away. But some stubborn part of me just can’t accept it. Ever since Friday, I’ve been floating on air. It meant something to both of us. I know it did. I didn’t tell Grayson it was my first time, so maybe it’s unfair of me to assume he’d place the same significance on that night as I had. But I was so sure he was as into it as I was. Catching up to him, I grab hold of his upper arm and pull him back.
“Goddamnit, Grayson, talk to me. Did Friday mean nothing to you?”
He stops so abruptly I almost walk into his back.
Turning on me, he walks us backwards until I’m backed up against one of the parked cars. He grasps my chin and pulls my face around until it’s inches from his. His hold isn’t painful, in fact it’s gentle in a way that’s at odds with the glare on his face, but his intention is clear. He wants me to know exactly how serious he’s being.
“Stop Dahlia. Fucking stop. We had sex. Once. I didn’t make you any promises. But it was clearly a mistake. We never should have gone there.” I gasp, and my knees buckle. Only the force of him pressing up against me, keeps me from falling as his cruel words land.
A mistake. That’s what he thinks of the night I gave him my virginity.
How did I get this so wrong?
Images of Charlotte touching him flash through my mind. Callie’s warning weeks ago to stay away from him. Grayson’s own words, telling me how much he had changed while I’d been gone. The warning signs were there, but I’d chosen to ignore them.
I only saw what I wanted to see.
I thought I was the only person who knew the real him.
I’ve been so stupid.
And if his harsh words weren’t already enough, he continues.
“Fuck, Dahlia. Are you really that naïve? Did you think this was some fairytale? Two best friends rekindle their friendship and fall in love, and live happily ever-fucking-after? Where was that fairytale shit when your mum was drinking herself into oblivion? Where was it when I needed you?” Before I can choke out an answer, he carries on, “Newsflash Dahlia, fairytales don’t exist. Life doesn’t work like that,” he spits out at me, his face inches from mine. My heart stutters, and I fight back the tears which are seconds from falling. But it’s his final words that cut the most. “You and I are nothing.”
Grayson lets go of my chin and backs off, and despite how messed up it is, I immediately miss his touch. My vision blurs with unshed tears and despite my best efforts, a whimper escapes. He pulls at his hair in frustration, before turning and stalking away. I’m trying to pull myself together as he calls back over his shoulder. “Leave me the fuck alone Dahlia. Let me go.”
The gaping hole that opens up in my chest as he walks away, may as well be a physical one, such is the pain I feel at his dismissal. My knees are weak and I stumble when I reach down to the floor for my bag. I somehow make it back to Dee’s car, and my hands shake as I try to insert the key in the ignition. Grayson’s words repeat over and over in my head. You and I are nothing, You and I are nothing.
Chapter Forty-One
DAHLIA
“What is this place?” I ask Callie as we get out of an Uber in a dark and damp back alley in town. If it wasn’t for the thump of bass and what are, quite obviously two bouncers standing outside, I’d have no idea there was anything down here. “I haven’t got my ID with me,” I whisper to Callie, but she just confidently strides up to the bouncers.
The guy on the left nods respectfully at her, “Miss Messina,” and holds the door behind him open for us.
The more time I spend with this girl, the more questions I have. Before I can ask how he knows her, Callie drags me inside and down a steep, dingy flight of stairs. The walls are matte black and the floor is painted with an epoxy black gloss paint. The only light comes from a flickering fluorescent strip that runs down the sloped ceiling. Our shoes stick to the steps, many a drink and God knows what else clearly having been spilt on them. As we get further down, the music gets louder. Callie pushes open a set of heavy doors that swing back and reveal a large basement bar filled with people dancing. The sound of Arctic Monkeys’ Do I Wanna Know? is booming, and dozens of bodies are writhing together on the dance floor. At the far end of the room is another staircase that leads up to a mezzanine with a second bar on one side and the DJ on the other. Under the mezzanine floor is a wall of booths with velvet couches and tables that carry on right the way along, hugging round the far corner.
We head further into the room and the sweet scent of liquor and floral perfume mixes with the muskier undertones of aftershave. It’s starting to feel like a mistake coming here tonight. Callie must sense my hesitation as she threads fingers through mine, pulling me through the crowd of sweaty bodies, dancing to the loud beat. We push our way through to the end of the long bar, but despite how busy it is, as soon as Callie catches the bartender’s attention, he comes straight over to take our order.
“Two margaritas and four tequilas please,” she shouts over the music, holding up her fingers so he can’t miss her order. I raise my eyebrows. She clearly wasn’t joking when she said we were going to get wasted tonight. As the bartender prepares the drinks, Callie turns to look at me. She gently tugs on the ends of my hair, so I have no choice but to meet her gaze.
