Only a Dream

7

I watch my phone ring on the side. His name has popped up, behind it a picture of him with my hand squeezing them big hamster like cheeks. I don't know what's stopping me from answering, why I'm so adamant to live in this heartbreak for longer. But everytime I close my eyes, I see him and Abby at the party. I see her tarting, her bony finger encased around her dyed hot pink hair, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction that he's paying attention to her once more. My pride has definitely taken a blow that he's run to her straight away, not even giving it a week before he rubs it in my face that any girl will pine after him, and he'll never be strong enough to say no.

I ignore it the first time, then the second time. By the third it becomes clear he isn't going to give up. So I reluctantly pick the phone up and hold it to my ear, my hands caught at the base of my lips with unease.

"Kathleen," he says quietly, his voice sounding conflicted.

"Why are you calling me Van?"

My own sounds weak, though I was hoping to come across as even the slightest bit strong. It's impossible when it comes to Van, after a year of him having me under his spell, I can never seem to shake it off. The things he does to me, he makes me so vulnerable. But I love him, plain and simple. And he knows it all too well.

"Come for a drive with me, love," he says softly and my eyes flutter closed as a means to control myself. I should say no really, be adamant that we shouldn't. Maybe our Nath is right, maybe we are toxic.

"We can't Van," I sigh, "it's over, you said it yourself!"

"Kath, you know I didn't mean it, not really," he pleads, "I love you Kath, I miss you. Please meet me- just for a drive Nowt more."

"Fine," I mumble, "but no fussing. Be here in twenty."

Twenty minutes later on the dot, Van beeps outside for me. I nervously pull at my hair, scrunching my nose up at how greasy it is. I didn't bother to dress up and show him what he's missing, I gave that a go the other night and he was draped all over Abby with no attention paid to me at all. So what's the point? I trail down stairs as slow as I can be, insistent on making him wait, and join him in the car exactly twenty five minutes since he called me, not even glancing in his direction.

"Kath," Van says softly, his hand reaching between the strands of my hair to reach my face, where he cups my jaw. I still don't look at him.

"Drive then," I say sharply.

He sighs but doesn't argue, dropping his hand from my face to the gearstick. The drive is tense and uncomfortable, I hold my arms crossed over my chest and stare out of the window. It's a right miserable day out, so rain clouds any vision I may have of the outside world but it's better than looking at him. Soon the car comes to a stop, and Van turns to me.

I finally gain the courage to look at him, watch his eyes fill with sorrow as he turns to face me fully, the blue so vivid and endorsing, I nearly have to look away again just to catch a breath.

"I'm sorry," he sighs, after a drawn out silence of him just staring at me, "God Kath, I really am. I overreacted, I know I did. Jealousy got the better of me."

"Just spare me Van, I saw you draped over Abby at that party as well. You couldn't have been that sorry," I scoff.

"All I could think about was you Kath," he argues softly but I just scoff once again, keeping my eyes fixated on the Mersey before me.

"It didn't look that way from where I was standing."

"Why did you say what you said? Do you really think there's a chance Dylan could come back and you'd fall into his arms? Leave me for him?" he says hastily.