All About You

Chapter three

Chapter three 

 Threat 

Present 

There is no way to pretend that I can’t see him. Oliver has his arms around a pretty blonde girl. I try to look away, but I can’t deny that I’m shocked seeing him here. The girl has massive boobs that pop out of her tank top like two swollen balloons. My eyes dart away and I wonder if I can get out of here before he notices me. His attention is on the girl for another second or so before he turns, looking at the exact spot where I’m standing right now. The panic whisks through me, and I quickly look away, already knowing that he is aware that I’m here. 

I bite my lip, contemplating if running out is an option. Now I understand that horrible feeling in my gut that has been bothering me all day. Somehow my mind projected that we could meet again, and here I’m afraid to even acknowledge him. I glance back at him, and from a distance I notice a small smile that creeps over his mouth. My heart skips a beat when he leans toward the girl and whispers something in her ear. Then they both look at me. 

I turn around in a panic to face Dora and her new beautiful companions. “We need to leave…now,” I stutter. I feel like he is tearing my body to pieces from inside out.

“What? We just got here,” Dora says.

“Yeah, have a drink,” adds Nicole, handing me a plastic cup with something inside that looks like beer. Louise is already chatting with a tall dark-haired student.  

“Oliver is here and he is staring at us,” I hiss, trying to push her outside, but she’s having none of it. She looks behind me, probably trying to bring his attention to me, but that’s the last thing I want. I’m thinking that Dora is ruining everything. My new plan that involves staying away from Oliver is out the window. 

“What are you talking about, India? He looks busy with that blondie over there.” She giggles. 

I turn around slowly and peer through my eyelashes. Oliver is no longer staring. His arms are wrapped around the girl’s arse and he is kissing her. My stomach drops and a wave— thick and heated with jealousy—sweeps through me like a waterfall. They aren’t kissing like a loving couple in the park afraid of being seen. Their kisses are hard, deep; I can picture their tongues swirling inside each other’s mouths. My brain is sending an alert to my body to stop looking, but I can’t. His lips are taking control of hers, and he is reaching deep down, pressing her down with his body. People are staring. Someone whistles. I instantly feel memories of Christian flashing through my mind. 

“I need a drink,” I say and rush as far away as I can from Oliver and his “girlfriend.” 

“Now you’re talking,” sings Dora, following me. 

My stomach twists into knots when I think about that evening in the cinema when we shared our first kiss. 

Past 

It was a rainy Wednesday night when I went to Christian’s house excited to see a new James Bond film. Movies were my passion, and I couldn’t miss a premiere of a brand new classic action film. I ran a blog where I posted all my reviews, and I had a decent number of followers. Christian never shared my enthusiasm for films. He had a short attention span, so he managed to sleep though most of the films that we went to. He also didn’t like sitting in a dark room watching films that he could download at home. He knew that I was obsessed, and he also knew that I would go, with or without him.

Christian’s mother opened the door and let me inside. Her cheeks were rosy, and I noticed a half-empty glass of wine in her hand. 

“Come on in, India. You’re soaked right through,” she said, passing me a towel. Getting wet was just the part of the deal. I always used to forget an umbrella purposely. Mum caught me a few times when I was walking back from school in the rain. She used to get mad, shouting that if I got the flu she would send me ill to school. I was kind of weird like that: I liked feeling rain on my bare skin.