Friends with Benefits | Joanne

25- Waiting

I burst back into my hotel room, pulled out my bag and began throwing my belongings into it.

I was unashamedly crying, mainly out of anger, and growled with frustration as I tried to zip my case closed.

Throwing my handbag over my shoulder, I wheeled my case towards the exit. I checked the room for any missed items before walking out and shutting the door with a sigh.

Nobody else was around; they were probably still all at the party having a good night. They probably hadn't even noticed I wasn't there. Why would they? I'm not important. Not to anyone.

It was early morning, and I hailed the first cab that drove past me. The driver looked shocked at my appearance and asked me if I was ok. I managed to keep my cool and asked him to drive me directly to the station. I told him I had had some bad news, and hoped that would be enough of an excuse for my sadness. As we drove away from the hotel, I sat back in my seat and swallowed back the harsh sting of the tears that pricked at my eyes. My hands shook as I handed the driver the cash for my ride and stepped out on to the pavement.

The ticket booth was closed, since it was still too early. I walked over to the automated machine, fished my purse out of my bag and pulled out my card. It took a few attempts to book a ticket; my hands wouldn't stay steady enough to use the touch screen and I got my pin number wrong a couple of times. Of course I did.

I finally got my ticket, booked for the earliest train to leave the station and go back to London. I had a couple more hours to kill before it arrived, and so I wheeled my case down the concourse until I found the waiting room.

It was empty. I hadn't seen another person around since I had walked through the doors. I sat down in the far corner, spreading my jacket over myself in an attempt to keep my body warm. I was still shaking, and I couldn't tell if it was because of the cold or because of my anger.

I didn't want to turn my phone back on. I knew Joe would have called and messaged, probably Stacey too, but I didn't want to hear the excuses. Not anymore. He had finally confirmed what I already knew about myself; I was a stupid, slutty girl and nobody could ever love me. I was damaged beyond repair. Beyond the reach of anyone.

I sat back in my seat and closed my eyes. In my head, the words Joe had said repeated themselves over and over again. The tears ran freely now, burning my skin as they fell one by one like beads off a broken necklace. I clenched my fists, digging my nails into my palms as I tried to control my breathing. Tried to stave off the waves of panic and dread.

In that moment, with those words, my heart had broken. I thought I knew Joe. Thought I knew how he and I worked. I thought I understood how he saw me. I believed him when he said I was different. Believed how he told me I was smart. Beautiful. Talented. Looking back, I cursed myself for being dumb enough to take his word as gospel. I had been stupid enough to be taken in yet again by the words of a man who only wanted me for one thing.

I stared at the blank wall across from me, my eyes not really focusing on anything.

///

"She's not answering. Shit, Stace. What do I do?"

Joe had run through the streets of Blackpool, from the club back to the hotel, with Stacey hot on his heels. He had called hundreds of times, left messages and texts, but Dianne's phone was off.

Making his way down the corridor, he had knocked desperately on her door. Realizing other people would be asleep, he tried to keep his voice low as he called her name.

"She's not here."

Joe shook his head as he looked across at Stacey.

"She's gone."