Heart to Hart ✔️

9. Swings and roundabouts

Nina Nesbitt blared through the speakers of my phone. I swayed my hips side to side while folding my clean clothes out of my washing pile. Maybe my t-shirts would make it into my drawers and not my chair.

The events of Monday replayed in my mind. I had avoided Alec for the last three days. Not to the point of screening his calls or texts, but I kept myself busy at home declining any meet ups.

Sian called a few times to make sure I was okay and to stress how bad it would be if I let my impulses control me and went after Alec. She was like a broken record and was messing with my head. I needed a break from her as well.

There she was sticking her nose in my relationships, yet she could avoid talking about hers. That's not how it worked.

I ran twice a day to release all my frustrations and filled the rest of my time by helping my mother, which appeased my father. The best part of it not being the weekend, my dad was at work and I only needed to spend time around him at dinner, which was a quiet affair since his outburst.

I debated whether I should call Max and ask him why he had told Joana we were just friends. I went to dial his number a few times before bottling it.

The music, playing on my phone, stopped and my generic ringtone sounded.

My heart sped up. Max's name appeared on my screen. What did he want?

I swiped the answer button and put the phone to my ear.

"Hello," I spoke, my throat tight.

Max's gravelly voice resonated over the receiver. "Hey, Nat-Nat. I was wondering if you wanted to pop over to my dad's house? I'm picking up some of my stuff. We could catch a movie if you're not busy. He's out."

Sitting down on my bed, I placed the folded t-shirt, still clutched in my hand, on my lap.
An internal battle took place in my head. I wanted to confront Max about my conversation with Joana and his behaviour at the lake, but I didn't want him to get the wrong idea.

Max was an old habit I struggled with, but he could also take my mind off Alec. Sian would probably tell me I was stupid for what I was about to do. Who was she to judge me?

"Okay," I breathed out.

I let him know I would be at his dad's shortly as he only lived around the corner. I could hardly turn up in the ratty old shorts and vest I had worn to help my mum clean the house.

Changing into my favourite pair of stonewashed skinny jeans and a black sleeveless top, I applied some light makeup and passed a brush through my hair before wrapping the loose strands up into a messy bun.

My mum was still in the kitchen so I told her I was going out while avoiding my father who sat in his beloved armchair in the lounge.

***

Mr Reed lived in a charming brick cottage close to the village high street. When Mrs Reed left, the house lost some of its appeal, mirroring how the boys felt from her absence. The paint on the door and window frames was chipped, the front garden overgrown and neglected.

Before me stood a completely different house. The cottage seemed to have received a new lease of life. Giant terracotta pots filled with English lavender adorned the pathway to the door which was recently painted.

I walked up the short driveway to the sage green front door, admiring all the changes, and knocked.

Max answered after two taps as if hovering around the entrance.