I Wanna be Your Last, First Love

Salty beads of water trickled down my cheeks. The soft towel Philippe gave me helped with the annoying flow of tears, but didn’t stop them. It seemed impossible as I stayed curled up on the dirty kitchen floor. Stomach in knots, limbs shaking violently, I couldn’t imagine walking back out there and facing him, after everything we’ve been through, all of that time when we simply hated each other when we should have been together. When the word ‘together’ resonated in my head, the contents of my stomach grew dangerously closer to my mouth.

Eyes shut tightly, I realized that if I didn’t get off of the floor, there was a huge chance that I was going to let the contents of my stomach out right on the floor, no matter how disgusting it may sound, it was true. Reaching up, the skin on my fingers touched the smooth surface of the stainless steel countertops. Gripping the counter tightly and tucking my feet under my butt, I pulled myself up and quickly placed my other hand against the cool surface. Stomach rumbling and room spinning, I hung my head over the counter and sucked in a deep breath.

“I got their orders”, Philippe’s voice went right through my head leaving a large pounding headache behind. Squeezing my eyes shut again, I took in another deep breath and felt the pulsing migraine gain more and more strength. As my eyes opened, the light hit them and the pounding grew even stronger. Turning around, Philippe walked up to me and pushed some hair off of my face. “You need to go home”, he said quickly and walked out of the kitchen.

With the horrible pound in my head, I shut my eyes and leaned my body against the counter. The twisting in my stomach and pound in my head was about to make me collapse, and for a moment, I wondered if I was really going to be able to make the walk home. The cars and the horns, people chattering and even the smallest whistle of wind made my head pulse even more when I had a migraine like this.

Philippe walked back in with my coat. He informed me everything was in my pockets, and when he checked out at four, he would check me out so I didn’t lose any money. Until four, he would waitress and cook. As my eyes met his, I sighed heavily and shook my head, putting my hand up to my forehead. “I can’t-“, he pushed the coat into my stomach making me queasier and took my face in his hand. Eyes in his, I sighed in defeat and took the jacket from him, slipping it on. With a smile, he bent down and grabbed the tips from my less-than-fashionable apron and shoved them in my right pocket. A small smile on my face turned into a full smile as I wrapped my arms around him, thanking him a million times. In reply he told me to get home.

The walk to the double doors leading into the eating area felt like miles. My chucks squeaking up to the door and when the door came up I shook my head and slowly pushed it open. The first place that my eyes went, were to the floor. Muffled male voices filling my head, I found myself stumbling through a few tables too concentrated on what they were saying to pay attention to where my legs took me.

Kicking a chair, I stopped and looked over to see the table of the boys, minus the chocolate haired boy that was the explanation to the killer migraine settled behind my eyes. Quickly bouncing back from the attack of the wooden chair, I kicked my walking speed into turbo and jetted through the rest of the aisles of tables. I just needed to get out of the front door, and I was home free. Michael, my stomach rumbled with disapproval for even thinking his name, was probably in the bathroom which simply meant I could leave this place without having to stealthy slink around him.

The front doors were in view. Taking a deep breath, I tried to settle down the anxiety running through my veins. I needed to get out of here, get home, and just sleep. Sleep off all of the thoughts jumbled up in my head, all of the questions, everything that had the smallest thing to do with Michael.

My hand hit the cold glass of the door, and it quickly relaxed me. Cold running up my arm, across my chest, and down my body, I shut my eyes and took a few steps outside letting the cold city air completely wash the anxiety out of my head. Sure, the pound of a killer migraine was still behind my eyes, but the tightness in my chest was gone.

“Taylor”, my eyes snapped open, and as they met cold brown ones, my body shut down and the urge to burst into tears ran wild through my body. “Taylor, can you just look at me a minute?” My eyes snapped open at his command. They connected with his automatically. His words resonated in my head, and sliced through my heart. The warm comfort his words used to give me was gone, and the only thing that lingered in his words was venom.

As we stared at each other, I took the time to examine him. His face was more mature, he was noticeably more muscular, but his eyes, were the same old big brown eyes that I unknowingly fell in love with sometime during our ten year friendship. When my eyes fell back on his, I noticed the pain and confusion that was drowning in his brown eyes that through that whole examination never left mine. “Michael”, was all I could manage to whisper as his eyes lit to fire, burning the emotions in his eyes.

“You just left everyone back home”, his snapped bitterly. “Steve and Lisa had no clue where you were. You just abandoned your friends completely? What made you think it was alright to do that!” Without thinking, I rolled my eyes and took a deep breath. My fists were clenched and I felt like punching him square in the face and walking home.

“Oh, like you left me after ten fucking years?” Silence swept over us. Michael’s eyes were still raging angry, but no words dripped form his mouth. Lips pressed tightly together, his eyes wouldn’t even meet mine. Those huge brown orbs were stuck on the cement ground, and as the seconds ticked by, he sighed and shook his head.

Finally, Michael’s eyes met mine, and he shook his head. “Are you ever going to get over that?” The annoying undertone in his voice caused my next reaction. Without making the huge wind up, throwing my arm behind my head, I slapped Michael right across the face. The sound of skin smacking skin echoed through the unusually quiet city air and when it faded, our eyes connected and everything gained volume.

Turning on my heels, I started walking away from him, the blood rushing through my veins raging with anger and regret. Sure, I may hate him right now, but not enough to realize that he was right. I should get over it. Our failed friendship is the past, and the way I left Steve and Lisa was horrible. But that was a while ago, back in the time when I realized that Michael Del Zotto was the only guy I really ever felt love for, and I chased him away because he was making something out of his life. Back then, I was too busy hating myself to understand I was hurting other people.

“No, wait”, the pound of his footsteps echoed behind me, and I prepared myself for him to turn me around. Preparing myself to face his eyes again, I took a deep breath and let him grab my wrist and pull me back toward him. For a split second, butterflies erupted in my stomach and the vision of him pulling me into a kiss warmed my body to the point where a bead of cold sweat dripped down the side of my face. When he let go of my right hand, I quickly squished it with my sleeve and looked up at him.

A cold city wind hit us causing us to move a little closer. Maybe a foot apart, I looked up at him to see him staring right back at me, he looked at me like I had never even slapped him in the face, which now I couldn’t believe I actually did. The moment was killed as the migraine came back to me full force, and I took a step back, pressing the bottom of my hand into my eye sockets, trying to relieve the pain. Michael whispered a few things that went over my head. The pulsing behind my eyes was reaching unbearable, and I need to get home and take my medicine before I started throwing up, or passed out. None of those seemed welcoming on a night like this.

Michael noticed my fatigue and placed his cold hand on my cheek, letting his thumb swirl in little circles over the stick patch on my cheek where salty tears collected. Shivering, I took a step away from him and shook my head. “I need to get home”, turning on my heels, I heard him sigh and quickly walk up next to me. As he tried to grab my attention with his eyes, I stopped and turned to him quickly. Shutting my eyes, allowing the wave of dizziness to pass, I cracked my right eye open and looked at him.

“We need to talk”, he noticed the anger on my face and quickly reworded his last sentence. “We need to catch up”, my stomach knotted in fright and some unknown emotion. As our eyes locked in a stare, I felt my head bob on my shoulders. Once it turned into a defined ‘yes’ nodding motion, my hand involuntarily dove into my left pocket and pulled out the small phone. Bringing it up to eye level, I flipped it open and looked back at Michael, who had a small smile placed on his lips. Looking at him, I felt myself smile a little. That was the Michael I used to know, that was the smile of the innocent, humble, hockey player I fell in love with.

Handing over my phone to him, he handed his sleek black touch screen phone to me and let me fend for myself. Thumb tapping against the screen, it lit up and presented me with a few little icons. Scanning over them, I found the small blue one with a phone on it and touched it. A screen popped up and I let my eyes scan around for something that would lead me to the screen to enter in a new number. After a minute, I rolled my eyes and looked up at Michael, who was staring at me, a playful smirk on his face. I did not return the smirk and angrily handed the phone back to him.

Without words, he clicked through a few things and handed the phone back over to me. Now, I understand this is odd, but I had absolutely no clue what to put in as the name. There was the obvious choice that Taylor should be the title, but it felt too formal. I knew this boy for ten years, and whenever we had each other’s phones, our phone number would not be linked to our birth name, instead it would be some idiotic nickname, or an odd smiley face or catch phrase. Never did Michael have me in his phone as ‘Taylor’, and putting it into his phone now only added to the depressing realization that we were acquaintances. We were not going to hang out, we were not going to lie on the bleachers under the stars, the most we would do was smile at each other, start small chit chat, and go on with our lives. For some this was okay, but being such good friends for so long, it hurt and was more a form of torture than just being friendly to an old chum.

As the silence lingered, and I was still unsure what to put as the name, I looked up at Michael and felt my cheeks grow hot. “What should I put as the name?”

Without even blinking or changing emotions in his eyes, he answered ‘Taylor’. For a minute, I thought he didn’t know why I asked, but when a frown formed on his lips, my mind convinced itself that he just experienced the same thought sequence I endured and he felt the same way.

Quickly typing in ‘Taylor’ and the rest of the information, I handed his phone back to him and grabbed mine. Shoving it into my pocket, I looked up at him and waited for him to start the end of our more-than-awkward meeting. Eye connected with his for maybe the fifth time tonight, I waited for him to say something. Internally, I was begging as the pain behind my eyes crept back to priority number one in my head.

“I should be getting back inside”, he said and let his eyes fall down to his feet. “Are you…?” Brown eyes meeting mine, I shook my head and watched him nod. “I’ll text you tomorrow after morning skate. Maybe we can grab some lunch?” It sounded so professional, so cliché. Lunch, we never went out for lunch. We went to the local Diner or some fast food restaurant. It may have been for lunch, but we never called it that. It was simple back then, “Want to get some food at the Diner?” Not formally inviting me to lunch.

My stomach knotted again and I nodded, trying to not show my mood which was slowly dipping more to the depressed side as our conversation grew less like us, the old us that I secretly wished we could get back, but knew was never going to be back. “I’ll talk to you later then”, we both looked at each other. My mind was playing out how warm my body would be if we hugged, but as soon as the shiver ran up my spine from the thought, we both muttered a ‘good-bye’ and turned on our heels. Without hesitation, we walked away from each other, and even though I was headed in the opposite direction I needed to go, I kept walking.

Cool wind clashed with my face and the result was a steady stream of tears. Not the normal emotional tears my eyes were so accustomed to making as of now, they were just tears from watery eyes and nothing more. The reunion with Michael was nothing like I had planned. At first, as his words sliced through me filled with venom, I believed that it was going to be the kind of reunion expected. The expected reunion was simple, hate, screaming, harsh words, and the all around conclusion to us never having anything to do with the other again. Although we took a three year absence from the others life, there was an overbearing idea, at least for me, that we would meet again.

Thoughts ran wild through my head as the huge apartment complex came into view. Would we actually become friends again? And from that question it branched into others. Would we be able to be friends again? Now that I know I had feeling for him, could I handle just being friends? Head pulsing yet again, I silenced my thoughts and listened into the calming slap of my feet against the concrete sidewalks. Step by step, inhale by exhale, the pound in my head evened into a bearable headache. It was stress; stress caused these migraines, and if I could relax myself enough by the time I got upstairs, I could just sleep it off and wake up tomorrow feeling fine and ready to ‘catch up’ with Michael.

One step into the building a vibration ran up my body alerting me that the cell phone in my pocket was going off. Sighing, my hand dove back into my pocket, grabbed the cold phone, and brought it out. Flipping it open, I checked the area around me, making sure there were no obstacles in the way of the elevator which was my destination. Path cleared, my eyes fell to the small screen of my phone. The first words they connected with were ‘Michael’.

Another sigh escaped my slightly parted lips, and I shook my head and went on to read the rest of the message. ‘Lunch tomorrow at the diner on 34th and 7th, we could meet there at one?’ Butterflies quickly flew into my stomach and started flapping their wings. The fuzzy feeling I got when I made dates with the opposite sex took over and a huge pearly white smile lit up on my face as I hit reply, and informed him that I would definitely be there. Once the message was sent, I shoved the phone back into my pocket and pressed the up arrow on the wall and shut my eyes.

Was it possible everything was going to go back to normal? Could Michael and I be good friends again? Sure, it might be a little more difficult presented the problem that he is a NHL player and travels every other day, but could we be just go back to the same two kids who could be with each other for days on end and not get sick of each other? We couldn’t but we could get pretty damn close. Even the thought of having my best friend back, or it could be the excitement of maybe trying to confess my love to him, made my eyes wider and a smile creep onto my face as the silver elevator doors opened.

The first step inside, I took a deep breath and reached over, pressing the five button on the button pad. As it lit up, I took a step back and leaned against the cold wall. Focusing as the doors shut in front of me, I felt my eyes lower until my eyelids covered my vision. Taking a deep breath, I relaxed against the back wall. It was over; the horrible torture of running into him again was over. We both knew the other existed, we had our first awkward conversation, it was over. Now we would be friends, if we saw each other, we’d talk, but other than that, I expected after “catching up” at the diner, we wouldn’t really see each other much more, that is unless him and those three boys decide to go to the restaurant on a daily basis.

The rings stopped at five and the squeak of the doors opening forced my eyelids to retract. Looking around, I started walking out of the box, when I reached the carpet; I shook my head, ran a hand through my hair, and squeezed my eyes shut. I may have been happy the awkward meeting was over, and I expected us to be friendly when we saw each other, make plans that would just fall through, but I didn’t want that. I wanted the old us back. Actually, I just wanted to let him know why everything happened the way it did.

A vibration ran through me again and I quickly reached into my pocket and grabbed my phone. Flipping it open, I quickly attached my eyes to his name. “Want me to just pick you up, it’ll be easier?” Stomach rumbling, I smiled and quickly walked over to my door. Once there, I texted him my address and a thank you, as soon as my thumb hit the send button, and the message was sent, I wanted to take it back.

I still wanted to meet up with him at the diner, but the car ride was going to be more than awkward. A good ten minutes together in a car sitting a few feet away from each other. Thoughts would be rushing through my head and there was a more than good chance that I was going to get a migraine, black out, and have to go back home. After that, there would be no other offer to catch up, his schedule would get tight, and if we did ever see each other again, it would be a simple smile and that would be it.

Walking into my apartment, I quickly flipped the light on and looked around at the cluttered apartment with paintings and drawings. A small pulse started behind my eyes as I realized that all of these paintings were going to be sitting in my apartment until it burned down, or I just threw them out. Sighing heavily, I peeled my jacket off and set it down on the couch. Kicking off my shoes and grabbing my cell phone, I stacked a few canvases off to the side, shuffled some papers together, and then walked into my bedroom. My phone vibrated again in my hand. Before I opened it, I flipped my bedroom light on and changed into a pair of sweats.

“Alright, I’ll pick you up at one, is that alright?” I quickly replied that it was perfect and I would see him tomorrow. Once the message was sent, I laid on my right side and shut my eyes pulling the comforter up to my chin. No more than five seconds later, as my eyes were about to hit stage two of sleep, my phone vibrated again. Instead of jumping to the phone, I grunted and flipped around so my back was facing the phone. Within the next five minutes, I was completely asleep.

The rest of the hours rolled by from two thirty, when I fell asleep, to eleven thirty when I woke up to the annoying vibration of my phone again. Vision blurry, and hair stuck to the side of my face, my back straightened as I sat up and looked over at the window. Sunshine was pouring into my window, and although I was still tired, I smiled and took in a deep breath of somewhat fresh apartment air.

Clock blinking 11:41, I rolled out of bed and stretched, allowing all of my bones to crack and my muscles to loosen up. The last time I was really up before two in the afternoon, was a while ago when I needed some major clothes shopping and the art ideas were flowing through my veins, which contributed me to stay up for three days straight. After that, I fell asleep for a good sixteen hours. Falling asleep when I got home from my shift, and waking up at six, just to take a shower and get ready to go work again. Out of those three days, I managed to get a bunch of paintings done, but it didn’t really matter, they were just collecting dust on my floor now.

With a heavy sigh, I grabbed a change of clothes, my cell phone, and my Ihome. Walking into the small bathroom, I turned my Ipod onto A Day to Remember and then turned it up loud enough so if I had the urge to sing, it would go undetected by the neighbors. Water turned on hot, I let it sit for a minute so the steam filled the room. Grabbing my phone, I flipped it open to a little screen informing me that I had four new text messages. The first one was from Michael, from last night.

“I really missed you” Butterflies entering my stomach; I bit down on the knuckle of my thumb and let out a smile. I clicked to the next message. “Sorry for bugging you, but I just wanted to let you know that my friend Matt’s tagging along tomorrow”, shrugging I sighed heavily and clicked ‘reply’. When the new box to type in came up, I was at a loss for words. Thinking about the catching up thing over some lunch was pictured as me and Michael sitting in a booth splitting a plate of cheese fries like we used to when we were younger. Not getting separate meals and talking over a cup of coffee.

With a weak smile, I text him back that it was no problem. Shutting the phone I peeled off my clothes and stepped into the steaming hot shower. As the hot water beat down on my back, I let out a small sigh and shut my eyes running my hand through my soaking wet hair. The steam filling my head, I let out a deep breath and felt my body loosen up.

Thoughts came and went through my head. Some of them made me want to stay in the shower, and the others made me want to hurry up and quickly get done. I thought about sitting down and talking to Michael, and I thought about how bad I was going to beat myself up for freaking out on him like I did. Looking back on it now, I felt absolutely horrible. Sure, he may have blew off a few plans with me, but he was just growing up, getting into bigger and better things, and I had no right to get mad at him for that. All of this was my fault.

Migraine present in my head, I quickly got changed into a tee shirt and a pair of sweats. Pulling out my hair dryer and strengthener, I plugged in them both and turned to the medicine cabinet. Pulling out the bottle of migraine pills the doctor ordered, I swallowed two dry and took a deep breath. Turning to grab the blow dryer, the cell phone on the corner of the counter started vibrating. Grabbing it before it fell off and hit the floor, I sighed heavily and noticed that it wasn’t just a text message this time.

Heart racing, I brought it to my ear and cleared my throat, “Hello?” I whispered opening it. There was a muffled voice and then Michael’s voice came through cheery and loud through the other end.

“Hey Tay”, my stomach twisted uncomfortably, “Are you almost ready?” Taking a deep breath I told him I would be done in a half hour tops. “Alright, we have another change of plans, Matt and Liz are going, if that’s alright with you?” He said and a few seconds with no response, he called out my name.

With a deep breath, I got up and walked into the little space I called a kitchen. Grabbing a bottle of water I shut the fridge and leaned back against it. “Yeah that’s fine, what is Liz Matt’s girlfriend or something?” The silence that consumed the other end of the phone was deadly. It was the silence that would make the quietest person want to scream on the top of their lungs. As the silence continued I found it harder to take a deep breath. Finally, as I inhaled deeply, not caring if he heard me, he cleared his throat.

“No, Liz is my girlfriend”, my hand pulled the phone away from my ear. Shutting my eyes tightly, I let out all of the air in my lungs and shook my head. I should have known this was going to happen. He was a good-looking nineteen year old in New York, the capital of fashion and models. She was probably gorgeous and skinny. Luckily my pills had kicked in and the migraine I was expecting never came. Instead I took a deep breath, accepted the fact that it was bound to happen and I was a fool for thinking that, I pressed the phone back to my ear.

“Alright, no problem, I need to get ready. Text me when you’re here, alright Mikey… Michael?” I snapped quickly catching myself. After a few seconds of silence, he coughed and his voice cracked. He told they were going to stop at Dunkin’ Donuts and then start to head over. Nodding, we bid each other goodbye and hung up. Sighing heavily, I slammed my phone down against the counter and looked up at myself in the mirror. Narrowing my eyes, I let out a heavy sigh.

It was simple what I had to do from here. Every girl in my position would be thinking and probably do the same thing. No matter what age or what their personality was. If they were going to go out, let’s say for lunch, with their old boyfriend, or for some best friend that they found out they had feelings for later on, they would try to look their best, even if they didn’t want to go back out with him again, just to add a little extra nudge just because they had a girlfriend.

I had a half hour to make myself look better than I ever have looked before.