Strawberry Flavoured Regrets

I shouldn’t have been there. Fuck, I KNEW I shouldn’t have been there. But staring into those deep blue eyes, I knew for a fact that I just… I couldn’t say no to her.

“You still love me.”

I swallowed over the lump in my throat and leaned back against the wall behind me, shoving my hands into my pockets and refusing to look into those damned ice blue eyes. Refused to remember all those days I’d spent getting my hands tangled in that curly blonde hair. Refused to… remember. I just refused to remember.

“You don’t know that.” I had to stop for a second to almost smile at the fact that my voice hadn’t cracked the way I thought it would. I had to take my courage where I could find it, right?

“You still love me,” she said, smiling and running a hand through her hair. “Just admit it. You love me. You always will.”

“Emily, just get the hell—“

“Did you write her a song?” I stopped short at that comment, my hands twitching in my pockets. Taking that as leverage to keep going, she went on, “What were the lyrics again? ‘Cause there’s no one in this world like Emily…”

“You still can’t sing,” I scoffed, forcing the topic change. Anything to keep her from finishing the lyrics, anything to get her to just leave me the hell alone.

“So? You don’t care about that. Hell, you don’t give a shit about anything she does, just admit it— none of her bullshit hobbies interest you in the least,” Emily laughed and tossed her hair again, smiling up at me. “Just admit it. You love me.”

“Emily, stop it.”

“Just admit it,” she said, laughing and stepping closer. From the distance she was standing at, I could see all 26 freckles on the bridge of her nose, and I could remember the times I counted them, right down to where we were when I was counting. I could see how her hair fell down around her face, and I could remember how it felt between my fingers, and exactly what it smelt like every time it was there. I could see the curve of her lips, and remember exactly how the lip-gloss she wore every day to make those lips look thicker tasted. I could see the mascara and eyeliner and eye shadow she wore, and I could remember exactly how long it took her to put all of it on the night we were supposed to go out to dinner together. And, suddenly, I couldn’t stand to look at her anymore. “Your girlfriend can’t handle you the way I can.”

“Emily, don’t bring her into this— ever. She’s amazing, incredible, awesome—“

“—but she’s not the girl you want, and she’s not everything you need. Face it, baby, she’s not enough.”

“Emily, I don’t fucking love you!” It sounded good. It was probably the right thing to say, especially facing her.

Too bad my voice cracked.

“See, you do!” She laughed and jumped up and down, clapping a little as she did. “You do love me! You’re a terrible liar, you know that? So, come on, lover, what do you love about me?”

“Emily, just get the fuck away from me—“

“The way I look? The way I laugh? The way I smile?” She grinned and pressed up against me, making it painfully clear just how stupid it was of me to stand by a wall in the first place. “The way I feel? Or…” Standing up straight and brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, she whispered, “… the way I kiss?”

I didn’t notice what the hell was going on until Emily had her tongue half way down my throat, and her arms around my waist; and I can’t exactly tell you just when I put my arms around her and started kissing back. I can’t tell you why I did it, either.

But I can tell you exactly how it felt to realize that the door creaking open wasn’t my imagination, and it sure as hell wasn’t a janitor coming to clean the class early. But I can tell you exactly how Alice’s face looked over Emily’s shoulder when she turned on the lights. Do you want to know? Alright.

It looked like the time she’d seen a dog hit by a car, and then rushed out into the street to grab it, just to find out that it was already taking it’s last breathe. It looked like the time I caught her skipping class to wander around the school aimlessly because she’d gotten a call telling her that one of her best friends was currently in the hospital with a fractured spine and four broken ribs, and they were considering pulling the plug on his life support. It looked like the time I’d found her with a needle in her forearm, sitting in an alleyway a few blocks away from her house at three in the morning. Her jaw had dropped just a little, enough for her full lips to part just a bit, her eyes had opened a little wider, enough to arch her dark brows and highlight her high cheekbones. She looked like she was having some trouble breathing, because she was swaying a little, weaving back and forth with each breath. But just barely enough for me to notice.

Shoving Emily off of me and taking a step forward, I said desperately, “Alice, it’s not—“

“Please,” Alice said, voice calm and collected, as always, even as she compulsively stepped back with my step forward. “Don’t let me interrupt.”
“It’s not what you think—“

“So this is the girlfriend up close?” Because Emily always loved having the worst timing, she stepped forward from behind me and smiled, giggling from the sidelines.

“Ex,” Alice shrugged and shoved her hands in her jacket pockets, shouldering her bag and walking out the door without even a glance back. Or an official break up.

But I’m still not quite sure I would have wanted one anyway.

“She’s not the type of girl for you and you know it.”

I turned blank eyes on Emily, who came sharply into focus. Everything was moving in slow motion. Her small hands were moving her hair back behind her ear. Her blue eyes were narrowed and her lips were pursed from her trying to contain laughter. For the first time, I realized just how thin her hair was; was it always so thin and brittle? As her hair brushed my cheek, I had a painful flashback to lying in the school baseball field at eight at night with Alice, her thick, short brown hair brushing my neck and making me laugh. Blocking the memory out, I breathed deep, and was assaulted by vanilla. Emily still smelt like vanilla. Almost like being punched in the stomach, another memory of Alice came back and stole the breath from my lungs. The time she’d laid her head in my lap when we were sitting in the staircase at school, and all I could smell was cinnamon; everywhere we went, every time I saw her, every time I thought about her, all I could ever smell was cinnamon. When did vanilla become so overpowering— and, for that matter, when did cinnamon start to smell like home? Shaking my head and begging God and every other force out there to please just take the memories away, Emily tugged my head down to her eye level and winked in that seductive way that had always made me ache… I used to think that Emily had beautiful blue eyes— had they always been so shallow and cold, like a freaking frozen puddle? I regretted the internal question instantly, however, when I flashed back to the first time that I’d met Alice. It was after school, and she’d just gotten out of the pool and had been running to go meet her friends— instead, she ran into me. She’d had to look up to apologize, pushing her drenched and dripping hair out of her big, brown, amazingly warm eyes at the same time. The first thing I’d thought, even before registering how she’d just ran into me, was the fact that, if eyes were windows to the soul, then God, the girl was a fucking shelter in this blizzard. Emily pulled me out of my trip down memory lane when she pushed her mouth onto mine and finished what she’d started five minutes ago. I tried to kiss back— Jesus, why was it so hard now? A small voice in the back of my head slammed itself against my conscience and told me exactly why:

Everything was just… wrong.

Emily tasted like too much mint gum, her hard, bony body making me forget to feel her thin lips parted on mine, or her hand undoing my belt. Instead of keeping me out of all my memories, Emily successfully shoved me back into them, back into the times when things had been right. Those times when Alice had tasted like strawberries and chocolate, and felt warm and full and soft, regardless of her size. Those times when Alice had made me shake with that kiss on the cheek, then grabbed my hand to stop the shaking, chewing on her full lips as she thought something over.

Pushing Emily off of me and forgetting everything she said as soon as she said it, I walked numbly to the door, doing up my pants as I went. If things were wrong, wasn’t the only way to fix them by finding the person who could make them right?

Emily’s shrill laugh cut to the bone. Turning to look at her, I realized the world was starting to spin. Emily was perched on a desk, reapplying her lip-gloss and running her fingers through her hair. “Shut the hell up, Emily.”

Emily raised an eyebrow at me over her compact. “I’m sorry,” she said, voice dripping sarcasm. “Were you planning on finding her, was that it? Begging for forgiveness? She’s not going to take you back, stupid ass.” Another shrill bark of laughter that, once again, brought me back to how much I used to love Alice’s soul-deep, genuine laugh.

“She might,” Uncertainty was already starting to sink in, but I couldn’t be around Emily even a second longer. Turning back to the door and walking out, the last thing I heard before I let the door click shut was Emily’s shrill, cold laugh.

God, I’d honestly missed that?

I must have walked through those hallways for hours looking for Alice— or, at least, it felt like hours until I’d finally pushed through the front doors and almost stepped out onto the lawn. Then, finally, I heard it. That little sniffling sound that I had committed to memory. Alice. Alice only did that when she was trying not to cry.

Or when she had been crying for a long, long time, and had just finished.

Turning on my heel and skimming around the corner, I almost called her name when I saw her dark, short, tousled hair, face buried in her friend’s chest. One arm around her waist, the other patting her softly on the back, the boy was whispering something in her ear, trying to stop her shivering. I have no idea how long I stood there, but I was pulled roughly back to reality when the boy Alice was with looked up— straight at me. Locking his eyes with mine, all the sympathy and warm that had been in them while comforting Alice disappeared; suddenly, the boy’s entire disposition changed. Jerking his head stiffly and being careful not to disturb Alice, who was still clinging to his chest, the boy stared me down.

And, suddenly, I knew for a fact those memories were going to haunt me for the rest of my life.