The One That Got Away

Zacky tangles his fingers in my hair, and pulls me closer to him. He runs his tongue over my bottom lip, and I part my lips so our tongues can tangle together in synchronization. I throw my leg over his waist, and climb into his lap. I wrap my arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. His hand starts fumbling for the seat lever so he can push it back, and I smile against his lips. I reach down beside him and pull the lever in one swift movement, causing the driver’s seat to fly backwards.

He laughs, before pecking my lips once and looking into my eyes. “Are you excited about tomorrow?” He asks, and I bite my lip before I nod. “Your first tattoo.” He says grinning, and I smile. “And you’ll finally eighteen.” He adds, and I slap his chest playfully. “Sorry, we can’t all be born in December.” I say poking my tongue out at him.

Zacky’s eyes glance at the clock on the dashboard of his old Mustang, and sighs. “It’s so fucking late.” He mutters. I look over my shoulder at the clock 2:38. “I hope my parents aren’t up.” I mumble, and he smirks knowingly. “They aren’t up, you and I both know that.” He says, and I shrug. “I don’t know maybe they forgot their Nyquil tonight.” I propose, and he laughs. “Without that shit they would never get to sleep, babe.” He responds, before he leans in for another kiss.

“Hanna are you okay, baby?”

I look up at the sound of my name, and smile at my fiancée. “Yeah I’m fine.” I say, pulling down the sleeve on my long sleeved shirt to cover the tattoo from my past. He furrows his brows “Are you sure? You seem a little bit…distant.” He comments. “I’m fine, Mick.” I respond, and he lets out a breath. “Okay, well do you want a drink?” He asks. “I’m going to have a beer.” He adds, and I smile. “Sure, can I have some Jack?” I question.

“Of course, it’s your favorite.” He responds with a smile, before he heads into the kitchen.

“Shh, my parents are sleeping.” Zacky whispers, bringing a finger to his lips. I giggle and nod once. I can see him smile in the pale moonlight spilling through the windows in his kitchen, before he leans down in front of the sink. He pulls out a bottle of Jack Daniels out from under the sink and tucks it under his arm. He carefully closes the cabinet, before grabbing my hand and pulling me through the kitchen and living room. He walks out through the already open front door with me trailing behind him.

Zacky heads around to the side of the house, stopping in front of the ladder leaning against it. “Go.” He says, and I smile before I start the familiar climb up the ladder. When I make it onto the roof, I stand up and hold my arms out so I can regain my balance. I hear the ladder creaking as Zacky climbs up it, and I look over my shoulder and see him crawling towards me.

“Sit down, you’re going to fall and kill yourself.” He says laughing while he pats the spot on the roof next to him. I take a few steps towards him, and plop down onto the roof next to him. He takes a drink from the bottle of liquor, before offering it to me. I take it from his calloused hand and bring the bottle to my lips. The slight burn of the liquid running down my throat is as familiar as sitting on the roof with Zacky; it’s something we do almost every night. We steal his parent’s liquor and climb on the roof to talk about the future.

“I can’t believe it’s almost over.” Zacky mumbles, and I look at him. “What?” I ask, causing him to chuckle. “School.” He clarifies, and I nod. “I know. It’s…” I trail off, before I look at Zacky. “Crazy.” We say at the same time, causing us both to laugh. We launch into a comfortable silence, just passing the bottle of Jack back and forth until Zacky clears his throat.

“So have you thought any more about coming with us?” He asks, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye. “Why do I have to go? Why can’t you stay?” I mumble. Zacky looks at me in disbelief. “You know I’m not going to do that to the guys, the band means the world to us.” He says, his voice raising an octave. “I know Zacky.” I whisper, before I start rubbing at the fresh tattoo on my arm. “Don’t scratch it you’ll ruin it.” He mumbles, taking my hand in his and lacing our fingers together.

“Here’s your drink, Hanna.” Mick says brightly, handing me a crystal glass half full of a familiar amber liquid. “Thanks, babe.” I say sincerely, bringing the glass to my lips and downing half of it in one gulp. Mick chuckles “You know you’ve still never told me where you learned to drink like that.” He points out, and I laugh nervously. “They’re not important.” I respond softly.



“You’ll never guess who I saw the other day, Hanna.” I look up from my cup of coffee at my coworker, and raise an eyebrow. “Who?” I ask, and she leans across the table. “Zacky Baker.” Lucy whispers. I swallow hard, before shrugging. She looks at me in disbelief “That’s it?” She asks, sounding appalled. I shrug again, and she leans back in her seat.

“Well I think he got his tattoo removed—or covered.” She adds, and I lick over my lips. “Some things don’t last forever.” I say simply, and she shakes her head. “Hanna…” She trails off, and I ignore her and play with my engagement ring. Not even a million rings could replace him…I should have told him what he meant to me.

I down the rest of my coffee, before I stand up. “I’ve got to go, Lucy.” I mutter. I turn around and head towards the exit to the coffee shop, and when I make it to my car I unlock the doors and climb into the driver’s side. I slam the door shut, and grab a stack of CD’s from the floor. I fumble with them, trying to find the record I’m looking for.

I find it, and shove it into the CD player. Almost instantly a mix CD from what seems like an eternity ago starts playing, and I can feel a tear on my cheek. I only put this on when I miss him…

”Zacky.” I mutter, and he looks up from the notebook in front of him. “What?” He asks, only half paying attention to me; his hand still strumming the guitar on his lap. “Do you want to go do something?” I ask, and he shakes his head. “No I have to work on this song some more.” He responds, his gaze turning back to the notebook by his foot.

I pull my knees to my chest, and sigh softly. Lately all he ever does is play that fucking guitar and look at that stupid notebook. A moment later he curses, and throws his guitar pick down. He runs his fingers through his hair, a groan slipping out of his mouth. He composes himself, before he leans over and picks up his pick and goes back to playing.

I can feel anger building up in my chest, and I stand up and snatch the notebook off of the floor. He looks up at me, his facial expression surprised. “Can’t you take five fucking minutes to spend some time with me?” I exclaim, my tone breathless. “Hanna the song—

“I don’t give a fuck about the song!” I yell, ripping a few pages out of the notebook before I tear them in half. “What the hell?” He yells, standing up and grabbing my arm. His grip is vice-like, and I whimper in pain. He looks down at me, anger causing his pale green eyes to appear black. He takes the notebook from me, and grabs his guitar off the floor along with the scraps of notebook paper with his sloppy handwriting all over them.

After gathering up his things he looks at me and shakes his head, before he walks out the front door. A moment later I hear his mustang roar to life, and it peels out of the driveway. I scramble to my feet, and make it outside in time to see it turn the corner at the end of the street. My breath hitches in my throat, and I can feel a sob threatening to choke out of my chest.

I drum my fingers on the steering wheel, while I wait for the stoplight at the corner of Main Street and Beach Street to turn green. I nibble on my bottom lip while I listen to Guns N Roses play softly from the speakers in my car. When the light turns green I accelerate, and begin the drive down Main Street. I see a sign in the distance, and my chest tightens. Johnny’s Bar, I’ve had some of the best times of my life in that bar.

When I draw closer to the bar, I look at the front entrance and immediately slam on my brakes. A car horn blows from behind me, before a jeep swerves around me. I stare at the entrance to the bar at the familiar person. There is a cigarette dangling from their lips and a pair of sunglasses covering their light green eyes. My breathing quickens, and I throw my car in park.

I unbuckle my seatbelt and climb out of my car, not bothering to even pull into the parking lot of Johnny’s. My feet carry me across the parking lot, my eyes locked at the man standing on the other side of it. I step up onto the sidewalk, and watch the man as he drops his cigarette to the ground and stomps it out. He looks up and his eyebrows furrow together, before a small smile tugs at his lips.

“Hanna?” He asks unsurely. I stop in front of him, and look up at his handsome face. I open my mouth to say something, but I can’t seem to form a coherent sentence. I can’t believe it’s really him…I thought I would never see him again. He chuckles quietly, and a smile graces his features. “Do you know who I am?” He asks, pulling off his sunglasses to reveal the same eyes from all those years ago. I lick over my lips and nod once.

“You’re the one that got away.”