Haunted

“So what do you think of Leven?” Xander asked, once she had gone.
“Oh she’s lovely,” I lied. Isabelle gave me a look; she could read me like an open book.
“That’s good, what about the rest of them?”
“Yeah, Josh is hilarious and I think I’m in love with Amandla.”
“Ohmigod, I know, you wouldn’t think she was fourteen would you.”
“Yeah.” Despite my prayers against it, we reached Isabelle’s far too soon. Xander followed us in and immediately helped himself to some ice-cream, eating it straight out the tub. As much as I loved Xander and Isabelle, I was totally jealous of their friendship. It was like they’d known each other their whole lives. They acted like brother and sister. “Clearly you two need to talk so I’ll be upstairs if you need me,” Isabelle mumbled, winking at Xander. He gave her a quizzical look and she shrugged. There was another perfect example of Isabelle’s ability to sense things – it’s like she was a goddamn psychic. I was grateful though so I didn’t complain. “Oh, and keep your hands outta my fridge!” she called down the stairs.
“Whatever bitch,” he yelled back jokingly. We stood in silence for what seemed like forever.
“So we have to talk huh,” he laughed.
“I think I’m gonna go back to Liam,” I burst out. What the fuck was I talking about? Where had that come from? I felt my cheeks go red, looking down at the ground so Xander couldn’t see.
“You’re fucking with me?” he asked calmly, half statement, half question. I didn’t even know where it had come from, let alone if I meant it. It was one of those moments where I wished the ground would swallow me up. But then I wondered how much did Xander care about me? How would he react?
“I’m serious.”
“No Danni.”
“Why not? Liam’s not like this, maybe something’s bothering him. I just need to talk to him and then he’ll stop.” This wasn’t completely a lie. Having said it out loud, I realised I still had feelings for him. What I felt for Xander was probably just the after-effect of everything that had happened with Liam. It wasn’t Xander I needed after all, it was my messed up mind’s back to front way of telling me I missed Liam.
“Can’t you see what he’s doing to you? He’s manipulated you into thinking you need him. You don’t Danni, you’re so much better than him.” What? So I was too good for Liam yet not good enough for Xander. “He doesn’t love you.” He paused. “That sounds horrible but he’s got you thinking you can’t live without him but that’s not true, you can do so much better.”
“Oh yeah, cos I’ve got so many guy friends that are dying to take me out.”
“You would if that dipshit would actually let you out anywhere.” He wrapped his arms around me and we stood for a minute. “Please Danni, trust me on this one.” I didn’t say anything. He rested his hands on my shoulders and held me at arm’s length away. “You’re beautiful; you can get anyone you want. I have to go but I love you, and if you need me, you know where I am.” I nodded half-heartedly.
“I love you too.”
“Bye Is!” he yelled, as he slammed the door.
“Are you okay?” Isabelle asked, as she came back into the room.
“Yeah.”
“So…what happened?” I quickly filled her in, and she agreed that I shouldn’t go back to Liam so I decided to forget about him for a while. It seemed impossible but I’d survived a week without Liam, why not longer?

Just hours later and it was already proving impossible. I reached out for my phone to check the time: 3:30am. Great, I’d wasted four and a half hours drifting in and out of consciousness. I had too much in my head to sleep anyway: disturbed thoughts, jumbled emotions mixed with pain and anger and confusion and upset. I wanted Xander but I needed Liam. Or was it the other way round? The only thing I was sure of was that I couldn’t do things on my own. You’d think I’d of gone numb of emotion by now. That had happened once before – it was about a month after Ryan died, when my relationship with Ryan’s dad crumbled and I felt I had lost the only remaining thing that connected me to Ryan. Now though, that relieving, almost pleasurable feeling of numbness was not present. Instead there was frustration and confusion and tears. What was the point of anything anymore? It just wasn’t worth it. I hated crying; it made me feel like such a failure. I’m twenty years old for God’s sake; I should be able to look after myself. Of course, there was that reoccurring wonder of what could have been, what would have happened if Ryan hadn’t died. Would I be happy? Almost certainly. Would I be married by now? Most probably. No matter how much ‘wondering’ I did, it wouldn’t change anything. I was a nothing, wanting someone who was everything. And no one that had everything would give it up for nothing.