It's Easier Than It Seems

Everything felt different as I stepped foot outside the airport. The aches of a long flight started to hit me like a nail hammering into my skull. But it was the air around me that made everything seem different.

It hit me like opening a hot oven. One minute I was thankful I had worn a coat, the next I was clammy and anxious. Between collecting my luggage and waiting for a cab the warmth of the sun had beaten me down and I sat impatiently awaiting my turn.

Not only had it been a lot warmer in San Francisco than in New York, it had smelt different, too. Both cities were surrounded by water, but for some reason San Francisco's air smelt fresher. You could almost taste the salt in the air; one would say you could smell a hint of fish—which was refreshing and disgusting all at the same time.

I knew in the five minutes I had been waiting that I was back. It felt like I could breath again—New York's air had been a lot thicker, a lot dirtier. The noise was different, too. Whilst the drawls of businessmen still played out behind me, it felt quieter. The pace was a lot smoother than that of Manhattan's.

Why had I left in the first place?

I knew from all the little details that I was home. I had escaped England and I couldn't settle there again—it was just too different. Pretty and green, sure. But it was far too slow for me. Whilst I had hated the pace of New York, I despised how slow my town in the UK moved.

When it was finally my turn for a cab I eyed up the driver as he slowly pulled up to me, giving him the look of 'you better stop for me, and me only'. He obeyed my commands and waited for me to drag my one suitcase into the trunk, he watched as I seemingly failed to lift up a light case, not bothering to help me out even when I shot him a look of desperation.

I was already hot and bothered, but now I was annoyed.

When I finally pushed it in, I shoved the trunk down in frustration and hopped into the back of the taxi. Blowing out a gust of breath to move my fringe out of my eyes I looked to the back of the driver's head. “730 Market Street, please,” was all I said to the man, who without a nod, or any inclination that he had paid attention, put his foot down on the pedal and took me to my destination without speaking a single word.

I paid the rude driver his money, and once again struggled in getting my suitcase out the back of the car. I thought I had packed light, but I don't think I understood the word 'light'.

Pulling the suitcase behind me, I walked along the boulevard, walking past the store aptly named 'Jerry's' a few times pacing back and forth. I caught a glance at myself in the window of a store and sighed. I looked like a mess.

First impressions would be dreadful; what on Earth would they think of me? Perhaps I could slip my CV onto the counter and run out of the store before they noticed me.

No, that was cowardly.

Instead I fixed my hair as best as I could and straightened out my jacket. It wasn't a huge improvement but I looked more presentable.

Finally I walked through the automatic doors into the store and looked around bewildered. I wondered about like a lost child in search of their mother until I finally found customer services that was lit up like a Christmas tree—how on Earth did I miss the big hanging lit up sign?

Walking over to the desk I saw two frumpy middle-aged women standing behind it looking glum. It was like the life behind their eyes had been drained out by the halogen lighting, or the countless times they had to say, “how can I help you?”

I plopped the envelope containing my CV onto the desk in front of them, and they slowly looked down to it. As if what I was delivering was some sort of secret document, they looked around the store suspiciously before they slowly drew their attention back to me with confusion painted across their faces.

“It's my CV... I was told to drop it off here,” I said, feeling like I had walked into the wrong store.

The blonde haired woman picked it up in her hands and nodded. “Okay... we'll get back to you soon,” She spoke, sounding unsure.

“Do you know when?” The sudden question had caught them off guard—customer's don't normally reply with a question like that.

“Uh,” The brunette hesitated. “Uhm, in a few weeks?”

I raised my brow in shock. “A few weeks?” I sighed. “Fine, okay, thank you,” I faked a smile and walked back out onto the boulevard which now felt sweltering compared to the air conditioning inside the store.

A few weeks.

I just had to pray my savings would cover the cost of living here without a job.

I waved down a cab, knowing I needed to see Billie now before anything else I needed to do in California. I could procrastinate and be as reluctant as I wanted to but I was on a timer—and it was better to tell him early before telling the truth was a lot harder. I couldn't just turn up on his door step with a baby.

As we drove through Oakland I noticed the sky turn dark, the clouds thickened, threatening to rain down onto the streets below. Was this a sign of bad things to come? I needed all the luck I could get.

The cab drive to his house was like a trip down memory lane. It wasn't too long ago—little over a month, but it felt like forever. I was stuck in the concrete jungle, missing the fresh sea breeze and slower paced life style, and because of that a month felt like a year.

The route the cab driver took meant we had to drive past my old house which stung like hell. I wonder who lived there now; were they treating the house alright?

I sighed heavily and looked to my hands rather than out the window. It was a lot easier.

Finally we pulled up to Billie's house, I paid the cab driver and hopped out the taxi, collecting my luggage from the boot of the car.

I was here.

I was finally going to see Billie and apologise, and perhaps even tell him I'm pregnant. Perhaps.

I walked up his driveway, my steps getting slower as I got closer to the house. This was killing me. My thighs felt like they had hands grasped around them, clinging on and dragging my body down with them. I felt like I weighed 100 stone and I had rocks tied to my ankles.

By the time I reached the steps to his door I couldn't move. I couldn't walk forward but I couldn't walk back either.

In one swift move I conquered Mount Everest and slammed my hand down on his doorbell. Finally, all of that travelling was over.

But the hardest part was to come.

I waited and waited for Billie to answer his door but to no avail. I had come all of this way and he could have been shopping for cereal for all I knew.

What a stupid idea.

I sighed heavily once again before turning my back on his door. There was no point in hanging around like a crazy stalker, plus I had a hotel booked that I hadn't even checked into yet.

But I hadn't come all this way to give up yet. What if he was in but he was just hiding from me? I walked back up the steps and gave the door a knock this time, and after a few minutes impatiently waiting I knocked again.

Maybe my first hunch was right; he was out somewhere.

I took my phone out of my pocket and gave Mike a call—Billie would most likely not answer my call after the last time we spoke.

“Hello?” He said, relief washing over me that he answered.

“Hey it's Jenni, do you know where Billie is?” I asked, pacing back and forth, biting my nails.

“I think he's home,” Mike replied to me, causing my pacing to stop abruptly as I looked to the door. “Why?”

“Oh, no reason, I have to go, thanks!” I shoved my phone into my pocket and tried the door handle. Weirdly the door wasn't locked and I let myself into Billie's house.

“Billie?” I called out, looking around the house. Nothing had changed since I was gone, not one thing was out of place. “Billie?” I called out again.

Why would he leave the door unlocked if he wasn't in?

“Billie?!” I started to fret, darting through each room till I reached the kitchen.

That's when I saw it.

I stopped in my tracks, my legs buckling from underneath me as my hands hit the floor. I shrieked out in hopes that someone would hear me and help, but in my panic I realised no noise had come out of my mouth—just a gasp.

Time slowed as I pulled myself forward over to Billie. He lay on the floor, eyes glazed over, but he was still warm. A small pool of blood had formed beneath the crest of his head, foam still present by his mouth.

Had he overdosed? Had his life really become that bad?

I grabbed Billie by the shoulders and hoisted him up, screeching out his name. I tried everything to get him to wake up before eventually sobbing into his chest.

I hadn't even checked his pulse.

Hazily looking up from his chest I sniffed, taking my left hand and shakily laying it over Billie's neck I kept it there in hopes I would feel a beat.

I did.

That little beat felt like the best thing in the world.

Although I could feel the beat I couldn't stop sobbing, but adrenaline finally pushed panic out of the way and allowed me to dial 911 and somehow manage to tell them to send help out.

When the paramedics arrived I was still cradling Billie in my arms, and at first I was reluctant to hand him over, until they told me they were here to help, not harm. I stepped back away from them, allowing them to do their work, to fix him.

I looked to my hands, out of my blurred vision all I could see were two red blobs. I choked back on my tears and went to wash my hands in Billie's sink, but my legs were like they were made out of rubber and I found myself grabbing onto the counter and being steadied by the second paramedic.

“Do you know what's happened, miss?” He asked.

I heard him but it didn't process in my brain, talking to a brick wall would have gained more of a response.

I felt like I was looking through a fish-eye lens, or perhaps like I was dreaming. I had hoped it was a dream.

“Ma'am?” He put his hand on my arm and I jumped a mile in shock. “Sorry... but are you okay? Do you know what happened?”

I shook my head slowly and blinked away more tears. I looked down to see the paramedic loading Billie onto a stretcher, his arm already full of wires. I gazed back to the paramedic unable to comprehend the situation. I opened my mouth a few times to reply but nothing connected. I was in total shock.

I felt numb, and on top of that I felt sick.

What if I had walked off to my hotel? He would have died.

He could still die.

I snapped back to reality and looked back to the paramedic. “Will he be alright?”

“He should be okay, I think we got to him in time,” He reassuringly replied.

“Think?” I cut in.

“We can't make any promises, ma'am,” He replied softly, trying not to upset me but failing miserably.

I narrowed my eyes at him, furious that he couldn't just tell me Billie was going to be okay. “Yes you can! You can tell me he will be fine and that's that.”

“I understa-”

“NO!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. “You don't!”

The paramedic sighed and looked away. “I'm sorry, ma'am. Do you want to ride in the ambulance with us to the hospital?”

I looked away from the paramedic back to where Billie was a second ago. He wasn't there... all that was left was a pool of blood. Was I really that out of it?

“Come on,” He encouraged, I just nodded and followed him in a dream like state.

Before I knew it, I was being nudged out of the ambulance by the paramedic—having not remembered any of the journey to the hospital I stepped out onto the path bewildered.

I followed the two paramedics and Billie through to the E.R, not taking any of my surroundings in at all. Everything sounded foggy, everything looked out of focus. I felt nervous, I was sweating, and I felt a burning pain in my stomach.

I sat down outside the room and put my head in my hands. Why was this happening to me?

I was a little too late. Any earlier and I could have convinced him he had the whole world to live for, and that he was stupid to consider taking his own life.

I called Mike, I called Tré, I even called his mother. I couldn't remember calling them, but apparently I did when they burst through the doors to join me in shock. They were joined by Billie's older sister Hollie, who was clutching into her mother.

“Thanks for calling us,” Ollie said. “It's so good to see you,” She sat down next to me and threw her arms around me and held on tight. “Thank God you were there to call the ambulance.”

“Yeah,” Mike agreed. “He'd be dead if it wasn't for you,” He seemed reluctant to agree with Ollie but managed a soft smile. “I'm sorry for being a dick.”

I stared up at him, my eyes red, my cheeks all puffed out, and my nose running like a tap. I didn't know what to feel, I couldn't even manage a smile back. My face probably contorted between looking pained and elated at the same time.

“Dear, go grab Jenni some wet tissue for her face would you?” She asked Tré, who just nodded and wandered off.

Was my face dirty? Had I got food on it?

Ollie looked down to my hands and sighed deeply. “Oh honey.”

Confusion spread across my face as I glanced down to my palms—they were stained with red. Blood.

My eyes widened in fear as I let out a quiet shriek. I scrunched up my hands and looked away from Ollie, but she turned my head back to hers and placed it on her shoulder. “Shush dear, it's okay now,” She rubbed my back slowly. “Everything's going to be alright.”

I finally felt something, I felt warm. I felt at unease but safe at the same time. Ollie was holding me like my mother would when I was scared and it made me feel like I was home.

I looked slowly up to her and smiled softly. “Thank you,” I finally spoke.

“No need to thank me, you're the hero,” She complimented me.

I lifted my head from her shoulder and shook it. “No, I'm no hero, I just did what anyone would do,” I said quietly and looked to everyone. “I'm going to get cleaned up, tell me if anything happens.”

“We will, I promise,” Ollie replied.

I walked down the corridor, pushing through two sets of doors before reaching the toilets. Tré bumped into me and apologised; he hadn't looked up so he had no clue who I was.

“It's only me,” I greeted.

He looked up to me with a tear stained face. “Oh... hey... sorry I took so long,” He apologised, handing me some wet tissue.

“It's okay, I'm gonna get cleaned up in the toilets anyway,” I replied, before there was an awkward silence where we didn't really know what to say to each other.

“Well, I should go back in case... you know, anything happened,” He told me, before hanging his head low and walking back towards the emergency room.

I sighed and pushed the door open to the female toilets, and walked over to the mirrors. I froze in terror; I had his blood smeared across my face.

I'm sure his mother appreciated that so much.

I washed my face and hands clean, scrubbing a little too hard to get it off and out of my mind, though it was something I would never forget.

I walked back through the doors into the waiting room but no one was there, I walked around a few other places but only saw the occasional nurse or doctor.

The only other place I hadn't looked was in Billie's room, but I was hesitant to even enter. Plucking up some courage I walked over to it, placed my hands on the cold doors and went to push, but was stopped by a female nurse walking over to me.

“Sorry only immediate family is allowed in there,” She said, a hint of authority in her voice. “I'm going to have to ask you to leave.”

My eyes widened. Was she kicking me out?

“He knows me, I'm not some crazy fan, so do me a favour and just let me in or I'll just walk in without your supposed permission,” I growled, pushing on the doors lightly before she grabbed onto the door's bars and pulled it forward.

“Do I need to call security?”

“Maybe, so they can haul your crazy ass over here because I AM immediate family,” I snapped, turning my head to look at her. I was not in the mood for conflict.

She sighed and put her hand onto her hip. “Okay, how?”

“How?” I asked. Surely one person outside my circle could know... right? “I'm pregnant with his baby, that's how.”

“What?” I heard a voice behind me say.

Shit.

I turned on my heel and stopped dead in my tracks. It was Tré. As if this day could get any better.

“Is it true?” He asked me.

I looked away, I couldn't buy myself out of this one, and I wasn't doing any favours prolonging my answer, and so I nodded in reply and looked back to him. “Yes, it's true.”

Tré looked to the nurse who looked between us in confusion. “You can let her in, it's okay, she was his girlfriend,” he explained, causing me to turn red.

All I kept thinking in my head was 'oh fuck he knows, he knows. HE KNOWS. He's going to tell everyone... he's going to tell Billie. Ah shit. '

“Tré you have to promise not to tell a soul, okay?! I mean it!” I panicked. “Please!” I begged, grabbing onto his arm. “And you,” I looked back to the nurse. “You too.”

Both agreed to promise not to tell anyone about the pregnancy, but I didn't know whether to trust them or not—especially the nurse. She could very well run to any tabloid and tell them, then the whole world would know before I could tell Billie the truth.

I sighed. “Good, thank you,” I let go of Tré's arm and looked back to the doors. “So can I go in?”

“Yes, sorry,” The nurse said timidly before leaving Tré and I alone. I remained quiet... what was I supposed to tell him?

I pushed through the doors to see Ollie and Hollie watching over Billie who was still unconscious, they were stroking his hair, encouraging him to wake up with kind words, but nothing was working.

The room made me feel uneasy. It's bright lights, smell of hospital food, and the beeping of the machines made it all too real. This wasn't a dream, I was actually here.

Outside I could hear the bickering of Mike and Tré, but I couldn't catch their conversation. They must have been concerned, it was their best friend after all. But then again, why would Billie try to kill himself with such a good support network? There was something that didn't add up, but right now it didn't matter.

I took a seat next to the bed, and watched Ollie and her daughter talk away about the silly things that Billie would do or say. It was comforting, but I wanted them to just stop. There was too much noise going on in my head and everything felt like it was tearing me apart.

The last time I got even the tiniest amount of stress in my life, it affected the baby. This time I hadn't felt any pain, and it was more worrying to not feel anything at all.

“Are you okay?” Ollie asked, pointing to my stomach. I looked down slowly to see myself rubbing it gently. “You feel sick, honey?”

My eyes widened and I immediately stopped myself. “Yeah,” I spoke quietly, nodding in return.

“The doctor said he'll be fine, he should wake soon,” She reassuringly said, looking back to her son. “He's a little fighter, annoying, but a fighter.”

I smiled at her joke but it didn't actually make me feel any better. I just wanted him to wake up and I just wanted to talk to him.

But where would I begin now?

I couldn't tell him about the baby, not whilst he was in this state. So what else would I talk about? The fact that I quit my job and that I was moving back, and now I might just be a sales assistant in a supermarket?

I'm sure he'd appreciate that conversation.

What about asking him why he was so stupid to take his own life, when other people rely on him? I mean... he has kids. Did he not think of them before he was so foolish?

I'm sure he'd appreciate all of my insults, too.

“What about Joey and Jakob?” I asked out of nowhere, looking to Ollie. “Do they know?”

Ollie shook her head. “No, and I don't plan on telling them. It wouldn't be fair on them, but Adrienne knows.”

“Oh,” Was all I managed to reply with, looking back to Billie. Please wake up.

Minutes past, then hours, then finally it was 3am in the morning before Billie began to stir. I was the only one awake as Hollie had gone home, and Ollie had fallen asleep in one of the chairs. I leant over to shake her awake, once she roused I pointed over to Billie who was just waking up.

I stood up slowly and glanced to him. Would he be happy to see my face? What if he overdosed because of me?

What if seeing my face would just make things worse?

Oh God... I'm the one that's caused all of this... aren't I?

“I shouldn't be here, Ollie,” I said, guilt in my voice, backing away slowly. But she grabbed my arm and forced me to stay put as Billie fully opened his eyes and slowly looked to us. His face held confusion and pain, with a little hint of panic.

“Hello baby,” Ollie smiled, walking over to his side and stroking his face. “Do you know what happened? Do you know why you're here?”

“I'll... uh... let the nurse know,” I stuttered, trying to buy myself out of meeting Billie face to face again.

“Look whose here,” She said, pointing towards me.

Great, now I have to stay.

Billie slowly looked from his mother to me, and then proceeded to stare at me for around twenty seconds. “...Jennifer?” He finally said, groggily.

I smiled lightly and nodded, feeling tears sting my eyes. “It's me.”

“...What are... what are you doing here?”He asked me, and then looked to his mother. “What am I doing here?”

“You overdosed Billie,” She replied sadly, rubbing Billie's arm softly. “But you're okay now, you're in good care.”

Billie let out a huge breath, his eyes welling up with tears. “I... overdosed?”

“Yeah,” She replied again. I looked between the two of them, feeling rather uncomfortable. “But you're going to get better now, aren't you?” She sounded condescending, like she was talking to a five year old, but I knew it was with good intentions.

Billie looked back to me, sadness spread across his face. My eyes widened as he waved me closer to the bed, I slowly walked over to him and put my hands on the metal bars surrounding his hospital bed. I remained quietly, unsure what to talk about without upsetting him further.

I let out a deep breath, I still felt shaken up and sick to my stomach. What wouldn't upset him, what would be best?

“Hi,” I finally managed to let out shakily. One word took so much courage, how would I get through a conversation?

Billie's lips formed a soft smile as he put his hand over mine. “Hey.”

I looked down to his warm hand touching mine and immediately smiled, for the first time in awhile I felt a glimmer of hope and happiness. Maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay, and I could stop being so anxious about everything, I could stop worrying.

I was back home.