Relevance

“What is he doing here?”

“Oh, let it go, G!” Margie’s mouth was loosened by the alcohol. “You both need to quit being miserable.”

My breath quickened and my blood thickened. Should’ve stayed home, I cursed myself.

I grabbed my purse and stormed off the bar, in much need of the fresh air that awaited me outside. When I stepped out through the doors, it welcomed me with a soft breeze.

Closing my eyes, I stopped to feel it as it brushed my skin and ruffled my hair. I turned my focus to my rapid heartbeat, breathing in and out as slowly as I could, attempting to calm it down.

John’s melody still rang in my ears.

The unlock of the door was too loud to go by unnoticed in the silence of one a.m. I spun my head around and found John.

He let go of the door whilst I turned my head back around, being more interested in the vacant street than his face.

I was so mad at him. I wished I didn’t feel this way, but his presence sparked that feeling within me—I couldn’t stop reliving all our times together, trying to figure out which parts of him were true and which parts of me were written about.


He remained frozen in the spot behind me and his voice gave me goosebumps. “You didn’t give me a chance to apologise.”

“So you can write about it?” I murmured.

“Georgia,” his voice trailed off to a whisper, “don’t be like that.”

I twirled around in an act of fury. “What do you expect me to be like, John?!”

He ran a hand through his hair in desperation, with wild eyes and furrowed brows. “I am truly sorry.” He only took one step towards me as if testing the waters. My expression stayed solemn. “I’m sorry for making that stupid bet to begin with—trust me, I’m really sorry about that one. Things took a turn in a way I didn’t expect and this situation sucks, it fucking sucks.”

“You could’ve told me earlier, you know.” I bit my bottom lip as a thinking habit, contemplating his sincere eyes.

He sighed in frustration with himself, “I know, I know. There’s another dumb mistake you can add to the list. I should’ve—I wanted to! But it got to a point where I didn’t know how to.”

I nodded my head and my eyes trailed off to the pavement. I knew exactly how that entire should’ve ordeal played out. Thanks to Scott, I mastered that art.

John shoved his hands deep into his pockets as though he was unsure on what to do with them. He kept looking at me and his stare made me aware of each and every inch of my skin.

I mirrored him, warming up my hands inside my coat’s pocket. “I don’t really know how to get past this…”

“You don’t have to,” his eyes gleamed with hope. “I suppose an apology acceptance will suffice and I’ll, uh,” he shrugged, “I’ll be out of your way.”

I looked at him with an don’t-be-an-idiot expression, tilting my head to the side with a parted mouth that wished to unleash all kinds of words. Yet no sound came out. Picturing this as the last time I’d see John was something absurd to imagine.

“Are you going back home?” I asked even though I knew the answer already—I just wished me asking it could change his response.

“Yeah.”

Neither of us knew what to say. So we allowed the silence to engulf us.

My watch pointed to an ungodly hour and the exhaustion of the week downed on me. I sat on the side of the road and John joined me, our legs almost brushing.

I offered him a smile as an apology acceptance. “We had a good run.”

He rested his elbows on his bent knees and chuckled, “We sure did. Well, except the part where I was an ass.”

“It comes with the territory,” I said in between laughter. But it soon ceased, “I owe an apology to you too. You weren’t the only ass.”

“Absolutely not! I was—“

I gave him a warning eye, “I was! It’s just I—” I paused, unsure on how to word my thoughts. “I didn’t expect things to turn out the way they did. So I’ve been pretty much winging my way through life at this point.”

“Are things okay between you and Scott? We can always make another bet,” he smirked. “Too early to joke about it?”

I let out a laugh and found myself staring at his lips a second too long. Upon realisation, I rapidly shifted my eyes to my hands, feeling the blood rise to my cheeks. “It isn’t really how I envisioned things.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I cultivated this perfect world in my head for six years—Scott and I. And now that it’s here, it’s… nowhere near what I had in mind.”

The buzz of the alcohol left in my system made me incapable of controlling my now teary eyes. I held my head with a hand over my forehead. With closed eyes, I tried to find some peace in the darkness.

John was silent for a few heartbeats. “Hey,” he rested a hand on my knee, giving it a slight squeeze, “nobody’s plan turns out the way they thought it would.”

I turned my head to face him, smiling in mockery. “What are you talking about, Mr. Rockstar? I think your plans have turned out just fine.”

He let out a sarcastic, exaggerated laugh that seemed forced, “You have no idea.” We stirred in silence as a car drove past us, and it couldn’t have felt more comforting.

“When are you leaving?”

“In the morning.”

I felt a sunken feeling, making a mental note to beat myself up later for being mad at him for nearly a week and wasting existence.

“That’s soon,” I spoke through a breath.

When we both realised his hand was still on my knee, he retracted his hand in a swift movement, shoving it in between his legs. The absence of his warmth made my knee feel cold.

“We’re going south. California.”

I wanted to ask him to stay a while longer. So we could retrieve that wasted week. So I could get to know him for who he is as a whole. But my courage didn’t suffice. He had his own life to live. Not everybody’s life was as messy as mine.

“Was that song new?” I asked, hoping to get something out of him.

“Yeah, it’s not even really finished,” he chuckled at himself.

“It served its purpose,” I said, attempting to lighten up the mood. Whilst chuckling, I said, “I’ll make sure to use it whenever I need to apologise to people.”

John frowned so deeply, his eyebrows almost united. “What are you talking about?”

I took from his expression that my interpretation was extremely off. “Well, I—uh, I thought you used the song to convince me that you just wanted to talk to me to explain things out?”

With wide eyes and a mouth shaped like an ‘o’, he spoke, “Right!” His expression morphed into a smile. “Right,” he breathed out. “Uh, I better get going.” He jumped up and dusted the back of his jeans.

I followed his lead, my hair swaying and rustling. We stood up as though our stillness could prolong time.

“Don’t do this.” The words escaped before I could hold my tongue back.

John looked at me with a concoction of puzzle and intrigue.

I sighed. “I said I’d always be honest with you and, and this is me being honest. This might be me being selfish too but… stay a while?” I pleaded with twisted brows in anticipated disappointment in case he refused to do so. “You haven’t seen the skyline at sunset, or the coast and the annoying sounds of seagulls, or gotten drenched in water during rainy days—which are actually pretty much every day this time of year.” I took a sharp breath in, recuperating my breath from speaking far too quick. “There’s a lot of Seattle you haven’t seen yet!”

He hadn’t seen any of those things. He hadn’t done any of those things. He hadn’t experienced any of those things with me. Just as I hadn’t with him.

“I know I’m crazy to say this,” I laughed to myself, “we met a week ago. But, I don’t know, I guess you leaving right now just doesn’t seem right.”

I shut my mouth before I could be any more vulnerable. My eyes were glued to his and I forced my mind to stop thinking about what his reaction would be or else I’d go insane.

John’s silence made me even more anxious. His laser green eyes were fixated on mine and it was the only thing that moved—he seemed frozen.

I smiled with closed lips to gracefully accept rejection, lowering my gaze to my shoes in embarrassment. “Right,” I whispered. “It’s—“

Before I could utter another word, I felt hands cupping my cheeks and lips pressing against mine.