Place In My Heart

He sat at the table. Their table. Twiddling the menu he knew fairly well between his fingertips. But he couldn't ignore how his palms were sweating uncontrollably, no matter how many times he paused in the aforementioned activity to wipe the moisture on the material of his tight black jeans. He also stared out of the slightly grubby window of the local cafe, waiting to catch a glimpse of who he was waiting for. Someone that wasn't familiar- not to the same degree she used to be.

He knew some things wouldn't change, however, and it was what he relied on. Since the Sun was strong by English standards, she would be in a summer dress. The article of clothing clinging to her perfectly and he remembered her saying how she could only feel slightly pretty in the beautiful fabric of the flirty clothes. How he commented back saying material wasn't necessary, or how they both blushed awkwardly about how it sounded. He knew her hair would always be the same shade of ash blonde, as she refused to colour it like every other female in their area. Yet he could bet on how she still would have killed the soft waves with strengtheners despite him stating his preference so many times.

He also knew what his reaction would be when the small bell above the door sounded and she was standing there. His prediction wasn't wrong. About any of it. His stomach clenched in a disgustingly nauseating fashion at how she took his breath away. He stood, ready to greet her, but he didn't know how.

Their eyes didn't move from each others as she softly walked across the floor, her blue eyes were bright with happiness. There was even a hint of that smile she reserved for him on her peach lips. It wasn't really there, only a shadow. And as she was stood directly in front of him, raising onto the balls of her feet, those rosebud lips landed high on his cheek. Rather than his own, like he wanted.

"George, I'm so glad to see you." she said in his ear as she wrapped her arms round his waist into a hug. No longer did they circle tightly round his neck, and his didn't squeeze her closer to him.

"It's good to see you Kiley." he said into her hair, trying hard not to inhale or to at least make it discreet.

She was the first to pull against the embrace, she used to hold on. She fell into the seat opposite the one he had already retaken. Her left hand reached out to the salt shaker, pouring a heap onto the table and started to guide the grains into different patterns with her left forefinger. He watched intently, recalling how he used to ignore it and take her creativity for granted. Her right hand remained clenched tightly around the shaker, but she used to put it down and leave it open for him to slip his over the top.

They didn't hold hands anymore, but his was twitching on the surface to stretch closer to her and make her take it. Instead, he opted that sitting on it would be the best way to prevent it. Sitting on both was for extra security.

“So how was the tour?” she asked politely, clearly not wanting to dwell on the topic by the tone of her voice and how she kept her line of vision down.

It was however, the largest proportion of his life now. It was everything he lived for, that cost him the person he loved. She was allowed to be bitter; he didn’t blame her for wanting to be brief with the subject. He led the rock ‘n’ roll lifestyle, and they both knew he wouldn’t give it up for her. It would have been foolish for him to discard his future at the age of seventeen for his school sweetheart. She wouldn’t have suggested though, instead she did what was best for them both. Even if that required destroying her own heart in the process. Songs written for her, playing quietly through her speakers would never be a good enough substitute for him talking softly in her ear.

“Amazing,” he settled on the perfect word “it’s so much easier as well now.”

He regretted the addition that flew from his mouth the second the words rolled off his tongue. He waited for her to misread his poor sentence, and twist the meaning into something that would provoke her to get up and leave. His hands balled into fists beneath his thighs, pushing his nails into his skin. He couldn’t care about how ridiculous his position would appear to anybody that passed. Not while he waited for her response.

Her jaw muscles had tightened, showing that she had her teeth ground together and her hand was floating in mid motion of prodding some salt off the table and onto the cheap linoleum floor. It reminded him of the pained expression she wore after she put an end to their 1 year, 4 months and 19 days relationship. How she went from that, to looking up with tears glistening in her brown eyes before she said firmly: “I don’t want this to alter how we were.” To which, he felt so inclined to answer with “It’s cool, we can still be friends.”

How his reply haunted him every night he lay in his bunk with Jack below him, breathing heavy in his almost comatose state. When he sometimes scrolled down through his contacts to her name, hitting the green button. He only ever reached her machine. They say it is the biggest lie during break-ups, how it’s completely impossible to have a platonic relationship with someone whose skin you used to caress with such endearment with sweat still fresh and bodies tangled in bed sheets.

He thought it could be achievable, as they were nothing more than friend’s years more than they were something. Being on a bus, travelling through cities far away from where she was should have also been a bonus to it. For her, it was. She was able to leave her love for him shut in the box of their memories, stowed in the darkest corner of her wardrobe.

“I meant without having to adjust round school anymore, cause you know that was a pain while exams were on and having to be in attendance and all that shit.” He said hastily, wanting to correct himself.

He didn’t hear what she had to say in reply, as the waitress appeared by the side of them. Snapping chewing gum between her teeth as she stood with pencil ready to scribble down their order. Her bored eyes fell onto him, as he quickly placed his hands on the table. That sly smile crept onto her face as she managed to place in her mind where she knew him from.

“George Craig, well what do you know? I never thought you’d amount to anythin’ in that band of yours when I saw you during Geography lessons.” She had now changed tactics to batting her false eyelashes.

“Clearly you were the one that achieved wonders, Stephanie.” He said with a smirk as his eyes flicked over the grease stained apron.

It subdued her immensely to be put down so greatly, making her take their drinks orders in a fluster before storming off to moan a horrendous amount to whichever co-worker would listen. Leaving them perfectly alone and him once again with the memories of how he would lean over once the waitress had turned to craftily steal a kiss from the only girl he’d want to be opposite.

Upon returning his attention back to her, his heart fluttered at how she was laughing silently to what had just happened. Under the table, she unfolded her legs to readjust herself so her sides wouldn’t ache from the hysterics she was trying to hide. Accidently brushing against him in the process, making the heat rise in his cheeks.

“Sorry.” She mumbled, abruptly putting a finish to her amusement as she noticed his involuntary response to a small movement.

“So erm, how is everyone here?” he sharply moved onto a distraction that would hopefully lead to something normal.

And it worked for Kiley. Her speech became animated with gestures as she spoke so brightly about all the past friends he had also left behind in his trail and new people she was acquainted with. Those being the ones he was extra attentive with. Gut wrenching every time he heard a male name he wasn’t familiar with. Particularly one named Dale, who she had so far mentioned five times within the length of time she had been talking for.

Their drinks were placed down, and he stared at the black coffee in front of him. Wishing miraculously a strong whiskey had been slipped in there for him already as he listened to how she was planning on moving out of her parents house within the next month and how Dale offered to provide a roof over her head if she wanted it.

He ripped open a packet of sugar with a little too much force behind it as she flippantly slipped in how she thought that’d be a wonderful opportunity to take as he would be a simply charming room mate. He knew the jealousy that had erupted in his stomach wasn't healthy, or something he should be feeling towards the girl he wanted to be over.

He ran his fingers quickly through his curly, styled perfectly hair. Picked up the untouched coffee cup and took a searing gulp of the boiling liquid. Resting it down and watching her again. How the light bounced across her hair, highlighting also her beautiful features. Her teeth shining in a smile he knew he couldn't cause anymore.

The chair legs scrapped horribly against the floor, as he pushed himself away. From his pocket he fished out a £5 note, throwing it down in the middle of the table as he stood up sharply. She had stopped, mid-sentence, eyes showing how stunned she was by his sudden actions.

"What's going on George?"

"I can't do this." he told her, before walking uneasily towards the door. Stopping as he placed his hand on the rusting handle to look back over his shoulder. At Kiley Townsen for what he hoped would be the last time with love in heart.