I Love You to Death Read online

  But then he smiled at me, lent down and kissed me again before he said, "Too soon?"

  "No, not too soon," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "Not if it’s true."

  As his hand brushed my hair back, Sam said to me, "Yeah it’s true Ash. I love you."

  Sam didn’t get to class that morning after all. When I said the same words back to him, we kind of had other things on our mind.

  Threes; they can be evil, charms, wishes or simply the basis for harmony in music

  ∞

  Playlist:

  1. Bittersweet symphony – The Verve

  2. Count on me – Bruno Mars

  3. Make it without you – Andrew Belle

  ∞

  I’ve always hated situations where I’m not going to know anyone. It’s why I couldn’t go to Nate’s wake and it’s why I never really made any friends. I don’t know why I can’t do it, but I just find it difficult. Difficult to talk to people, even before all of this other crap started.

  Because of this, I’ve been called aloof, a bitch and much worse. To be honest, I no longer care. What I really am is incredibly shy, but it doesn’t matter anymore. Now it just makes my life simpler, because people find it easier to ignore me when they have this opinion of me. It’s better for everyone that I’m seen like this because then there’s less chance they’ll get to know me and less chance they’ll end up dead.

  ∞

  I don’t know what to do about Luke’s party. We aren’t friends, not by a long stretch, but I know he’s going to keep asking me to come along. He’s already mentioned it three more times since he sent that email inviting me. It’s not that I don’t like him; that has nothing to do with it. There’s definitely something about him that intrigues me. It’s hard to put my finger on exactly what it is, he’s different to what I expected.

  The problem is, these days I know it’s a dangerous thing for someone to get to know me, to want to know me. Even though we aren’t actually friends yet, it will happen eventually and then everything will change.

  After the cut hand, the dead fish and the phone incident, Luke and I have been circling, like sharks. By day I avoid him, but by night he emails me. A lot. Most of the time, I find myself emailing him back. It’s a lot easier when neither of us is face to face and to be honest it’s nice to have someone to talk to again. He must know something’s wrong with me, yet he still keeps talking to me. And that’s what has me confused, why does he? None of the stuff we talk about is very serious, I mean it’s hard to work out exactly what we could possibly have in common anyway, but he talks to me, for some unknown reason he talks to me.

  But then, when we see each other at work, I still find it all pretty awkward. After everything that’s happened I feel too exposed, because he’s seen a part of the real me that I usually manage to keep hidden. I know it’s more than that; it’s that when he saw it, he didn’t run away. If anything, it’s only encouraged him, because now he seems to see a lot more, or wants to anyway. This makes me feel very nervous.

  His party is this weekend and I still don’t know whether I’m going. I haven’t been to a party in months, not since Sam was alive and it makes me feel a little sick at the thought of walking into one now, especially where I won’t know anyone. In any case I don’t actually know where Luke lives, so that may solve my problem. Of course I could just ask him, but that would be too easy.

  On Saturday however, when I come to work, my problem is invariably solved. Today there is a post-it note stuck on my coffee machine. All it says is;

  3/303 Huntington Ave

  8pm

  I guess this is where he lives. I take the note off and put it in my pocket. I make Luke his coffee and take it out to him.

  "Hey, thanks Ash," he says when I put it down. "So you’re coming tonight right?"

  I look at him. He has a face of expectation, almost like a little kid who thinks he’s getting something he’s been asking about for ages. It’s almost enough to make me smile, almost.

  "I’ll try," is all I can promise.

  "Well I hope to see you there," he says as I turn and walk out to the front.

  There’s a small part of me that almost wants to go. Like I said, I have nothing against Luke. In fact he’s been nothing but nice to me since I came back to work. He doesn’t ask me questions about what happened with Sam and he doesn’t force me to talk. By emailing me, it’s almost like he knows I prefer the removed contact, like he knows it’s the only thing I can cope with right now. There is the whole staring at me thing, which he does an awful lot, but as much as it makes me uncomfortable, there are worse things than having someone like him staring at you.

  Which I guess brings me to the obvious problem. The one I can’t help but notice and definitely can’t ignore. He is good looking, really good looking. And yes if I’m being honest, then I’m probably in some small way, attracted to him. There’s no denying it, I’m only human and like all women, I can certainly appreciate an attractive guy when he walks in the room. They’re nice to look at and of course it’s always flattering when they pay attention to you. For me though, that just brings a whole host of problems with it.

  He’s a lot taller than me, a lot taller than Sam was too. Not that I’m comparing them, I mean they look nothing alike, but it’s hard not to notice that difference. He has dark hair, which he keeps shaved very close to his head. He’s not bald; his hair is just very short. He comes to work in jeans and various different t-shirts featuring bands or some other logo and every morning he changes into a chef’s outfit. Both options work for him. I mean he just looks really good, period. Without even trying, he looks good and I suspect he would also look good if those clothes weren’t on him at all. He also has a great smile. One that lights up his whole face and makes it very hard for you not to just smile back at him. I think it’s part of why him staring at me and smiling so much is making me feel so nervous. I just don’t feel comfortable with that level of attention, regardless of who it’s from. It all feels too intense and it scares me.

  For the rest of the day, Luke and I don’t really speak. At least not about anything that isn’t work related. But just as he’s leaving he comes and finds me. I look up when I hear him say my name.

  "Yeah?"

  He smiles at me again. "Tonight, it’s no big deal okay, but I’d really like it if you came along, just to, you know, hang out."

  I’m standing here looking at him. He has that expectant look on his face again and between that and the smile, I’m almost convinced. "Can I bring anything then?" I ask, still not really committing.

  His smile gets bigger as he says, "Just yourself," before turning and walking out.

  "Okay," I answer too late.

  I guess this means I’m going then.

  ∞

  Sam never liked Liam. I don’t particularly like Liam either but I can work with him, ignore him and not really worry about him. Sam on the other hand, he hated him, but I actually found it kind of sweet when I found out why.

  "I don’t like the way he looks at you Ash," he would say when I first asked why he’d decided to start picking me up from work every day.

  I laughed and said, "What?"

  "Liam; he looks at you like he forgets you have a boyfriend and I just want to remind him that you do." Sam said, completely serious.

  I laughed again. "So what, this is some kind of macho, alpha possessive thing? You’re asserting your dominance to him?"

  "Yeah I am," Sam replied, pulling me into a hug. "You belong to me, only me and I want him to know that," he continued before kissing me.

  I pinched him as I jokingly said, "Yours huh, you think you own me?"

  Sam smiled as he whispered, "No it’s really you who owns me Ash. My heart, it belongs to you and only you. I just want him to know that."

  I laughed before kissing him and saying, "I promise you have nothing to worry about Sam, Liam’s harmless. Just ignore him, it’s what I do."

  Sam still continued to pick me up after
work, but I actually didn’t mind that he did. I kind of liked the idea that he was letting the world know we were together, and I really liked the idea that his heart was mine to keep.

  Because he had stolen mine ages ago.

  ∞

  I get to Luke’s place around 9pm. I want to make sure I’m not the first person there, but when I arrive and see the place is full, I suddenly wish I’d been here earlier. I don’t want to have to try and fit in with these people who clearly all know each other. I’m heading into the kitchen when Luke finds me.

  "Hey Ash, you made it! Can I get you a beer?" he asks. He’s smiling at me and actually looks happy to see me here.

  "Ah sure, thanks, that’d be great." I’ve already had a couple at home, trying to settle my nerves at the idea of walking into this party alone.

  He grabs two, handing one to me, before leaning back against the counter with the other. The whole scene is so eerily reminiscent of my first meeting with Sam, that I briefly close my eyes, blocking the image that’s formed in front of me. Maybe I shouldn’t have come after all.

  "Are you okay Ash?" Luke asks.

  I open my eyes to find him looking at me, a concerned expression on his face now. It’s that same question again, the one he always seems to ask me. I must look like a total basket case to him, I have no idea why he bothers talking to me.

  "Yeah I’m okay Luke, thanks," I reply, trying to smile at him.

  "You want me to introduce you to my flatmate?" he asks.

  I take a sip of my beer. "Um, maybe later."

  Luke smiles at me. "Sure," he says, leaning against the counter sipping his beer and still watching me.

  I have to change this. I move and lean against the counter beside him, probably not the best idea, but I just have to change it. There’s about a foot of space between us, but it feels much smaller.

  Luke looks down at me. "Not really into big parties then?"

  Is it that obvious? "Mmmm, not really into situations where I don’t know anyone," I say surprising myself.

  He half laughs. "Yeah I know what you mean. The party was Jared’s idea really, not mine."

  I look sideways at Luke. He’s staring out of the kitchen into the living room now, like he’s trying to work out what all of these people are doing in his house. I wonder if he truly doesn’t want them here, if he’s just being accommodating to them and his flatmate.

  We don’t say anything more, both of us just watching the people as they talk, laugh and interact with each other. I try to imagine if he feels like he’s watching it all from the outside, like I do. I wonder if he also feels like an observer in his own life. But I can’t possibly ask him, so instead I finish my beer which catches up with the ones I’ve already had at home.

  "Bathroom?" I ask.

  He turns back to me, a small smile on his face now. "I’ll show you where it is. Thanks for coming by the way."

  I actually smile back at him. Somehow he makes this easier.

  I’m in the bathroom when it happens.

  "Ash, how you doing? Man, you look really good tonight."

  Liam, shit.

  "I’m fine thanks," I answer without looking, concentrating instead on just washing my hands.

  "So ah Ash, do you wanna maybe go out sometime?" he asks in a voice full of confidence, but nothing sincere.

  I stop washing my hands but refuse to turn around. I don’t want to look at him, especially now. I’ve never liked him even if he was harmless, but right now this feels very different. He’s never done anything like this before. Yes, he made some stupid comments to rile me up when he knew Sam wasn’t around, but nothing like this. I don’t understand why he thinks he can do this. He knows what happened to Sam, so why is he doing this to me now. Was he always just waiting?

  "No Liam," I finally say. "I don’t think that would be a good idea."

  He says nothing more, but suddenly I know he’s standing right behind me. I can feel his breath on the back of my neck. It is hot and makes me feel sick. I don’t want him this close to me. I look up and see his reflection in the mirror, staring at me.

  "Ash," he says, a smile on his face. "Come on, it’ll be fun, I promise."

  I turn now and face him. "No Liam, I really don’t think so."

  I watch as his eyes widen. I watch as the confidence falls from his face. I watch as anger replaces it, and I suddenly realise just how close he is when he spits out, "Why Ash, I’m not good enough, not good enough for you. Not like Sam?"

  I flinch at the words. I’m boxed in, trapped against the sink and my heart is racing now. Liam doesn’t seem to notice as he continues.

  "Look I know what happened with Sam okay, I just thought maybe you might be over it all, you know, ready to think about someone else."

  "Fuck you Liam," I suddenly scream at him. "Fuck you."

  I put my hands on his chest to push him away but he grabs my wrists. His grip tightens as he stares at me and all I can smell is the alcohol on his breath.

  "What?" he says, his voice harder now. "What is your problem Ash, what makes you think I’m not good enough? You aren’t that perfect you know, not with all the shit you carry around."

  I’m shaking now. Shaking at the words he’s throwing at me, shaking at the closeness of him, shaking at the anger that’s radiating off of him. I feel sick, scared and desperate to get away from him. He was always a dick at work, but never this bad, never this aggressive. I try to push him away again but his fingers tighten. My skin is burning and I twist my arms to try and free them from his grip. He doesn’t let go.

  "Ash," says a voice I instantly recognise. "Are you okay?"

  I say nothing, my eyes closing now as frustrated tears threaten to fall from them. I have to block Liam out, block out the look that’s on his face, try to pretend he isn’t this close to me. I can only whisper now as I say, "Let me go Liam, just fuck off and let me go."

  He doesn’t move and all I can smell is the stench of alcohol and his warm breath which is blowing in my face. I’m really going to be sick in a minute. Still he doesn’t move.

  "Get the fuck out of here you asshole," says a different voice. It’s spoken so angrily, but I still don’t open my eyes. I feel Liam let go of my wrists and finally move away from me and although I’m barely standing, I can’t do anything except open my eyes, turn and walk quickly away. I don’t look back, I walk out of the bathroom and somewhere, anywhere else, opening the nearest door I can find. I hear someone call out my name but I ignore it and close myself in the room. It’s someone’s bedroom, a small lamp on a table illuminating a large room with double bed and an open closet, a smaller bathroom through another open door. Walls covered in band posters. Piles of books stacked everywhere all over the floor.

  I’m still shaking as I listen to the shouts from outside. I don’t know what’s going on out there, but several voices are shouting and then a door slams. A few minutes later I hear the door to the room I’m in open. I don’t turn around.

  "Ash?"

  Luke.

  "Ash, are you okay?"

  I shake my head now, honestly answering his question for once. I still can’t turn around, can’t face him. My whole body is shaking now; at the words Liam said, at his touch on my skin, at his breath in my face. I can’t make it stop.

  "I’m so sorry," Luke says quietly. "I shouldn’t have invited him, I’m sorry."

  He closes the door and walks over to me. I can feel him standing directly behind me. Still I say nothing.

  "I’m really sorry Ash," Luke continues. "I don’t know what else to say."

  My tears are falling freely now and I lower my face, covering it with my hands, burying my shame. Luke must step around me because the next thing I know, his arms are around me and he’s holding me. The next thing I know is my face is buried in his chest and I’m crying. He gently strokes my hair and doesn’t say anything more and all I can feel are his arms, wrapped around me. All I can feel is the warmth of his body, pressed against mine. All I can smell
is him through my tears.

  He doesn’t say anything more to me and I don’t know how he knows how to do this. How can I possibly feel okay standing here with him like this, after what happened back in the bathroom? I don’t want to be this close to him, but I can’t bring myself to move away, because he feels warm, strangely safe. And although I know this is wrong and I should move, I can’t because I feel my shaking body finally start to slow down.

  How can any of this feel okay?

  ∞

  When I was a kid, I met someone who was exactly like me. Grace hated making friends too. Neither of us would’ve even known each other, if it wasn’t for school seating arrangements. I still don’t know why we were sat together. It wasn’t alphabetical, I was a Black, she was a Robinson, so we were nowhere near each other. I guess it was just luck.

  Or bad luck in her case.

  When we first got put together, neither of us said anything for the whole day. I was too shy and she was too shy. I wanted to be friends with her and later on she told me she did too. It just took us a while to get there. Once we got over it though, that was it. We were best friends, at least until the inevitable happened.

  The reason we did become friends in the end, is simple. She stuck up for me. She defended me when no one else did and after that, well it was impossible for me not to like her.

  Because I was so shy, I used to get picked on. A lot. It was ok when my older brother Seth was around, but by the time I met Grace, he was too far ahead and we weren’t in the same school anymore. He would still walk me to the gate and drop me off, but he wasn’t there during the day. Wasn’t there when the others starting teasing me.

  I’d been sitting next to Grace for about three weeks, but we still hadn’t really spoken much. Neither of us could bring ourselves to get past a smile and a hello. After that we both seemed to get stuck. But when art rolled around, well, she became my saviour and then you couldn’t stop us talking.

  I’ve never been particularly good at art. I like to think that somewhere inside me I’m creative, but I just can’t find the right way to execute it. I don’t know, maybe I really don’t have any talent. But that day I was going to have to find some because we were starting painting. Each of us had a huge canvas and we were painting whatever we wanted, as long as we only used three colours.