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32
Dylan
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It's official. I'm an idiot. I knew on some level that going out with Lana, albeit in a group setting, was going to equal trouble for me and I still did it. Lana got rip-roaring drunk, and somehow I ended up being responsible for her. Which I might not have minded so much had she not insisted on throwing her arms around my neck and trying to dance with me.
Of course the people we were with took photos of the two of us together. And of course they posted them on Facebook. Now I remember why I stayed clear of that site in the past. I prefer to live my life rather than simply record it. And it's a fabulous place for gossip and shit to fester and explode in people's lives.
When I woke up this morning, I had a message from Kara and a message from Austin. Kara called me a prick for moving on so fast and hurting her best friend. Austin told me I was a fuckwit for letting the photos get published and gave me a heads up that if Claire asked him to, he would fly to New Zealand to beat me up.
Neither of them seemed to get that hurting Claire was the last thing I ever wanted to do, and now I don't know how I'm supposed to make it up to her. Truthfully, I didn't do anything to be ashamed of. I didn't kiss Lana or even flirt with her. The only thing I'm guilty of is not pushing a drunk woman off of me. However, knowing I didn't do anything ‘wrong’ doesn't make me feel any better about hurting the one person I care for above all others.
Reaching for my phone, I scroll through it for Claire's number, and this time, instead of throwing the phone back on the bed and walking away, I tap the call button.
My heart races as I wait for her to pick up. Will she pick up? It's a Sunday night and if I were in Melbourne, I'd be visiting Diana. Maybe that's where Claire is right now – that's why she isn't picking up. I dread hearing what Diana has to say about the way I've hurt Claire. While mother and daughter are different in most ways, Diana loves her daughter to pieces. Of that, I have no doubt.
And she'll come after me if Claire tells her I'm already screwing someone else.
Even if I'm not.
The phone keeps ringing on Claire's end. I feel more and more anxious with every unanswered ring. When it cuts off because there's no answer, I hang up and try again. I hate not knowing if she's ignoring me or if she's just busy.
More than anything, I just want to talk to her. I want to make sure she's okay, but I also need to hear her voice. It's been one week and a day since I last spoke with her and kissed her goodbye. Last week, I thought we both needed some distance to come to terms with the end of our relationship and the concept of moving on, but I no longer feel that way. Even if we can't be together, I want her in my life.
Need her in my life.
“Hello.”
My heart, which was already racing uncontrollably, accelerates further and the jolt of adrenaline causes me to actually jump off the bed.
“Claire. It's Dylan.”
“Oh, hi.”
Her voice is small and the distance in it isn't from the miles that separate us. She must be thinking about the photos she's seen of me and Lana.
“Kara messaged me and told me you've seen the photos.”
There's a pause on the line. “You don't owe me an explanation. You don't owe me anything, Dylan. We both knew it was over the moment you left.”
I may not owe her an explanation, but I want to give her one anyway. “It's not what you think, Claire. She's a girl I work with. She got drunk and everyone thought it was hysterical to let me deal with her. If I could have thrown her off me without hurting her, trust me, I would have.”
“It's fine. Whatever you do is fine. She's clearly into you and I'm sure it won't be too long before the two of you are hooking up. We're both moving on.”
My heart stops. “You've gone back to the list?”
Am I really feeling this guilty when she's already started dating again?
“I've gone back to it.”
“Good for you.”
Nothing could hurt more than the idea of her dating someone. I sit back down on my bed, not able to stand for another second.
“I tore it up.”
I sit there, staring at the wall, not quite registering what she's saying.
