Page 39 of Veiled in Brick

It wasn’t fair. James and I—we could have actually worked. Resistant as I was to a relationship of any sort, he made me feel…good. But the way that my mind was so wholeheartedly focused on another gave me the realization that I couldn’t do it. Not to him. He didn’t deserve it.

“I don’t think I can, um…I don’t think we—”

“Yeah.”

My eyes burned. “I’m sorry, Jay.”

He coughed gruffly. “Me too.” James looked to the floor, took a deep breath in, and then stated, “I, uh—I should go.”

I nodded, he returned the gesture, and then I was watching him leave.

Tears sprung to my eyes as he walked out the door, and anger roiled inside of me. My exact thoughts weren’t apparent—they were all a muddy haze of chatter in my mind as I sat, alone on the couch, for an indeterminable amount of time. All I knew was that once my mind was able to slow enough to direct my emotions into action, my legs were stomping me to my front door. I yanked it open, stormed across the hall, and didn’t bother knocking as I let myself into Liam’s apartment.

Liam sat on his couch, head leaning back as he stared at the ceiling. I only saw him in that position for a moment, though, for he was startled at my sudden appearance. His entire body flinched as the door slammed shut behind me, and he looked to me with wide eyes as he pushed himself to sit up straight.

“Zoey, what—”

“Fuck you, Liam.”

His face fell. “What?”

“I said FUCK you,” I gritted out, swiping at my eyes to prevent the tears from falling down my cheeks.

“Zoey—”

“No,” I seethed, “you don’t get to talk, you ruined everything! My life,” I slapped myself on the chest to emphasize my point, “my life—was going to. Fucking. Plan. Liam.” He clenched his jaw, and I admitted, “Y’know the worst part is that I actually liked him. It felt good, me and Jay. I’ve never fucking felt that before, and now…” I looked upward, the sight of the ceiling blurred due to my crying, and the noise that came forth from me was close to a growl. “Now, that’s fucking gone.”

“What is?” Liam asked desperately. “Jay? What, did he call it off with you? Did you tell him that I—” He stopped himself, seemingly unable to finish that sentence. “I—I’m sorry, Zoey; it was a stupid mistake…”

The word hit me square in the chest.

“Mistake,” I scoffed more to myself than to him, for the word meant regret. It meant remorse. It meant…begging to turn back time—but that wasn’t possible. The thought that he wanted to do so when all that was permeating my brain and wriggling its way under my skin was the feel of his lips on mine was…horrid. Awful. In one swift movement, two pleasures of my life were stolen from me and I was left bereft. I didn’t bother to usher the tears away from my face this time, for they were falling freely now.

“Zo’,” he spoke the abbreviated name that he had given me, and I choked back a sob. His face twisted in a pained gesture, and he begged, “Tell me what to do. I—I hate seeing you like this, I just—I—please, Zoey. Don’t be mad, just talk to me.”

“Don’t be mad?” I retorted. “You kissed me and I can’t get it out of my. Fucking. Head, Liam!”

“I know,” he groaned, “I know, I fucked up.” Liam looked at me with desperation in his eyes. “I—our friendship is important as hell to me, Zoey, I really mean that—”

“Then why the hell did you throw a wrench in it?” I hissed, and Liam’s eyes widened to the point that I could see the whites all around his dark irises. I whispered, “I can’t do this.”

“What—what are you saying?”

His expression was aghast, and it made me want to—yet again—rewind time. His blanched face awaited my response, and the metaphorical knife that had been shoved into my gut twisted. I wanted to reassure him. To tell him that we would, of course, be fine and that we would probably laugh about it in the future—but my match was lit. I was ready to give in to the bonfire that was blazing around me and there he was, at the ready with a goddamn fire extinguisher. Though I had yet to succumb, I already felt as though I were burnt. And it hurt like hell.

“I, um,” my voice quavered, and I coughed to try to conceal it to no avail, “I don’t know, Lee. I think I just, ah…I’m gonna go.”

“Zoey—”

“Later, Liam.”

I couldn’t bear to look at his face, for it would have prevented me from leaving altogether. I simply kept my gaze on the floor, allowed the tears to fall, and left as quickly as I had arrived.

I moved in a haze. It was no more than an hour later when I had taken a shower nearly hot enough to flay off my skin, covered my overly-exfoliated face with a foundation heavy enough to mask the circles under my eyes, and walked boldly into Zest with the mindset that I could drown myself in work until I went straight back home and forced myself to sleep.

Work would allow my mind to drift off to far better places than the oh-so-recent memory of James walking away from me. Work could prevent my imagination from running wild as I pictured what could have happened if Liam hadn’t yanked his lips off of mine. Work was the distraction that I needed.

But it wasn’t busy. And I cursed the fact that it was mid-week and Brenda and I had only assisted one customer a piece by the time that I was attempting to eat my microwaved dinner in the back. I was using a plastic fork to push around a lasagna noodle that was simultaneously limp and far-too-crispy and trying to focus on my distaste for it instead of the alarmingly loud thoughts in my mind when Brenda flitted toward me.

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