Please read authors note at the end, enjooooooy!

CHAPTER FIVE

            Part One

            His mesmerising eyes glue to mine for a very long time that I have to contemplate whether I should keep staring back at him or avert my gaze. I want to look away, however my eyes don't listen to my brain – they are fixed in this position, looking straight at him.

            Look away! Look away you idiot!

            But nope, they keep looking. 

            "Right, everyone out. It's been a long night, the champ needs his beauty rest." Jake's coach calls at the huddled bodies crowding the room, a smirk reshaping his lips as he cuts away at the white tape plastered around Jake's hands.

            That's when Jake looks away from me and towards his coach. Instantly, his expression changes from that of slight confusion during his stare battle with me, and turns to amusement.

            "Thanks coach, need you to give me a manicure as well," he replies, sarcastically.

            The masses of bodies start to leave the room one by one, a few throw their farewells at Jake before exiting, and it's my perfect queue to follow after them and get the hell out of here. But, when I stand up and attempt to head towards the door, Ky catches my eyes from across the room. I see him shaking his head and gesturing with his hand for me to sit back down. I watch his mouth as it mimes 'sit down', eyes widening as he does so.

            "You three can stay," Jake's voice rings in my ears and I glance towards him, trying to shield my surprise.

            By 'you three', does that mean me included? Or...

            When my eyes meet his, my question is answered. Jake nods towards the sofa that I was previously sat on.

            "Take a seat," he offers, but the way he says it, the tone of his voice...there's something there that isn't right.

            "I'm okay, thanks." Avoiding the urge to give him a sarcastic thumbs up. "I should be heading off anyway, it's getting late." The lame excuse falls off my lips. I just want to get my ass out of here – obviously he doesn't buy it though.

            "No, take a seat." He says a little more firmly, his eyes narrowing slightly.

            Well, shit. Someone's on their period.

            "I'm perfectly fine standing." I say, crossing my arms across my chest.

            The last thing this dude can do is telling me what to do. You might be mad Jake, but you're not a piece of shit, so stop acting like one.

            I see him rolling his eyes to look away from me and towards Ky, before giving him a small nod of the head. This suspicious gesture makes Ky jump into action, turning towards Lea.

            Do these boys think I'm stupid or something?

            "Lets get some food," he tells Lea, completely out of the blue. After a moment of confusion, Lea catches on as well and nods her head.

            Is she in on this as well?

            Please do not leave me in this room alone with Jake. Please, praise to the heavens, please.

            "I'll come with you guys as well." I step towards them.

            "No." Jake inputs before Ky or Lea can even respond.

            My head spins towards him; he really wants a slap, doesn't he?

Even his coach is looking at him weirdly.

            "Yes." I retort. "I'm hungry, and I want some food." I state resolutely, wearing the straightest face I can pull off.

            "We'll get the food, we won't be long." Ky says, causing me to adjust my evil glare at him. His eyes plead for me to not hate him after this.

            Allowing Lea to leave the room ahead of him, Ky throws me a sympathetic look, before following after Lea. The door closes behind them and I suddenly feel very claustrophobic. And now I'm in a situation where I would love to look into those green-y-blue-y eyes but then again I don't want to bloody drool in front of him. His looks may be drool-worthy, but his attitude definitely stinks of shit.

            Keeping my pride, I tighten my arms across my chest and look around the room at the posters plastered up on the concrete walls. So many shirtless men with boxing gloves and white shorts stare back at me.

            "Right, I'm done. Do you need anything else?" His coach asks him. Jake's stare is still following me; I can sense it.

            I take this opportunity to look up at him, to really take in his face, study his features. I must say – he's fucking gorgeous. But it's the eyes that really do it for me, the pool of a blue-green mixture to make up his irises – and if I remember correctly, there are tiny dots of brown in his left one.

             Yeah, that doesn't sound stalker-ish at all, Flo.

            "Nah man, I'm good. Do you know why Bold bailed?" Jake replies.

            At the mention of his name, my breath hitches in my throat, making me instantly look away from Jake and towards the floor. Suddenly, I feel extremely uncomfortable; the tightening of my airways doesn't help my uneasiness. Closing my eyes for a few moments, I just try to calm myself down a little bit.

            You can't pass out again. 

            "I have no idea," his coach shakes his head. "Just focus on training for now, you can beat him, you have to." I look back up to face them.

            You better beat him, I think.

            Jake nods in response, his face rock hard and serious, full of determination. "Right, I need to head off then. Six a.m. start tomorrow, remember." His coach tells him, reaching for his black Nike gym bag on the floor and slipping the long handle onto his shoulder.

            "What, coach you told me nine a.m. earlier!" Jake argues, yet is instantly silenced by his coach's glare.

            "That was before this match got cancelled. Do you wanna win or not?" His coach questions, eyebrows raised.

Yep, that definitely shut Jake up. Instead of replying, he looks away from his coach to look at the ceiling, raking a few fingers through his short hair to avoid the question.

            His silence makes the coach chuckle. "Ah, no reply then?" He smirks, glancing at me as his smile widens. I quickly return it, forcing the corner of my lips upwards. "Well it's settled, six a.m., don't be late." He finishes, receiving a grunt from Jake.

            His coach turns around to face me completely, before opening his mouth to say "I hope he doesn't piss you off too much, he's known for that you know."

            My smile remains on my face as I listen to him, knowing full well that he's totally telling the truth. "Oh yeah, I know." I laugh towards his coach before averting my eyes to meet Jake's. My heart beats a little more quickly when I realise he's already staring back at me. "He's a right pain in the ass." I state quite seriously, turning my look into a slight glare as I return his watch.

            His coach laughs, the wrinkles around his eyes becoming more prominent. The guy must be in his early fifties at least, but the tired circles around his eyes and the several strands of grey hair at the edge of his hairline can pass him as a little bit older. "This girl's funny," he says over his shoulder to Jake, whose eyes are still focused on mine.

            When Jake doesn't move his gaze away from me, the coach gets the message and hesitantly looks back at me, curiosity peaking through in his expression. "Well...then." He stutters, sensing the tension staking up like a pile of bricks.

            "I'll leave you guys to..." In a poor attempt to cut the silence between us, his coach doesn't bother to finish his sentence before walking away from both of us and stalking out of the room.

            I hear the door close softly onto its frame, enclosing me, suffocating me.  

            "Are you just going to stand there?" Jake says, and I force my head upwards to look at him.

            "Well you were the one who didn't let me go with Ky." I reply, not too happily.

            "Just sit down, Flo." He says, obviously fed up with my stubbornness.

            You're fed up with me? Good.

            "No."

            "Why not?"

            "Because I'm not planning on staying much longer."    

            "If you haven't already noticed, the doors right behind you. It's not locked, you could easily head out right now," His eyes narrow as he spells it out like it is. "But look at you, you're stood there, making no attempt to leave."

            Here is a perfect example of when I want to disperse into the thin air and disappear from the face of this earth. Why? Because he's right - I could've gone, even when he told me to stay. But the truth is, I want to stay. And I want him to want me to stay.

            "I need to talk to you." I speak as confidently as my tongue would let me. Trying my utmost hardest to keep eye contact with him and not look away.

            "Go ahead," he says, wearing that same blank face that I've come to dislike hugely.

            I want to see your smile Jake; that bold, cute, mischievous smile that I haven't seen in a heck of a long time.

            "Are..." I try to think of the right words to say, unsure of how to structure the right sentences in my mind. "Are you going to stay like this?" I point towards him, his harsh eyes that not too long ago were a little calmer, a little less spiteful.

            "Like what?" He asks.

            "Like how you're acting, are you going to keep pretending that you hate me, because I sure as hell know that you don't." I say; proud that I haven't fallen under the pressure of his dagger eyes yet.  

            "How can you be so sure?" The edge of his lip pulls upwards into a slight smirk, but it's no-where near pleasant.

            I gently brush my hand through my hair, tucking a few strands behind my ear – eyes still fixated on his, sharp in their glare.

            "Don't you remember? I know everything about you Jake." My voice lowers, becoming a little raspy.

            At this, he's the one to look away from me. His eyes travel to the floor as his hands knit together on his lap – I watch as he bites the edge of his lip, the smirk growing gradually. Then, after a few moments pass, it fades from his face altogether, and he lifts his head up.

            "And I don't know anything about you." His tone is low and husky as he says it, but I hear him well enough.

            I want to reply to say 'yes you do', or 'of course you do, we were best friends', or 'you can get to know me again, all you have to do is talk to me'. But I'm too much of a pussy to let any of those responses pour from my mouth.

            "And are you gonna keep it that way? Not know anything about me? Not want to know anything about me?" I dare to ask him those questions, to which his eyebrows slowly knit together in concentration. He crosses his arms over his bare chest; resultantly making his biceps bulge even more, and his shoulders look even broader.

            "Well let me ask you a question, then." He offers, his tone a little less harsh than before.

            "Shoot." I respond.

            He eyes me for a few seconds, maybe a little surprised that I accepted his request. You see, I don't really like to answer questions – if I have something to say, I'll tell you. Otherwise, it's not of your beeswax.

            "Why'd you leave?"

            And what a lovely question that is.

            I try to maintain my poker face, keeping my emotions hidden and unable to reveal what has really happened to me. I haven't told anyone what truly made me leave this place; so spilling the beans to Jake is not an ideal right now.

            "I needed to get out of this town." I reply, my voice steady and stable.

            I'm technically not lying, but I'm not telling the whole truth either.

            "That's not a good enough reason for me, tell me really, why'd you leave?" He sees right through it.

            "You don't have to be my friend, but can you at least not make this about you? I left, end of. What's done is done." I respond rather cruelly, but I don't give a damn. He should understand to just drop it.

            "The reason we're not friends anymore is because you left, it's your fault we're not like we used to be, Flo. Can't you see that?" He says, not loudly, not angrily, but more irritated than anything else. "I'm not trying to make this about me, but yeah it sure does help if you tell me what the hell is up with you."

            What the hell is up with me? I don't know.

Maybe I can call myself a wreck, a complete mess, my whole world upside down and a blur. Dragging my feet to make things right, when all I really want to do is just end it all together? Living in this body that feels so dirty, that I can't even look at myself in the mirror sometimes. Not being able to trust anyone, especially men.

            Yeah, what the hell is up with me? If only I can answer that question myself.

            My eyes roam his face, taking in the mesmerizing colour of his irises once more, examining the sharp jaw line that frames his features, following the shape of his seductive pink lips. I realise now that I've missed him more than anyone else, and I look back and think of how we might've been, how we could've worked, how we could've been with each other and happy. Might have, could have. 

            But that's nothing but an idea, and I bury it in the back of mind, wishing that I could forget about the feelings I still feel for this boy.

            You can never be with him, you realise that right?

            I don't think I'll be able to be with anyone for a very, very long time, let alone him.

            "I'm sorry, Jake. Yeah, it is my fault." I nod; please keep this straight face, do not show him anything. "But I don't think you understand that I'm not the person I used to be, so don't ask me about the past. Forget what happened in the past, it'll do you and me a lot of good." I finish, taking a step backwards in attempt to leave this room. I think what I've said is enough to linger in this smothering air.

            "So if you don't talk to me about what happened," he calls after me, and I halt in my tracks. "How'd you expect me to know anything about you?"

            I face him once again, eyes fixed together in a stare that is so hard to break.

            "First step is to not be such a dick." I reply, honestly.

            To my surprise, he chuckles, and there is a tinge of humor in his laugh.

            "I'll stop being a dick if you stop being a bitch." He shoots back, and I have to give him credit for it.

            My lips pull upwards into my cheeky smile.

            "You know that's not possible, Lloyd."

            "Then I'll still be a dick, Brine." He says, his eyes challenging mine, the smirk still fresh on his face.

            Would it be rude to say I want to smack that smirk off of him?

            I roll my bottom lip into my mouth, biting gently on the skin of it. "Shame," I say. "I thought you'd be the most understanding out of everyone. Guess I was wrong."

He shakes his head in disapproval. "Put yourself in my shoes, Flo. See it the way I see it. Understand me and I'll understand you." He uncrosses his arms and pushes himself off of where he's sat to steady himself on his feet. He takes one step closer, but is still a few feet away from me. "All I want to know is why you didn't call me, or contact me, or get in touch in any way. 'Cos if you did then maybe things would be a lot different right now."

His looks hopefully, anticipation in his eyes as he waits for my response. And I give it to him.

"Because I didn't want to." I lie, coldly.

I did want to, but my hands were like bricks at my side, weighing me down and burying me away – I couldn't make that call no matter how much I wanted to.

Jake's anticipation dies, the hopefulness dies, and in their places crowds regret and disappointment. His eyes drop to the floor again, dissatisfied and frustrated – I can't blame him, I would be too.

I'm sorry Jake. I'm really sorry.

"Yeah, you're...you're definitely not the Flo I used to know." He said, the toughness returning to his voice, the barrier being pulled up to shield him, the blank face persistent.

As much at the words stab at my heart, I know they're true. And I know that I'll never be able to have the same relationship with Jake that I used to have – that's what is killing me the most right now, the sense of certainly letting go and losing him.

"When Ky and Lea come back, tell them I'm sorry I had to leave, and to have a good night." I tell him, shifting my legs towards the door.

"Anything you'd like me to pass onto River?" He says, stopping my steps again. A shiver races down my spine at the sound of my former best friends name, does River know I'm back? "Or maybe you've made out with him already."

...What did he just say?

Twat. Jake, you absolute twat.

Furiously, I spin on my heel, my blood starting to boil within my veins, sprinting throughout my body and emptying droplets of venom into every cell. It's scary how angst can overwhelm you in such a short few seconds.

 "How many times do I have to tell you that that was just a dumb drunken kiss? How about I point out to you how many girls you've hooked up with!" I fume, the anger over-spilling out of my mouth. I swear if looks could kill, I'd be locked up in jail.

Just as he's is about to reply – a response that no doubt would be as spiteful as mine - the door behind me swings open, revealing Ky and Lea hugging four large brown paper bags full of fast food to their chest. However, when Ky notices the rage not only present on my face, but also on Jake's, he pauses still. Lea follows suit.

"Shall we...come back later?" Ky asks hesitantly, uneasy under the infuriated eyes of Jake's and mine.

Immediately, I shift out of my angered emotions and ease the harsh look crowding my face. Tugging at a half-hearted smile, I shake my head and gesture for them both to come further into the room.

"No, no. I was just about to leave anyway." I fake smile.

"What about the food, we got you a burger." Lea says, looking down towards one of the bags in her arms.

"Oh, don't worry. I'm not hungry anymore." I say, digging into my jeans pocket to grab a ten-pound note. "Here, here's ten pounds, you can have the burger." I outstretch my hand towards her, the note balancing between my index finger and thumb.

"Oh no, keep it, it's fine." She smiles genuinely.

River's done himself a good job; he's finally found himself a decent girl.

Georgia was decent, before you went and screwed her over behind her back, stabs the voice inside my brain.

"You sure?" I ask.

"Yeah, it's fine. Are you okay now?" She inquires worriedly, referring to my fainting incident earlier.

"Yeah, I'm fine, thank you." Except, I'm not fine. Not because of the fainting, but because of the douche standing behind me. "I better get going, I'll see you guys soon." I say, nodding towards both Ky and Lea, and completely ignoring Jake – thank God he's stood a far enough distance behind me, otherwise if he was within arms reach, I think I would've given him the best punch I can muster.

I lead myself out of the room and find the nearest lift. Getting in with a bunch of other people, I squeeze myself into the furthest corner and try not to make eye contact with anyone, but that's not hard to do anyway, because the tears start to prick at my eyeballs and blur my vision.

I can't see anything unless I blink the tears away.

            Part Two

            These past two weeks, ever since I saw Jason at the boxing match, I've been nothing but queasy and light-headed all the damn fucking time. And it's pissing me right off, to the point where even tolerating my mother has become too much to handle. Argument after argument after bloody argument, and she just doesn't seem to get the fact that she's not being that much of a mother to me – she hasn't been for two years.

            When I moved to Australia, I was the one to call her - she didn't bother to make any effort. And when we did speak over the phone, the chat was minimal, lasting for around ten minutes at the most.

            I used to think it was my fault. I was the one that told Dad her dirty little secret, and so I kept taunting myself with the fact that I was the one responsible for their divorce.

            Yet now I understand – I wasn't.

            That day when I came home from school and walked into her bedroom, it was her who was fucking a random dude she'd apparently met at work; who now has taken the totally well deserved role of being my stepdad – perfect, isn't it?

Until today, I still remember the way they scrambled to reach for the sheets in order to cover their vile naked bodies from my view. But it was too late; I saw every single detail, to my dismay. So like a normal human being – or maybe not, I was quite the drama queen back then – I started throwing things at them, cursing my mother for being such a whore, swearing to cut off my now-step fathers little (and I mean little) package, and threatening to tell dad.

Which I did, surprise surprise.

Although I do regret the way in which I told him, which went a bit like: 'Hey dad, how was your day at work? Oh and by the way, your wife is cheating on you, and I have no idea how the guys pleasing her anyway 'cos his dick is tiny,' I'm glad I did tell him. Who else would? And trust me my father did not deserve to be lied to and cheated on.

After he took a few minutes to register the information that I so bluntly threw at him (sorry dad), he told me that he'd 'figure it out'. He didn't 'figure it out', more like he was depressed ever since. They both fought for a few weeks – weeks full of my mother mainly pleading for his forgiveness because she realised that he was a damn good man, and my father ignoring everything she said and packing up his things to move out into a hotel room.

During that time, my mother also didn't attempt to communicate with me. In her words, she was 'disappointed' in me. Yes, you read that right.

I'm not going to lie to you, at the start I did take the blame for it, and I felt guilty as shit – I still do, sometimes. However, I remind myself that it was in fact her fault, not mine, and she needed to pay the consequences. That fact eases my mind a little.

Yep, so that's why I'm here, sat on the bottom step of the stairs, eyeing my phone as I wait impatiently for Aiden to text me that he's outside. My suitcase is all packed and stands beside the door, ready to be wheeled away to its next destination. I am not staying in this damned house another day.

The phone vibrates in my hand, the front screen illuminating a message from Aiden: I'm outside, loser.

I smile, finally. Coming, weirdo: I text back and push myself off of the stairs. Reaching for the handle of the silver rectangular suitcase, I open up the front door and pull it behind me, slamming the door shut.

One year, then I'm out of here. Just. One. More. Year.

 I breathe in a deep breath of the fresh morning air, ventilating that which is contaminated in my lungs. Spotting Aiden's car on the other side of the road, I start towards it, a smile merging my mouth as I watch Aiden get out of the car and walk hurriedly towards me.

"I'll take that," he offers, reaching for the suitcase in my hands.

Although I do give it to him, I can't help but laugh. "You know, I can pull a suitcase,"

He grins back at me as we step in sync towards the car. "I know, but it's called being a gentleman."

I raise one of my eyebrows when we reach the boot of the Audi; he opens it up in order to fit the suitcase into the cramped space. "Oh please, you don't have to impress me with all that bullshit."

"It's not bullshit," he defends himself, closing the boot and heading towards the drivers seat. I round the car to the passenger side and we simultaneously get in.

"It is bullshit." I state, knowingly.

"Not all guys are assholes, at least not me." Aiden says, and I snort. He turns to me, amused. "What?"

"You honestly expect me to believe that?" I laugh as I secure my seatbelt around me.

"Yes, I do," he replies.

I can't help but roll my eyes at him, "whatever floats your boat, muppet."

He smiles at my remark before turning the key in the ignition and starting up the car. "Where to, loser?"

"To here, idiot." I say, outstretching my hand that's holding onto my phone so that he can read the address of the new studio apartment I managed to find after days of searching.

After eyeing the screen for a few moments, he nods. "Sweet, that's not too far from here. You ready? Got everything?"

"Yep." I say, popping the 'p'. "And...thanks."

Turning out onto the road, he glances towards me, a pleasant smile on his face. "For what?"

"Everything you've done so far," I say. "I really appreciate it."

He starts to chuckle, and so do I when I hear what he has to say.

 "Where has the horrible Flo gone and what have you done with her?"

+++

Part 3

Now moving out of the family home may seem like a whole lot of fun and games, making you independent and all that crap. But the fact that you have to pay a lot of money – sometimes more than you can afford – just to keep the hot water running finally sinks in, pun not intended.

I would be lying to you if I didn't have the uncontrollable urge to call my dad to ask for money; he sure does have a lot of it. But no, I stopped myself with everything in me. Since my bank account only holds enough money to buy myself a plane ticket back to Australia, which I'll most likely spend on food in about two weeks time, I decided to get a job in order to feel stable.

And to distract myself.

So here I am, waiting tables at the well-known Bella Italia restaurant, only a few minutes walk from my apartment. Apart from the time I accidently tripped up and spilt coke down my front then have my perverted prick of a work colleague point out that you could see my blue bra through the soaked shirt, everything's been...decent. I can't complain, they pay well, and the job keeps me busy.

"Hey gorgeous, table six is waiting for you. Dont spill coke all over yourself though, the dude might get a bit distracted." Dev, or the 'pervert' as I've nicknamed him calls out at me after I finish up on the till.

His words make me grimace, "How about I make you distracted by kicking you in the balls?" I say casually over the till at him, his greasy hair making me want to gag.

"I'd rather you just hold them, you know? Caress them." He whispers back.

I try not to throw up. "I would, but first I'd need a microscope to find them."

He forces an obviously fake laugh as I walk away, "hahaha, so funny, I'm dying." His sarcasm gets quieter and quieter as I make my way to table six.

            When I round the large plant pot placed a few feet before the table, my legs stop in their tracks involuntarily as soon as my eyes land on the couple sat there. Instantly twisting my body away from fucking table six, I attempt to walk away. But no, nope, nah, knowing my luck she sees and calls after me, her voice loud over the chatter of the other customers, resulting in a few disapproving looks.

            Really Becca, really?

            Slowly, steadily, I turn on my heel in order to face her...and Jake.

            "Hey," I reply, much more quietly than she did.

            "Well, aren't you going to serve us?" She says, looking all excited. I know that she only means well, and she's trying to be a good step-sister, and she doesn't know the history between me and Jake, and...

            Okay, now I wish I never got this job.

            "Yes," I say, and for the first time I glance towards Jake, who's staring right back. And every damn time my heart somersaults as if it were in the Olympics.

            "Oh, I'm sorry Flo, this is Jake. Jake this is Flo, my step-sister, you met each other a few weeks back when you were in the hospital remember?" She turns towards him, and he nods back.

            "We know each other, we went to school together." Jake inputs, to my surprise. He looks up at me with a look so unreadable that it annoys me to the point where I just want to shake him by his shoulders.

            Or punch him. Or kiss him.

            Florence Brine, did you honestly just say that?

            "No way! That's a small world right there," My sister laughs. "You guys are friends then?" Eagerly wanting to change the subject, I dig out the small paper pad and pen I have buried in my trouser pockets and look up between them both.

"What can I get for you tonight?"

            Forgetting she even asked that question, Becca quickly looks down at the menu and points to one of the pastas that she most likely can't pronounce.

            "Okay, and do you want any side with that?" I ask, jotting down the dish in a scribble, the corner of my concentrating on Jake. He's looking at me, and I pray to God I'm not turning red.

            Don't turn red for him, he's an idiot.

            "No I'm okay, want do you want babe?" She looks up at her 'babe' and I look at him too.

            His eyes pierce mine. "Chilli vegetarian pizza, please. No tomatoes." I'm stunned he remembers his manners, thought they were gone forever.

            "And can I get any drinks for you both?" I turn to Becca, no longer wanting to hold his gaze, not after our last conversation at the boxing match.

            "Just water for me," She says and I nod, jotting the information down.

            "The same for me as well," he adds.

            Keeping my eyes glued at the paper, I tell them how long the food will take and if they need anything, they can call for me. After one quick smile at Becca, I head off to the staff toilets, relieved that I'm no longer close to him anymore.

            I want to be close to him, but then again I want to kill him with everything in me. He's supposed to help me, be there for me, he's supposed to be my Jake. Mine. Not hers.

            I stare at my weak self in the mirror, and the girl staring back at me is crying reluctantly. The tears seem to keep creeping down her cheeks without her permission, and I wipe them away before they reach my chin.

            Stupid girl, you should know better. He will never be yours.

            I just told them that if they need anything, they can just call for me. Little does he know is that I need something. I need him to let me back into his life, as weak as it sounds; I'm only being honest with myself. I want him to be my friend again. I realise I can't be anything more that that, and that's okay. I just need him to be there for me again.

            I wish I never kissed River.

I wish I were the first to tell Jake that I did kiss River, instead of him finding out through other people. I wish he never came round to my house after he found out and screamed at me. I wish I never saw him cry because of me.

            I wish I never disrespected his trust.

            I wish I kissed Jake instead.

+++

            It was my turn at the till again, and I was so grateful that I couldn't see Jake or Becca from this angle. After wiping away the tears from the idiotic breakdown I had in the toilets, I forced myself to smile at customers who came up to pay or order a take-away. With five minutes left of my shift, I stare wearied at the clock, wishing the minute finger would move a bit faster toward the twelve.

            So dazed in my boredom, I jump in fright when I hear a cough from behind the till. Straightening myself up quickly, I look at the guy stood in front of me, only a counter separating us.

            Jake.

            "Lloyd." I try my best to camouflage my rising heartbeat.

            "Brine." His voice deep and tired.

            "The bill, please," he says, and a little hope in me dies. I honestly thought that he was just saying hello.

            "Yeah, sure." I click onto the restaurant software and find their bill. "Card or cash?"

            "Card," he replies, no emotion peaking through his voice whatsoever.

            "Please put you card into the card reader," I tell him, and he does as I say.

            "Why aren't you living with you mum anymore?" He questions, forcing my curious eyes to find his.

            "How do you know?" I ask.

            "Becca,"

            Eugh. Can't she keep her mouth shut?

            "Where is Becca anyway?" I say, and it's a fail at trying to change the subject.

            "In the car, so answer the question, why have you moved out?"

            "Why do you wanna know?"

            He sighs at me. "Where are you living now?"

            "Stalker much?"

            He rolls his eyes, and I smirk.

            "Oh I'm sorry, is something bothering you?" I ask him. "Please enter your pin." I instruct him.

            As he presses his pin into the small machine, he continues to speak. "Becca says you're not taking any money from your dad, that's why you're working here."

            "Your payment is through, please remove your card." I tell him, almost robotically due to the amount of times I've had to say it to people already.

            "Flo."

            "Have a lovely evening, Jake."

            "Flo."

            "What?"

            "Why are you doing this?" His eyebrows crease towards each other.

            "Doing what?"         

            "Moving out? Not taking money. Why?"

            "I don't need to live with anyone or take money from anyone. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go, my shifts over." I tell him, never breaking eye contact.

            He licks his lips, studying my face for several moments.

            "Goodnight," he finally says.

            "Goodnight," I respond.

            As he turns away, he glances back at me one more time before heading out of the restaurant. "Check my payment before you go."

            I can't ask him any questions because as soon as he says that, he's out of the door. So, as instructed, I look towards the computer screen and check his payment.

            The meal all together was £32.50.

            But then something catches my eyes in the bottom corner of the screen. Holy shit. In shock, my eyes dart towards the door where Jake just exited, my mouth hanging slightly agape.

Service Tip: £200.00 

Paid by: Jacob Mathew Lloyd

To worker: Florence Rosa Brine 

+++

Yoooooo, how you doin'? 

Okay pleaaaaase don't kill me. I know I've disappeared AGAIN, and trust me you're not the only ones that are pissed with me, I'm pissed with myself. I'm so disappointed that I didn't upload this sooner, I've just been too busy, and then when it came to writing, nothing came to my mind. I had the worst case of writers block.

Anyway, MPAI. So many of you think I'm giving it up. HELL NAW. I aint giving up my baby, I'm working on it, but me being an idiot, I'm slow, I take time, I don't get inspired that easily. I promised an update before xmas, but since the chapter I came up with was literally crap, I did not want to post it. I'm sorry, but I will not post a crap chapter just to meet a deadline. And anyway, it's the LAST chapter, it has to be perfect.

So please hang in there. I'm not giving up, I'm just taking my time. I have a lot on my plate right now, and you guys are awesome and understand that, so thank you so much for the love and support you continue to give me. I love you so much <3

Keep me in your prayers, cross your fingers for me, and hopefully MPAI will be completed soon :)

Stay beautiful you amazing human beings <3

Indie xoxo