‹Three›

            ‹Part 1›

            I don't know why I'm doing this, I really don't.

            However, no matter how many times I tell my fingers not to tap against the touchscreen of my phone, they manage to get to Jake's phone number. There they are – the alignment of black numbers that only two years ago I would dial at least once a day, just to say hello.

            And now, as I stare at the white screen for what seems like forever, part of me wonders why in hell I didn't delete the number when I first went to Australia. And why in hell am I staring at it right now.

            Jake Lloyd

            07567015164

            I re-read the name and the numbers over and over as I sit on the edge of the garden wall of my mums house. The sunset sky above me gives the white screen a tint of red and orange, making his name shine even more.

            I get the urge to tap on the number. One tap, and I'll be calling him.

            No, you can't do that. No, stop, put the finger down. No.

            Too late.

            What the actual fuck are you doing?

            Eyes slightly widening at the realisation that my finger actually did tap on Jake's number, and that my phone is now ringing it, I quickly place the phone to my ear.

            Hang up, hang up, hang up!

            But nope, I continue to wait for the typical 'ring-ring' tone on the other side of the line. However, the number seems to go straight to a voice mail.

            "I'm sorry, but this number is currently out of service. Please try again later." States the woman on the line in her usual patronizing tone.

            I really, really don't know why I just did that. Of course Jake wouldn't have the same number he did two years ago, and even if he did, I don't think he would've picked it up if it was me. I wonder if he still has my old number in his phone, like how I have his; maybe he wanted to delete it, but never really managed to do so, like me.

            I also wonder whether he ever tried to contact me when I left. After all, I did just...disappear.

            Who am I kidding? He probably forgot by the second day.

            The sound of a smooth car engine cuts off my trail of thoughts, causing me to look up at the black Audi TT that pulls up by the curve before me. The car comes to a smooth halt - rolling down the passenger window, Aiden leans over from the drivers seat to a get a better look at me.

            "You're actually on time for once, I was dreading knocking on the door to drag you out." Is the first thing he says, and I smirk back at him automatically.

            "When am I ever late for a party?" I say honestly, stuffing my phone into my shorts pocket and pushing myself off of the garden wall. Aiden smiles in return.

            I step towards the edge of the pavement curve, then lean down and place my folded arms on the tip of the rolled down window, poking my head inside the stylish Audi.

            "Nice ride, did daddy pay for it?" I ask, pouting my lips just to annoying him.

            "As if dad would get me another car after I crashed his Porsche; it's Georgia's." Aiden explains, but quickly shuts his mouth once he realises that he's brought her up in conversation.

            "Ah, I see." I say, as if her name doesn't bother me at all. "Well, Georgia's always had good taste in expensive stuff." I state truthfully, eyeing the interior of this sleek car; I don't want Aiden to get awkward just because Georgia and I aren't exactly on speaking terms anymore.

            "So, are you gonna let me crash it, or what?" I smile.

            "No way, you can't drive it. She'd kill me if she found out." Aiden says, shaking his head frantically.

            "Well, she doesn't need to know." I say, shrugging my shoulders. "I told you earlier that I'm driving, so budge." I finish, a devilish smirk tugging at my lips.

            Aiden looks away from me, and at the road ahead. After exhaling deeply, with his lips curve into an 'o' shape, he replies.

            "Why the hell do you always get your way?" He mutters under his breath as he unbuckles himself from the car seat, and opens the driver's door.

            I grin to myself, standing up straight and making my way over to the drivers side, happy that I can still get my way with Aiden after all these years.

            "Who is the coolest friend ever?" I ask him, raising my eyebrows at him, and throwing on the best smile I can force.

            He just laughs and rolls his eyes, rounding the bonnet of the car and heading towards the passengers seat.

            Once we're both buckled safely into our seats, I press against the gas pedal and speed down the street, allowing Aiden to guide me through this small and familiar town, to Jake's place.

            ‹Part 2›

            "It's here, on the left." Aiden points with his hand, gesturing for me to park the car against the curb outside Jake's house.

            "That's his place?" I ask; jaw fractionally dropped at the sight.

            "Yeah, he's pretty minted now." Aiden nods.

            Before us is a block of condos – the architecture is white, modern, and seems extremely expensive from the outside. The building is covered in shiny tinted windows and balconies, and you can tell that each apartment is huge. I can only guess it's going to look as luxurious on the inside as well.

            "No shit, his dad is a freaking millionaire." I mumble, not actually intending for Aiden to hear it.

            But he does, and shakes his head. "Nah, his dad doesn't help him out with money anymore. Jake doesn't really talk to his family that much these days."

            At Aiden's words, I turn to him with a surprised expression rearranging my features.

            "What do you mean?" I question, my eyes narrowed.

            Two years ago, based on what I can remember, Jake had no problem with his family. In fact, him and his parents were pretty close, and since Jake doesn't have any siblings, he's always been pretty spoilt, especially by his dad.

            "Did something happen between them?" I ask again, urging Aiden to explain the situation further.

             "I have no idea." He shakes his head once more. "I thought you'd know all this already, weren't you really close with Jake and River and that lot?"

            I force a small smile onto my face, trying to look like I'm not affected by any of their names. "I used to be Aiden, but I've been in Australia for the past two years, remember? Duh." I say playfully, nudging him gently and thus making him glance down to his lap in embarrassment.

            He chuckles, "yeah. I guess, I just thought you would've stayed in touch, you know."

            I laugh at the thought. "Yeah no. That wouldn't have been ideal." I turn the keys in the ignition after the car is properly parked against the pavement, and this pricey vehicle swiftly falls to stillness.

            "Why?" Aiden inquires, facing me.

            "Just because," I speak quickly, unbuckling my seatbelt, trying to avoid the topic that I can see is fast approaching.

            "But what happened that was so bad that you completely cut everyone off, including my sister?" Aiden says it, the one subject that I've been dreading to come face to face with ever since I decided to come back here.

            "Georgia cut me off, by the way, not the other way round" I turn to him. "And nothing happened, I just needed a new start." I blatantly lie.

            "Why did she cut you off?" Aiden keeps pushing, not seeing the signals that I'm subtly trying to hint to him that I do not want to talk about this, at least not now.

            Not ever.

            "You don't know already? I thought she would've told the whole world by now." I mutter lowly, but obviously he catches it.

            I can see him opening his mouth, about to say something else, but I quickly silence him.

            "Aiden, enough." I order, staring him right in the eye. "If I wanted to tell you what happened, I would've done so already. So take a hint." I say, rather harshly, but then again, I'm Flo, I'm a bitch, I don't beat around the bush when I have to say something to someone.

            He stares back at me, a look of curiosity clouding his eyes as he finds it hard to drop the topic at hand. But after a few moments, I can tell by the way he closes his eyes for a second too long before opening them again, that he's managed to let it go.

            "Okay," he says. "I just don't like all these secrets, you never were this...mysterious back then."

            Mysterious? Really Aiden? Really?

            "Can we just go to the party and get wasted on drinks that we don't need to pay for, please?" I plead, making him smile the very memorable 'Aiden smile'.

            "So you're still an alcoholic?" Aiden laughs sarcastically, his eyes twinkling.

            I grin, showing off my teeth. "Only when the drinks are free, I can't afford to buy my own anymore."

            At this, Aiden frowns. "What happened to being the spoilt little daddy's girl?"

            I roll my eyes at this statement, wanting to cringe when I remember how I used to be when I was younger, when I used to get anything and everything, including mass amounts of money from my dad. When I didn't realise the importance of actually saving up and spending money cautiously.

            "I grew up." I answer simply.

            After I say that, Aiden doesn't question anymore. He just hesitates for a moment, before nodding his head, and unbuckling his seatbelt.

            "That's good." He finally responds.

            "Mhmm," I reply, and get out of the car.

            Once Aiden does the same, we both shut our doors, and I make sure to lock the car with the press of the remote car key button.

            "Catch!" I call to Aiden, then throw the car keys to him.

            His eyes widen as the keys travel over the car roof and through the air towards him. Thankfully, he manages to catch them before they hit his face.

            "Do you want to poke my eye out with a car key?" He asks, his wide eyes now glued to mine.

            I laugh, "maybe. Now lets go, it's cold out." I say, dragging my feet from the driver's side and onto the pavement.

            Pacing, we make our way from the sidewalk outside the opening of the apartment parking lot, and to the main entrance of the tall, rectangular building. My assumptions prove to be correct once we enter the lobby – it's modern, it's black and white, and everything looks so, so expensive.

            If Jake's dad didn't pay for this, then how on earth could Jake rent out or buy an apartment here.

            "You're not really dressed for a party, are you?" Aiden comments once we reach an elevator. He presses the upward button.

            I glance down at my outfit, which consists of a burgundy t-shirt with the a white peace sign logo covering the middle, black waist high shorts, tights, and my favourite pair of white converses.

            "What, you want me to wear a slutty low cut dress that practically makes my boobs fall out? No thanks." I retort. The elevator doors slide open and we enter into the shaft.

            Aiden smiles, "well, that's every boys best wish, but that's not what I meant."

            I playfully hit his arm. "Don't be such a dude, Aiden."

            He raises his eyebrows while pressing the number '5' on the elevator pad. "What? I am a dude!"

            Jake's apartment is on the 5th level.

            "Whatever," I answer, not bothered by his debate, but instead more focused on where I'm going now.

            The doors close, and the shaft raises us up to the 5th floor.

             If I see Jake, what will I say? What if I see Ky, or even worse, River? What will I say to them?

            Why is my heart racing at the speed of a machine gun right now? Damn, chill out Flo, chill out.

            Thank God Georgia's out of town, I don't know what I would do if I saw her tonight.

            "Are you okay? You look a bit...pale." Aiden states.

            Is it that obvious?

            "I'm fine," I reply, steadily, I don't want him to know that I'm nervous.

            The elevator doors slide open, and as they do so, the thumping music flowing through the corridor ahead of us fills up the shaft. The beat makes the ground below us vibrate, and I won't be surprised if the neighbours haven't complained about it yet.

            We step into the corridor that has white marble floors and black and white checkered walls. To our right, the whole wall is made of glass, overlooking our city centre, which seems alive and on fire due to the beautiful array of streetlights. It's a mesmerising view.

            As we pace further and further down the corridor, we reach the first door – it's black, with the numbers '501' stuck on its front. At this point, the music is very loud, and since I haven't been to a party in a long time, my ears have yet to get used to the intense base.

            Aiden presses on what I guess is the doorbell, except above the button is a small screen, which lights to life after a few seconds. On the screen appears a buff looking guy, who's wearing a black round-neck t-shirt and has half of a neck tattoo on show; the rest of it hides behind the fabric of his shirt.

            "Name?" the thirty-ish year old man asks in an incredibly low, manly voice, and it's a relief we're able to hear him over the thumping music. From what I can see, it look like his biceps are the size of my face, and that he's not someone you want to be messing around with.

            "Aiden Blakeman." Aiden calls over the loud music, not at all bothered by the scary-looking guy.

            "And who's the pretty lady." The man asks.

            Pretty lady? Really?

            "A guest, she won't be on the list." Aiden replies.

            After a moment's consideration, the guy finally responds. "Okay, come in."

            Then, there's a buzzing sound, and the door to the apartment clicks open. Suddenly, the painfully loud sound waves hit my ears, making them want to commit suicide. I swear, they're not going to be able to function properly tomorrow. 

            Without warning, Aiden places his hand on the small of my back, and gently pushes me further into the apartment, but my ears protest against it, and so does the small of my back.

            Aiden, please take your hands off the small of my back. Aiden, please take your hand off the small of my back.

            Thankfully, his hand does drop from my back before I have to tell him to do so. But that's only one of my problems out of the way. The biggest problem at hand is the fact that as soon as they realise our presence, half of the people in this room turn to face us (or, more precisely, me).

            I meet the eyes of a few of these individuals, but wish I didn't because they are people that I recognise. The familiar faces of fellow students that I used to go to school with. A few turn away, but then turn back after realising that it really is me, just without the fiery red-dyed hair and facial piercings.

            Instantly, I avert my eyes from those curious ones staring back at me, and turn to Aiden, who stands beside me. By the partially worried emotion displayed on his face, I can tell that he's noticed the stares as well.

            "Wanna go get a drink?" He asks, or more like shouts into my ear, so I'm able to hear him as 'Super Bass' is playing on full volume.

            "You know me too well," I shout back, forcing a smile.

            Maybe I shouldn't have come tonight, this hasn't been one of my best ideas.

            The curious eyes stick to us like glue as both Aiden and I move through the mushed crowds of bodies swaying to beat of the monstrously loud music. To be honest, I'm quite happy the music is so loud, that way I'm not able to hear what all the people might be whispering to each other behind my back.

            Isn't that Flo? When did she come back?

            Thank God her hair is a normal colour now.

            I guess she's grown out of her Goth phase; those piercings were terrible.

            I can just imagine what they're saying, or at least thinking.

            After shuffling our way from what seemed like the lounge area, we get to the kitchen, which is thankfully a little less crowded. Although the lights are dim, and I have to squint my way through the room, we manage to reach a table that has a variety of alcoholic drinks available and ready to be consumed.

            That's what these teenage parties are for right? Get wasted, dance until your feet hurt, maybe get lucky by the end of the night, and not remember a single thing the next day.

            It's a bit of a waste of an evening if you think about it, but that's what us teenagers like to do; waste the time we have, so we can fast-forward to the future, then complain why our teenage years went past so quickly.

            Aiden passes me a large plastic cup, and I take it from him willingly. Since this is the first occasion that I've had time to drink since I arrived here from Australia, I grab any bottle closest to me, pour some of its content into my cup, and take a large gulp.

            Bad idea. It's vodka. And it burns my throat like fucking crazy.

            "Oh maaaaaan." I groan, covering my mouth as I cough viciously.

            "Woah, slow it down," Aiden says. "There's plenty to go around." He jokes, gesturing to the rest of the bottles on the table.

            I narrow my eyes at him, still in pain from the scratching of the alcohol against the lining of my throat. Turning back to the table besides us, I reach for the bottle of coke in the far corner. Placing my plastic cup near the edge of the table, I unscrew the coke bottle, and mix my cup of vodka with the black-coloured, sugar-filled drink.

            Then, returning the bottle back in its original position, I pick up my cup of coke and vodka, swirl the liquids together by the steady shake of my hand, and take a swig. It still burns my throat like crazy, but the buzzing feeling overwhelms my senses for a moment, making the irritation in my throat worth it.

            Glancing up at Aiden, I notice that he doesn't have a plastic cup in his hand, but instead is watching me and I chug down my drink.

            "You're not having anything?" I question.

            "Nah, been sober for six months and counting." He speaks, smiling.

            Wait, what? Aiden, sober? He always used to drink, maybe even a little more than recommended.

            "Why you being sober? Life's much easier with a shot to get you through the day." I reply, sipping at my drink. My eyebrows crease together in curiosity.

            "Yeah, I guess," he chuckles. "But my life got a bit too easy. It got to the point where it wasn't just one shot a day, you know what I mean." He explains, and I bring the cup away from my mouth to look him in the eye.

            He looks grievously back at me, but quickly averts his gaze to the cup in my hand.

            "I'd rather not blame it on the alcohol anymore." He finishes.

            Is that why he's in therapy? Alcohol addiction?

            "Sober for six months, eh?" I confirm; a beam pulls at the corners of my lips. "That's longer than I can ever go."

            ‹Part 3›

            It's been two hours ever since I arrived, and I managed to lose Aiden half an hour ago amongst the massive crowds of people huddled in what seems to be every inch of this apartment. So, to save myself from actually having to talk to anyone, I find a staircase that leads to the second floor of the apartment.

            Once I get to the landing, I'm relieved to find out that there is hardly anyone up here. In fact, there are only a few couples lingering about the landing – one couple are sitting together on a love seat in the middle, enjoying their drinks and laughing at what the other has to say. The other couple is passionately making out in the far corner, and they seem to be making their way to one of the nearby bedrooms.

            See what I mean, getting lucky.

            I, on the other hand, have no intention to talk to anyone, or to make out with anyone. My head at the moment is exploding in sync with the deafening beat of the music on the ground floor. Although I did stop drinking the vodka and coke after finishing almost half the large cup, the effect of the alcohol has taken its toll on my body.

            See, I've never been the one to digest alcohol that well. And, no matter how many times in the past I've had to endure a night of vomiting or a morning of being insanely hung-over, I've never learnt my lesson; alcohol and I do not mix well.

            But, then again, life's a lot easier with a shot to get you through the day.

            Deciding it be best to leave the couple on the love seat a few meters away from me to their privacy, I pick the nearest door, turn the handle, and enter the room. Slightly stumbling into the dim-lit bedroom, I freeze in the doorway when I realise what I've walked into.

            In front of me, on a low black leather bed, are two people, intensely making out. The girl is half-naked, with only a set of very lacy lingerie to cover her womanly assets. She is straddled on top of a guy who is leant against the bed's headboard, with no shirt on, and a pair of black jeans to cover his bottom half.

            When they apprehend that they have company, they both rapidly and simultaneously pull away and twist their heads in my direction. I, like a complete fool, stand statue-still in the doorway, unmoving, wide-eyed, and silent.

            And that's when I realise who the guy is.

            Wow, this really could not get more awkward.

            "Well, sorry about that." I manage cough up after my moment of complete muteness. "I'll just find another room."

            "Flo?" Jake calls in a stern tone, and I want to face-palm myself.

            I thought he wouldn't recognise me that well, especially in this darkness. And although he saw me only a few weeks ago in the hospital, I thought that maybe he wouldn't remember my face that well.

            I thought wrong, because even when I ignore his call and start to turn away to head out of the room, he calls again.

            "Flo?" He says more loudly.

            Slowly, I turn back around to face him and the unknown blonde that was sucking at his tongue only a few seconds ago. He's now stood up from the bed, leaving the blonde alone, cross-legged and confused, pulling at the bed sheets closer to her chest in order to cover her body.

            "Alright there?" I nod at him, forcing the most fake smile I have ever worn since arriving at this party. "I'll just get going to leave you guys to..." Unsure of how to finish my sentence, I give up on it and attempt to head out of the room for the second time.

            "Flo!" Jake shouts; now more annoyed.

            I pause in my tracks, squeezing my eyes shut in annoyance. When I open then, I find Jake staring cautiously back at me, his jaw clenched and his facial expression as hard as rock.

            "Lucy, why don't you go take a shower?" Jake says, loud enough for the blonde - whom I now know is called Lucy - to hear.

            However, he doesn't look at her when he says this. Instead, his eyes stick to mine, as if to study me. It's hard to tell in this dimness, but he's now wearing a look of confusion and puzzlement as his eyes examine me further.

            Hesitant, Lucy looks from Jake and back to me. But when Jake says nothing else, she eventually she gets the hint and stands up from the bed to pace her way to what I guess is the en-suite bathroom – she takes the bed sheets with her, which are wrapped around her skinny body.

            "What are you doing here?" He asks, coldly.

            "I was invited." I reply, just as sharp.

            "By who?"

            "Why does it matter?"

            "It's my party, this is my place, and you're trespassing." Jake states.

            I burst out with a laugh. "Oh come on, you've got to be kidding." I throw my head back in disbelief at how childish he's being.

            "Oh, you think I'm joking? I can call security to escort you out, if you want." Jake says back, icily.

            My mind flashes back to the image of the beastly man who Aiden and I saw at the door. "Call security? Seriously?" I raise my eyebrows at Jake. He must be having a laugh.

            This is not the Jake I used to know. Not the easy-going, laid back, jokey Jake.

            He shakes his head, giving me a tired yet angered look. "What the fuck are you doing here, Flo?" He queries. "Are you purposely trying to piss me off?"

            Maybe. "No."

            "Then what?" He asks, waiting for an answer.

            His eyes, his great blue eyes are burning into mine.

            "I came 'cos I was invited. And now I'm leaving, so if you don't mind." I finish, turning on my heel.

            "Flo!" He shouts for the third time.

            Sighing, I bow my head before glancing over my shoulder.

            "What?" I respond, bluntly.

            "Stop bloody running away for once, would you?" He tells me, rather harshly, his teeth gritted.

            Momentarily, I smile bitterly. "Shut up, Jake. You know what, just shut up." I bite, turning fully to face him. "You don't know a single thing, so shut the fuck up."

            He takes me in for a split second, properly studying my eyes, my facial features, even my hair, before returning to my pupils.

            "You're drunk." He states.

            I say nothing.

            "You know, I wouldn't go too heavy on the alcohol this time around, Flo. We all know what happened last time when you got a little too drunk."

            Thank you, thank you very much Jake, for reminding me of a night that I drink so very often to forget about. Thanks. Really, I appreciate it.

            "Fuck off." I spit, looking at him with a face full of disgrace.

            My heads spinning, my hearts thumping, I don't want to be here anymore. Just looking at him is bringing back memories that I hoped I was over already. Memories that I didn't think mattered to me anymore.

            "You fuck off, you're in my apartment." He snaps, eyes narrowed.

            This really, really hurts.

            "That's what I'm trying to do." I say, blankly. I can't let him know that I'm at all affected by his vulgar words.

            Before, he used to tell in a split second if I was the slightest bit hurt, or if something was wrong. I wonder if he still has that ability now. But, by the horridly venomous look plastered on his face, I doubt it.

            You really have changed, Jake.

            This time, I block out any comment that he says back to me, and walk out of his bedroom, down the stairs, through the crowds, ignoring every eye that sneaks into my vision, and get the heck out of this apartment. It's a blur, because even when I enter the elevator, it takes a good few minutes for me to actually press the ground level button.

            All I can think about is his eyes - his unsympathetic, cold eyes.

—————

Hello everyone!

So, it's been a while, because obviously this isn't my priority at the moment, but I managed to write this chapter up. It took me all of yesterday and today to actually finish, so I hope you like it. I know at the moment, it's a little slow, but it's just the start - the secrets will start to unfold soon enough :')

Thank you for the never ending support, it really motivates me! And how do you like Flo and Jake so far? To be completely honest, Flo is my favourite character out of all of them, she has such a strong personality in my mind, even though she's been through a lot (which you guys will find out about shortly ;).

Have a lovely day!

Stay beautiful,

Indie xoxo

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