disclaimer: the lads own themselves.
TWELVE - TAKEAWAY SECRETS
And the nights are so long without you
And the days speed up,
My god I just can't lose you now
But things are about to change
As Lauren had predicted, I did sleep through my alarm. When I woke, I found myself in my bed, even though I recalled having last been in the living room, but didn't think much of it. When I got to work really late, I simply explained to my boss that I had been with the band late into the night, and she was fine with it.
The rest of the week, I worked on writing up the article and review that would be in the next issue of the magazine. When I arrived home from work on Friday evening, Lauren was running around like a chicken with its head cut off, getting ready for her date with her long-time boyfriend, Joshua. After a few mishaps – involving missing shoes and my having forgotten about the date – he arrived. When I came back from my room after a few minutes to find them still snogging in the slightly open door, I broke them up, reminding them that they were going to be late.
About an hour after Lauren and Josh had headed out, my stomach began to let me know that it was hungry. I had decided not to make any plans for the evening, which wasn't usual for me, but I didn't exactly feel like calling any of my mates and finding out what they were up to. Plus, I figured it was as good a time as any to catch up on some of the movies Lauren had told me about that she "highly recommended", but that I just hadn't had a chance to watch – I was either at work or out doing something for work, or was doing something with some of my mates – but had wanted to.
After throwing some of our communal laundry – being practically the same size as your roommate and best friend means that we can share a lot of our clothes, which also means we do a lot of each other's laundry – into a machine downstairs, I decided to put one of the movies from the stack Lauren had given me just that morning.
None of this was my usual Friday night, but like I've already mentioned, I didn't feel like calling any of my mates. And also, Lauren and I were rather in need of some clean clothing – I mean, I had had to dig around our flat in order to just find something clean to wear to work that morning.
Lauren was sometimes into the classic, blockbuster hits, but that wasn't what kind of movie the one I was currently watching. It was kind of weird, but that was what the kind of films Lauren adored. And while it was weird, I knew it would get better – all the movies Lauren recommended – especially highly – ended up being good.
When I was finished both the laundry and watching the film, I declared that Lauren had been right – yet again – and it had had been well worth the watch. It was an offbeat romantic story, and I had come to find myself rooting for the guy who had started out as the villain of the story – he had turned out to be the guy that the end hinted the girl would get together with after the credits rolled by the way they had become such close friends. I knew there were other films with similar ideas to their plots, but the way this one had been done made me like it over the others – that, and the actors were really good – if not pretty good looking… not to be superficial or anything.
After putting our now-clean clothing away, I opted for not going back into Lauren's and my disgusting, way-past expiration date refrigerator and pulled open the drawer we kept all the takeaway menus in. After finding a food style I felt like eating – Indian; I suddenly really wanted something spicy – and deciding what on the menu I wanted, I picked up the phone and placed an order.
I quickly changed into something a little less work-oriented and a little more casual before heading out to go pick up my order from the little takeaway shop a couple blocks away from the building.
I must have been lost in my thoughts as I made my way down the block, because the next thing I knew I had missed a call on my mobile. I checked to see if whoever had just called had left a voicemail message, and since they did, I quickly listened to it.
"Hey Darey," Robert's, the bloke I had been dating for the last couple months, voice came through the speaker, "sorry I keep missing you. It feels like all we do any more is play telephone tag, hey? Miss you, and I wish you were there now so I could properly hear your voice – not just by way of your voicemail message. I hate having to go out of town for work. I'll see you on Monday. Bye, love."
Robert might have been my sort-of-boyfriend for the last six weeks or so, but the fact that I hadn't actually talked to him in about five days and hadn't seen him in even longer didn't bother me in the slightest. When we had first started, I had loved seeing him a couple times a week – like a somewhat healthy relationship – but as the weeks wore on, I became more aware that we weren't exactly compatible with each other as much as either of us would have liked. Since I hadn't been all that interested in being in a relationship with him much longer, I planned on breaking it off with him the next time I saw him – if I had to be broken up with, I would rather he did it in person, so I preferred to break up with a guy in person, rather than over the phone.
As I walked into the Indian takeaway shop, my mobile was just about to go to voicemail when I realised it was vibrating in my hand. I quickly pressed the 'talk' button and pressed it to my ear. Before I even got a chance to say 'hello', the person was already speaking.
"Angelica, Angel-Baby, I had a lot of fun last night," the person on the other end began. There would have been more, but I cut him off.
"Robert? Is that you?" I quickly pulled the mobile away, checking the caller-ID. Sure enough, the screen read his name. That…that scum! "H-how could you?" As much as I tried otherwise, I couldn't fight the gasp that was escaping through my words. "You know what?" I said, trying again, this time confidence clear in every word, "Don't bother. We're finished, don't call me, don't come over, don't even look at me if you see me." Before he was able to say anything in response, I had already hung up on him.
Heading into the Indian takeaway place, I tried to steal myself against the tears that were threatening to come. I didn't really know why I was crying over it, but maybe it was because this hadn't been the first time a boyfriend – or sort of boyfriend – had cheated on me. And maybe it was just the prerogative of the matter at hand – when you break up with your boyfriend, you simply cry about it, especially when they've hurt you.
I managed to contain my tears until after I had my dinner and was headed out of the small shop. As I was about to push through the door, that all changed.
"Dara? Adara Palmer?" I heard the somewhat familiar voice from next to me just as the tears started to spill. Looking up at the owner of the voice revealed who I had thought it was: Tom Fletcher. "Are you alright, Dara?"
Dara was the name that Tom had decided to give me on the ride home on Wednesday night. No one had ever tried shortening my name that way, and I rather liked it – it kind of reminded me of a pretty flower. And I surely liked it a lot better than Darey, since that made me feel like products that came from a cow – you know… dairy?
I had looked away when he asked that question because, honestly, I didn't know. Sure, I had just found out that my boyfriend had been cheating on me for only who knows how long. But I had wanted to break it off with him anyways, so maybe it was all for the best. I wasn't sure.
Nonetheless, when I looked back up at him, all the emotions of the last ten minutes hit at a go, and he pulled me into his arms, rubbing calming patterns up my back. He only released me when I pulled away, apologising for my outburst.
I waited while he quickly collected what he had come for – his own dinner – and then he joined me on my walk down the block.
"So, what're your plans for this evening?"
"A boring evening in. My mate has insisted that I watch some of her favourite films, so I thought I'd work on the massive stack," I replied, smiling up at him as I thought about the fact that just a couple days earlier, he had explained – during the interview – some of his love of movies, both known and slightly obscure.
"Oh, that doesn't sound boring. Not at all," he replied, a small smile overtaking his face, showing off the dimple on his cheek. "I was just planning on going home and eating this in the dark."
"What?" I laughed. "Tell you what: I'll supply the entertainment. You supply the venue."
There was a brief pause. "I think I know just the place."
song: down down down by charlie simpson.