Finding Evan (18 page)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

FEBRUARY

NESS

“You need to eat more. You’ve lost weight.”

I look up, and Ollie frowns at me as he sits opposite with his tray of food.

“I am eating,” I retort, too defensively. Cafe 7 is packed with lunchtime bodies, and the smell of fried food hangs in the air. Ollie's plate is piled high with chips and a burger.

He wrinkles his nose and looks at my half-eaten sandwich. “Sure you are.” Ollie tucks into his chips.

Back at uni, I've thrown myself back into studying, to replace the Evan-emptiness with evenings of study. I’m surprised when I don’t hear from him again.
But I guess I ignored his text at New Year’s, so my signals were clear. But if fixing things was important, he would try to speak to me. He doesn’t. Not even a drunken encounter outside the med school, or a surprise visit at home. When he doesn’t, I decide he’s given up more easily than I expected. This hurts. But who can blame him? It’s what I told him to do.

Abby gives up pushing me to talk things over with Evan, and accuses me of being exactly like him: hiding from my true feelings because they’re too hard to cope with. Accusing me of immaturity because I won’t make the first move and speak to him. I point her in the direction of the psychology department, suggesting she changes courses.

I have to pull Evan out of my head and replace him with common sense. I’m twenty. I’m at uni, and I don’t need a complicated relationship with a screwed up guy. Even if he is Evan. Okay, so maybe I'm immature, but how many people around me are in hardcore relationships like this? I go over the year-and-a-bit I’ve known him in my mind, the fuck ups and complications. Since summer ended, we’ve headed this way. But why does my heart not agree with my head?

“You’re pale too. Are you okay?” asks Ollie.

“Fine.”

Ollie arches an eyebrow in a way that comments ‘I don’t think you are’.

Six weeks since Christmas, and since I’ve seen Evan, but annoyingly, he’s still with me. I didn’t eat a lot for a few weeks, but the vague nausea doesn’t leave, stomach filling with acid every time something reminds me of Evan. I won’t walk past the gym anymore, and have become more attached to the med school than ever before.

“Love sucks.”

It’s my turn to raise an eyebrow. Ollie has never commented on my spilt with Evan, even though he’s aware we’re not together anymore.

“Sure does.” I sip my latte.

“She never came back.”

His girlfriend. Why is he talking to me about this? “She’s still in Australia?”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry.”

He shrugs. “Thought I’d say. So you know I understand how you feel.”

“Thanks. But I try not to think about what happened. I’m trying to move on.”

Ollie picks at his chips and offers me one. I shake my head. “You know that’s not true, right?”

I pause, coffee cup short of my mouth. “What do you mean?”

“You. You love him, so you can’t move on.”

“And you?”

“Same. But I’m not starving myself.”

“I’m not! I’m eating,” I retort. “I just don’t have much appetite.”

“Ness, you look ill. You should see a doctor.”

“It’s the break-up,” I mutter.

“If the break-up is still affecting you after six weeks, maybe you should reconsider whether you want to move on.”

“You’ve changed your tune,” I reply. “You don’t even like him.”

“No, I said he looked hard work and you couldn’t fix him. Have you seen him recently?”

“Not since Christmas.”

Ollie makes a small noise in his throat. “You never talked things through? That’s pretty childish. And look what is happening to you!”

“It’s not just me! There were two of us in the relationship!”

“And has he tried to call you?”

“Texted.”

“And you called him back?”

“No.” As I speak, I
realize how immature I sound, especially talking to someone like Ollie.

“Why not?”

Evan isn’t the only one who hasn’t changed their behavior. The expression on Ollie’s face indicates how childish he thinks I’m being, and confirms to me I am. If Evan means so much, why am I not pushing past the hurt and trying to fix this? I rub my head. Because I’m confused, I don’t know if I do want to fix something that’ll get broken again.

Ollie holds his hands up. “Okay, none of my business, I know. But I don’t like seeing a good friend hurting. And sick.”

“Actually, I am going to see the doctor this afternoon.”

“Good.”

Late January I panicked when my period never arrived, I almost took a pregnancy test, but luckily I started bleeding. I think the stress and lack of food delayed things, but I’d spent two days cycling in my head what I’d do if I were. What I’d say to Evan, because we’d have to talk then. Maybe the paleness and nausea comes from the fact I’m still bleeding some days. Because this has been happening for a few weeks, and Abby has started nagging, I’ve booked a trip to the doctor this afternoon. I had endometriosis through my teens and managed to get the condition under control. The bleeding and back pain suggests it’s not anymore. Great.

We continue our meal in silence. Well, Ollie eats his chips, and I force myself to finish the sandwich to make a point. I study Ollie. Does he hurt as I do? A strange part of me is angry someone could break the heart of this gentle guy. I’ve been too caught up in myself to notice if he’s behaved differently and decide he copes in his quiet, Ollie way.

“Well, big brother, I’m going. See you in class.” I stand.

Ollie watches me through narrowed eyes. “What’s wrong with looking out for my friends?”

“Looking out for versus lecturing. You tread a fine line, Ollie.”

“Okay, Ness. Let me know if you need any more brotherly advice.” I can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or genuine.

***

NESS

I can’t get to the surgery toilets quick enough. Slamming the stall door open and shut, I lock the door with trembling hands and rest against the cubicle, fighting the bile rising in my throat.

I can’t. I vomit the sandwich I forced myself to eat earlier into the toilet and stagger back, sweat cooling on my back.

Pregnant.

Not true. I’d know by now.

The pink lines on the test the doctor gave me haven’t gone anywhere. I stare at the plastic item again for a moment, hoping they’ll disappear.

How?

Why?

I should cry, scream, something, but I feel nothing. Have I suspected all along and denied this? Letting myself out of the stall, I splash cold water on my face. Pale-faced Ness, with dark shadows under her frightened eyes looks back. There I was, hoping the endometriosis wasn’t coming back, and now I’d give anything for the symptoms to have been that.

Evan.

What the hell do I do? Tell him? Wait until I’ve decided what I’m going to do about the pregnancy? Question after question crashes into my mind.

One thing I do need is an answer. How did this happen? And how fucking stupid we still relied on condoms because I never got around to
organizing something more reliable.

I shove the paperwork for blood tests and hospital appointments into my bag, along with the pregnancy test. Making my way out of the building, I sit on the low wall outside until the nausea and dizziness subsides enough to walk away.

As I walk along, I stare down at the ground, fighting the desire to slump down and cry. What do I do now? Home. Go home. Talk to Abby. Maybe. I don’t know if I want to talk to anyone about this. I can fix this. Tears hit as the realization seeps through a little more.

“Ness?”

Fucking great. I look over and Ollie sits on a bench near the library. I frown at him. “Are you stalking me?”

“No. Sort of, I guess. Abby asked me to.”

“Abby?”

“We’re worried about you. I told her you were going to the doctors and she wanted me to wait and check if you were okay.”

Instead of being happy my friends care about me, irritation sparks. How much do they talk about me? “I’m fine.”

“Then why do you look worse than when I saw you before?”

I can’t do this. I don’t want him here. I don’t even want to see Abby. All I want to do is go home, crawl into bed, and wake up with this nightmare gone. The doctor says the bleeding is unusual. He sent me for a scan, so I should go home and make an appointment. Going to hospital, scans – they’d make the pregnancy real. And this would make one of the choices I have harder.

“I just…it doesn’t matter. Call Abby. Tell her I’ll see her later.”

As I start to walk away again, I stumble, and Ollie rushes over to me in alarm. “I’ll drive you home.”

“No!” I throw his arm from mine, sucking in air. “I want to be on my own!”

A shadow crosses Ollie’s face. “What did the doctor say?”

“None of your business!”

“Right, come over here and sit down. I’m calling Abby. You can’t drive like this!” He maneuvers me towards the wall, and in an attempt to get his hands off me, my bag flies off my shoulder.

I haven’t zipped the bag, and the contents fly across the pavement. I slump onto the wall, and Ollie kneels down to gather up my belongings. His hand hovers over the white plastic item, and he stares for a few seconds. I jump up and snatch the pregnancy test off the ground. The test I kept, as if taking the thing home would make the line telling me I’m pregnant disappear.

For a long time, Ollie doesn’t speak, and I close my eyes. So much for hiding this.

“You need to tell Evan.”

Snapping my eyes open, I meet Ollie’s look. His hardened features surprise me. If anything, I’d expect him to be sympathetic.

“I don’t know…I…”

Ollie stands and looks down at me. “I’ll find Abby. But promise me you’ll tell Evan.”

“That’s up to me!” I haven’t even thought through the telling Evan side of this.

Ollie runs his hand through his hair and studies my face. “Grow up, Ness.”

I reel from his words.

He doesn’t take his eyes off me. “If it was me, I’d want to know.”

Something in the quiet tone of his voice and intensity of his look suggests why. Someone didn’t tell him.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

EVAN

A text from Ness?

Six weeks and no contact. This is the first I’ve heard from her since Christmas.

‘Can u call me?’
Typical Ness style - to the point.

My first thought: why the fuck don’t you call me? After freezing me out each time I attempted to contact her, now this?

The aching emptiness she left behind deadened everything I ever felt for her. I vowed not to let someone get access to my heart again and buried Ness into the ever expanding box of ‘shit I can’t deal with’ in my mind. Ness’s text breaks the seal. All the memories seep out, and my mending heart comes apart.

Why? Has she changed her mind on a whim?

I don’t call. I chicken out and text.

‘I’ll talk in person. When and where?’

Minutes later.

‘Can I come over? Seven?’

‘Yes.’

At least this gives me time to process the surprise. And figure out how to tell Ness she ripped my heart out and stomped on the pieces, so there’s nothing left for her anymore.

***

Seven pm on the dot. So Ness. I hear her car pull up, and the re-boxed emotions try to escape. My dreams and daydreams have been full of memories of our time together. Despite temptation on my many drunken nights out, I haven’t bothered getting another girl to replace the empty space in my bed. I came close a couple of times, but every time, Ness would appear in my mind and I couldn’t do it. Matt still does the one-night stands a lot, and when I see the screaming
fallout from his experiences, this also puts me off going back there. Staying clear of girls full stop is the answer. I’m never falling for someone again. So, somehow, I’ll always be Ness’s. Dad has the right idea: women are trouble.

When she comes inside, she doesn’t look like the same Ness. I’m shocked by how pale she is; her green eyes framed by dark smudges and dull. And she’s skinny. Those beautiful curves disappearing. Ness doesn’t smile, or really look at me, just dips her head and sits on the sofa. Arms by my side, I fight the desire to hold this fragile looking Ness. Seeing her in this state sickens me; did I do this?

“Is Matt home?” she asks, voice quiet.

“He’s out tonight.”

“Good.”

“Do you want a drink?”

Ness shakes her head and stares at the floor. Her hands tremble and she sits on them.

I give in and sit next to her. “Are you okay? Has something happened?”

All the prepared speeches about what she's done to me, how over-the-top her reaction was, and how she can’t snap her fingers and expect me back melt away when she turns her gaze to mine. Strong, confident Ness’s eyes are brimming with tears, and her mouth is turned down. I can’t fight with this Ness.

“Ness? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know how to tell you this,” she whispers.

With those words, she doesn’t need to. There’s only one reason a girl would suddenly decide to find the guy she told to fuck off and never darken her door again.

She says them anyway.

“I’m pregnant, Evan.”

Eyes fixed on each other, we search for answers, trying to see into hidden thoughts. But the barrier between us stops any chance. Silent tears spill down her reddened cheeks, and I don’t know what she wants me to do. To say. Should I hug her? Tell her everything will be okay? Because everything is not fucking okay. Eventually, I get up and walk into the kitchen.

I’m not sure how long I rest against the kitchen bench studying my shoes before Ness appears. She hangs in the doorway, watching me warily. I have so many questions racing through my mind. My tight chest restricts my breathing, and I’m trapped. Literally.

“What are you going to do?” I ask.

“I only found out yesterday. I don’t know. But I thought you should know.”

“Thanks.”

The conversation halts. After weeks of not speaking, the words dry up more readily than usual. She’s had time to get her head around this, maybe not much time, but more than me. Pregnant. Baby. Fuck. The world just took a huge step into the surreal. I need time to process this before I open my mouth and say the wrong thing.

Ness folds her arms across her chest. “So, I should go?”

I blink. “Why?”

“You obviously don’t want to talk about this. I understand.” Her voice croaks as she turns from me.

“I do. But I don’t know what to say. What you want to hear.”

A frowning Ness turns back to me. “I don’t want to hear anything apart from how you really feel. I don’t want you saying anything you don’t mean.”

“To be honest, I’m in shock.”

“Yeah, this is a bit of a surprise to me too.” There’s a sad bitterness in her voice.

I don’t want to go into how this happened, because I think I’d get the blame. Christmas Eve. I don't think we used a condom. I meant to check with Ness the next day, and with everything that happened, it slipped my mind. Why didn’t I think at the time? I don’t fucking know. Alcohol. Lust. Surprise at the suddenness and intensity. Ness obviously doesn’t remember. I’m a fucking idiot.

“Fuck!” I cover my face and close my eyes, hoping the darkness is gone when I open them.

When I do, Ness has paled further. Hesitantly, I cross the kitchen and stop just in front of her. So close, the memories of every time we tangled in bed, or sat together on the sofa and kissed flood back. The girl who made the sun shine brighter.

“I’m here for you, Ness,” I say softly, “if you’ll let me help.”

Her tears start again, and I wipe them away with my finger. Alarmingly, this causes more to flow, and I give in. I grab Ness, pull her to me, and bury my nose into her familiar, soft hair.

I take a breath and say what I intended to keep hidden. How I feel. “I don’t know what happened between us. I don’t understand why we’re in the place we are now. But I love you. I never stopped loving you, and I don’t think I ever will. I’ll do everything you need me to.”

Ness’s body shakes with sobs and she relaxes into my chest, figure crumpling against me. This isn’t Ness. Her strength has gone and she’s lost. But she came to find me.

***

NESS

The day after I tell Evan, I call the hospital and book the scan. Allow the reality of my new future into my life. Despite Evan’s words last night, the lost confusion returned to his eyes and I decided to leave him to process things. I don’t think either of us really knew what to say; Evan held me for a while, but we barely spoke. In the end, Matt came home and I had to leave. I didn’t feel well and couldn’t cope with anyone else knowing right now. Leaving was awkward; Evan hesitated at the door, and I think he wanted to kiss me, but instead, he gave me one last hug and kissed the top of my head. I don’t know what we want from each other, what he wants from me, but there’s so much more to talk about. Trust to be found.

I don’t go to class. Partly, I feel too ill, the sickness and dizziness intensifying with the lack of sleep. Abby hovers around, avoiding asking me questions I don’t want to answer, but informing me I did the right thing telling Evan.

But where do we go from here?

The Evan who arrives on my doorstep today looks like he had as little sleep as I did. The haunted look is back, but Lucy didn’t cause it this time. I step back awkwardly as he walks inside, avoiding his hug. I don’t know how I feel about this. Us.

“Thanks for coming over,” I say.

Evan sits on the sofa, dangling his hands between his knees. I move to the armchair opposite and study him. “I’m sorry, Evan.”

He frowns at me. “Why sorry? It’s not like you chose this.”

How can I tell him this isn’t what I’m apologizing for? That I’m saying sorry for the last few weeks. Since last night, I’ve questioned why I let this go on for so long. I pause, hoping he has something similar to offer me – an explanation or attempt to resolve things. But looking into his drawn face, I can see only one thing is on his mind. The pregnancy. Now isn’t the time to discuss this.

“Okay,” I say in the end.

“Ness, I said I’d help you out. And I mean it. Just tell me whatever you need from me.”

You
,
a voice screams in my head, but I push that Ness away again. He can’t give himself to me; he’s tried and failed. This isn’t what should bring us together. This forces us together. This is Evan, isn’t it? The guy who helps people out when they need.

I stand. “Can we go out somewhere? I can’t stay in the house, but I don’t feel up to class. Somewhere we can talk.”

Evan smiles, eyes brightening. Because I said I wanted to spend time with him? “I know where we can go.”

We drive across the city; the whole time my traitorous body is aware of Evan’s closeness. Despite the fear and nausea, being next to him again fuels the desire to be in his arms. I know this is more than needing his help; this is opening up to my stupid self who rejected this guy. Throughout the journey, he repeatedly glances at me, or squeezes my hand, or both.

“You don’t look well, Ness.”

I don’t know how pregnant women are supposed to look, but glowing isn’t a word I’d apply to myself. I’m not sure if the shock of the news has made things worse, or if I’m getting the flu, because I feel worse than ever.

“I have a hospital appointment in a couple of days. They can check me out then.” Evan nods and I take a deep breath. I’m not sure I know how far I can go with this: him, babies, any of the nightmare. I definitely can’t have this conversation when he’s paying attention to the road. So I stay silent until we reach the car park.

The car
tires crunch over the gravel, and I’m not surprised by where we are. I knew he’d take me to either the mill town or Roundhay Park. Tropical World.

“I didn’t think you looked up to going far, so I brought us here.”

This is so Evan. He’s trying, trying hard to reconnect us to a happier time. Maybe wanting to see me is more than the obligation over the pregnancy. I unclip my seatbelt and shift in my seat, the aching in my back stabbing.

“We should talk about what I’m going to do.”

“We?” At least his tone is hopeful and not disappointed.

“About the ‘we’. I’m involving you, Evan, but this is my decision. It’s not as if we’re in a stable relationship. Or any position to have a baby.”

Evan pales. “You’ve already decided?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

“I need some air,” I say and open the car door.

The February breeze hits my face, cooling the growing perspiration on my forehead. I should’ve stayed at home. Squinting at the sun, I turn to Evan, who walks around the car towards me.

“We can be,” he says.

“Can be what?”

“Together?” Evan takes my hand and rubs the back with his thumb.

I slump against the car. “We’re not getting back together just because I’m pregnant.”

Evan rests next to me, and I remember the hug last night. The aching need for him not to let go. Evan smells of the happiness we shared, his jacket open across the muscled chest he held me close to day after day.

“I never wanted to split up. So getting back together wouldn’t be for that reason. Not for me,” he says.

“Let’s not go there now. I can’t talk about this. I don’t feel well.”

“I think we should. Be mature about this, because we’re in a pretty mature situation here. Stop pushing me away again.” His determined voice surprises me, but he’s right.

“Okay.”

He shifts sideways, leaning against the door. “First, I need to talk to you about Christmas.”

I inhale and close my eyes. “That’s the past now.”

“No, it’s not. Not until you listen to me about why I went.”

"Okay, but I'm too cold to stay outside." We walk towards the entrance of the building and Evan finally gets the chance he’s waited for. To explain Christmas Day. The story of Lucy, Evan, Brandon, and Jade. He reels off the story as if he’s reading the news, and I know he’s disconnected himself from the events.

Half-way through his story, I place a hand on his arm, willing him to stop. I know this Evan better than he thinks; I can see the dusty corner of his soul he told me about last year. And in that dusty corner is a little boy. Two little boys. I finally understand.

He didn’t just go because of Lucy. The reason was so much bigger than her, and I punished him. Us. Tears fight their way into my eyes, but I’ve shed too many tears in the last two days. What did I do? I ruined this.

“I wish you’d told me this on Christmas Day,” I whisper.

“I tried. You weren’t in a listening mood.”

I pull my sleeves over my hands. “And what now? Where are they?”

“Social services. I’m not involved.” I don’t mean to, but I pull a face of surprise. “I’m not, Ness. I haven’t spoken to Lucy much since I came back to Leeds. And I’ve told her I’m done with all her shit she piles onto me.”

Tears fill my eyes again and I’m annoyed with myself. The barrier to Evan wavers; I want his help, not him. But who am I kidding? After what he just told me, I realize how over-the-top I behaved. Composing myself, I pull my purse from my bag and pay the entrance fee, hyper-aware of Evan’s eyes on me.