Friendship on Fire (47 page)

One night mid-term, Nate came into work looking ragged, yet handsome. The beaten down rogue look suited him, unsurprisingly. The visit had taken me aback so much that I stood at the register like a stunned mullet, feet nor tongue willing to move an inch. Luckily, my facial features still worked. Apparently the look on my face made my manager realise he had to tell Nate to leave, and quickly.

Even as Nate was shuffling out the door, he kept saying, quite earnestly, that he needed to talk to me. I didn't want to hear what he had to say. But I desperately did, which only added to my confusion. How could talking with him make it better for
me
? Surely it would serve merely to dredge up the past and make me feel worse.

Deep down, I had a feeling his talk would consist of trying to make me take him back, with some ultra important excuse as to why he cheated on me, and I couldn't bear that. Cheating was unforgivable. Wasn't it?

Term 3 — August

Dear Diary,

I hate feeling so messed up. I miss the happy, confident Daisy who was my signature in times past. My close friends; Shana and Sarah, are the sunshine in my life, and they have taught me to get quite good at ignoring everyone who waste my time.

Besides. This is the last term of class work, and the last real opportunity I have to pick my teachers' brains before my final exams begin next term. I need to use all the time I can get so I at least have a choice of what to do at Uni, even if I don't know what I want to do. Throwing myself into work is a great excuse to distract myself from the niggling complexities of my life.

You'd be so proud of me, diary. Each night I come home from school, if I'm not working, I study for two hours and complete assignments a few days early. I try my best to listen in class and keep out of trouble with Mr Head.

Now, before I completely destroy my reputation, there is a method in my ‘madness'. Let me just say that the importance of me having a routine to come home to is imperative; it keeps my overactive, curious brain at bay, and stops me from wanting to contact Roman or Nate or anyone else who might stress me out. No matter how embarrassed I was about what happened with Roman, it tore my heart just as much as it did with Nate to lose him, though for different reasons. To not be able to talk to my best friend, or worse, feel awkward talking to him, deserves more than distracting. It needs disciplined, time-wasting work. Like study.

It still hurts me to see Rachael at school, especial y after our phone call over a month ago, but I do think I am lucky I hadn't thrown all my eggs into her basket in the first place. I count myself blessed to have other friends at school to spend my time with, even if in the past she had been first choice.

So, by increasing my confidence with my schoolwork and other friends, I managed to convince myself that I didn't need the same things other girls identified themselves with. Sure I kept going to parties on weekends with Shana, Sarah, Linda and James, but I didn't feel the pressure to find a random guy and hook up with him. I could easily have done that. There have been a few guys who've taken an interest in me at these parties, and the girls have encouraged me to take the plunge, but I don't need it for my self esteem. I mean, the attention would be nice. And getting to know someone. They seemed like nice guys. James gave a couple of them the thumbs up, from his male intuition. I acted like they weren't my type, but wasn't being entirely honest. The truth is not something I want to broadcast: my heart can't take another disappointment at the moment, on any scale.

What if I hooked up with a guy, but he didn't call me the next day, or the next week? That alone would be disappointing for me, if not for other girls. What if I saw him getting with another girl later that night …?

Shana reckons I have ‘avoidance issues'. I know, I laughed too. According to her, I am avoiding meeting another guy in the same way that I met Nate (e.g. in a party scenario), because it would remind me acutely of him, which would lead to trust issues. She had nodded professional y then, impressed with her own observations of my life, and I laughed again. The world's worst cover is a laugh, but I tried it anyway.

Sarah told Shana I would hook up with a guy again when I missed getting some for long enough. James had shaken his head, and I was grateful to Sarah for saving me, but what if Shana was right? What if I had baggage that I would drag around with me to every situation, every guy I met from now onwards? That didn't seem fair, for him. Whoever he was. I didn't want to mess up an innocent guy by throwing my issues onto him, like Nate did to me.

I had to fight the urge to hit James up for information on Roman. Here he was, a full bottle on everything Roman  was thinking and feeling, and I couldn't steal one drop of information from him. My pride had been hurt after the last time I tried, and I knew it was useless to try again. It might plunge me into the depths of despair again. No, James would be loyal to Roman, which I couldn't hold against him. Loyalty is hard to find in friends these days.

On the bright side, I think Shana and James are becoming close, if you know what I mean. She drops hints to us about things they have done, or that they are trying to find more ‘alone' time together. It's sweet. I'm not sure how experienced she is, but she knows how I feel about getting more serious with someone. She will be more careful than I was.

Sarah can be a bit of an independent, lone sailor when it comes to boys, and she likes to be like that. She can take them or leave them. I wonder at times if it's a wall she puts up, or if she has a mil ion times more confidence than I do. I'm getting used to being strong by myself again, slowly, but I hope one day I can be half as happy as Shana and James make each other. When Nate leaves me alone enough to move on with my life and forget all about him, that is.

Yes, that will be the answer to my problems. Avoid Nate.

Dais xx

n Friday night, we had finished our family dinner and were chatting over chocolate and hot drinks in the lounge room, when there was a loud knock at the front door. Josh got up to get it, as I think secretly he wanted to use having a guest for us all to entertain as an excuse to disappear. Dad put up his hand.

‘I've got it,' he said sternly, straightening his back and tugging at the front of his shirt.

I frowned. Was he expecting someone? He sure didn't look happy to talk to whoever it was he'd invited over.

We waited as quiet as church mice, craning our necks to hear the conversation between Dad and the mystery guest.

‘Please,' I heard a male voice speak in a low tone.

‘Absolutely not,' Dad answered.
Poor sales boy,
I thought to myself.
You picked the wrong house to sell whatever you
are selling.
‘Nothing you can say will make me change my mind.'

‘Can you at least tell her I'm here? She might change your mind if she wants to talk to me.'

I froze. Steadying my mug on the coffee table, I rose in a trance to see for myself who was at the front door asking for me. It could only be one of two boys, and I didn't recognise the muffled voice without seeing them.

I tiptoed to the front wall, peering around it to make eye contact with the brown eyes I once loved dearly.

‘Daisy. Please, give me a few minutes.'

‘I suggest you be careful here, young man. You're already pushing it by being on my property,' Dad said in a new, menacing tone.

This couldn't keep happening. He couldn't keep showing up to my places of comfort and demanding to talk to me. I knew he wouldn't go away until he'd said his piece, so it had to be now.

‘Dad, it's OK. I'll just talk for a little while. I'll call you if I need you,' I said, rubbing his arm to soothe him.

‘I'm not happy about this,' Dad said, for the record.

I smiled at him in reassurance. ‘I'll be fine, really.'

With a final glare at Nate, Dad went back inside, and I stepped into the cold of the night.

Nate and I stood in silence for quite a long time. He had lost weight. I hadn't noticed in McDonalds the other week just how much. His hair was lighter and more unruly, and his eyes a paler brown. No matter how much he'd beaten himself up about losing me, he still looked incredibly cute, my hormones boasted, and I had to remind myself that this was the person who broke my heart not so long ago. It didn't take long to dredge up the memories. My face hardened.

‘How've you been?' he asked, digging his hands deep into his jeans pockets.

I smirked slightly but stopped myself. Sarcasm wouldn't help. ‘I don't have long Nate. Why don't you talk to me about something that's not so obvious?'

The hurt in his eyes was evident at my cheap shot, but he composed himself for his next tack. ‘OK we won't go into pleasantries then,' he said more to himself than me. ‘I've come to tell you something. My parents have finalised their divorce.'

‘Yep, and?' I didn't show it but curiosity was rising inside me.

‘I found out the real reason they have ‘irreconcilable differences',' he stated, with a tone that suggested we were still friends.

‘Yep, and?' I'd worked so hard to not be swayed by anything he had to say that my rudeness was probably too blunt.

‘Daisy …' His voice saying my name made the hairs on my neck stand up.

I shook it off. ‘No. Don't expect me to be any nicer or more interested. Say what you have to say, then leave.'

‘My dad cheated on my mum.'

His statement left only the trees whistling in the spring air. I watched his eyes fill with tears, begging me to fill in the blanks.

Understanding flooded to over-flowing point in the front of my brain and I began to feel dizzy. It was a genetic transference, then? Nature
and
nurture? My hurt was somehow caused indirectly by Nate's father? Reason flew out the window as I tried, with all my will power, not to laugh with bitterness.

Nate continued. ‘He'd done it a few times in the past, but apparently this longer affair was the last straw. Amelie and I had no idea …'

I watched his features as he talked, wrestling with himself to use more or less detail. I was struggling with the same issue. On the one hand, I wanted to slap him and tell him I hated him for turning into his dad. Especially seeing as he hated his dad's very philosophy of life. On the other hand, I felt incredibly sorry for him. It wasn't necessarily his fault. I wanted to hug him and tell him that with my help, he could be made better. My stability mixed with his need for positive moulding could fix our situation. Bury what he'd done; call it ‘misguided grooming', and move on to bigger and better things.

Trust me, it was tempting.

Taking a deep breath, I said firmly, ‘Nate, I think it's time to …'

‘Wait,' he pleaded with those brown eyes. I had to avert my eyes to something in the dark street, something much less attractive. ‘I want to make it up to you. I'd like you to give us a second chance. We'll have all the time in the world after school has finished, the whole summer. Imagine the fun we could have. You can pick my brains about anything that happened. Rachael told me you called her and I promise I'll tell you the truth about everything. You are good for me. I tried so hard to be a better person around you. Only, don't make a decision now, take a few days to think about it. Please.'