Painful Pleasures

It is what it is

CHAPTER2

05:00am.

There was something about that particulartime.

The way it glared with its red light frommy digital clock, the way it reminded me that my night was over...when it hadbarely begun.

The way it was stuck between day andnight...but the night was over and the day has started but hasn't started. Thetime between silent dreams and awakening reality and more than anything Iwanted to exist in this time alone that barely existed.

The weekend is over and I know I can't liein bed forever...even though somehow, I had survived crying myself to sleep andtrying to hide away from reality in bed.

I had lectures today...I had to move.

I turn to look at the clock now and it read05:01am and even though I should have expected it, the time broke my heart allover again.

29 minutes later and I am still staring atthe ceiling as I had been all night after trying without result to fall asleep.

But all I could conjure was friday...

'Jay went home to see me? But this is asurprise visit, I didn't tell him I was coming over.'

'He probably just guessed since the two ofyou have been meeting all week.' Mrs Davidson had said, eyes studying me withconcern... like I was nuts.

'All week? But this is my first timevisiting this semester....'

"Urgh!" I groaned and pressed myhands on both sides of my temples, willing the memories to vanish.

I had been so stupid.

Maybe it hurts because I really should haveseen it coming, but I didn't. Even as I stood up and took a shower, even as Istood in front of the mirror and packed my pitiful hair into a tight ponytail.

How could I have seen it coming?

How?

'You have this radiant beauty when you'vegot this innocent ponytail look going on'

Jay's voice is all I can hear, and I can'tbrush out the facts that I have doubts. That I can still feel his fingerstouching my face, my hair.

The look in his eyes.

Jay loves me. I know it. I know he willnever do this to me on purpose...right? Starting in different universities issomething we are both getting used to and he just got tempted along the way. Heprobably hasn't called to apologize because he feels guilty.

I can't help the brief rush of excitementthat I feel, knowing I've figured this all out.

It will be fine, it just has to. That isthe only way this entire charade can make plausible sense... it's just a phasethat will brush over and we'll get through this...

We have to.

As I make my way to the Starbucks cafe justoutside the dorm, I feel more than confident.

Jay will call me.

I'll forgive him.

And then we can put this entire situationbehind us.

The cafe smells of coffee, berries andcaramel and I never want to leave. The place is barely full and I quickly orderoatmeal chocolate chip cookies and caramel expresso Frappuccino.

Taking the booth by the window, I open thelid to my cup when I noticed the big, black book at the far end of the table.It was huge and had a thick, black leader cover. As I pulled it close to me, Irealised it had a lock and life like vines that twisted around the cover,making seem like and ancient journal of secrets.

Scanning my fingers over the cover, curiositygets the better of my and I take my hairpin and pop the lock within a minute,silently thanking the boy at camp that taught me this trick years ago.

G R I F F I N.

It was beautifully and eerily spelt orrather drawn out in precise 3 dimensional perspective with life like vinespoking and twisting round every corner.

I turned the page and was mesmerized by thedrawing of the strong, mythical creature...the griffin. A hybrid of the lionand eagle.

The next page held the drawing of ashadowed figure of a man in a hoodie with only the sharp, blazing eyesprominent, filled with so much anger, pain and intelligence.

Beneath the drawing was a poem;

The world corrupt, the sun blackened,

Intelligent liars with weapons sharpened,

Equality the throne, justice the crown,

Truth untold and to promises we frown,

Until a new sprout, until the sunbrightens,

Then light the red flower on the justice tobe enlightened.

"How beautiful." I whispered asmy fingers ran over the fine calligraphy of handwritten words.

"What the hell do you think you'redoing?"

The booming male voice snapped and I shutthe book with trembling guilt.

"I'm sorry,... I--"

"The hell you are." He snappedand snatched the book from my weak grasp, forcing me to look up at him.

He had slick, black messy hair of thicklocks with the sides shaved, like he had been running his hands through it. Hewas wearing a white t shirt with black jacket and his sharp, grey eyes werespitting fire.

"How the hell did you open it?"He demanded, studying the book like he was looking for stains or scratches.

"I..um..." I muttered, toyingwith my hairpin and he glared at me.

"You think this is some sort of amystery book that you can probe anyhow,"

His insolence is irritating. What was hisproblem anyway? The work was beautiful and I didn't see a single secretiveaspect, so why was he getting so worked up?

Looking at him now, I doubted he was theowner of all that art and if I had the thought of complimenting it, that shiphas long sailed.

"I said I was sorry, alright?" Isay to him now, annoyed.

"Yeah, you can go ahead and shoveit." He said and snapped the lock in place.

Getting up, I stood up to his face eventhough he was at most a feet taller, I say,

"And you can quit throwing tantrumsover a drawing diary." and with that, I stormed out.

***

Call me Jay. Please, just call me.

I'd been sitting in the library for over 30minutes now with my laptop displaying my email account in front of me, while Iscrolled through my phone for past calls and messages.

Nothing.

No recent texts or messages.

No emails or DM's.

No IM's.

Nada.

I felt my heart quicken in pace as thebuilding reality pounded on my subconscious to accept it.

But deep down, I am almost sure that thingswill sort out.

It has to.

It just has to.

Jay is my first boyfriend and we've beentogether for 3 years...it won't just crumble now.

It can't.

Do I call him?

"Problem?" An old lady asks asshe stood well above me, holding a stack of books.

"I think the Wi-Fi signal isout."

It has to be the Wi-Fi.

"It gets unstable here dear. Why don'tyou come back later and I'll alert the works department."

As I listen to the old lady's words, I wantto throw a tantrum and wail in tears.

I can't wait any longer.

I just want my Jay back.

"Yes, ma'am." Is all I sayas I pack my stuff and leave, phone in hand.

Suddenly my phone buzzed and as I eagerlylooked at the screen, I could practically feel the blood rush out of my face asI recognized the caller ID.

Mum.

No. No way, she does NOT get to do this tome again. She does not get to waltz in and take over my situation andarrange the puzzle prices in her idea of 'solving' it.

I pulled out my inhaler from my pocket,stuffed it in my mouth and squeezed while I stared at the phone screen, wishingfor the name to vanish.

I pocketed my phone and grabbed the pillarfor support when the call ended.

"April, are you alright?" Irecognize Gretchen's voice before I see her rushing towards me from across thefield.

"You look like you've seen aghost." She says, grasping my face in her hands and for the life of me Iwill never understand why she cares so much...or if this is just another faceof pity.

"I'm just a little tired."

"Have you had anything to eat?"

I shake my head slowly and before I knowit, Gretchen is leading me across the field towards the restaurant just outsidethe school's premises.

"I'm not hungry." I say defiantlyas I try yo pull away from her grasp but she only held on tighter and turned toface me.

"April, it's 2 o clock in theafternoon. You fainted yesterday and you haven't had a bite all day. You'reeating lunch with me whether you want to or not."

Within a few minutes, we are seated at therestaurant and Gretchen has already placed our orders.

I look at my phone one more time: 3 missedclass from mum and nothing from Jay. Sighing defeated, I dropped the phone onthe table and covered my face with my hands.

"You've been staring at your phone allday, what could you be expecting that has got you so worked up?"

Gretchen asks and as she grabs my phone.

"It's nothing." I mutter.

Our chicken sandwiches and salad came acouple of minutes later and as I grabbed my fork, my phone buzzes in Gretchen'shands.

"Please just shut it off. The lastperson I want to talk to is my mum."

Gretchen frowned and stared closely at thescreen,

"But it's not your mum calling, it'ssome guy called Jay."

And my fork dropped.