Delilah

The chewing gum in my mouth tastes stale already. I popped it in five minutes ago. I hug one knee to my chest, setting my foot down on the soft, used seat. It's probably forbidden, but who cares? I'm sure this seat has encountered much worse than the sole of my boot.

The youngish guy two rows in front of me keeps turning his head.

When he first did it, I wondered what brought him here. If he's visiting family in New York, or maybe he'll meet some friends for a short trip. Maybe he's there for work.

He doesn't look like your typical Boston kid. But maybe he doesn't live in Boston. Maybe he was actually just visiting Boston and this is his trip home now.

After he turned for the second time, trying to catch my gaze, I stopped caring and pointedly looked out of the window.

Seeing the skyscrapers rise at the horizon for the first time sent my heart into overdrive.

I haven't been in New York since last year. It was warm then, my shorts clinging to my legs, sweat smudging my make up. I still remember how it felt, having those long locks that got all stringy and disgusting in the heat and humidity.

The bus pulls up in a parking lot and stops the engine.

My heart is beating again as I wait for the youngish guy to get out first, following him.

This time, I'm not greeted by summer heat. Instead, there is a slight chill in the air that almost seems cold after the many hours curled up in a stuffy bus.

„Here you go, young lady.“

The driver hands my luggage. He's in his fifties and sports an ugly beard that can't quite hide his warm smile.

„Thanks,“ I say, giving him a smile of my own.

I bet he has a daughter. Probably more than one. I wonder how old they are – if they're still around to keep him busy or if he started early and they're already all gone.

He seems like he'd be sad to see his kids leave, but I know appearances can be deceaving. If you'd saw my parents only once for a couple minutes, you'd think they're the perfect couple too.

I grab my way too heavy suitcase and fumble out my new phone (I dropped the old one when I was hammered) and make to call a cab.

„Hey, baby.“

I turn my head and lift the phone to my ear, giving the youngish man an apologetic smile.

„Hello?“ some cab driver answers.

„Are you new to the city too?“ the youngish man asks.

I ignore him and tell the driver my location.

„No, I'm actually from here,“ I tell him after I hung up.

The man grins at me. His receding hairline follows the example.

„Great. Then maybe you could show me around?“

A fist closes around my heart.

Apparently, I use the same pickup lines as thiry-something creeps.

„I'm afraid I can't.“

„Oh, come on. Why not?“

„My brother is in the hospital,“ I say. „Heart insuffiency. It's really bad and I have to be with him.“

The man swallows.

„I'm sorry 'bout that.“

I give one wavering smile, then turn away, looking for my cab that I know hasn't yet arrived.

„I could distract you,“ he says with a bad attempt at seductive.

One of his greedy hands runs down my arm. I pull it away and give him one of my razor sharp smiles.

„I want you to leave now,“ I say.

His face changes.

„Chill out.“

I almost laugh. Those guys are all the exact same.

„I'm chill. Now be nice and leave, please.“

Finally, he does and that's when my cab arrives.

„Those are your keys. The door is a little heavy. You'll have to pull first, then push.“

I nod at my housemate, who isn't quite as pretty in real life as she portrays herself online, but still quite dashing.

„I'll head out now,“ she says.

I'm not expecting to see her all that often at the apartment.

The kitchen looks as if no one has used it in ages and the bathroom is stuffed to the brim with cosmetic products.

My own room is significantly smaller than any of my dorm rooms during the last years was, but I'll manage. There is a white closet for my clothes and a desk scrammed into a corner. The bed is small, but the mattress neither too hard nor too soft.

I open the huge window and let my gaze wander over the buzzing streets that are Brooklyn.

„Nice to be back,“ I tell the wind.

I planned to wait a week or so to get settled. Tomorrow will be my first day at the theatre and I should probably use what's left of this Sunday to unpack and relax. Maybe put on a face mask or something equally screaming Self Care.

But I'm here now. I'm in New York, I'm back and I can't wait.

It's been more than a year.

Thirteen months and one day, to be exact, since I left. Two weeks longer since I've last seen Leah.

I used to whisper her name into my pillows at Boston (once I whispered it into a Strange Girl's Boston Pillow – that did not end well), but now, I might get to say it to her face.

If she still lives in her old apartment, that is.

If not... well, I guess then I'd have to track down Caden at the community college and that could potentially get awkward.

I paint my face before I leave my new place. It's my kind of meditation, I assume.

And I also want to look good.

I usually don't worry about it much – not to sound arrogant, but I know I'm beautiful. Men and women both told me that a million times.

But today, I feel like I need my armour.

I listen to the playlist I started putting together when I left New York last summer. It's a wild mix that goes from the most mainstream Pop to Soul to Alternative with some French songs thrown into it.

Those are all the songs that remind me of Leah. It might be embarrassing to admit that the playlist has exceeded the five hour mark now.

I watch my reflection and touch my short hair. I had it cut just last week in an attempt to look exactly like I did when I left.

Which might be stupid. I don't really think I'm the same person that I was last year.

I take the subway to Leah's apartment and get lost. I've never really been in this part of Brooklyn before and I feel disoriented. For a while, I'm just walking through the streets, gazing at the people around me.

When I spot a very familiar donut shop, I up my pace.

My heart is racing in my chest now.

I almost smile at myself.

Here I am, acting like I'm sixteen again, fingers trembling as I'm pressing the doorbell. It's like diving into a déjà-vu, ascending those dark stairs, the hallway smelling faintly of smoke and unwashed clothes. Standing in front of the achingly familiar door, my heart is beating at my throat.

It opens – but it's not Leah.

„Delilah?“

Caden looks at me, completely baffled. He somehow appears taller than I remember him.

Or maybe he just gained some weight.

„Hi, Caden. Is Leah here?“

„What are you doing here?“ he asks, not stepping aside to let me in.

„Shouldn't you be in Boston?“

„I'm back.“

I try to peer around him into the apartment.

„Leah isn't here.“

„Oh. Where is she?“

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

„With May.“

He doesn't explain who May is, so I don't ask.

„Can I wait here, maybe?“

Caden hesitates.

„Why are you here?“

I probably should have expected this. I meet his eyes calmly.

„Because I miss her,“ I say and it's the truth.

He makes me wait for some more long moments, then finally steps aside.

„Be nice,“ he says and I know that he means a lot more than just being nice.

I swallow.

„Of course,“ I say.

Not much has changed since I've last been here. The wooden floor is still old and polished smooth from so many feet. It smells like coffee and laundry and – and Leah.

„She should be back soon,“ Caden tells me.

„You look good,“ I say.

„I am,“ he says and for the first time since I arrived, he smiles at me.

I've thought about him a lot. The first year after transplantation is critical and sometimes, I feared he might be dead.

But here he is, very much alive.

„How's college?“ I ask him.

„It's normal. Nice to be back.“

„I'm glad you're okay.“

Caden frowns at me. Just lightly.

He means to be nice. But he doesn't understand what I'm doing here.

Maybe no one has talked about me in this house for a year. Maybe I was wrong to think Leah missed me.

Lying slut, is what she called me when I last saw her. Whenever I think about that, I regret coming back.

But I don't think I could have stayed in Boston, either.

„I'm home,“ someone shouts.

My heart stops. It simply stops right in my chest.

Leah. That's Leah.

I get up without consciously deciding to do so. She stops the second she sees me.

We stare at each other.

It's strange – she looks exactly like I remember her and nothing like that at all.

Her angular face with those incredible cheekbones isn't quite as symmetric as my brain made it out to be. I forgot how shirts cling to her body – how elegant her torso is. Leah isn't an elegant person, but she looks like one.

„Hi,“ I say and smile at her.

It's a weird smile. There are too many emotions swirling in my chest to be done justice by a smile.

„What are you doing here?“

Leah's voice is hoarse.

I remember her calling me love. The flashback is so vivid, my knees nearly buckle.

„I'm here to see you.“

She just stares. No smile.

„I'm back, Leah.“

I take a step toward her.

It's like me calling her name made something snap inside her.

„Get out.“

„I -“

„Leave.“

My feet are frozen to the spot.

„Please, let me explain.“

„Get the hell out!“

She's yelling now. Yelling at me.

„Leah...“

A big hand settles on my shoulder and gently pushes me toward the door. Leah steps aside, not looking at me as I pass her.

„You should go,“ Caden tells me and gives me a look somewhere between pity and accusation as he closes the door in front of my face.

Leah

I concentrate on breathing, hardly feeling Caden's hands rest on my shoulder.

„You okay?“

The floor beneath my feet is swaying.

„What does she think she's doing?“

„I don't know.“

Caden pulls me close despite my struggles.

I listen to his steady heartbeat and hold on tight.

„What's she doing here?“ I whisper against my brother's chest.

One second and Delilah turns me into a stupid troll like that. Again.

„You don't have to see her again,“ he says and I nod.

„Right.“

I disentangle myself from him and smooth my hair down. His shirt is crumpled from my face, just a little.

„Will you be home for dinner tomorrow?“ I ask, trying to shake the incident like a snake would shed its old skin.

„I'm working late,“ he says.

I don't comment on it.

I'm still not a fan of Caden working – at a grocery store, of all places. Many, many possibilties to catch some virus or bacteria.

But he had been adamant.

„It's either that or having mom pay all the bills,“ he told me and I couldn't very well argue with that.

Since I've started college, my time is limited. I'm now taking shifts at another hair salon, but it's not nearly the same as it used to be.

Ten hours per week just don't cut it.

„You can eat with May,“ Caden says and I give him a sharp look.

„I think I can decide that for myself, thanks.“

He rolls his eyes.

„I'll be at Alex' for the evening,“ he says and my mouth opens.

„I thought we'd have dinner together.“

Caden tilts his head.

„Oh, sorry. I didn't know.“

„What do you mean, you didn't know? You didn't know I'd like to have dinner with you?“

Caden gives me a bewildered and, frankly, annoyed glance.

„Jesus, Leah,“ is all he says.

He leaves the apartment and me behind, shutting the door a little louder than necessary.

„And she just showed up? Just like that?“

May is staring at me incredulously, the notebook in her lap forgotten.

„Yeah. Just like that.“

It's been three days and I still can't quite believe it.

I wish I could say I've already brushed it off. But of course I haven't.

„What are you going to do?“

I scrub at a stain on my jeans.

„I don't know. Nothing, I guess.“

„It's for the best,“ May says, squeezing my leg.

I nod.

The fact that I'm sitting here with May in my apartment is astonishing enough – regarding the fact that she had to endure me at rock bottom for months.

After Delilah left, I was a mess. There's no other way to say it.

I was crying and drinking and not doing anything except making sure Caden attended his appointments at the hospital. I thought I'd known heartbreak before, when my first boyfriend broke up with me. I was seventeen back then and it felt like the world was ending.

But it was nothing compared to this.

What they say, the singers and books and movies – it's true. Hearbreak is a physical thing. Your heart feels like it would be squeezed by an iron fist that weighs down your chest and sucks the life force out of you.

I couldn't listen to any song, any at all, without thinking about her. I couldn't really eat because everything seemed to taste like nothing, glue clogging my mouth.

But just when I thought it would never end, I'd always remain stuck in that black hole, it got better.

Slowly. Gradually. But it did. I applied for colleges and suddenly, I remembered that I had a life.

My life wasn't Delilah.

My universe did not revolve around her. It was time to pick myself up and stop being pathetic.

That was about six months ago, a little longer even,

Since then, life got better. Granted, there was still that hole in my chest. It hurt especially at night, when the darkness forced its way inside me and sent my thoughts spinning.

Listening to music was still difficult – all the lyrics, written just for me. But it was okay. I laughed sometimes. Over time, I started to forget.

Not really, of course. But I stopped thinking about her all the time.

Now she's here and it feels like I'm back at square one. Everything still feels so new and fresh.

„Leah?“

I blink, May's voice ripping me out of my musings.

„Yes?“

„Do you want to come along with me to one of Chris's plays?“

„He wrote a play?“

May rolls her eyes.

„Nah, we're not there yet. But he's involved in the production. Don't ask me how exactly. And don't ask him – you'll be there all night.“

I grin.

„Noted. And yeah, sure I would.“

„Caden?“

„Hm?“

Disoriented brown eyes find mine. I scowl at him from my place at the kitchen table.

„Did you listen to me?“

„Sorry. Say it again?“

He's always on his phone lately. Always texting.

„Who are you texting? Adrian?“

Caden shoots me a look that borders on hostile.

„Seriously?“

I decide not to start an argument about this right now.

„I just wanted to let you know I'll be at the theatre tonight. With May.“

„Okay, cool. Have fun.“

His eyes return to his phone.

„Caden?“

„What?“

„We have some leftovers in the fridge and there's also cereal. I bought your favorite.“

Caden nods, hiding his impatience quite badly.

„Okay. I'll be out though anyway.“

„Out? Where?“

„Just for dinner.“

I don't miss how he's trying a tad too hard to sound casual.

„You won't be drinking, will you?“

He drops his head against the armrest of the sofa.

„No, mom.“

„This isn't funny, Caden.“

„No, it's not. You're being a bitch.“

„I'm not being -“

„I have to go.“

And with that he storms out on me.

The theatre Chris is now working at is a nice one. I like that it manages the limbo between small indie company and glamerous mainstream.

„We're sitting over there.“

Surrounded by people of any age group, the light dims and the play begins.

I'm not very big on poetry or drama or anything like that. I've read Othello in school and saw the movie to Romeo and Juliet and that's about it.

So I wouldn't say I necessarily understand what's going on, but I do find it entertaining.

Just as I'm starting to really sympathize with the main chracter, another side kick enters the stage.

My hands are gripping the flesh of my thighs hard enough to leave marks.

It's astonishing what bad of luck the universe sometimes throws at you.

I mean, yes, Delilah wants to be an actress. Yes, she and Chris used to move in the same circles.

But, really – what are the odds?

Even just as a minor character, Delilah demands attention. I don't think anyone can keep her eyes off her.

Or maybe that's just me.

„Isn't that...?“

May leans over to me.

I nod, numb.

„Yup.“

„Shit. Do you want to leave?“

I shake my head. That would just be pathetic, plus – Delilah might see. And I don't think I'd be able to live that one down.

The rest of the play seems to stretch on forever while I'm at the edge of my seat, running my hands over my thighs and trying (and failing) not to watch Delilah.

I'm the first one standing after the curtain call and May follows me to the entrance hall.

„How did you like it?“

Chris wraps her up in his arms.

She smiles at him.

„Good job, babe.“

I look away. Happy couples and all that.

I just want to leave, but Chris can't and May doesn't want to go without him and I can't bring myself to just go alone.

So, of course, Delilah finds me.

„Leah?“

Her eyes on me make me think of the moment you breach the surface of cold water for the first time. Diving in headfirst.

„Hi.“

„I didn't know you were a fan of Blink.“

„I'm not. I'm just here with May. Chris's girlfriend.“

„That's nice,“ she says and her eyes never leave me.

She's still wearing the heavy stage makeup, but plain jeans and I can't believe how anyone could be that beautiful.

„Would you like a drink?“ she asks me.

A drink is exactly what I would like right now, so I nod. She leads me to the bar, smiling over her shoulder.

Delilah

I'm nervous. I've just got off stage and back into my normal clothes, and yet now I'm way more nervous than I was the whole evening.

It's not like me, but I know how to handle it nonetheless. Not showing your nerves was the first lesson I learned when I started acting.

I still remember my first coach, an elderly woman with snow white hair and blazing eyes, putting her hands on my small shoulders and tell me: „Use the energy. Hide the fear.“

Little Delilah took to the advise beautifully and that's what I do now as well.

I smile at Leah, who looks like she'd rather be anywhere else than here. With me.

„Whiskey on the rocks?“ I ask.

Leah arches one of her brows at me that are sharp without her plugging them.

„Since when do I drink whiskey?“

I shrug.

„I could order you tequila as well, but I felt like whiskey fits the etablissement.“

She blinks at me, then looks away.

„Whiskey's fine.“

I order two and look at Leah.

As always, her clothes are rather simple – but a little more thoughtfully picked than I'm used to. It's like she knows how the simple blazer sets off her lean torso. As if she'd know that the jeans were made for her shapely legs.

„You look good,“ I tell her.

Leah doesn't look at me.

„Thanks.“

I use the energy and hide the fear.

This isn't going how I expected it to be.

I knew Leah would be pissed at me. I didn't expect her to be happy to see me – not at first.

But I did expect her to come back without so much of a fight.

Instead, she kicked me right out. No intention to see me again at all. It's not something I'm used to and it threw me off, like coming back home only to learn that all the rooms have been redecorated so you can't find anything.

But now she's here.

„Cheers.“

Our glasses clink together.

Leah doesn't look at me as she chugs the whiskey. I set my own down, glass still half full.

„I wish you hadn't come back.“

I swallow.

„I don't think you do.“

She gives me a look that has me shrivelling.

No one has ever made me feel ugly the way Leah does right now.

„I do, Delilah. I really do.“

I empty my glass.

„You're free to go.“

And there we have it. Of course Leah knows she's free to go.

But she can't.

Because she doesn't actually want to.

„I hate you,“ she says quietly.

„Do you want to talk?“ I ask, equally quiet. „I'd like to talk.“

Leah shakes her head.

Her long hair looks as soft as I remember it.

The pain is sharp and sudden, cutting right through me.

„I should leave,“ Leah says and I stop breathing.

She can't leave.

Without hesitation, I put my hand on her knee. Slowly trailing upward, over her thigh.

She stops breathing.

„We don't have to talk.“

I can see the moment she breaks and in that moment, she looks like she truly hates me, but neither of us cares.

She kisses me with a fever I've never felt in her kisses before – not quite like that.

I kiss back and wrap my arms around her neck.

She breaks the kiss and grabs my wrist. I'm dragged to the next bathroom and then pressed up against a the door of a stall.

It's quick and dirty and so hot that I can't breathe.

I've had sex in a public bathroom before, but it wasn't like this at all. I just remember it to have been uncomfortable – and maybe a little sexy, because I've always been a mild exhibionist.

I like to be watched. Sue me.

But that's not what makes this hot.

It's clearly Leah.

I try to kiss her when we've zipped our pants up again, but she turns her head away.

„This means nothing,“ she tells me, eyes hard and unforgiving and then she leaves me.

I take a few more minutes to catch my breath and process what just happened.

Something cold, cold and slimey is crawling over my skin and I wrap my arms around myself.