everything's fucked// james cook

part 29: bloody hell

I got up as soon as Nick left, and padded over to my mirror. I looked back at Cook, sleeping, and thought about how well I was doing. I studied myself, remembering the first day of college. 

I looked happier, no dark circles or makeup smeared. I smiled. I was actually genuinely happy. My life here was good. I had friends, a boyfriend, my dad was here, taking care of my sister and mum. I was actually happy. After all the drama of the last few years, life was normal. 

I walked out of my room and down the stairs and stopped. 

The house was a tip: the white walls splashed with what was hopefully beer, the couches stained and covered in small holes where someone had put out their cigarette, and the mirrors cracked and broken.

I wasn't sure how I was going to clean this up, but I had to. Or I could move, run away and pretend I was never here. That would work. I would have to change my name, though. That would suck. 

I made my way through to where Nick was standing in the kitchen, looking ruefully at the carnage. I stopped to pick up a ski mask covered in something that I really don't want to know what it is. I shook my head, and dropped them. I walked to Nick's side, and stood, looking out into the living room. 

"Your dad's gonna shit himself," he said regretfully.

"Wouldn't be the first time," I responded. "And this definitely won't be the last." 

He turned to look at me, taking in my rumpled appearance and bedraggled hair.

"Rough night?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"Had a foul cocktail, a few too many beers. Danced on a table, made out with someone who was hopefully my boyfriend. Then I passed out drunk on my bed," I said. "My head is fucking killing me."

He wordlessly handed me a glass of water and a couple aspirin.

"Cheers," I said, raising it to my lips and taking a sip.

"It wasn't you, right?" I chuckled. 

"What?" Nick responded.

"It was Cook, right?" I said, seeing the panic in his eyes.

"Uh," he stuttered. "I'm not sure what to tell you, Vi, I don't think so, but I'm not entirely sure."

"Icky, I'm fucking with you, I know it was Cook," I said with a mischievous smile. 

"Where is Cook, by the way?" he asked, avoiding my eyes and running his hand through his hair. 

"Trying to pretend he isn't awake," I said, setting down the water. "You wanted to talk?"

"Yeah," he said. "Listen, Vi, I'm sorry. I've fucked up your relationship, and I didn't mean to. I just, I don't know. I missed you, and I'm in lo-"

Before he continued, I stopped him with a raised hand, feeling tears welling up. 

This was so hard. I had loved Nick forever, but Cook meant so much more to me than Nick ever did.

I thought about walking up with Cook at Effy's house, beating him at pool, the way I felt when I saw him sleeping next to me. 

"Nick, I know what you're going to say, but I want to say something first. I used to be in love with you, and I know, everyone was, you were kind, smart, fit," I said, trying not to look at him. "I dated Tom to get over you. When that didn't work out, I moved here, and I met Cook."

His face was a mixture of confusion, happiness, and sadness all at the same time. "Vi, I, this is so hard."

I couldn't hold it in, the tears rushed out. "Nick," I sobbed. "I'm in love with him. I love you, I always will. You're my first love, since we were kids. But I'm in love with him. I can't be without him."