Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 103281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
“Shit…”
I checked my mirrors, pulled to a stop at the side of the road. Reaching out, my fingers grazed the stereo controls and then hesitated. I’d planned to turn it off, but the muscles in my hands were paralysed, arrested by the soulful voice I missed so much surrounding my entire body like the hug I so desperately needed.
I said that I’d call, but so did you
Was it lies, was it hope, or were we destined to start anew?
I said that I cared, I meant it too
But now I’m all alone and I can’t help but feel like a fool
Did I leave you?
Or did you leave me?
How am I supposed to know who I should be?
I feel incomplete, can’t stay on my feet
I’m broken
Until the next time, that’s what I said
But the day never came, I got scared, did it hurt you as bad?
Now it’s always cold, here in my bed
Did I run, did I lie, or were you just a dream in my head?
Did I leave you?
Or did you leave me?
How am I supposed to know who I should be?
I feel incomplete, can’t stay on my feet
I’m broken
Oh, oh, oh
Broken
“Shit,” seemed to be the only word left in my vocabulary. Eyes closed, I made a pillow from crossed arms, folded them onto the steering wheel and rested my head. This was ridiculous. I was ridiculous. It’d been eight years. We were teenagers. Kids. I didn’t know him anymore, had no idea what kind of a man he’d grown into.
This wasn’t a new song. I’d first heard it three months ago when I watched him perform it on TV at the Grammys, where he’d also won awards for Best Music Video and Best Pop Vocal Album. It’d been played on every single radio station, every single day, ever since. I already knew the words, every last one, but they’d hit different today. Today, sitting alone and upset in my car at the side of the road, I wondered who she was, who’d hurt him, broken him. I wondered if he’d meant that in the way I knew Hugo Hayes could really be broken, or whether it was simply a flyaway lyric thrown in for a hook.
As I blinked a hot tear onto my forearm, I hoped he had someone to pick him up, to hold his face when he couldn’t breathe, to love him as I once had.
Do…
I sat up the second that thought entered my head and scoffed at the stupidity of it. You don’t bloody love him. How could I after all this time? I didn’t know who he was, where he was. What was wrong with me? I’d known, loved and lost touch with plenty of people in my life. Hell, I used to love my Year 7 science teacher, albeit in a very different way, and when he moved halfway across the world with Lucy Harper’s mum in the biggest scandal St Paul’s High had ever seen, I ate a family-sized Galaxy bar and got over that shit within a day.
I blew a puff of air through puckered lips, rubbed my eyes dry on the heels of my hands and sniffed in the last of the snot and tears clogging my nose. I made sure to grab my phone from the cup holder before I could change my mind and called Chrissie immediately.
“Hey, good lookin’.” She sounded cheery, her voice not giving away a single hint of our antics the night before.
“Hey, you. I was wondering if you wanted to come over tonight? I, uh, could kinda use some company if you’re not busy.”
“Absolutely,” she said, her tone lowering a notch. “You all right? You don’t sound it.”
“Honestly?” What the hell, let’s give this a shot. “I don’t know. Think I might be having an early mid-life crisis or something. And there’s something wrong with my car.”
“Sheesh. It’s not the clutch is it? I had to shell out over three hundred quid last year for mine.”
“Oh, no. Just keeps doing this weird thing where, whenever I get in it, I end up at a McDonald’s drive-thru.”
Chrissie laughed. “Fuck sake, Hel. I was feeling sorry for you then!”
She still should have. It was a legitimate problem. “I made quite the tit of myself in front of your brother today, too.”
“Oh, God, did you cry? You cried didn’t you. Zac freezes when women cry.”
I snorted a faint chuckle. “Almost,” I admitted. “And Zac was great, honestly. Atmosphere went a little awkward, but I could’ve been reading too much into it. I’ve been doing that a lot lately.”
“Say no more. I’m your girl. All you need is a good arse-kicking and I happen to have a certificate in karate.”
“From primary school,” if I remembered correctly. I’d only known Chrissie for five years, but talking about herself was her greatest forte.