Repeating History (History #1) (2 page)

From Clara (
[email protected]
)

To: Anna (
[email protected]
)

RE: re: DRINKS!!!!!!

Anna,

I have so much to tell you! You won’t believe who I have to work with! ONE WORD: ANDREW!

I bloody hate him! Anyway, I’ll rant later.

See you at seven.

C x

Clara Delos

Account Director

TRW Advertising

I hear another ping from my laptop. I quickly go to open the new email, fully expecting Anna to have replied already. I am surprised when I open the email to find that it is addressed from the man stood in my doorway. I don’t check to see how pleased with himself he looks before opening the email and reading it quickly;

From:
[email protected]

To:
[email protected]

RE: You’re Ignoring Me!

Miss Delos,

You seem to be ignoring me. Is this really the only way to get your attention?

Stop being rude.

Andrew

Andrew Contius

Account Director

TRW Advertising

I barely have time to think of a reply when I hear him typing on his phone. I look up and see him looking straight at me instead of watching what he is typing. My email pins again, looking down I see another email from him.

From:
[email protected]

To: Cara (
[email protected]
)

RE: Perhaps I was wrong

Perhaps I was wrong, you seem determined to ignore me even through the medium of email.

Just so you know, I’m going to email you all weekend about the most ridiculous and tedious things until you finally crack.

Have you got plans for tonight? You still haven’t answered the bloody question.

A

Andrew Contius

Account Director

TRW Advertising

I frown. I really don’t want him emailing me all weekend. Perhaps I’d better reply and hope he leave me alone.

From: Clara (
[email protected]
)

To:
[email protected]

RE: re: Perhaps I was wrong

I am most certainly determined to ignore you. Why would you think for a second that I wouldn’t be?

Yes, I have plans for tonight, plans that do not involve you emailing me constantly.

Clara

Clara Delos

Account Director

TRW Advertising

Eight years out of high school, I should be rid of him. I certainly thought I had been. His phone vibrates as he received my message. I switch off my laptop and pack it away. I hear his reply come through on my phone but I refuse to check it. Instead I pull my coat on and grab my bag before walking out of my office; straight passed him without so much as a word. I’m incredibly proud of myself as I manage to walk past him without looking back. Passing him, I notice an electricity surrounding him. I am convinced that if he tried to touch me, I’d receive an electric shock. I am surprised his hair isn’t more of a tangled mess with that current rolling off his skin. My heart is racing and my hands feel clammy; maybe I should make an appointment to see my doctor. It’s not like I like Andrew. I can’t stand him.

As soon as I am in the lift and going down I pull out my phone and check the email. I can’t resist it.

From:
[email protected]

To: Clara (
[email protected]
)

RE: re: re: Perhaps I was wrong

Got a date have you, Delos?

I’m not going to let up you know; by Monday morning you’ll have given up on his ridiculous notion of trying to ignore me.

A

Andrew Contius

Account Director

TRW Advertising

I can almost hear him chucking to himself as I formulate my reply. I can almost see his eyes twinkling with humour. He’s probably counting the seconds to see how long I can resist replying. He knows I always react.

From: Clara (
[email protected]
)

To:
[email protected]

RE: re: re: re: Perhaps I was wrong

Not a date. Just catching up with friends.

Good luck with your scheme. You know it won’t work, right?

C

Clara Delos

Account Director

TRW Advertising

His reply is practically automatic.

From: Andrew (
[email protected]
)

To: Clara (
[email protected]
)

RE: No date? That’s a shame

Shame. I was looking forward to ruining a date with my incessant beeping and pinging.

Of course it will work Delos. I’ve already got you replying haven’t I?

A

Andrew Contius

Account Director

TRW Advertising

I decide not to reply. Instead I open up the Facebook app on my phone. I have a few new friend requests. I quickly accept them; they are all from work. As I am flicking through them I find one that I wish I could ignore; Andrew Contrius.

Instead of accepting, I spend a few minutes having a look at his profile, checking his relationship status and going through his profile photos before unwillingly accepting him. I ignore the voice in my head that says I’m Facebook stalking him. I don’t want to be rude to a new colleague even if it is him. Within seconds of accepting his friend request I receive an instant message from him.

I knew you couldn’t stay away
.


I don’t know what you are talking about. I couldn’t refuse your request; our colleagues would have wondered why we weren’t friends.

Ah... excuses... excuses... As if they’d have noticed. They are an oblivious sort. So tell me, these friends you are meeting up with; do I know them?

Yes, you do. Anna, Mike and Elle from school.

Are you all still BFFs? I’d have thought you’d have outgrown each other by now!

Why?

Don’t know. Just seems silly, still being close to people from school.

Are you and James not friends anymore? I fully concede your point, we shouldn’t be close to some of the people we went to school with; for example, I shouldn’t be close to you. I think you should refrain from coming into my office.

Now you’re just talking rubbish. We’re different. We were never close in school and we’re still not now... although we could rectify that. James and I talk occasionally.

I think I need more distance, not less, thanks.

Shame. I’m enjoying the less. Where are you meeting your friends?

A pub.

?

Why do you think I would even think about telling you? Knowing you, you’ll show up just to torment me.

True. It was worth a go.

In school, my friends were convinced that Andrew fancied me. They were always saying that boys tend to tease the girls they fancy, but I had never believed them. Andrew had managed to make me feel absolutely awful about myself. He seemed to always be able to pick up on every insecurity I had and point it out for the whole school to see. I’d been foolish enough to have a crush on him at one point. I’d been seventeen and we’d been at a mutual friend’s birthday party. Everyone was well on the way to getting completely wasted when I’d decided to go out for some air. He’d been watching me, smirking at me, with another bloody apple in hand. I’d felt his grey eyes on me almost all night and I was anxiously waiting for the taunting to start. “You look pretty tonight,” I heard him say from the door way.

I didn’t turn round. I didn’t want to see his teasing expression. “But?” I waited for the ridicule. I knew it was coming. He never missed an opportunity to make a joke at my expense.

“But nothing; you look pretty.”

I had turned around then, my eyes wide, taking him in. He had just stood there with an easy grace, acting as if his behaviour was completely normal and in character. As if he hadn’t just said the most absurd thing I’d ever heard. His grey eyes looked sincere but I daren’t believe him. His words didn’t fit into the parameters of our relationship. I had decided it was safest to escape. I had nodded before making my way back inside towards my friends. I avoided him like hell for the rest of the night and tried not to dwell on what he had said. I had ignored the sensation of his watchful gaze on my back. Even then as a teenager I had been more aware of him and what he was doing than anyone else I’ve ever known. As much as I had pretended not to be affected, seventeen year old me had allowed his words to wash over me and when I went home that night there was a smile on my face. I didn’t expect anything to change but a small part of me had hoped. I’d hoped that I’d go into school the next day and everything would be different. I’d lain in bed wishing that he would tell me he liked me. I’d really hoped he’d ask me out; not that I’d ever admit it. When I had gone into school on Monday morning and he immediately started ripping into me, I couldn’t help myself; I burst into tears and rushed into the nearest bathroom. He’d managed to make me feel like absolute shit. Somehow his compliment had hurt me far more than every joke and teasing comment he’d ever made at my expense.

Half an hour later, when I enter the pub, my friends are already sitting at a comfortable table near the fire. I’ve missed them so much. I haven’t told them about Stephen and Cathy. They know that we broke up and they know that he hurt me but I haven’t told them the details. It still hurts too much for that. The pub is called ‘The Last Leg’, an old pub with an equally old landlady. I drop my stuff at the table with my friends, remove my coat and scarf, grabbing the wine they have ordered for me, and perch down on the bench, “cheers.”

Anna’s eyes are sparkling with interest, “your email; did you mean Andrew Contrius?”

I nod. I don’t want to open my mouth; I’m not sure I will be able to control my tongue.

“Bloody hell,” Elle laughs.

“Just your luck,” Mike grins.

“You never know it could be fun,” Anna suggests with a wink. They all laugh at that idea; of course they would find this funny. Andrew had been one of the popular boys; with his messy, black hair. He’d always had a reputation for being a bit of a player. He’d had several girlfriends during the years that he’d spent teasing and bullying me. They had all been of the same sort; skinny, blonde, pretty, popular. They had always been everything I wasn’t.

“Hell; it could be fate,” Elle tries.

My phone beeps and I consider ignoring it but think twice, it could be important. It might be about work or it could be from my dad.

Miss me yet?

No. Go away.

Never.

Arse.

Arse? That seems unkind.

Really? I’m sorry... I think it’s quite tame. There are other names I’ve been wanting to call you for years. I think I’m showing restraint.

Really? Well, feel free to indulge yourself, so long as you’re screaming them as I...

You are an arse. Fuck off.

I put my phone away. I must not let him get inside my head.

I’ve managed to avoid looking at my phone for the last three hours. He’s messaged me a couple of times much to Michael’s entertainment. Mike’s been teasing me all night about Andrew. “It’s your chance to tell him you’ve always liked him,” Elle smiles happily at me. She’s always been a romantic. She’s had a crush on Mike’s brother Jack for as long as I can remember but she’s never said it out loud. All of us know of course. Jack even knows; I’m almost sure of it. He’s a couple of years older than us all but he’s far less mature than Michael and so he’s always seemed like the younger brother out of the two.

“I think you’re projecting,” Anna smirks.

Elle scowls at her before continuing, “I’m not projecting. Clara has always liked him.”

“No I haven’t,” I don’t know why I’m bothering to argue with her. None of them are going to believe me any way. They’ve always known when I’m lying and I really did like him back when we were seventeen.

“Yes you have,” Mike rubs me on the back soothingly, “but that’s okay. There’s no accounting for taste.”

“You bastard,” I shake my head at his teasing remark, “you’re supposed to look out for me.” He is a shitty best friend.