Wrong Girl (6 page)

“Nonsense!
You’ll look gorgeous. Won’t she, Zack?” Rachel asks expectantly.

“Yes.
She will.” His irresistible, coffee-coloured eyes seek out mine, lingering just
a moment too long for it to be innocent.

I
wring my hands together, struggling with his direct observation of me. His
insightful and discerning glare cuts right through me. I have no idea why he
would be angry with me but that’s exactly what he appears to be. I’m no longer
able to pretend that I’m oblivious, his perusal is intense and I reach for my
phone in my handbag, deciding to send Jason a quick text about ordering a take
away later. It’s our Saturday night ritual and I don’t want to disappoint him.

“Jason?”
Rachel swivels round in her seat, looking pointedly at my phone.

“Yeah,
just arranging what we’re going to do later.”

“How’s
he doing? Is he seeing anyone at the moment?”

“No,
he just broke up with Charlotte, they weren’t getting along but he was with her
for about six months or so, he’s still a little cut up about it.”

“That’s
a shame, tell him I was asking after him.” She smiles at me and turns back
around, glancing over at Zack beside her. She furrows her brow when she notices
the tension etched all over his face and the firm grip he has on the steering wheel.
“Zack, are you ok?” She asks carefully.

“Yep.
I just want to get home. This traffic is driving me crazy.”

“It’s
the weather, everyone’s in a rush to get home.” She informs him.

“I
figured.” He replies sharply, tightening his relentless grip on the wheel.

The
three of us are silent for several minutes and there’s so much tension in the
car, I can’t wait to get out. They seemed so happy and relaxed last night, what
could have changed since then?

“Zack,
can you drop me right here? I need to get some cash out before we go for dinner
with your parents tonight.” My sister exclaims, rummaging through her bag.

“It’s
ok, I got it.”

“No!
I’ve literally not got anything in my purse and I refuse to go out without any
money.” She wails, grabbing hold of his arm.

“Rachel,
I told you I can pay.” He says firmly, concentrating on the busy road in front
of him.

“And
I told you I’m not comfortable with that. Please just pull over, there’s a cash
machine right there. I’ll be two minutes.” She reasons with him, already
unbuckling her seat belt.

“Fine.”
His teeth are clenched, reluctant to give in to her demand.

“Thanks,
I’ll be right back.” Rachel jumps out the car within seconds, slamming the door
closed behind her.

Zack
and I are left alone. The atmosphere is strained and intense, prompting me to
play around on my phone some more, hoping it will make me look occupied. All of
a sudden the screen goes blank, it’s completely shuts down and I don’t know
what I did to make that happen.

“Shit.”
I mumble, turning it over so I can take out the battery, my answer to everything
when there’s a problem with my phone.

“What
is it?” Zack remains still in his seat, refusing to turn around and look at me.

“My
phone just died and it won’t switch back on.” I complain, struggling to get the
back off my phone.

“Pass
it here, I’ll take a look at it.” He holds his hand out for me and I pass it to
him without saying a word. He fiddles on with my phone for a couple of seconds
and I have no idea what he’s doing to it.

“Any
good?” I ask optimistically.

“I
don’t know what the issue was but it’s working now.” He murmurs quietly, head
bowed as he directs all of his attention onto the screen in front of him.

“That’s
great, thanks a lot.” I reach out for it but he won’t relinquish his hold on my
phone.

“Just
a minute.” He says impatiently.

Ok…
what the hell? I look up to see Rachel jogging back over to the car. It’s still
pelting down with rain and the only sound to be heard is the persistent rhythm
of the raindrops on the car roof.

“Rachel’s
back.” I warn him.

He
quickly types out something on my phone, hurrying to finish whatever it was he
was doing.

“All
fixed, there you go.” He hands it back to me and leans over, opening the door
for my drenched sister knocking on the window.

“God,
it’s crazy out there! Look at the state of me.” She laughs, shaking her head.

“You
still look gorgeous, especially when you’re all wet.” Zack whispers, placing a
soft kiss on her lips.

The
seduction in his voice is impossible for me to ignore and I clench my fists,
overwhelmed by the potent jealousy coursing through my veins. He was irritated
with her just a minute ago, what changed? And what caused him be so intimate
with her in front of me? It’s like he was trying to apologise for his behaviour
before she got out the car or trying to prove something to me. I know this
doesn’t make any sense but that’s the exact vibe I got from that kiss.

They
drop me home a few minutes later, I thank Rachel for the day out and Zack for
the ride, hastily removing myself from the car as soon as possible. The rain
has finally stopped so I don’t need to race for sanctuary and I stroll across
the parking lot. I only glance back at the car once and notice him watching me
from his rear-view mirror again. He doesn’t take his eyes off me until he turns
the corner, disappearing out of sight. His absence leaves a great and gaping
hole inside my chest. I’d give anything to be my sister, to be sitting in the
seat beside him and not standing alone out here, wishing I was someone else and
longing to be with someone I can never have.

As
soon as I let myself into my apartment, I run myself a hot bath to warm up.
We’ve had plenty of April showers lately and I don’t enjoy them one bit. I
don’t mind the rain when I’m warm and cosy at home but certainly not when I get
caught in it during the day. I spend the remainder of my afternoon on the sofa
reading a new book I downloaded on my kindle the day before. Jason sends me a
text to let me know he will be over later and I get out all the take away
menu’s I have, deciding to leave it up to him to choose what we order.

I
have a little cry to myself whilst taking a bath. Talking about my personal
issues with Rachel really opened up some old wounds for me and as soon as I got
home I knew I would end up breaking down sooner or later. It would torment me
for the rest of the day if I didn’t let my emotions out.

I
had an abortion when I was eighteen years old and words cannot even begin to describe
the absolute agony it caused me. My heart is still broken from what happened,
it left me a shattered, damaged and fragile wreck. The devastating truth of the
matter is I had already fallen in love with my baby by the time I actually went
ahead with the termination. I know many people will then wonder what on earth caused
me to make that life-changing decision if I’d already bonded with the tiny life
growing inside of me. I suppose I don’t have one direct answer for that
question but I
can
sum it up in one word and that word is fear.

I’ve
suffered from anxiety for as long as I can remember. It started when I was a
child and developed on from there. I don’t have social anxiety, I can socialise
and make out as though I’m enjoying life just like everyone else can, I can go
out for meals and hold down a job, it’s something inside of me that’s ruined. For
as long as I can remember my greatest aspiration has been to achieve happiness.
I yearn for it and know that I would sacrifice anything to attain it. My
chronic state of worrying started during my childhood. Obsessive worries would cloud
my mind and steal every joyful moment from it. I thought it was something I’d
eventually grow out of but it never happened.

My
relationship with mum just make things worse, she never supported anything I did
and she always treated me differently from my brother and sister. Rachel was
her favourite right from the start and I was often pushed out of the equation.
I was such a daddy’s girl, I absolutely doted on him and worshipped the ground
he walked on. We had this extraordinary relationship and I doubt I’ll ever
again find the magnificence that I recognised in him. He’d take me everywhere
with him and we’d go on these amazing adventures together, he would make up
these incredible stories which I’d beg him to tell me over and over again.

I
don’t know whether my mum was envious of my close relationship with him or if
she simply hated me from the start but our relationship has always been fraught.
I learnt from an early age that she didn’t like me. She never gave me half of
the attention and affection that she gave to Rachel and my younger brother, Andrew.

Our
father died when I was eight years old. He was involved in a car accident on
his way home from work and died in hospital shortly after. It was mum who broke
the news to us and I remember the cold way she looked at me when she told me he
was dead. She comforted my brother and sister but I didn’t receive anything. I
cried myself to sleep for months, soaking my pillow with my insuppressible
tears. I now realise I should have been offered counselling or at least had
someone to talk to after going through such a harrowing trauma but nothing like
that was ever suggested. Rachel and Andrew slowly started to get better and
begun the healing process but I was still lost, entirely consumed by the black
hole that was my grief. The distance between mum and myself only increased, she
felt like a stranger to me and I was entirely alone. Rachel’s been a social
butterfly for as long as I can remember, she had plenty of boys and girlfriends
to occupy herself with and would join in with all the after school clubs from
being a teenager. I had a couple of close friends in school but never had
Rachel’s confidence. She blossomed throughout her teenage years and mum would
relish in the staggering amount of compliments she’d receive from people about
my sister and her beauty.

I
really can’t complain. Rachel always looked out for me and never intentionally
singled me out. Life went on without my dad and I eventually started to adjust
to an existence without his presence. Mum never remarried which is something
that still surprises me. My parents never had what you might call a good
relationship, mum came from a wealthy family and my dad didn’t. My mum’s
parents were disapproving from the start and that explains the pompous and
condescending relatives I was forced to mix with last night. We no longer see my
dad’s side of the family, my mum cut ties with them when he died and the three
of us were too young to challenge her decision at the time.

When
I found out I was pregnant I was still in college. I was 18 years old and thought
it was the worst thing that could ever happen to me. I now know that I was
unwell and really did need some help. Physically, I was fine but emotionally I
was a complete mess. My anxiety was spiralling out of control and I couldn’t
understand the route of my problem. Well, maybe I could but didn’t want to face
it. By this point my dad had already been gone for ten years and I didn’t
believe his death to be the route of the chaos going on inside my head.

I
knew Paul from school, we’d always been acquaintances but not exactly friends. I
never opened up to him about anything personal and I suppose I knew from the
start that I was only using him to try and forget my problems. We only slept
together one time but I became pregnant. It never should have happened because
Rachel persuaded me to go on the pill when I was seventeen. She was nineteen at
the time and had been on it for three years or so. I suppose she was being
responsible and was looking out for me and I’m still grateful to her. She took
me to the doctors and I had no problems with the contraception they prescribed
me. That’s why I don’t know what the hell I was thinking when I stopped taking
it. I remember Paul asking me right before we had sex if I was on birth control
and I foolishly lied to him by assuring him that I was. What I failed to
mention was the fact that I’d stopped taking it about one month before.

 I’d
had a feeling that we might sleep together and deliberately made the decision
to stop taking the pill. I had this unexplainable yearning for a baby and it
refused to leave me no matter what I did. I knew that it was nonsensical but
I’ve always been maternal and longed for a child. It really was madness because
I had no job, no money and no relationship. I wanted to be a mum since I was a
little girl and even when through a phase when I was fourteen where I was
desperate for a baby. Of course it was impossible for me at the time and that’s
what made me it an ideal fantasy. It was something unobtainable and out of
reach.

After
Paul and I slept together, I realised what a stupid mistake I had made and promised
myself I’d go back on the pill as soon as I my next period. That day never
came. I wasn’t too worried at first, I thought my periods might have got a
little mixed up with me coming off the pill so suddenly, I never actually
believed I’d be pregnant so soon.

I
remember sneaking into Rachel’s room to steal one of her pregnancy tests. She
always had a couple of them hidden underneath her clothes in one of her drawers
and I thought I better take one just to make sure. When it came up positive I
almost died with shock. I know I sound naive but that’s exactly what I felt
like. I was already on such a downward spiral, I hardly knew what I was doing
and I was certainly in no fit state to make such a monumental decision like the
one I had made.