chapter twenty-fourAfter the delivery, Brian was told the bad news. He looked from face to face of each of his four friends. "You're kidding, right? Quit playin', y'all!" Brian looked at his cousin and saw him shake his head gravely.
Nick watched Brian's face fall. That uneasy smiled turned into a frown and Brian bowed his head down. He whispered, "Excuse me," and left for Jessica's room again.
--------------------- Nick had gone home, terribly guilty for making his best friend upset on such a glorious day for him. He sighed as he opened the door to his home. Knowing Lauren, he knew that she would've raged back here, grabbed her belongings and smashed a few lamps on the way out.
Nick looked at his place. Spotless. The trashcans weren't overturned. His platinums records still gleamed on the walls. Everything was still in its place.
This hurt him. It was like she was a ghost. No personality or any sign that she'd been home except for the hint of her perfume in the air. He drifted up to his room. His bed was now made. It wasn't before he'd left. He noticed that one of their picture frames was now empty. It was the one from the carnival. He wasn't sure if she had realized it or not, but the way she'd come and gone so quietly certainly shared how she felt.
Cold.
--------------------- Lauren walked to the counter. She looked at the employee behind it. Tall, stocky, teenaged. Probably eighteen years old. How he got the job was beyond Lauren.
"I'd like a one-way ticket to New York City," she said firmly. She slid her credit card across the counter's surface.
The teenager looked her over a few times appreciatively. Lauren noticed this, but didn't take much heed in it. "Any seating preference?" he asked with a smug grin.
"First class, if it's there."
The teen typed in his computer and found her a spot. He passed her a ticket after swiping her credit card. He smiled, leaned on the counter and began to say, "Y'know, maybe if ---"
Lauren held up her left hand and showed him the band on her ring finger. She had switched it from her middle finger under the counter.
"Oh, I see," he said, awkwardly, "Have a nice flight."
Lauren nodded and took a seat in the waiting area. Her flight was loading in ten minutes. She put her ring back on her middle finger. Stupidly, Lauren kept her eyes locked on the hallways. If she saw a familiar face, she knew that she'd have to leave.
They all had a way to get her to come back. Kevin would've grabbed her arm and made her explain herself, AJ would've too, but less forcefully. Howie would have sat down and asked her to tell him everything. Brian would hug her and then wait patiently for her to speak. Nick, Lauren thought bitterly, wouldn't even bother to come.
Lauren finally boarded the plane and sat down in her seat. She looked out the window and watched the workers on the ground scurry around in the dark night.
Lauren's friend, Samantha, lived in NYC. Lauren had called her on the way to collect her things. Samantha agreed to take Lauren in on a whim. Samantha was like that; she didn't ask questions, she just went with it. Lauren had admired her friend for such a spontaneous, laid-back attitude.
Samantha was older than Lauren, being twenty-seven. They had met through Samantha's younger brother Jeff, a man whom Lauren once dated. Although the relationship between Jeff and Lauren had burned through, the bond between her and Samantha only became stronger. Lauren always felt that Samantha was something of a sister to her.
When Lauren arrived in New York, she felt worse than when she was in Florida. With this newfound distance between her and home, it had finally dawned on her that she hadn't thought of Jessica and the baby. Or Brian.
Samantha saw Lauren. She walked out with unshed tears in the corners of her eyes. She automatically took Lauren in her arms and cradled her as if she was her own child. Samantha hear Lauren sob and didn't mind that her wool sweater was getting drenched in tears.
"Let's take you home and clean you up. Then you can tell me everything, all right?" Samantha asked, coaxing Lauren softly. She saw Lauren nod and stand back a little, feverishly wiping tears from her face. Her face was now red and her eyes were only a little puffy. Samantha weaved her arm around Lauren's slender waist and they walked to baggage claim.
Lauren only had a large rolling suitcase full of her clothes, personal items and little else besides that. It was a shameful sight, but Lauren knew most of her items back in Florida were too reminding of Nick. Right now, she didn't want to think, see or hear about him.
Samantha's home was an apartment in the class leg of NYC. It, like the neighborhood it was in, was nothing short of the usual snobbery that seemed to englove the whole area. Everything screamed "I'm rich!" subtly. There were a few lamps here and there, making the room more comfortable. The wooden floors were polished a dark color and were smooth and shiny. Samantha's bedroom was to the right of the living room area. The bathroom was a little past it. To the left was the kitchen and spare room.
Samantha took Lauren's coat off and put it on the spare bed along with her suitcase and purse. She directed Lauren to the bathroom and persuaded her to take a nice warm shower. While Lauren did that, Samantha walked to her kitchen and brewed some of her famous green tea. She set down two cups on the wooden table in the living room. She went back to the kitchen and searched for some decent kind of snack. Out of the corner of her eye, Samantha saw Lauren shuffle to the spare room, a fluffy towel wrapped around her. Samantha decided on some simple chocolate cookies and set those down next to the tea.
Lauren finally emerged from her room in her flannel pajamas, and one finger twirling a piece of damp hair nervously.
"Sit and have some tea," Samantha directed. Her voice was smooth, trying to urge Lauren nicely.
Lauren obeyed and sat on the other side of the brown couch. Samantha passed her a cup of tea and Lauren took a hasty sip of it. The fumes of the tea were wonderfully intoxicating.
"Okay, tell me everything from the start. I want all the details," Samantha instructed.
Lauren took another sip of her tea. She cleared her throat and told Samantha everything. From the first day she met Nick, to the day they broke up the first time. To their hook-up to Jessica's pregnancy and finally to the present time.
Samantha listen about this Nick guy. She knew who he was, of course. There was many a time where she caught his face on a legitimit magazine or those teenybopper things. Samantha hadn't met this man before she she couldn't be sure what to think of him. She assumed from his photos that he was one of those guys who lived for the thrill of parties and whatever the music biz brought to his plate. Money, houses, women...
But Lauren eliminated that stereotype as she described him. He was like that misunderstood, mysterious boy in your elementary class that hardly ever spoke a word to anyone. Only this one did talk and certainly had a temper.
Samantha saw that Lauren kept fingering a silver chain on her neck. She asked, "Where'd you get the necklace?"
"My other friend, Alex. He's the one with the tattoos and the piercings," she said.
Samantha grinned. "Ah, the hot one. I remember him. Was he there when you and Nick fought?"
"Yeah. He tried to stop us, but I told him to stay out of it. And after I left, he came out to stop me, but I elbowed him right in the stomach."
Samantha smirked. "Well, I guess those self-defense class weren't a complete waste, eh?"
Lauren frowned at this and said, "And Brian...I wish I had said something to him. He probably went berzerk when he found out. I didn't think."
"Are you going to call him?" Samantha inquired.
Lauren shook her head shamefully. "Not now, anyway," she added.
"So, what now? What do you plan on doing now that you now reside in the glorious city of New York?"
"Start new again."
"But you did that before and that really didn't help the problem."
"I am now thousands of miles away from the problem," Lauren pointed out, nibbling on a cookie.
"Sometimes, running away from your problems doesn't solve them."
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chapter twenty-five