I Need You. Jane Lark

I leaned against the door jamb, watching her, waiting on her answer.

      I’d spent hours in this position, on the border to Lindy’s and Jason’s bedroom at college, talking to one or the other.

      “Yeah, I can unpack later.” She turned away, knocking the door open wider, before walking back into her room.

      I stayed where I was. “Did you call your dad to say we got here okay?”

      “Yeah.”

      “He’s okay with it?”

      She turned, her eyes flashing impatience, a little of the real Lindy shining through the dark clouds hanging over her. Like a beam of intense sunlight catching me off-guard and blinding me.

      “He may be a cop, but he doesn’t order me about. I’m twenty-two. I can do whatever.”

      Yep, she could. When she was herself, she always did whatever she wanted, with a just-deal-with-it attitude. That attitude had made Jason go silent. He’d always let her have her way.

      I lifted my weight off the door frame.

      “You ready to go then?”

      “Yeah.”

      When she came out of the room, my hand hovered behind her. I had no need to touch her; it would have been strange to do it and yet it felt strange walking down the hall not touching her.

      Lindy barely came to my shoulder.

      I’d picked her up once or twice, messing around, and she was as light as anything. So frickin’ tiny.

      Her thick blond hair flowed in waves about her shoulders as she moved. My hand itched to touch that. Literally.

      Crap.

      I lifted my hand to touch her shoulder. I didn’t. Instead I slipped my hands into the back pockets of my pants to keep them tamed.

      The way out from our apartments was a wide wooden staircase, leading down from the third floor.

      The view was amazing, the beach and ocean stretching into the distance. I breathed the salt air in. It felt good. Like it healed.

      “Wow.” She smiled at me.

      I hoped the healing would work for her. “Just being by the coast always makes me feel different, better somehow, lifts the weight off my shoulders––”

      “What weight have you got on your shoulders?” Yep, the old snappy Lindy was coming back.

      I didn’t answer, and that killed the conversation.

      But, it wasn’t really the old Lindy. It was just the pre-overdose Lindy. College Lindy. That wasn’t the girl I’d fallen for originally. She’d been pushy and self-confident at high school… but not snappy and not the bitch she could be at times. Those elements had slipped in while we were at college.

      We didn’t talk much the rest of the way into town, but we’d been friends long enough that our friendship could take silence.

      When we got there, though, we wasted half an hour arguing over which restaurant to stop in.

      She wasn’t hungry. I was ravenous.

      In the end we chose a place that did the salad she wanted and a huge portion of fried chicken that would do me.

      She was quiet again when we sat down.

      “What do you wanna do this afternoon?”

      Her head came up. She’d been looking at her food, but not eating much of it. Her gaze hit mine. “You said we’d go for a walk along the beach.”

      “Well, I just wanted to check that’s what you want, Lind. You haven’t said much; you might’ve just wanted to go back and be on your own.”

      “I didn’t come here to be on my own, did I? I could be on my own at home.” There was sore-headed Lind again. The bitch.

      I took a breath, to call her out––

      “So you and Jason have patched everything up. Are you buddies again?”

      That’s why she’d been quiet. She’d been spinning that around in her head.

      I wondered how it made her feel. Betrayed by him? And then betrayed by me? But I was friends with Jason again, and I wanted to be his friend. I wasn’t gonna change that even if she asked me to. “Yes.” I lifted an eyebrow, waiting on her judgment.

      “So everything’s forgotten?”

      Not everything. “Lind, don’t. I like him. He’s been like a brother most of my life. I want him around.” A brother whose girl I’ve wanted to fuck for years, but hey.

      Her lips compressed as anger flashed in her eyes, but she didn’t vent it at me.

      Looking down at her salad, she stabbed a piece of chicken with her fork. Maybe she imagined it as part of Jason’s anatomy––or mine.

      “Have you seen it?”

      “It?”

      “The baby?”

      “The baby is called Saint, and, yeah, I went ‘round to Jason’s parents’ one night this week, before we went for a drink, and saw Rach and the kid.”

      “Saint’s a stupid name.” She stabbed a piece of tomato.

      Annoyance and exasperation rippled inside me as I took a bite out of a piece of fried chicken.

      This is what I needed to fix for her. I hadn’t only brought her here to get her away. I wanted to smash open this fucking ball of anger she wrapped herself up in. It had been there for years, but not when we were kids. It wasn’t who she was, it was what she’d become. The only way she’d be happy was to be who she’d been at high school. I had no idea why she’d changed.

      I leaned back, watching her. “The baby isn’t going anywhere when we go back, you know. It’s you who has to learn to live with Rach and Saint in the town, and Jason being with them. Not the other way around.”

      She glared at me, standing up and dropping her fork on the tray. Then without a word she turned and walked out.

      Cool, we’d been here a couple of hours and we’d clashed already. I pulled some dollar bills out of my pocket and left them on the table to get the check, then followed her.

      She’d headed toward the beach. I ran to catch up with her and grabbed her feeble little bicep to stop her. Then made her turn and look at me.

      “I said I’d get you away, give you chance to breathe out here. But I’m not gonna lie to you, Lind, or put up with your bad moods. I’m not Jason. Don’t expect me to just let you bite. I’ll bite back.”

      I wasn’t telling her anything she didn’t know. At college we’d had some really loud arguments. The neighbors had bashed on the wall a few times to shut us up. I’d never put up with her shit like Jason did, and she knew it. We were both fire and we’d flare quick and fast at each other.

      Jason––he was calm, cooling water.

      But we’d always been okay when the air cleared, and if she’d had problems and needed to talk, or just moan and shout, she’d always come to me, not him… Cause Jason would either have a solution or walk away from an argument and sometimes people like us just needed to shout.

      I sighed, letting her go. My fingers lifted and ran through my hair. Shit. I ruffled it when I remembered I’d knocked it flat.

      Her coming to me had been the beginning of how everything had got messed up between us. A year ago, when Jason had gone to New York to live and left her behind… It had been the first time he’d stood up to her and not just done what she wanted. She’d hated that. So who had she come to, to moan and shout about it? Me.

      She turned away and started walking again, her movement stiff with anger.

      “You’re