Love Is Only A Feeling, Chapter 3.
Chapter 3.
“I'm torn and tattered,
shattered and worn.
I've had enough
trying to live my life
in the eye of the storm...
Every heartache
leaves a scar on my face.
Somebody reach out
or throw me a line,
get me out of this place...”
Whitesnake - Restless Heart
The sun that made Zowie squint also made her mutter a curse under her breath the minute she set foot on the sidewalk. Her head throbbed angrily and she was sure it was punishing her for exposing herself to such brightness, so she huffed in frustration. The idea of going back in did cross her mind, but the hunger that rumbled loudly in her stomach pushed her to go on. It was obvious that no one else would get the groceries, and if Zowie wanted to avoid a repeat of the scene in the apartment, then she would have to do it herself. That sole thought prompted her to go on.
This wasn't the normal way to live. Something inside her knew it and repeatedly told her so, but Zowie refused to acknowledge what had become of her life, knowing she would get nothing out of it. She needed a place to live and she needed the drugs, and if in order to get both she had to look past Matt's darker side, then she would, even if her survival instinct begged her to do otherwise.
There was an inherent danger to Matt's job that Zowie couldn't ignore. They lived in Westlake, less than three miles away from downtown Los Angeles', and not just that, every other apartment in their building was taken. It didn't matter that their neighbours were used to the parade of shady characters in their streets; if they did as much as pay a little more attention to the couple, putting two and two together wouldn't be hard at all. If they hadn't already.
What would be of them if Matt got caught? His possible answer to that question came easily to Zowie's mind: his parents would most likely let him rot in jail. There had been only one person in Matt's past that had cared about him enough to take him in when he had ran away from his parents' home at sixteen, that had loved him enough to try and help him with his addiction: Abigail Hudson, his grandmother. She had gone as far as leaving Matt her apartment when she died hoping the responsibility would help him straighten himself out, that it would offer him the stability he so desperately needed. But with Abigail, Matt's anchor, gone from his life forever... Zowie shook her head. If only the lady knew the things that now happened in her once beloved and well-cared-for home...
But what about her? Her mind urged the thought forward. If Matt went to jail, would someone contact her family to let them know she was in trouble with the law in a foreign country? Would they tell them about her addictions and what she had come to? The thought made her shiver despite the warm sun that burnt in the cloudless sky. Zowie had gone to such extents to hide her addiction from her family that she dreaded the idea of having to talk about it - and many other things - with them. They would never understand, just like they would never understand their own role in her issues. Zowie remembered Noemie's shock when she had told her she wanted to take a gap year so long ago and a sardonic yet very sad smile tugged at her lips. What would her mum think of her now? Would finding out that her daughter was an addict be the worst she had always expected from her?
Zowie's eyes skimmed over the now very familiar surroundings of South Union Avenue as a depressed sigh left her lips. What was it about that day that she simply couldn't stop feeling sorry about herself, couldn't stop thinking about the people from her past? The sight of the football pitch belonging to a nearby middle school only served to increase her melancholy. That part of her was gone, long gone, and it was time she got over it and began to deal with reality the best way she knew how: avoiding it with the help of drugs.
Trying carefully to keep her mind empty of all thought, Zowie took West 7th Street and focused solely on what step to take next so it would lead her to the small supermarket nearby, her eyes fixed on the cracked sidewalk. She had no idea what time of the day it was, but the position of the sun, high in the sky, told her it had to be around midday. Her stomach rumbled at the thought.
When was the last time she had eaten? Zowie frowned in her effort but the answer escaped her. There was a memory, a hazy one that told her she had eaten something the day before, but that had yet to do it that day and since all normality had long since vanished, Zowie failed to be surprised at the discovery. The pills usually suppressed her appetite and most of the times, once the effects ran out, she either felt too tired or her body ached too much to even think of moving, let alone eating. That wasn't the case that day, obviously, and although her muscles did complain some, the hunger was still there, biting at her stomach with angry pangs.
Zowie kept on walking, lost in her musings. The cracks creating spiderweb-like patterns on the sidewalk held her undivided attention, and when a body hit her squarely on her left arm, it did it with enough force to make her lose her balance. With her hands in her pockets and her reflexes numbed by the drugs, Zowie's body tilted backwards. A little yelp escaped her lips and although she did manage to free her hands, there was no stopping the unavoidable fall until a pair of strong hands grabbed her by the arms. Embarrassed, and feeling much too uncomfortable by the proximity of the stranger, Zowie struggled to free herself from that strong grip that made her arms hurt.
“Let go of me, you idiot! Can't you see where you're going?”
The anger and aggravation inside her grew with every word she pronounced, and while Zowie was ready to pounce on her victim with every bit of the aggressiveness the drugs awoke in her, she wasn't in any way prepared to meet a very familiar face staring incredulously at her.
“Geoff?”
Hadn't Zowie been half as shocked as she was, she could have probably found the stunned expression on the grown man's face amusing. His brown eyes were wide and her lips formed a silent O, but Zowie failed to find the hilarity in that; the coldness that slowly crept up her spine stopped her from doing so and her mind, usually under the stupor of the drugs, began to work at a speed it hadn't experienced in ages.
Geoff. Geoff was in Los Angeles. He was in the same country, the same state, hell, even the same city as her!
What was he doing there? Zowie knew she hadn't been exactly up to date with the latest gossip, but last thing she knew, Geoff was still in Wellington, still working with... her mind suddenly whirled at a pace that made her dizzy. Geoff worked with her dad, but he was in Los Angeles, and the thought sent prickles of fear up and down her spine. Did that mean William was there too? Zowie threw a scared glance around, fearful of what she would see.
“Zowie?” Geoff's voice echoed the astonishment in his expression. Unconsciously gripping her arms a bit tighter in a way that made Zowie grit her teeth, he pulled her close, as if still not believing his own eyes. “Is that you? Good God, I don't believe it!” Before Zowie could even part her lips to answer, Geoff had taken her in his arms in a tight hug she couldn't have possibly escaped from.
Fear quickly stomped its way into her heart. Geoff couldn't be there. His sole presence brought old pains and sorrows back to life with a vengeance, but above all, it smothered her with terror. He couldn't find out anything about her or her life. If he did, it would be a complete disaster.
“Yeah, it's-it's me,” Zowie finally stammered, her voice laden with uncertainty as she struggled to understand the implications of that event. Geoff's presence changed everything, and drastically at that, and the sense of safety that having an ocean between her and everyone she knew had put in her heart had been shattered. Nothing was safe anymore, and it scared her to death. “What are you doing here?” She finally asked. Then, incapable of holding herself back any longer, she added. “Are you... umm... alone?”
Geoff smiled, unaware of the trembling in Zowie's voice and of the turmoil his sole presence had unleashed inside her.
“I work here, Zowie.” Geoff said, his brown eyes dancing with joy and surprise. “I moved to Los Angeles little over a year ago. I tried to contact you as soon as I got here but I was never able to. But how are you doing?” He asked enthusiastically. “It's been so long, Zowie... when was the last time we saw each other?”
Zowie felt sick. Couldn't Geoff just answer her question and get over with it? She wasn't interested on exchanging pleasantries; in fact, all she wanted to do was go home, lock herself up and not come out until she had found a way to move to the opposite end of the country to a place where she knew for sure that these kind of surprises wouldn't happen anymore. If she had to face the one person she had been avoiding for years, Zowie would break down, and she couldn't allow that.
“I can't remember, really.” She muttered as an answer. And it was true. When was the last time she had seen Geoff? At the Rings' wrap-up party? If she had, she had been much too focused on spending every possible minute with Orlando to care about someone she saw every day like Geoff. Still needing to know what she was facing, Zowie insisted. “Are you here on your own, Geoff? I mean... right now?”
Finally, Zowie's words seemed to make it through Geoff's shock, and with a shrug, he answered,
“Yes, I'm alone. I moved here on my own, and I still am. I was on my way to meet someone and-” He stopped himself mid-sentence and then smiled conspiratorially. “What do you say we have a cup of coffee together? I saw a nice café a few of streets away, a great place to catch up.” There must have been a glow of hesitation in her eyes, for his own took on a determined edge. “I won't take no for an answer, Zow. It's been too long and a lot has happened.”
Zowie tried to read a possible secret message behind his words, but gave up after a few instants; her head was pounding so hard it was beginning to make her sick. Would it work if she tried to talk herself out of it?
“I can't, Geoff... there are some things I need to do and...”
Geoff didn't need to say a word for Zowie to understand that there was no way out of it for her. Trying to run away meant attracting more attention on herself, and that was something she couldn't allow. He familiarly smoothed his hands up and down her arms like he had done a thousand times before, but it was a gesture that now made her frown with discomfort before she sighed with defeat. She didn't want to do that, she didn't want to answer questions, but refusing would only be worse.
“Okay, Geoff.” Zowie finally agreed with a sigh. “I'll go with you.”
“I'm torn and tattered,
shattered and worn.
I've had enough
trying to live my life
in the eye of the storm...
Every heartache
leaves a scar on my face.
Somebody reach out
or throw me a line,
get me out of this place...”
Whitesnake - Restless Heart
The sun that made Zowie squint also made her mutter a curse under her breath the minute she set foot on the sidewalk. Her head throbbed angrily and she was sure it was punishing her for exposing herself to such brightness, so she huffed in frustration. The idea of going back in did cross her mind, but the hunger that rumbled loudly in her stomach pushed her to go on. It was obvious that no one else would get the groceries, and if Zowie wanted to avoid a repeat of the scene in the apartment, then she would have to do it herself. That sole thought prompted her to go on.
This wasn't the normal way to live. Something inside her knew it and repeatedly told her so, but Zowie refused to acknowledge what had become of her life, knowing she would get nothing out of it. She needed a place to live and she needed the drugs, and if in order to get both she had to look past Matt's darker side, then she would, even if her survival instinct begged her to do otherwise.
There was an inherent danger to Matt's job that Zowie couldn't ignore. They lived in Westlake, less than three miles away from downtown Los Angeles', and not just that, every other apartment in their building was taken. It didn't matter that their neighbours were used to the parade of shady characters in their streets; if they did as much as pay a little more attention to the couple, putting two and two together wouldn't be hard at all. If they hadn't already.
What would be of them if Matt got caught? His possible answer to that question came easily to Zowie's mind: his parents would most likely let him rot in jail. There had been only one person in Matt's past that had cared about him enough to take him in when he had ran away from his parents' home at sixteen, that had loved him enough to try and help him with his addiction: Abigail Hudson, his grandmother. She had gone as far as leaving Matt her apartment when she died hoping the responsibility would help him straighten himself out, that it would offer him the stability he so desperately needed. But with Abigail, Matt's anchor, gone from his life forever... Zowie shook her head. If only the lady knew the things that now happened in her once beloved and well-cared-for home...
But what about her? Her mind urged the thought forward. If Matt went to jail, would someone contact her family to let them know she was in trouble with the law in a foreign country? Would they tell them about her addictions and what she had come to? The thought made her shiver despite the warm sun that burnt in the cloudless sky. Zowie had gone to such extents to hide her addiction from her family that she dreaded the idea of having to talk about it - and many other things - with them. They would never understand, just like they would never understand their own role in her issues. Zowie remembered Noemie's shock when she had told her she wanted to take a gap year so long ago and a sardonic yet very sad smile tugged at her lips. What would her mum think of her now? Would finding out that her daughter was an addict be the worst she had always expected from her?
Zowie's eyes skimmed over the now very familiar surroundings of South Union Avenue as a depressed sigh left her lips. What was it about that day that she simply couldn't stop feeling sorry about herself, couldn't stop thinking about the people from her past? The sight of the football pitch belonging to a nearby middle school only served to increase her melancholy. That part of her was gone, long gone, and it was time she got over it and began to deal with reality the best way she knew how: avoiding it with the help of drugs.
Trying carefully to keep her mind empty of all thought, Zowie took West 7th Street and focused solely on what step to take next so it would lead her to the small supermarket nearby, her eyes fixed on the cracked sidewalk. She had no idea what time of the day it was, but the position of the sun, high in the sky, told her it had to be around midday. Her stomach rumbled at the thought.
When was the last time she had eaten? Zowie frowned in her effort but the answer escaped her. There was a memory, a hazy one that told her she had eaten something the day before, but that had yet to do it that day and since all normality had long since vanished, Zowie failed to be surprised at the discovery. The pills usually suppressed her appetite and most of the times, once the effects ran out, she either felt too tired or her body ached too much to even think of moving, let alone eating. That wasn't the case that day, obviously, and although her muscles did complain some, the hunger was still there, biting at her stomach with angry pangs.
Zowie kept on walking, lost in her musings. The cracks creating spiderweb-like patterns on the sidewalk held her undivided attention, and when a body hit her squarely on her left arm, it did it with enough force to make her lose her balance. With her hands in her pockets and her reflexes numbed by the drugs, Zowie's body tilted backwards. A little yelp escaped her lips and although she did manage to free her hands, there was no stopping the unavoidable fall until a pair of strong hands grabbed her by the arms. Embarrassed, and feeling much too uncomfortable by the proximity of the stranger, Zowie struggled to free herself from that strong grip that made her arms hurt.
“Let go of me, you idiot! Can't you see where you're going?”
The anger and aggravation inside her grew with every word she pronounced, and while Zowie was ready to pounce on her victim with every bit of the aggressiveness the drugs awoke in her, she wasn't in any way prepared to meet a very familiar face staring incredulously at her.
“Geoff?”
Hadn't Zowie been half as shocked as she was, she could have probably found the stunned expression on the grown man's face amusing. His brown eyes were wide and her lips formed a silent O, but Zowie failed to find the hilarity in that; the coldness that slowly crept up her spine stopped her from doing so and her mind, usually under the stupor of the drugs, began to work at a speed it hadn't experienced in ages.
Geoff. Geoff was in Los Angeles. He was in the same country, the same state, hell, even the same city as her!
What was he doing there? Zowie knew she hadn't been exactly up to date with the latest gossip, but last thing she knew, Geoff was still in Wellington, still working with... her mind suddenly whirled at a pace that made her dizzy. Geoff worked with her dad, but he was in Los Angeles, and the thought sent prickles of fear up and down her spine. Did that mean William was there too? Zowie threw a scared glance around, fearful of what she would see.
“Zowie?” Geoff's voice echoed the astonishment in his expression. Unconsciously gripping her arms a bit tighter in a way that made Zowie grit her teeth, he pulled her close, as if still not believing his own eyes. “Is that you? Good God, I don't believe it!” Before Zowie could even part her lips to answer, Geoff had taken her in his arms in a tight hug she couldn't have possibly escaped from.
Fear quickly stomped its way into her heart. Geoff couldn't be there. His sole presence brought old pains and sorrows back to life with a vengeance, but above all, it smothered her with terror. He couldn't find out anything about her or her life. If he did, it would be a complete disaster.
“Yeah, it's-it's me,” Zowie finally stammered, her voice laden with uncertainty as she struggled to understand the implications of that event. Geoff's presence changed everything, and drastically at that, and the sense of safety that having an ocean between her and everyone she knew had put in her heart had been shattered. Nothing was safe anymore, and it scared her to death. “What are you doing here?” She finally asked. Then, incapable of holding herself back any longer, she added. “Are you... umm... alone?”
Geoff smiled, unaware of the trembling in Zowie's voice and of the turmoil his sole presence had unleashed inside her.
“I work here, Zowie.” Geoff said, his brown eyes dancing with joy and surprise. “I moved to Los Angeles little over a year ago. I tried to contact you as soon as I got here but I was never able to. But how are you doing?” He asked enthusiastically. “It's been so long, Zowie... when was the last time we saw each other?”
Zowie felt sick. Couldn't Geoff just answer her question and get over with it? She wasn't interested on exchanging pleasantries; in fact, all she wanted to do was go home, lock herself up and not come out until she had found a way to move to the opposite end of the country to a place where she knew for sure that these kind of surprises wouldn't happen anymore. If she had to face the one person she had been avoiding for years, Zowie would break down, and she couldn't allow that.
“I can't remember, really.” She muttered as an answer. And it was true. When was the last time she had seen Geoff? At the Rings' wrap-up party? If she had, she had been much too focused on spending every possible minute with Orlando to care about someone she saw every day like Geoff. Still needing to know what she was facing, Zowie insisted. “Are you here on your own, Geoff? I mean... right now?”
Finally, Zowie's words seemed to make it through Geoff's shock, and with a shrug, he answered,
“Yes, I'm alone. I moved here on my own, and I still am. I was on my way to meet someone and-” He stopped himself mid-sentence and then smiled conspiratorially. “What do you say we have a cup of coffee together? I saw a nice café a few of streets away, a great place to catch up.” There must have been a glow of hesitation in her eyes, for his own took on a determined edge. “I won't take no for an answer, Zow. It's been too long and a lot has happened.”
Zowie tried to read a possible secret message behind his words, but gave up after a few instants; her head was pounding so hard it was beginning to make her sick. Would it work if she tried to talk herself out of it?
“I can't, Geoff... there are some things I need to do and...”
Geoff didn't need to say a word for Zowie to understand that there was no way out of it for her. Trying to run away meant attracting more attention on herself, and that was something she couldn't allow. He familiarly smoothed his hands up and down her arms like he had done a thousand times before, but it was a gesture that now made her frown with discomfort before she sighed with defeat. She didn't want to do that, she didn't want to answer questions, but refusing would only be worse.
“Okay, Geoff.” Zowie finally agreed with a sigh. “I'll go with you.”