Germination: papaya 9, white chocolate 8
Hello! This is my first post. May I have an author tag please? =)
Author: carnageincminor
Story Arc: The Art of Losing
Title: Germination
Flavours: Papaya 9 (I've got my eye on you), White Chocolate 8 (helplessness)
Rating: PG
Summary: This is the first/introductory segment to the main story arc. Jamie laments the return of her boyfriend's ex.
Word Count: 1,152
GERMINATION
Jamie
OK, so there's the three of us. It's always been the three of us. We've been best friends since year seven and have stuck by each other through thick and thin. In years to come, we'll be having coffee after work and chatting about hot guys and designer shoes and travelling the world and maybe even about our kids.
Except this isn't an episode of Sex and the City or Desperate Housewives, and after one and a half years since leaving school, we hardly see each other anymore. Our lives are splintering off in different directions. Everything's changing.
I see Mila sometimes on campus, usually when I pass the economics faculty, and we try to meet up for lunch once a fortnight. But Mila's very busy with class, and when she isn't at uni she's got a part-time job doing sales at Myer.
I see Crystal even less because she's working full-time now. She didn't like uni, said it wasn't for her so she quit after first year. She hangs out at night clubs every weekend with her new bunch of friends and all I really see of her is from party pics on Facebook.
So yeah. It's kind of sad how we're growing further apart. I don't know what's going on in their lives and they don't know what's going on in mine. It makes it hard to just pick up the phone and call one of them.
"Hey Jay, whatcha doing?"
I glance up to see my older sister peeking her head into my room, interrupting my thoughts. It's a welcome distraction. "Oh, nothing."
This comes out as more of a mopey sigh than I intended, so naturally, Erica raises an eyebrow at me. "Doesn't look like nothing." Her eyes drop to the pink plush bunny in my hands, the one that Brendan won for me at a carnival two months ago. "OK, what's wrong?"
I sigh, again. "It's Brendan."
Erica comes to sit next to me on my bed. "What did he do?"
"He hasn't done anything, not really. It's just... his ex is back, and I saw him talking with her this afternoon."
"Just talking?" Erica prompts, eyes narrowing.
"Just talking."
It sounds petty to get upset over something so trivial, but if you knew Brendan's ex, you'd know why the mere fact that they were talking gives me a sick feeling. Georgia Stewart is this super gorgeous, amazing, intelligent, over-achieving girl whom everyone likes. She was Brendan's high school sweetheart and they were together for a long time. The only reason they broke up -- agreed to break up -- was because she was going on exchange to France for a year and they weren't sure if the long distance would work. I used to wonder at the start of our relationship if Brendan still had feelings for her. He'd tell me he didn't, but I think that was just for my benefit. Now that she's back home, and now that I've seen them all happy and chatting together, well... that puts a real spanner in the works.
"It might not turn out to be anything," Erica says hopefully. "They're probably just catching up; I mean, she was overseas for a year."
"Probably." I nod, but remain doubtful.
"Have you spoken with him?"
"No, not yet." I saw them at the Bluestone Cafe when I was on my way to class. I was too chicken to go up to them. I don't even know if he's told her that he's with me now.
"Well, you should. And then you'll find out you were all worked up over nothing because Brendan loves you and he's not going anywhere." She wraps her right arm around my shoulder and gives it a light squeeze.
"Thanks, sis," I smile and lean into her briefly. She means well, but there are some things she doesn't know about because I had only shared them with my friends.
"I've gotta head out soon -- meeting up with the girls -- but if you need anything just give me a buzz, OK?" She gives me a pointed look, like she doesn't want me to sit all alone in the apartment and eventually turn into a bawling mess (I'm not at that stage, anyway) and so I wave her off, telling her I'll be fine.
After Erica leaves, I decide to take up her advice and dial Brendan's number.
"Hey, you've reached Brendan's voicemail, sorry I can't take your call, leave a message and I'll get back to ya."
Hearing that automated message has never made me so paranoid. I swallow hard, and it's a few seconds after the beep before I can stutter out something. "Um... hey, it's me. Just wanted to say hi. So... hi. Call me back if you're free. Uh, I guess I'll talk to you later. Bye."
God, what's wrong with me? My fingers are sweaty when I hang up, leaving wet tracks on the phone screen when I tap the disconnect button. My mind instantly conjures up images of Brendan with Georgia that I can't seem to block no matter how hard I try. No, I tell my imagination firmly. Stop it. Maybe his phone's on silent. Maybe he's at the gym. Maybe he's in the middle of dinner. Maybe he's having dinner with Georgia and they're going to get back together again and --
"Stop it!" I actually say out loud and stand up from the bed. Bloody hell. Erica knows me better than I do after all.
I pace around my room, agitated and fidgety. I really need to talk to someone.
Grabbing my phone again, I call Mila. It rings.
"Hey Jamie, what's up?"
I let out a silent breath of relief. "Hi Mila! Are you free at the moment? Can I talk to you about something?"
"I'm actually running late for a date; can I call you back?"
Dammit. So much for hoping I could talk to someone. "Oh. Well, uh, forget about it then. Have fun on your date."
"No really, I can call you back in about a couple of hours?"
"Don't worry about it. It's nothing major. You should get going. See ya later!"
"OK," she says uncertainly, "bye."
I flop down on my bed again with a groan. It hasn't escaped my attention either that it's been fifteen minutes and Brendan still hasn't called back. What could he be doing?
I check his Facebook updates but of course there's nothing relevant -- a handful of wall posts from his mates, he was tagged in some surfing photos from the weekend, and a status post at 10:24 AM about the rip-off price of petrol. Then I find myself scrolling through his old pictures, the ones with Georgia in them.
That makes me feel even worse.
Turning away from the computer, I pick up my phone again. I try my luck and call Crystal.
Author: carnageincminor
Story Arc: The Art of Losing
Title: Germination
Flavours: Papaya 9 (I've got my eye on you), White Chocolate 8 (helplessness)
Rating: PG
Summary: This is the first/introductory segment to the main story arc. Jamie laments the return of her boyfriend's ex.
Word Count: 1,152
GERMINATION
Jamie
OK, so there's the three of us. It's always been the three of us. We've been best friends since year seven and have stuck by each other through thick and thin. In years to come, we'll be having coffee after work and chatting about hot guys and designer shoes and travelling the world and maybe even about our kids.
Except this isn't an episode of Sex and the City or Desperate Housewives, and after one and a half years since leaving school, we hardly see each other anymore. Our lives are splintering off in different directions. Everything's changing.
I see Mila sometimes on campus, usually when I pass the economics faculty, and we try to meet up for lunch once a fortnight. But Mila's very busy with class, and when she isn't at uni she's got a part-time job doing sales at Myer.
I see Crystal even less because she's working full-time now. She didn't like uni, said it wasn't for her so she quit after first year. She hangs out at night clubs every weekend with her new bunch of friends and all I really see of her is from party pics on Facebook.
So yeah. It's kind of sad how we're growing further apart. I don't know what's going on in their lives and they don't know what's going on in mine. It makes it hard to just pick up the phone and call one of them.
"Hey Jay, whatcha doing?"
I glance up to see my older sister peeking her head into my room, interrupting my thoughts. It's a welcome distraction. "Oh, nothing."
This comes out as more of a mopey sigh than I intended, so naturally, Erica raises an eyebrow at me. "Doesn't look like nothing." Her eyes drop to the pink plush bunny in my hands, the one that Brendan won for me at a carnival two months ago. "OK, what's wrong?"
I sigh, again. "It's Brendan."
Erica comes to sit next to me on my bed. "What did he do?"
"He hasn't done anything, not really. It's just... his ex is back, and I saw him talking with her this afternoon."
"Just talking?" Erica prompts, eyes narrowing.
"Just talking."
It sounds petty to get upset over something so trivial, but if you knew Brendan's ex, you'd know why the mere fact that they were talking gives me a sick feeling. Georgia Stewart is this super gorgeous, amazing, intelligent, over-achieving girl whom everyone likes. She was Brendan's high school sweetheart and they were together for a long time. The only reason they broke up -- agreed to break up -- was because she was going on exchange to France for a year and they weren't sure if the long distance would work. I used to wonder at the start of our relationship if Brendan still had feelings for her. He'd tell me he didn't, but I think that was just for my benefit. Now that she's back home, and now that I've seen them all happy and chatting together, well... that puts a real spanner in the works.
"It might not turn out to be anything," Erica says hopefully. "They're probably just catching up; I mean, she was overseas for a year."
"Probably." I nod, but remain doubtful.
"Have you spoken with him?"
"No, not yet." I saw them at the Bluestone Cafe when I was on my way to class. I was too chicken to go up to them. I don't even know if he's told her that he's with me now.
"Well, you should. And then you'll find out you were all worked up over nothing because Brendan loves you and he's not going anywhere." She wraps her right arm around my shoulder and gives it a light squeeze.
"Thanks, sis," I smile and lean into her briefly. She means well, but there are some things she doesn't know about because I had only shared them with my friends.
"I've gotta head out soon -- meeting up with the girls -- but if you need anything just give me a buzz, OK?" She gives me a pointed look, like she doesn't want me to sit all alone in the apartment and eventually turn into a bawling mess (I'm not at that stage, anyway) and so I wave her off, telling her I'll be fine.
After Erica leaves, I decide to take up her advice and dial Brendan's number.
"Hey, you've reached Brendan's voicemail, sorry I can't take your call, leave a message and I'll get back to ya."
Hearing that automated message has never made me so paranoid. I swallow hard, and it's a few seconds after the beep before I can stutter out something. "Um... hey, it's me. Just wanted to say hi. So... hi. Call me back if you're free. Uh, I guess I'll talk to you later. Bye."
God, what's wrong with me? My fingers are sweaty when I hang up, leaving wet tracks on the phone screen when I tap the disconnect button. My mind instantly conjures up images of Brendan with Georgia that I can't seem to block no matter how hard I try. No, I tell my imagination firmly. Stop it. Maybe his phone's on silent. Maybe he's at the gym. Maybe he's in the middle of dinner. Maybe he's having dinner with Georgia and they're going to get back together again and --
"Stop it!" I actually say out loud and stand up from the bed. Bloody hell. Erica knows me better than I do after all.
I pace around my room, agitated and fidgety. I really need to talk to someone.
Grabbing my phone again, I call Mila. It rings.
"Hey Jamie, what's up?"
I let out a silent breath of relief. "Hi Mila! Are you free at the moment? Can I talk to you about something?"
"I'm actually running late for a date; can I call you back?"
Dammit. So much for hoping I could talk to someone. "Oh. Well, uh, forget about it then. Have fun on your date."
"No really, I can call you back in about a couple of hours?"
"Don't worry about it. It's nothing major. You should get going. See ya later!"
"OK," she says uncertainly, "bye."
I flop down on my bed again with a groan. It hasn't escaped my attention either that it's been fifteen minutes and Brendan still hasn't called back. What could he be doing?
I check his Facebook updates but of course there's nothing relevant -- a handful of wall posts from his mates, he was tagged in some surfing photos from the weekend, and a status post at 10:24 AM about the rip-off price of petrol. Then I find myself scrolling through his old pictures, the ones with Georgia in them.
That makes me feel even worse.
Turning away from the computer, I pick up my phone again. I try my luck and call Crystal.