Need You Now

A short story inspired by "Need You Now" by Lady Antebellum

I tried to fight it.

     But, I knew as I drowned another shot of whiskey down my throat, that there was no way I could avoid what I knew was inevitable. The alcohol provided some sort of comfort�"it scraped the edges of my throat rawer and rawer and I only craved it more as the night droned on�"a seemingly endless parade that I knew would be yet another one of the longest in my life.

       I didn’t really know why I continued to put up with him. He was never around, wouldn’t answer my phone calls, and had more flaws than the most imperfect person in this world. The fact that I never knew where he was and who he was with always worried me�"but I ignored this most of the time, drowning all my insecurities away with a bottle of whiskey.

Ignorance would be the end of both of us.

        We had another fight. This relationship was becoming duller as the months dragged on, and I soon realized that the spark--the fire--that I thought was once there between us was reduced to a tiny flame now. There was nothing that I could do to poke at that flame and make it burn brighter again. It simply sat idle, flickering smaller and smaller until I knew it would end up as nothing at all.

      And, as I slammed the door and turned away from that partying, drunk-filled bar only an hour ago, I knew that our fire had burnt out. It was stupid, and I always fell back into this same routine after our arguments. I had a breaking point, and no matter how much I tried to fight it�"the need to feel happy again ate away at me uncontrollably.

    And before I knew it, I would reach for the items that would keep me company tonight: whiskey and our photographs. They always provided me the happiness I craved but didn’t deserve. This was my routine. And our faces in those old polaroid photographs�"completely happy and smiling�"seemed distant as I looked at them. I traced the corner of one of them with my finger, and despite my already dulled senses, I could still clearly perceive our smiling faces. Josh always had a winning smile, even though he denied it so many times.

    This particular photograph showed Josh and me in the pool, and there was no use in trying to avoid anything anymore�" the memory wormed its way into my brain and I was too tired to deny it.

It was the middle of july in franklin. Despite the heat, I still wore my skin tight jeans to mask my white chicken legs, even if I felt like I was being cooked underneath the hot sun. That day has been particularly the hottest day of the season. I kept all of my blinds down and the curtains closed in an attempt to cool off my house, without running up the ac bill.

After much urging, Josh coaxed me into coming over to his house that he shared with Zac and Taylor. Still refusing to put on shorts, I showed up wearing my leopard print jeans and a tank top, my swimsuit carefully hidden in my bag if I got desperate enough to swim. We only had been dating for a few months, everything still felt so new…in a good way of course.

"I don’t get why you’re still wearing jeans, it’s the middle of July." Josh smirked as he swam to the edge of the pool to greet me.

"Because I have chicken legs, and prefer not to show them off," I countered brushing his nose with my index finger.

"I like your chicken legs." He smiled up at me, shielding his eyes with his hand from the sun.

"Well that makes one of us," I giggled as I leaned down to kiss him. His lips met mine eagerly as he placed his hand over mine, gripping it gently. I felt him smile into the kiss as he pulled away and yanked my arm out from under me, causing me to topple forward into the pool. I plunged into the cool water, still gasping and sputtering as I reached the top of the water again, trying to see through the chlorine stinging my eyes. "You�"" I managed to sputter as Josh burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter.

I waded in the water, fuming at his obvious amusement, hating to admit that the cool water actually felt really good. I luckily had worn my swimsuit underneath the clothes and managed to get out of my soaked skinny jeans and jump back into the pool, purposely splashing water in Josh’s face. "Have you forgiven me yet?" he asked, pouting his bottom lip as he swam closer to me. I wrapped my arms around him and shrugged, my mouth curling into a grin.

"Well isn't this cute," We heard his brother gush as he stood by the pool. He pulled out his phone and crouched down."Come on you two, smile." Josh and I looked at each other and laughed before smiling for the photo.

   I downed another shot of whiskey before shoving the polaroid to my side. I was lying down now, sprawled out against the carpet with my hair cascading all around me, sober enough to be able to think straight. I missed Josh right now. I needed him, and although my pride tried arguing with me, there was no use trying to contradict myself. He was the best relationship I’d had in a long time. He was my best friend, and it had both taken us a long time to get to the point where we were.

    So many memories were stored in the years that passed before us, in our past. They were stored away in my mind and all I needed was a polaroid photograph to trigger them. It was like a t.v. show in my head, and I could replay the shows whenever I wanted to. And no matter how much I tried to deny it, I enjoyed the memories. I enjoyed being happy. People make mistakes, don’t they? Josh was completely wasted at that party�"that party that he went to without me�"and could I really blame him for accidentally kissing the redhead that he promised he thought was me? Anything could go on in a drunk’s head�"maybe he was telling the truth. He would never lie to me, I knew that. I would have never thought that a redhead girl would become a reason for us to fight. But I also couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe he was lying. Maybe he kissed her because he was bored of me. Of us. Maybe he realized something before I did.

     Did he even love me anymore? It was only now that I realized I was crying. I grabbed for another picture and involuntarily, a smile was on my lips. This picture�"this memory�"was one of my favorites.

      "No! Seriously, you have no idea how to tie a tie, do you?" My hands fell over his neck and tugged on the tie that he had around it. Josh simply grunted and huffed out, making a show of how annoyed he was at me, but I only giggled. After numerous attempts at tying his black tie, all of which ended in failure, I had to step in. "There," I said, pushing back from him a little bit and admiring the view of the handsome young man in front of me. "I am so good."

He turned around and finally faced himself in the mirror behind him, eyes widening with shock that I had to giggle again. "Wow, Hayles. You are good. You sure know how to pick out tuxedos, too."And then he turned back around to look at me, and he took in a deep, long breath. His eyes fell down to my dress. "But next to you, I looked like a piece of crap. I mean seriously, look at you. You’re gorgeous."

I rolled my eyes at his compliment, hearing the complete corniness inside of it, unable to stop the blush from filling my cheeks. I twirled myself around and headed for the door of the hotel room before he could catch it. "You do not look like crap," I said from behind my shoulder as he followed me out the door.

We were attending the wedding of my good friend Bekah together, and as Josh and I made our way out into the room where they’d hold the wedding, I couldn’t help but wonder at what our future would be like. Sneaking a quick glance up at him, I imagined me in a white dress, walking down this very aisle. I could already very clearly see what suit Josh would be wearing. His bow-tie would match the green details of my dress. It would be the wedding of my dreams. The ceremony was a heartbreaking one, but in a good, wedding type of way. I couldn’t believe one of my best friends was finally getting married, and the sight of her walking down the aisle with that bright smile on her face made my heart ache. It made me want the exact same thing she had, made me want a wedding of my very own, with Josh.

    I was sure about him, and the decision came instantaneously. He really was who I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, and the realization came in just a couple of seconds. At the reception, after a collective scream from the girls that were gathered in front of Bekah, I managed to catch the bouquet. And Josh caught the garter after diving for it like a madman.

It was cliche, and cheesy, I must admit, but absolutely perfect.

    He took me by the hand and pulled me to the side with the garter in his hand and the bouquet in mine. "Hello, wife-to-be," he said, pressing a hand against the back of my waist, referring to the fact that he and I both caught the wife and groom’s tossed items.

"You really mean it? You wouldn’t mind if I became your wife?"

"What kind of question is that? Of course I wouldn’t. I don’t think anyone would mind if you were their wife, Hayley." It was that way he generously gave me compliments that made me love him a lot.

Sometimes, I felt like I would never measure up to him in this relationship, doubting if I was good enough for him, but told me that he loved me and that convinced me enough. I liked how he made me feel, and I was completely certain of my feelings for him now, used to his presence around me. I knew who he was and he knew who I was. And me catching the bouquet and him getting the garter was a sign. We were meant to be.

"Dance with me?" He offered a hand and I took it, still struck by how handsome he looked tonight. He led me to the dance floor in the middle of the large venue, closing the distance between us, swaying us. "I love you," he muttered on top of my hair.

I closed my eyes briefly before looking up to face him. "I love you."

"Smile guys!" Zac popped in after we finished our dance, handing me my bouquet that I had unconsciously left on a table. Josh pulled out the garter from the inside pocket of his tuxedo and held it up, posing for the camera. I did the same with my bouquet, and with our free arms wrapped around each other, the camera snapped the picture.

   I couldn’t stand looking at the pictures anymore. I was drowning myself in memories, I wasn’t sure if I would ever get out of this hole that I sucked myself into. I never drank until things started going downhill with Josh. He was my support system for everything. Now, the only thing I could turn to was my bottle of whiskey, nearly empty; depriving me of the numbness I craved to take away the pain. I poured the last of the whiskey in my shotglass and downed it.

   I ignored the sting in my throat as another wave of the numbness came over me. I needed him like I needed air to breathe. It was no longer a need, but a necessity. I stumbled over to the counter and grabbed my keys, hoping to be able to find him at the party. I fumbled to unlock my car door with my keys, dropping them twice before finally getting in and putting them in the ignition. I squinted my eyes to try to see clearly as I got out of my driveway, instinctively remembering to fasten my seatbelt before gunning it down the road.

     What if he didn’t want me anymore? Maybe he found someone else at the party. Maybe a girl with fewer problems, a better body, a few inches taller. I glanced at my reflection in the rearview mirror. I was drunk and looked like hell. It only furthered my anxious assumptions about what was going on about the party, and my future. It didn't help that the lack of sleep was starting to wear on me intensely. I wanted nothing more to just close my eyes and slip away, letting whatever could happen, happen. Josh is better off without me.

    My eye lids grew heavy as I sped through an intersection, a bright light to my right was blinding my vision, with only a few seconds to realize what it was before everything went black.

      I heard the faint sound of a heart monitor. My eyelids fluttered open as a bright light filled my vision. I opened them wider, slowly, letting my eyes adjust to my surroundings. The first thing I saw was the faded pink walls of a hospital room, then at my leg engulfed in a very large cast. My body ached all over. I continued to look around at the room until my gaze stopped at Josh, who was out cold in the chair beside my bed.

    My first instinct would have been to call out to him, shout his name until he woke, but the peaceful man who sat in that chair looked just as disheveled as I was. The lines on his face weren't there when I last saw them, wrinkles that distorted his face into an angry scowl. And I wanted to touch him, smooth out that face if it were even possible, run my hands across his cheek until he woke.

But I couldn't find my hands. There were no feelings that lingered there, and I still didn't have the strength to lift them. "Josh," I whispered, when I finally found my voice. It came out choked, weakened from the accident, and I wasn't surprised how my throat ached as I said his name.

  If that was caused by the pain or just my longing for him, I didn't know, but it didn't matter now. He was waking up. It was funny, how here and now, our positions sort of changed. Normally the patient wouldn't be the one waiting for their relatives--or boyfriends--to be waking up. "Thank God," he muttered, grabbing for my hand right away, and although I cringed on impact, it didn't bother me.

   I hadn't realized until now how much I wanted him to touch me again. And I began to face the facts in the simple seconds that we spent looking at each other right then. I faced the fact that I needed Josh, and I couldn't fight him, nor could I stay away. Why else would I be huddling close with our memories and photographs if I wanted to stay away from him? Why else would I crave to be happy again, to feel what he made me feel?

     It all clicked together and it made me feel ill to think that it took this long for me to come to terms with it all. I closed my eyes tight and tried to just float, without the pain, without the ache, with Josh's hand holding mine.

   As if it would make it all go away, erasing everything that ever happened and letting the elation wash over us both again. Start new. But as my eyes opened and my surroundings set in again, I knew that was impossible. But Josh was still here, wasn't he? "Hey," I croaked again, a sound that I strained to let out now.

    And he appeared to know my thoughts as he brushed a hand against my cheek while whispering out a lulling "shhh" to me. The brush of his hand against my face had my eyelids falling down, as if closing my eyes would make the pleasure of the gesture last longer.

     "You're a mess," he told me with a voice that was oddly cold yet teasing, letting me know that our fight was still well placed into his head. Had I overreacted? It was just a kiss... "I can't believe you drove drunk, Hayley. I know even you aren't that stupid." I was tempted to argue that he drunk, too.

   His words were light, nonchalant, even, but in my chest rolled a nausea and ache that I cursed myself for even feeling. He was just joking around, and yet I took in the words with more emotion that I should have. Stupid, sensitive mind.

   "How did you know I was drunk?"

  He sighed, his face telling me that he didn't like reminders of the fact. "The doctor told me. I was the one they contacted. The police found my number written in your wallet." I imagined what the scene he had to go through looked like: the serious faces of the police officers, interrogation, maybe even being blamed for my drunk driving. Hospital papers and then this, having to face me. My face twitched involuntarily, and as I felt the heap of hair that must have been mangled and strewn all above my head, I craved for a mirror.

    "Hayles, what made you drink, anyways? Was it..." It was hard to ignore the shift of emotions in his face, and so many flooded it, creasing into some scowl of deep thought, and then calm, and then nothing at all. The expressions were hard to read, and Josh didn't at all look like that happy guy I had loved and adored in all these years of our relationship. He looked like a stranger.

He felt like a stranger to me. "Was it because of what I did?"

"I just felt betrayed. I didn't think you'd ever do that--"

"But I was drunk, too! I thought it was--" I cleared my throat to let him know I didn't appreciate his interruption. And it didn't take less than a second for him to become aware of this, sinking backward in his seat but letting go of my hand. I liked it, it made me feel wanted, and eased this situation just a little bit.

"Anyways," I continued, "I know you were drunk. I just wanted to let you know that it was all really...overwhelming at the time. But then you told me you knew thought it was me--"

"Which was true." I shot him another glare and he shut his mouth.

"You thought it was me. But how can I know you're not lying? You've shown all the signs...you acted like you didn't want me anymore, I just..." I choked back a sob, the pain in my chest worse than anything else at the present moment. "I just wanted to lie to myself and say that it wasn't true. That you did still love me. But now...I...I don't know anymore." I sucked in a shaky breath and finally managed to breathe.

   His clutch on my hand only tightened, in reaction to all that I had said, and I pulled my head back against the hospital pillows, my eyes staring up at the blaring flourescent lights above me. They were too bright for my heavy head, inducing dizziness, vertigo...and in moments I was certain I'd pass out again.

Josh's voice prevented that from happening. He cupped his free hand around my cheek this time and held it there. "I'm sorry. For ever even going to that party in the first place. I'm sorry for getting drunk, for kissing someone else, for just leaving you alone at the house like that. But you want to know what I'm most sorry for?"

"What?"

"I'm so, so sorry for hurting you that way." We shared a long, tight stare for quite some time. It was silent in this room, but even that silence seemed insignificant as we were lost in our own little world. And I wanted to believe that we were okay again, that perfection was at our reach and the length of my fingertips had touched it. I knew it wasn't true. But I wanted to believe it. "Apology accepted?" Josh asked, smiling a lopsided smile that I could barely return with one of my own. His grip on my hand slackened a bit. I struggled to heave myself upward, at least into a sitting position.

      The pain in my ribs screamed and protested against all my actions, writhing in torture and hurt as I pulled upward. My pain tolerance was unnaturally high, I realized, for I managed to ignore the injury and sat upright. Josh helped me a little, his hand on the small of my back while he simultaneously adjusted the hospital bed for me. I looked at him, at the man I needed, and knew that now I had a choice whether to forgive him or not.

   His impossibly deep brown eyes penetrated mine, an advantage of his that I thought was unfair in all aspects, but even with those deep eyes jumbling my thoughts into incoherence, I knew clearly what my answer would be. "I forgive you," I acknowledged. The look on his face when he heard this warmed my heart and all parts of me, enough that the pain that burned seemed nonexistent. Instead, I was filled with a glow, an instant cure--it was love. And happiness, I guess, but mostly love. I loved him. I still did.

    Josh was observing my face now. I hadn't realized I was deep in thought and not looking at him anymore when I snapped back, but he was patient enough and when I finally did meet his gaze again, he smiled. "With your permission, I'm going to kiss you now."

    The cadance of his words made me realize he must have rehearsed the words in his head before actually asking me up front. Nevertheless, it payed off, for his voice came out irresitibly smooth. I leaned in like I remembered I did and tried to mimic the way I kissed him before. My lips pressed onto his with hesitancy but without the innocence, and in an instance, the hesitancy wasn't needed at all. Josh did the leading. It started out soft, and he was being careful, I could tell, but his efforts went mismatched as the need ate away at me and I kissed back madly. I could feel them exploring, tugging on his bottom lip, eliciting moans. It was just us, fused into one, perfectly connected by our lips and the feelings we shared. Everything was new and fresh as I pulled away, vivid in my eyes.

     My cheeks flushed red, I couldn't help it, and as I bashfully fell back against the pillows, Josh's hand slid back into mine again. Relationships weren't always perfect, but they weren't easy to break, either. It took a lot for two people to finally fall apart, and I knew, as Josh smiled at me in that giddy, lopsided way, that he and I weren't breaking any time soon.

"Do you have my phone?" I asked him, eyes already alert as they scanned the room for any sign of my belongings. He nodded and ambled toward an unseen couch from behind the hospital curtain and had my cell phone in his hand by the time he came back to me. I held it between my hands and pressed buttons until I got the camera on it going, and I held it out, pulling my face closer to Josh's. He was confused for a second, I could feel his face twitch into confusion as my skin pressed against it. "Just smile," I ordered him, and so he did, lips pulling up into a grin as I snapped the picture.

"What's it for?" He asked as we hovered over the screen to look at it. I looked like hell, my make up smeared and face pasty, but it was still something.

"It's just so I can remember this moment," I said simply, and that was enough for him as he settled back into his chair beside me and fumbled with the television controls.

Just another photograph for me to treasure, I figured. A memory, a thing to look back on and smile at. Hopefully, the next time I was looking at those pictures and remembering those moments, I wouldn't have a bottle of whiskey accompanying me.

Author's Note

Please let me know what you think!

Reviews

[Miss unknown]

hm..that is kinda cute. I think there were way too many descriptions about the past. I would just skip some of them. but nonetheless, a cute story.