I was stirred from my sleep when I felt a dip at the end of my bed, nudging my feet under the covers. I groaned, nuzzling further into my pillow with a huff.
"Oh - it lives."
I pulled my head from the comfort of my pillow, reluctantly, shooting a glare at the figure sitting by my feet.
"You're so annoying," I groaned, "it's too early, Grace." I turned to shove my head back into my pillow.
"Actually.." she trailed off, "it's 11:30."
I sat bolt upright, my heart dropping to the pit of my stomach. My work reports were due two hours ago.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I hissed, clambering around my bed in search of my phone. Finally, I retrieved it from underneath my covers, bewildered as I scrambled to unlock it and open up my emails.
"Good morning, Isabella - just checking in to see if you've got those reports finished up..."
"Good morning, Isabella. Just a follow-up in need of those reports-"
"Hello, Isabella - I'm becoming a little confused regarding the delay on those reports.."
"Shit," I groaned, bringing a dismayed hand over my face. I opened up the files quickly, sending them off, accompanied by a desperate apology, not entirely sure if I'd even properly finished them last night. Grace had been watching my urgency, a slightly amused look on her face.
"If you weren't so upset, this would be entertaining," she said, a teasing yet sympathetic grin on her face. "It's Saturday, why are you panicking about work?"
"Duty calls," I yawned, before flopping back down onto my pillow, defeated. I bit my lip. I knew I wanted to live a little differently, but unemployment didn't seem to be the most appealing jumpstart.
"If you've fucked up badly, do we think there's a chance they'll fire you?" she asked me, playfully crossing her fingers in mock hope, and I rolled my eyes. Grace, like Johnny, just didn't want to see me stuck in this rut any longer, and it was certainly the firm, in a literal aspect, that held me there.
"Ha, funny," I shot back, as my phone buzzed with another notification - my email had been responded to.
'Thank you for sending those over, Isabella, though they would've been much more greatly appreciated prior to the meeting this morning.'
I sighed again, shaking my head, knowing I'd made a big mistake in not getting them over to them sooner. I hadn't meant to sleep so long - I was often an anxious early riser, up far before I needed to be. It appeared last night had taken a lot out of me.
"There's nothing you can do about it until Monday, Izzy, don't stress." Grace offered me some reassurance, and I only shrugged, biting on my nail. I knew she was right, but I hated disappointing. I hated doing the wrong thing. "What you can do, however... is tell me what you were doing last night."
I glanced up at her, a tiny smile twitching onto my lips, as her own face broke out into an expression of disbelief.
"Or should I say who?!" she squealed, shuffling closer to me, catching the flush I could feel growing on my cheeks. "Are you serious?"
"I didn't say anything.."
"You didn't need to!" she exclaimed, reaching for my arms. "You went out and got laid without me?!"
I laughed at her words. "That's absolutely not what happened," I shook my head, smiling down at my lap. I ran my hand over my bare arm, thinking back to last night and feeling a slight flutter in my stomach at the recollection. "Not exactly," I added, watching her face break out into a shocked grin.
Grace was my best friend - in fact, she was basically my only friend. She was also my roommate - we had moved out to London together for university, and our student lease allowed us to remain in the apartment over the summer.
Grace and I had grown up together, and she knew me better than anybody else. She knew my history, she'd known my family. She just got it; she just understood. Grace was a lot less reserved than I was, but I often figured that was why we worked so well. She was constantly begging for me to step out of my comfort zone - but she understood all too well the struggles that came with doing so. She'd seen, first-hand, everything I'd been through, personally, and had supported me through every step. Which is why my behaviour the night before - or at least, the amount she knew of - would've come as such a surprise.
Grace also knew the complications of my law degree. She was studying English Literature and Journalism, wanting to eventually work as a journalist one day. I envied that about her, but more strongly, I was so happy to see her pursue exactly what she wanted to. And I knew she wanted the same for me - she wanted me to do what I wanted to do, but she also understood exactly what was holding me back.
"So, what happened?" she asked excitedly, "I thought you were just stopping by Johnny's for a drink - I didn't expect to hear you sneaking in like a 16-year-old in the middle of the night."
"I did stop at Johnny's," I said honestly, biting on my nail again. "And then I got talking to someone, and went back to his place for a bit." I wasn't exactly lying. Just omitting.
Grace's eyes narrowed, "You went back to his place? Do I know him?"
I shook my head. She certainly didn't know him personally, but I didn't dare disclose his identity, for I knew incredibly well that she did, indeed, know who he was. I wasn't sure I knew anybody who didn't.
"So... I'm starting to get the vibe that you had sex with him," she said, watching my face carefully as I buried it into my hands. "Oh my god, you had sex with him!"
"Grace-"
"What about Calvin?"
I frowned, slightly surprised by her question, "What do you mean? That ship has definitely sailed."
"Completely?" she asked, genuinely. Her tone told me she wasn't being accusatory in the slightest. "This isn't the first time you two have broken up - though I'm all for it being the last... sleeping with someone else just seems very final."
I bit my lip, "I'm extremely done with him, Grace. It wasn't working, and we weren't right for each other. It was a mutual thing. We haven't even spoken since things ended, ages ago. Trust me - Calvin isn't even in the picture. Plus, even if he did come back into it.."
"Which he won't.." Grace eyed me, carefully. She didn't have to convince me at all - Calvin, or getting back with him was the very last thing on my mind. I had absolutely zero interest in doing so - a part of me would always care for him, yes, but not in the romantic way that I'd attempted to manufacture, at his command. I hadn't gone into our relationship without my heart being in it - at least not to my knowledge. But, it took time to realise that Calvin and I were not right for each other, by any stretch of the imagination. He didn't really know me, and nor did I know him. We never truly delved beneath the surface in our relationship, and I had formerly blamed myself a lot for that - for 'my failures', as he had called them, the final time he saw me a couple of weeks ago.
Something hadn't been right between us from the very beginning - I couldn't get close to him in the way he wanted, and I couldn't relinquish levels of control in the way he wanted. I couldn't be what he needed me to be, because that wasn't who I was. I'd never really felt differently, with anybody - I had never truly wanted to let people in, to divulge the darkest and deepest parts of myself. And, perhaps, in a relationship, that was selfish. Calvin, on multiple occasions, had angrily told me that if only I could have let him in, properly, and if I would've done more, we'd have been okay. And for a while, I believed him. Part of me still did. But I couldn't let myself spiral into what I'd done wrong; what I could've done better. I'd heard enough of that from Calvin, and from others, to last me a lifetime. If I allowed myself to focus on their words, I feared I wouldn't be able to pull back from it.
I wasn't capable of a relationship. I knew that, now. I wasn't able to give somebody what they wanted, or what they deserved. Calvin wasn't a bad guy - not really. It was me, who had insisted on keeping levels of distance between us that he didn't want. I feared commitment - I feared handing the emotional reins over to somebody else. I didn't trust anybody else to care for me enough - I needed to do it myself, entirely. If I allowed my guard to slip, even for a mere second, that was dangerous. That was vulnerability, and that was something I didn't dare to offer. I never wanted to place my heart into the hands of somebody else, because it was terrifying that they could, quite simply, do whatever they pleased with it. I wouldn't let somebody harm me again.
"Which he definitely won't," I confirmed, forcing a smile onto my lips and tearing myself from my thoughts. "Last night with Harry was casual. I haven't made any commitments. I just wanted to have a bit of fun, and forget about everything for a little while-" I cut myself off, catching the way in which Grace's jaw had dropped. I furrowed my eyebrows for a moment, before I brought my own hands over my mouth. I'd just said his name.
"Harry..?! His name is Harry?!" she exclaimed, urgently clawing at my arms like a child. I hadn't said his full name - thank god, I hadn't said his full name - if I had, I was sure the flat would've been lit up in flames by now. I'd been planning to keep the details to a minimum, but now I'd given her an inch, Grace would be desperate for a mile. "I need to know more, Izzy! Does he go to our uni? What's he studying? Are we sure I don't know him? There are two Harry's on my course-"
"Grace, I promise you've never met him," I told her honestly, "and no, he's not at uni. But, there isn't much to tell," I lied. I didn't have any real reason not to tell her - but last night had felt so deeply intimate that I didn't dare disclose the details. Instead, I kept it short. "I went to Johnny's, I met him there, we went back to his flat, and we hooked up.. that's it."
"Oh my god, this is so unlike you!" she beamed excitedly, "I love it! What was it like? I want the nitty gritty."
I could feel my face flushing a deep red, and I buried it into the pillow in my hands. Truthfully, it was amazing. I'd never experienced sex as I had with Harry last night. It was crazy to me - all the sex I'd had before was with people I had established connections, relationships, with; but last night showed me that those had all been insufficient. I just couldn't get him off my mind - not yet.
Thankfully, Grace's phone began to ring before I was forced to divulge any details, but she puzzled me by glancing at the screen and then hurrying out of the room to answer it. This was deeply unlike her, but I didn't dwell too much on it.
I peered around my room, tiredly. My eyes skimmed over the bookshelf in the corner, dedicated solely to my cameras. I had a few older, some new - most notably, my newest, most modern camera that I'd purchased only a couple of weeks before. Purchasing it had meant that I couldn't afford to go food shopping for a week, and I was living off bowls of stale cereal and instant noodles, but I figured it was worth it - I adored it.
My eyes then landed on the sweatshirt that Harry had given me last night, hanging over the back of my desk chair. A small smile tugged on my lips as I couldn't help but recall how he'd handed it to me before I left.
I wondered what he was doing, now. I wasn't sure if his tour had ended last night - if it had, surely he'd have been out celebrating with friends, or other people from the tour. Surely he'd have been doing something much grander. Maybe he was jetting off to another city, now. Maybe he was only just waking up, as I was, reminiscing on the night before. Or perhaps, he wasn't paying me a second thought. That wasn't an unbelievable prospect.
I wasn't even sure how he'd stumbled across Johnny's - was he really just wandering across London, on his own, in search of a drink?
I subconsciously raised my hand to trace my thumb over my bottom lip, remembering how it had felt for Harry to tug it between his teeth. I was giving myself this moment to remember how last night had felt, before I became determined to push it from my mind. Harry and I wouldn't see each other again - we hadn't even exchanged numbers. Instead, he would be a mere catalyst for the way I would continue onwards - I needed to do at least one thing, for me.
And the first step was to enrol on that photography class.
I grabbed my phone and clicked on the link I had stored in my notes. Both Johnny and Grace would be so proud of me, and I would be, too. I loaded up the page, scanning over the details upon it.
"Hey," Grace suddenly resurfaced in the doorway of my bedroom, "I have to talk to you about something."
I frowned, looking up from my phone. "Is everything okay? Who was that on the phone?"
"Well.." she began, walking back into my room and taking a seat beside me on my bed. "Do you remember my cousin, Ally? The one who works in music management."
I nodded, waiting for her to continue.
"Well, she reached out to me yesterday.." she paused, watching my face with an eager grin. I couldn't yet mirror it, because I wasn't at all sure where she was going with it. "One of her artists is about to begin a US tour. One of her big artists - I'm talking a sold-out arena tour. And they've lost their photographer.." she grabbed onto my hand, squeezing it tightly. "And I told her about you."
My eyes widened, "You.. told her about me?" I questioned.
Grace nodded, "I told her I know an incredibly skilled photographer, just waiting for her big break... and I sent her some of your photos. I showed her your work, and she loved it." At some point, as she spoke, my hand had risen to clasp over my mouth in shock. "The job on tour is yours, if you want it, Izzy."
I didn't speak. I simply stared at my best friend, grinning in front of me. I could've cried.
"It's June to September. Ten weeks on the road. Izzy, this is huge." She reached for my hands again, grasping them tightly in her own. "This is what you've needed, babe. You can spend this Summer doing what you should be doing."
"Grace," I whispered, "what about the firm? What about work? I can't just drop it all.." I trailed off, my voice dropping even further, barely intelligible, daring to speak the words that always lingered in the back of my mind, "I can't just give up."
"It'll still be here when you get back," she told me softly, her grip on my hands not loosening. "You can get some time off from the firm - you haven't missed a day since you started. You'll be back in time for our final year of uni to start... Izzy, this is everything you've waited for. You can't let it pass you by," she paused, and upon my sustained silence, I felt her squeeze my hand comfortingly. "It's not giving up... you're just taking a detour to do something for yourself. We both know how much you want this."
I was speechless. I couldn't believe what I was hearing - I couldn't believe how lucky I was to have a friend who would do this for me. She knew how much I was struggling - she knew how tired I was of the way things were. Even if I'd fully embraced the change I was seeking, I would never have been able to do it like this - not in my wildest dreams.
The sneaky voice in the back of my mind that so often prevailed, was telling me not to take it. It was telling me to say "thanks, but no thanks", and to stick to what I knew. I needed to work in the firm this summer, in order to get my degree and progress in the way I needed to. But I was still aching for change. I was aching to live for myself, one way or another. And Grace had just handed me a golden opportunity to do so.
I had figured the most daring thing to come out of my summer break would be this photography class - this would be the wildest, most spontaneous thing I'd done since I could remember. The idea of simply packing up and leaving to America, to work as a tour photographer - a position I certainly lacked the experience for - it was beyond comprehension.
I couldn't do that. I couldn't dream of doing that. I would be so, incredibly, out of my depth. I would be risking everything I'd worked for in gaining my position at the firm. I hadn't dared to give myself a taste of what I wanted, in fear it would be just that - exactly what I wanted. If I indulged; if I pursued photography, properly, it would take me away from Law, and that was exactly what I feared. I would be doing something for me - not for them, not for the sake of proving them wrong, but solely for me. And that petrified me.
"W-What about you?" I asked, watching Grace only smile and shake her head.
"I'll be fine here. I'd much rather you were off living the dream rather than having to see you so sad every day," she told me, and I knew she meant it in the nicest way. "You deserve this, Izzy. You deserve to be happy." I could feel my lip trembling at her mere sentence, as I threw my arms around her and pulled her into a tight hug. I was squeezing her far too hard, but I didn't care.
I couldn't fathom that she had done this for me. I wished I could've found words nearing significant enough to thank her. I didn't deserve it - but I wanted it. I couldn't let it slip away from me - I couldn't lose the golden opportunity that had landed in my lap - not only for me, but for Grace, who had found it for me - for Johnny, who so deeply wanted it for me, and for everything else in my life that seemed to have happened, for an opportunity like this.
"So does that mean you'll take it?" she asked me through a laugh, muffled by the tightness of our hug. I only squeezed her tighter, almost scared to let go. If I did, I would actually have to take the leap - I'd have to do this.
"When does it start?" I asked her tentatively, leaning back to face her.
"You'd leave on Friday," she told me, appearing elated that I was asking more questions, as if I was going to accept. "But I need to let Ally know today. Do you want it?"
Did I want it? Of course, I wanted it. But every other conscious part of me was screaming at me that it was a bad idea - it was stupid. If I let myself experience what I'd always dreamed of, I may never go back to what I needed to do.
But I wanted it - I really, really wanted it.
She watched my face, carefully, reading my inner turmoil so easily. She stood up from my bed, pulling her phone back from her pocket.
"I'll go call her," she grinned, heading for the door.
"Wait - Grace," I called her as she reached the doorway of my room, causing her to turn around as I realised I was severely lacking in information. "Who's the artist?"
Grace shrugged, "I don't know. She said she couldn't tell me until you'd accepted the job."
I frowned, "That's not cryptic at all."
"I know," she grinned, tapping away on her phone, before raising it to her ear as she waited for the line to connect. "Either way, it'll be life-changing," she sent me an excited look, before disappearing into the hallway.
That, it certainly would be.