20
Ryan
I’ve been sitting in the car, parked in front of her house, for about forty-five minutes. “A rational person with a brain and an education would never sit here like a dick, breathing in and out of a paper bag, rehearsing conversations in their head, trying to find the right words to sayI was a fucking idiot, I’m sorry.” But I can’t force myself to say the words. They’re trapped in my mind, trying to find the exit, but they just won’t make it onto my tongue.
Get up…come on…why are you scared?
Even Oasis are making fun of me, through the car radio. One of my brothers must have tuned it – unless my mind is just playing tricks on me.
I know it shouldn’t be hard, but I can’t do it. I goes against everything that I am. Against all my logic. I shouldn’t care what she thinks, that she knows I think she has a huge arse. And all the other horrible things I said. I shouldn’t keep causing drama – I mean, what did she do? She helped my father. Someone she barely knew. She took care of him, sat with him, contacted us for him.
Just take what you need… And be on your way… And stop crying your heart out1.
Okay, Gallagher, I get it. There’s no need to rub it in. I hear you loud and clear, okay? Did you write those lyrics just to torment people, make them lose their minds? It isn’t nice, you know. Just mind your own business, and stop getting involved in other people’s thoughts, just to…to…Oh, damn it! Now I’m talking to the radio, too.
Okay, that’s enough.
I can do this.
One last breath and I put down the paper bag. I open the driver’s door and place my feet onto the ground. I get up and, with my legs like jelly, I walk towards the front door. I glance at the front window, but the curtains are drawn and I can’t see anything.
I gather up my courage and knock on the door, waiting with my hands in my pockets. I feel on the brink of a panic attack, but I’ve left my paper bag in the car.
When the door opens and her eyes look into mine – I can see now that they’re green,fuck– I understand that I’ve made a huge mistake, I’m standing in front of the wrong door for the wrong person.
“Ryan?”
“Hey, Chris…tine.”
“What are you doing here?”
WhatamI doing here?
I was a dick. I treated you like shit for no reason. I offended you just because I’m incapable of paying you a compliment. I didn’t thank you for helping my father, and my whole family, because I don’t know how to be nice to people.
“I…er…” I splutter.
Dick.
I hang my head and lean my shoulder against the doorframe, waiting for the words to come out of my mouth, but I’m frozen.
Come on, Ryan. You can do it.What the fuck?!
“I’m sorry, and…thanks.”
There, I said it. Didn’t I?
“I don’t understand…”
She’s not making things easy for me. Okay, let’s try again.
“I’m sorry for what I said about you this morning.” I shake my head, waiting for her response. “And thanks for helping out with my dad.”
“Your family have already thanked me enough. And about your apology: it’s fine. It was your opinion.”
Jesus, she’s difficult.
“Maybe I exaggerated.”
