Back to You

03 | Chapter Three

B O N N I E

Thirty minutes later, we pull up to the curb outside my house. Scott turns the car off and sits in his seat, facing me. I fidget in my seat. No idea what he was about to say. Scott has never been a fan of Josh, especially with the way I spoke about him. Scott never met Josh, but I would always tell him stories from when we were kids, so in a way, he knows him pretty well.

It would always go the same way, starting off with a pleasant memory before I would spiral into a pit of sadness when I remembered how he left me. Being one of my best friends, Scott automatically hated Josh without even knowing him. It just came with the territory.

"Bonnie," he sighs, grabbing my attention, "what happened tonight isn't such a bad thing." Now I stare at him, confused. That isn't the way I saw this conversation going. He throws his hands up in defense, "maybe it'll do you some good to get back on the horse." I know he is only trying to help, but the last thing I want to do is go around kissing any guy, not even twelve hours after my heart was shattered into pieces.

"I know. I just don't think I'm ready for that, at least not yet." I admit, "Especially not with Josh, anyone but him." Scott chuckles and shakes his head so slightly I almost miss it. "I get it," he shrugs, "He was your neighbor growing up and the boy you had the biggest crush on-" I gawk at him, completely taken aback.

"I did not have a crush on him!" I exclaim, my voice cracking slightly, telling him how big of a lie that was. I could never admit it to my younger self, but he was right. I adored Josh, whether you'd call it a crush, I don't know. The way I saw it, Josh was what I thought every guy to be, and I loved living life that way. In my eyes, he was perfect. From his laughter to his smile, Josh was the epitome of every Disney prince. In short, I basically worshiped the ground he walked on.

"Seriously?" he looks at me, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but the knowing smirk spreads on his face. "All you did was go on and on about him when we were younger. It was so annoying." I scoff, shoving his arm and brushing off his false accusations, but unfortunately for me, he isn't done. "You still do it now. Talk about him quite frequently, that is."

I know he isn't lying, but that's beside the point. "Whatever, I didn't have a crush on him then, and I don't have a crush on him now," I state unconvincingly. "I wish he never came back to town," I admit, and it's true. Him being back here brings with it drama I want to avoid.

It's been years since Josh left, and I was only just starting to move on with my life, finally accepting his absence. Almost all thoughts of Josh had left my mind, but not anymore. Now that he is back, things around here are going to get a little crazy.

"Enough about me, let's talk about you," I smirk at him, and he chuckles, "so, spill! who was she?" I change the subject, much to Scott's displeasure. He rolls his eyes at me, but he can't hide the grin trying to breakthrough. "I don't even know her name," he admits with a chuckle. "She just came up to me and kissed me all over," he winks at me, and I pull back in disgust.

"Seriously? what had she been kissing when I interrupted?" I cover my mouth, pretending to vomit, and he laughs. "Well, she didn't get that far, but if you didn't come along, I don't think it would've taken much convincing."

"You're gross."

"You love me," he counters, and I sigh, "yep, unfortunately, I do."

•••

I wake the next morning to a loud, annoying rapping on my bedroom door.

"What time is it?" I grumble to myself, dragging my blanket down from covering my eyes. The sunlight shoots through my open curtains, temporarily blinding me as I reach around, trying to find my phone.

Eventually, I locate it, dragging it in to join me under the soft, warm covers. Tapping on the screen, I first notice the time.

10:12 am.

Shit, I slept in again.

The loud, repetitive knocking starts again. I swear if they don't stop knocking on my door, no matter who it is, I will murder them.

"What!" I groan, slowly dragging my tired body up and out of bed, my body instantly missing its warmth. "Honey, we have a visitor." Of course, it was my mother; only she would annoy me this early on a Saturday morning.

Just to clarify, by early, I mean it's still morning.

"I don't care; I'm still sleeping!" I bark back, hoping that would be enough for her to back up and leave me alone. My door creaks open slightly, and I see mom's long dark hair fall through the c***k, followed by half of her face, looking all too pleased with herself.

"I think you should come downstairs and say hello Bon," She whispers, almost like she doesn't want the said visitor to hear our conversation."You don't want to be rude now, do you?" she questions, but really that is her way of telling me to get the hell up before she comes in here and drags my ass out there herself.

"Who could be that important?" I question, not really to mom, but she takes it and rolls with it. "Just come downstairs, there's fresh coffee waiting for you,"

I'm obviously not in the mood to entertain anyone right now, but mom knows the way to my heart, coffee. She always pulls the coffee trick on me, and it works every damn time.

"Fine, I'll be down in a minute," I admit defeat begrudgingly. Pleased with my answer, she closes the door quietly before walking away. Seriously, who would be here that my mom is so excited for me to see?

After the dream I had last night about kissing Josh, I'm not in the greatest of moods. No way in hell that actually happened, right? It couldn't. Josh hasn't lived here in years. When they left, it took one month before a new family moved into their house. Over the years, there have been plenty of families coming and going living in Josh's house, but I never thought to question that. I had just assumed they sold their house when they moved away.

The mere thought of Josh being back in town was laughable. The jackass left without a word four years ago. He would be stupid to show his face around here again, especially to me.

I don't bother changing out of my pajamas, not wanting to lose their warmth and comfort for anyone. Whoever is downstairs is just going to have to deal with my morning appearance. Lucky them. I do, however, run a brush quickly through my hair, throwing it up into a loose bun on top of my head. Looking at myself in the mirror, I sigh, "this is as good as it's going to get."

Walking downstairs, I can hear two voices. There were too muffled to make out who they are, but I can tell it was, without a doubt, a male voice alongside my mothers. God, I hope this isn't another one of my mom's temporary lovers wanting to meet the family, aka, me. It wouldn't be the first time this had happened if that were the case.

I reach the bottom of the stairs, and a sense of panic washes over me. Now that I am closer, I can hear the voices clearly now. I sneakily walk over to the wall separating the kitchen from the hallway and glance around the corner.

There I see mom, with her back to me, and a tall guy standing slightly in front of her, leaning against our kitchen counter.

"What the fuc-" I gasp, covering my mouth before the words fall out. What is he doing here?!

I jump back in shock, using the wall to shield me. No way in hell do I want to risk either of them seeing me. I take in a shaky breath and try to pat down my loose tank top, desperately trying to unwrinkle it as fast as possible, but nothing can tame this mess, and I know it.

"Bonnie, is that you?" apparently I wasn't quite enough for mom's supersonic hearing. I swear on any typical day, she must pretend not to hear me half the time, but when I need her to be a little less attentive, this happens. A little consistency wouldn't hurt, mother.

"Yeah, I'm coming," I lament. I have no choice now but to walk around the corner and into the kitchen, feigning surprise when I see him standing there so casually. I stand up straight, taking in a deep breath to center myself. I can do this. He will not get the best of me.

I step around into the kitchen; my eyes glued to Josh and that stupid smirk he seems to wear so casually now. I don't remember him smirking like that when we were younger, but I guess a lot can change in four years. I can't seem to look away from him as much as I want to. That smile, those eyes, that jawline, all of it, holding me hostage. The only problem though, I'm a willing participant.

Mom follows Josh's stare, and her eyes land on me, now standing behind her dead still like a freaking statue. "Oh, Bonnie, you remember Josh, don't you?" she smiles excitedly, her eyes wide and darting between us. Back and forth, back and forth, as if the movement of her eyes would push us together or to some realization.

"How could I forget my childhood best friend?" I grumble under my breath with my best sarcastic tone. Mom's angry stare burns into me now, and I instantly regret being such a brat. I know she is just trying to help mend our obviously broken bridges, but this isn't going to help. She can't fix this. No one can.

"Yes, I remember him. How could I forget?" I happily say, my best fake smile plastered on my face. This could not get any more awkward than it is right now, surely. She nods, pleased with my change of attitude, and moves forward with the conversation.

"Josh and his dad moved back into town so Josh can attend Northview College. Isn't that exciting?" Mom acclaims, clearly pleased with his accomplishment and presence, but me, not so much.

"Thrilling," I retort. Josh's lips curl up slightly, almost forming a grin at my sarcastic remark. Again, stealing my attention. I guess that answers one of the mysteries for me. They never sold their house, they just rented it out while they were gone. I guess that makes sense.

"It's nice to see you again, Bonnie, you're looking... good," he gazes over me, drawing his eyes up and down, taking in my disheveled form. That smug asshole. He knows exactly what he is doing. Playing Mr. nice guy in front of my mom, while also giving me any backhanded compliment he can think of.

My hands form fists and clench so hard they go numb. The nerve of him to stroll into my house and act like this and in front of my mom - who he knows adores him regardless of what he did to me. I wish she saw him the same way I did, but she never will.

If only she knew what happened last night, which is very apparent to me right now, it wasn't a dream.

There's an awkward silence hanging in the air, no one bothering to say another word. Mom stands there confused, looking back and forth between Josh and me, trying to gauge the situation. Our stares are locked on each other as if she wasn't standing directly between us.

"Well, I better head to the shops," mom interrupts our stare off, "I'll leave you two kids alone to catch up," and with that, she strolls out of the room.