Three Years Before

                                    

                                          
I looked out of the window, not being able to stop myself from comparing New York to London. It was too busy here in New York; too many billboards and screens and there were too many people going here and there. I didn't belong here in New York, and I already hated it even though I had only been living here for two months. My life wasn't here -- my life and everything I loved about it was back in London. 
                          
My heart twinged as I thought of London and of Cecily. Our goodbye had been anything but easy; she had come to the airport, along with her family, to say goodbye to me and I recalled the way we had both sobbed. Cecily and I had embraced each other for what had felt like an eternity, and our parents had to pry each other apart. I missed her so much and I wondered why I hadn't spoken to her that much since I had moved here to New York. Well, actually I did know why; it was because I was trying to forget London as much as I could. 
                          
The reason for that was Will and what we had done, and guilt washed through me, my breath hitching at the force of it. My goodbye to Will at the airport hadn't been easy either, although I had secretly known that it wouldn't be. I had hugged him and he had hugged me back surprisingly quite tightly; we hadn't said anything to one another, because some things were better left unsaid. I knew that he had been struggling with the guilt as much as I had. A part of me wished I could take it away from him; I didn't know why, but it hurt me to see him hurting. 
                          
I sighed and looked over at the clock by my bed. It was almost two in the morning and I had school tomorrow morning. This was what happened to me every night though, thoughts of London and what I had done with Will refused to leave my mind. I had nightmares about it nearly every single night and I didn't know how to stop them. No one understood how I felt -- well no one besides Will, but he was miles and miles away. I had to face this all on my own but I had no idea how and--
                          
I was abruptly ripped away from my thoughts by the sound of my cellphone ringing. I reached for it and then gasped out loud as I saw who was calling me; it was Will. I had not spoken to him since I had left London, and shock pierced through my body at the sight of him calling me. I answered the phone and held it up to my ear.
                          
"Will?"
                          
"Tessa." He spoke at once, his voice ragged and desperate. "I didn't think you would pick up."
                          
I sat up in my bed, worried at his tone. "Is everything alright? Are you okay?"
                          
It felt odd to be speaking like this to Will; it was rare that we were kind to one another, but I was concerned about why he sounded so desperate and tired. 
                          
"I can't do it, Tessa." Will spoke, sounding pained. "I can't live with the guilt anymore. It's nearly eating me alive."
                          
A jolt went through me as I realized what he was talking about, and I swallowed hard. I should have known that that was why he was calling me; there was no one else he could speak about this with besides me. 
                          
"I know, Will." I spoke quietly. "I feel guilty everyday too, but we have to move on somehow. We have to learn how to live our lives."
                          
"I need closure." His voice was hoarse. "I can't live like this."
                          
I frowned, my heart breaking at his tone. "Will..."
                          
"Why did you move to New York?" Will was asking me suddenly. "Was it to get away from me?"
                          
I felt surprised. "Why would you say that?"
                          
"At first, you didn't want to go and then, after what we did, you suddenly said you did. You wanted to leave because of me, didn't you? You couldn't stand being around me." He sounded nearly dead. 
                          
I bit my lip, hesitating. Will was correct; I had wanted to leave London because I couldn't bear to be around him, knowing what we had done. I was surprised that Will was even asking me this; he seemed out of his senses because this wasn't the Will that I knew. 
                          
"I left because I couldn't handle what we did." I replied finally. "It was too much -- I had to get away. It was just convenient that my dad got a job here."
                          
"I can't believe you actually left." Will's voice was quiet. "I didn't think you would."
                          
Something in my heart twisted. "I didn't have a choice. My parents wouldn't let me stay."
                          
"Cecily misses you." Will told me. 
                          
"Do you miss me, Will?" The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. 
                          
There a silence and I immediately regretted saying the words. I don't know why I had even bothered asking Will that; I knew he was going to say no. What about me would he even miss?"
                          
"Yes." Will's voice sounded strained. "I miss you, Tessa."
                          
The tone of his voice made me sit up straighter, and I felt my heart begin to beat faster. I wasn't sure why I was reacting like this, but I also couldn't deny my shock; Will actually missed me? Something in me felt mushy and soft and I couldn't wipe the small smile that crossed my face away. 
                          
"I miss you too, Will." I found myself telling him. "I never thought that I would, but I do."
                          
Will was silent for a few moments and then he spoke. "Will you come home to visit soon?" 
                          
I swallowed hard. "Do you want me to come home and visit?" 
                          
What was wrong with me? Why was I asking him all of these questions? And why did I even want to know them? I had never really cared what Will thought of me before, but I found now that I wanted to know. 
                          
"I do." He replied, his voice still strained. 
                          
"I want to come home and visit." I lied. "But I don't even know when I will." 
                          
"You're lying." Will saw through me at once. "You don't want to come home. You know you won't be able to face what we did, if you came back here."
                          
I closed my eyes, hating the fact that he always saw through all of my lies. Will had always been able to see through me and it was something I found odd. 
                          
"Can you blame me, Will?" I was asking him abruptly. "What we did - it was horrible."
                          
"I don't blame you." He exhaled. "I don't blame you, Tessa. I wouldn't want to come back here either. I don't even want to be here in London at all."
                          
Come here then, I found myself wanting to say, come here and live with me in New York - my mother and father would welcome you. But what was I even thinking? Will would never come here and it would be - weird if he did. I banished the stupid thought from my mind at once. 
                          
"You should go to sleep, it's late there." Will suddenly spoke, his voice clipped. "Goodnight, Tessa." 
                          
"I - goodnight, Will." I stuttered, confused by his abrupt tone. 
                          
Will then hung up the phone and I placed my phone back on my bedside table. I laid back down and turned over everything that had just happened, in my mind. A part of me missed Will more than anything, now that I had heard his voice again and I sighed to myself. It was a long time before I fell asleep that night.