‘So what if it is mine?’ I reply. ‘I’ll eat whatever I want. I’ll eat the whole bar if I feel like it. I’ll eat everything in the fridge.’
‘I’m just pointing out that maybe you eat too much, and you definitely drink too much.’
‘I’m a student,’ I remind him. ‘It comes with the territory.’
Alan rolls his eyes.
For a few minutes, we sit in silence. I aimlessly scroll on my phone, avoiding talking to him, before I realise that, you know what, in his own way, I’m sure he only has my best interests at heart. He thinks he’s looking out for me, so maybe I shouldn’t be so hard on him.
‘There’s this food festival thing in town tomorrow,’ I tell him. ‘Loads of pop-up street food vendors, bars, entertainment. A few of us were talking about going if you fancy it?’
‘I’ve got a big day in the gym planned tomorrow,’ he says.
Still, I persist. ‘Can’t you sack it off just for one day and come and have fun with me?’ I say, in my flirtiest voice. ‘I’ll give you a cardio workout that won’t kill your gains, if you know what I mean.’
I absolutely don’t know what I mean, but it sounds kind of sexy, and even if it doesn’t, the fact that I’m running my hand slowly up and down his chest should be a big giveaway.
‘Luca, do you think Lou Ferrigno got to where he is by taking days off?’ Alan says, pushing my hand away.
‘Honestly, Alan, I have no idea who that is,’ I reply. ‘To be completely honest, I rarely have any idea what you’re talking about.’
‘That’s why I’m trying to educate you,’ he says.
‘Or maybe, that might be why we shouldn’t be together,’ I blurt.
Before Alan has chance to say anything, Matt and Tom walk into the living room.
‘Oh, sorry,’ Matt says when he notices us sitting on the sofa. ‘You two having a quiet night in? I’m just getting changed, then we’re heading out. I told Tom to wait for me in here but …’
‘Don’t be daft, it’s fine,’ I insist.
‘Won’t be long,’ Matt says, before dashing off upstairs.
‘So, how are you two?’ Tom asks, taking a seat on the sofa opposite us.
‘Not too bad,’ I reply. ‘How are you?’
Awkward, awkward small talk. I hate it.
‘I’m not bad. Matt has talked me into a lads’ night out.’
‘No Cleo?’ I reply, and instantly wish I hadn’t. It makes me sound like I care – which I do, but I don’t want him to know that. But maybe they’ve broken up, and this is Matt’s way of cheering him up? Recently, Tom and Cleo have been over here a lot. It’s like they’re inseparable, and between Matt being Tom’s best mate, and Zach and Fifi going on double dates with them, I am sick of the sight of them. The jealousy eats me up in side. Seeing them together, all over each other, hanging out in my house, with my best friends, is as horrendous as it sounds.
‘She’s visiting a friend at Leeds,’ he says. ‘She’s staying over there, rather than catching the last train.’
‘Ah, OK.’
‘Why don’t you come for a drink with us?’ Tom suggests. It seems like he’s only talking to me, until he quickly glances over at Alan. ‘Both of you.’
‘I thought you said it was a lads’ night?’ Alan says.
‘Luca can be an honorary lad,’ Tom replies with a laugh.
‘Nah, Luca already said she doesn’t want to go out this evening,’ Alan replies.
‘No, I said I didn’t want to go for a run. I’d happily go for a drink.’
Alan shoots me a look, as if to say: I told you that you drink too much.
‘Nah, don’t fancy it,’ Alan says.
‘No worries,’ Tom replies. ‘You guys coming to the food festival tomorrow?’
‘Nah, got the gym,’ Alan says.
My God, even his voice is boring.
‘Are you coming, Luca?’ Tom asks.
Now there’s an enticing thought. Going with Tom, who I’d actually have fun with, rather than going with Alan, who would just complain the whole time and try to convince me not to eat anything.
‘I know Cleo won’t mind if you hang out with us,’ he adds.
I cannot think of anything worse than hanging out with Tom and Cleo for the day.
‘Sorry,’ I say. ‘I said I’d go to the gym with Alan tomorrow.’
‘You did?’ Alan replies in disbelief.
‘I did,’ I insist, even though I absolutely didn’t. ‘You were just telling me how I need to go.’
I probably shouldn’t have made that little dig in front of Tom, but I’m still seething over it.
‘Mate, you told her she needs to go to the gym?’ Tom replies.
‘I want the best for her,’ Alan tells him. ‘And you … I’m happy to help you work on that emerging beer gut.’
I see Tom raise his eyebrows.
‘You know, I think I’m going to wait for Matt outside,’ he says, pulling himself to his feet. ‘See you around, Luca.’
‘Yeah, see you later,’ I call after him. I wait until he’s gone before ticking Alan off. ‘Alan, that was so rude.’
‘I was just trying to be helpful.’
‘No, you were being rude,’ I correct him. ‘There is absolutely nothing wrong with the way Tom looks. He’s tall, he’s fit – he’s absolutely gorgeous.’
‘Oh, well, if you’re so in love with him, why am I your boyfriend and not him?’ he snaps.
I honestly ask myself that question every single day.
Chapter 19
Now
When it comes to men, it takes a lot to impress me. Muscles don’t do much for me – I learned that being with Alan. And expensive clothes don’t mean much to me, because a lot of money doesn’t always equal a lot of style. It’s very rare that a man’s job impresses me either, unless it’s something he has worked hard for, that makes a huge difference to society … but that’s not exactly something that is gender specific, is it? That’s just a good quality for a person to have anyway, male or female.
I’m sitting here, in the passenger’s seat of Tom’s flashy car, waiting to set off on our quick trip to McDonald’s so that we can enjoy the rest of the day without our stomachs rumbling. But before we set off, Tom reaches for a button in between us, and as he holds it down I watch the roof of his car start to disappear. Does he honestly think showing me his convertible will impress me? Because – I hate to admit it – he’s absolutely right. When I first saw his car, I couldn’t believe what a tosser he was, but now that I’m in it, watching the roof disappear inside the car, feeling the warm sun on my head, and eventually the cool breeze as we get moving, I can’t deny it, I love it.
I glance at the speedometer, to see if we’re going fast, or whether it just feels like it on these quiet country roads. It’s such an adrenaline rush, driving fast, feeling the change in sensation that you get with a convertible. It’s the breeze, it’s the sun, it’s the fleeting shade of the trees. I’ve got goose bumps.
‘So, what do you think?’ Tom asks, quickly glancing at me to gauge my reaction before turning his attention back to the road.
‘Meh,’ I say casually, with a shrug of my shoulders.
‘Meh?’ he echoes. ‘I even put you a power ballads playlist on.’
I did notice that the (also impressive) sound system was pumping out some vintage Whitesnake, but does he really think I’m that easy?
‘Sure, you look cool … but do you even care what you’re doing to the environment in this thing? Like, oh, girls think you’re so dreamy because you have a flashy car, but do you really need a car this powerful? Unless you’re overcompensating for something …’
Tom snorts with laughter.
‘Three things, Luca,’ he starts, pausing for a second to laugh again. ‘First of all, this is an electric car – so the environment is safe. Second of all, I don’t own this car. I couldn’t afford a car like this, it’s a prototype that I’m driving for work, so that I can write a review. Tha
t’s why I was stretching its legs last night, because I thought the road would be quiet. And finally, you got pretty up close and personal with me that time we slow danced, so you know I’m not overcompensating for anything.’
‘Oh,’ is about all I can manage to say. I feel every drop of blood in my body rush to my cheeks. I look out of the window to hide my red face.
I remember that night, back at uni, when we danced together. It was the night I thought we were finally going to get our relationship back on track. Spoiler alert: it didn’t happen.
‘Not that I drive an old banger, I do have a cool car – not a red Polo with a dinosaur decal on the back,’ he adds quickly. ‘And it’s a hybrid, so you and your newfound passion for the environment don’t need to worry …’
I ignore his blatant swipe at my car. I don’t care what he says, I love my red Polo. And I bought it used, so it came with the dinosaur sticker on the back. I removed one of his claws, to test the waters, but it’s been on there so long the paint has discoloured underneath. So that’s that, they dinosaur is staying.
‘I have always cared about the environment,’ I remind him.
‘Oh yeah, I remember the six days you were a vegetarian at uni.’ He laughs.
‘Erm, it was nine days, actually, and it was your fault I failed. It was the day before we all went home for Christmas, when you took me to McDonald’s for chicken nuggets.’
‘And here we are again,’ he points out. ‘On the way to McDonald’s, for chicken nuggets.’
‘Yep, my life is one, long, cruel Groundhog Day.’
‘And here we are again,’ he jokes, chuckling to himself. ‘On the way to McDonald’s, for chicken nuggets.’
‘Hilarious,’ I reply.
‘So, I had a chat with Fi, and the plan is to nip through the drive-thru and then head straight back to the hotel before anyone realises we’re missing,’ he says, changing the subject. ‘Although if Matt keeps drinking at the rate he is, I’m not sure he’ll be able to see straight enough to realise we’re not there anyway.’
‘Yeah, or maybe if he gets another eye infection,’ I reply, ‘he won’t realise we’re not there because he won’t be able to see. Or you can say you have an eye infection, and that’s why you wandered off in the wrong direction.’
I hate myself as soon as the words leave my lips. I hate saying and doing anything that makes me seem like I care about him, or about what he does. If he wants to plan a debauched stag party where everyone goes to sex shows and comes home with conjunctivitis, then that’s his jam. It is nothing to do with me.
‘Weird,’ he replies.
‘Erm, yeah, it is weird,’ I say.
Tom frowns.
‘I feel like I’m missing something …’
‘I heard about the stag do,’ I admit.
‘So …’ he replies.
‘So … I suppose I thought more of you.’
‘I couldn’t really help it, could I?’
‘What?’
‘It’s not like I did it on purpose.’
‘How do you wind up going to an “audience participation” strip club by accident?’ I ask, confused.
‘Luca, what on earth are you talking about?’ he asks.
‘The stag do,’ I say slowly, starting to get annoyed.
‘Yeah, I didn’t go, I had to work,’ he says.
‘Ohh,’ I reply. ‘I thought you organised it.’
‘You thought I organised “audience participation” for a man who was about to get married?’ he asks, a combination of amused and offended. ‘You don’t think much of me, do you?’
‘I try not to,’ I reply.
Tom laughs.
‘Well, I would say I’m sorry I missed it, but it sounds like it was weird.’
‘It was,’ I reply, completely mortified.
We make the last minute of the journey to the drive-thru in silence.
‘Right, what can I get you?’ he asks.
‘Some chicken nuggets would be great,’ I reply.
‘Wow, it really is just like old times,’ Tom replies. ‘Maybe this time I won’t bottle it when it comes to kissing you.’ He laughs, to let me know that he’s joking.
‘You wish,’ I snort.
Five minutes later we’re parked up outside McDonald’s, wolfing down our food so that we can hurry back.
‘I kind of do,’ he says.
‘You kind of do what?’ I reply as I suck ketchup off my fingers in a rather unladylike way.
‘Wish I’d kissed you,’ he says.
‘Tom, don’t,’ I say. ‘Don’t start.’
‘Luca …’
‘Come on, it was years ago. Let’s not talk about it.’
‘I know, but—’
‘Tom,’ I say, cutting him off. ‘Stop it. We were kids, it was years ago, we’ve both moved on.’
‘Oh,’ he says. ‘So you are seeing someone?’
‘I am,’ I lie, although I don’t know why. I think just the thought of him getting back with Cleo has rubbed me up the wrong way again, and with that in mind, for him to be sat here, saying he wishes he’d kissed me … that’s despicable really, I’d be gutted if I were her.
We both reach for the same chicken nugget at the same time and awkwardly bump hands. Our hands stay touching for a few seconds more than is normal before I quickly pull my hand away.
‘If you hadn’t just told me what you told me, I might’ve tried to kiss you,’ he says.
And the worst thing is that, if I hadn’t just told him what I told him, there’s a chance I might’ve let him.
Chapter 20
Then – New Year’s Eve 2008, 7.45 p.m.
‘Thanks for picking me up,’ I say.
‘You are absolutely welcome,’ Zach replies.
‘Am I?’ I laugh. ‘Even though you’re only stuck in this traffic because you came out of your way to get me, because I wound up arriving much later than planned?’
Being late may seem like an unreliable quality, but for me, I think my constant lateness is what makes me consistent. You can always count on me to be late and, as such, you always know when I’m going to arrive – when I said I would, just a bit later.
So, obviously I’m late arriving back in Manchester after Christmas (even though I only live on the outskirts). My train was late (which actually is completely out of my control), and now I’m late picking up my costume from the fancy dress shop I hired it from.
‘What’s your costume?’ Zach asks me, making small talk while we’re stuck in the traffic that always surrounds the station.
‘Catwoman,’ I tell him. ‘I need to pick it up from the costume shop on Park Road.
‘Don’t they close at 8?’ he replies.
‘Yep,’ I reply. ‘I’m even late for a shop that is staying open late.’
Zach laughs.
‘Matt said he was going there to grab something – something about not having any red spandex, although you know he’s got all the other colours. Shall I ask him to pick up your outfit for you?’
‘That would be great,’ I say, sighing with relief. I was so worried I wasn’t going to make it in time. I know it’s not important, that it’s just a silly costume, but tonight is the first time I’ve seen Tom since before Christmas and I want everything to be perfect. I want to be the Catwoman to his Batman because that’s what we said we’d do and, who knows, maybe I’ll just go for it, and pin him down and lick him a la Michelle Pfeiffer in Batman Returns.
‘He says he’ll do it,’ Zach says after tapping a few buttons on his phone, holstered by the radio in front of him. As his hand hovers near the button, he decides to turn some music on. ‘This will get us in the party mood.’
‘“I Kissed a Girl?”’ I say as Katy Perry blasts out of the speakers. ‘It’s not going to be that kind of party, buddy.’
‘Well, maybe it will for me,’ he laughs. ‘A little bird told me that maybe you and Tom might be hanging out tonight …’
‘We’re just going to see wha
t happens,’ I say, a little embarrassed. Fifi must have told him.
‘But you want him to be your N-Y-E kiss, right?’
‘Maybe,’ I reply. ‘Speaking of little birds, when are you going to grow a pair and kiss Fifi?’
I notice Zach’s jaw drop.
‘Wh-what?’
‘Don’t “wh-what” me,’ I reply. ‘You’re obviously crazy about her.’
‘Is it that obvious?’ he replies.
‘Only if you have eyes or ears,’ I reply.
‘Well, it’s funny you should say that, but I did tell her there was a girl I liked, and that I was going to find her on New Year’s Eve and tell her exactly how I felt …’
‘Aren’t you brave?’ I tell him as a smile spreads across my face. ‘But, wait, you told her it was her, right?’
‘Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it?’
‘It might not be,’ I tell him. ‘I would have made it crystal clear.’
‘I was trying to be romantic and sexy,’ he replies, before pausing for thought. ‘I should’ve told her it was her, shouldn’t I?’
I nod my head. ‘Well, we’re nearly there,’ I tell him.
‘Maybe we’ll both get what we want tonight, eh?’ he says.
‘I’ll drink to that,’ I reply.
I feel my phone vibrating on my lap.
‘It’s Ed,’ I tell Zach before answering. ‘Hey Ed, how’s the party going?’
‘Luca,’ he sobs. ‘Luca, you’ve got to come quick. You’ve got to help me.’
‘Ed, slow down, what’s wrong?’ I ask.
Zach looks over at me, worried. I shrug my shoulders.
‘I’ve made a terrible mistake,’ he says. ‘I … I think I’ve hit someone.’
Chapter 21
Now
The men I met at university have a lot to answer for.
First of all, there were my housemates. Between them they’ve made enough girls shed enough tears to fill an Olympic swimming pool. Matt was a player, always with an eye on one conquest or another (the other was usually her friend). Zach, before he got together with Fiona, had some major commitment issues, which is why they took so long to get together. And then there was Clarky, who wasn’t exactly a hit with the ladies, but he wanted to be one of the boys, so he was always happy to move in on the ‘unattractive’ friend.
The Time of Our Lives Page 12