What’s wrong with me?
It must be the alcohol. Does alcohol even work that fast?
I blink, dazed. It’s too warm. I pick my way to the back door and catch sight of Chloe and Tom entangled on the staircase. Her pink skirt is hitched up, and his arms are running all over her body. As I squeeze past, she curves her back and he kisses her neck.
I feel a pang of envy. I bet if Lily and Bryan were here, that’s what they’d be doing.
As I step into the kitchen, the room starts to sway. There’s a pile of cans by the fridge, so I grab one and take a big slurp.
Ugh, gross! What is this? I squint at the label – Guinness – and swap it for another WKD. The sweet blue liquid slips down my throat easily and masks the bitter taste of the beer.
There’s a burst of laughter from a group to my left. God, why do I have no friends? Maybe I should just follow my destiny and get with Rish tonight so at least I have someone to talk to.
At that moment, I see one of Tom’s friends – I think he’s called Ben – coming out of the door to the garden.
‘Have you seen Rish?’ I shout to him, trying to be heard above the music.
‘Oh yeah, you’re the young girl Rish invited, right?’
Young girl? Seriously? He’s three years older than me at most. I’m probably about ten years above him in mental maturity.
I take another gulp of WKD.
‘Actually Andy invited me. Do you know where he is?’ I say.
‘Yeah, they’re all outside.’ There’s something about Ben’s sneering face that is making me feel uncomfortable. He has these huge muscles bursting out of his T-shirt, his forehead is glistening and as he reaches for a beer I swear I can almost see his chest twitching.
Without looking at me, Ben turns and walks back out of the door.
I follow him into the garden and see everyone in a group together. Rish is making some big, wild gesture to the guys, and Louise is flicking her hair over her shoulder.
Andy’s there too – he’s taking a swig of WKD and pushing his floppy hair back.
As I walk towards them, he looks over, and our eyes meet. My heart starts to thud. Oh God, I wasn’t staring again, was I?
I pretend I’ve seen something really interesting on the floor.
‘Issa!’ shouts Rish when he sees me, holding out his arms.
I laugh and duck out of his embrace – letting him rest his arm on my shoulder.
‘Ah, the perfect height!’ he shouts. ‘I think I’ll invite you to all my parties as an armrest from now on.’
Louise laughs nastily.
‘Perfect height,’ murmurs Rish, belching.
The other boys smirk.
Ugh, I think being drunk is actually making me less attracted to Rish. I wrinkle my nose and take another swig.
‘You’re the perfect armrest for me though, bro,’ says Andy, stretching his long arms out and resting them on Rish.
I glance over at his tousled hair and gorgeous dark eyes, and my chest tightens. I can feel the colour rising in my cheeks. I imagine pressing myself against his soft lips and running my fingertips over his hard body. Oh God, why is Andy so fit? . . .
‘I’m the right armrest for you,’ says Louise, slinking a skinny arm on his shoulder.
Andy grins sleepily and rests his elbow on her.
Eugh, bloody Louise.
Rish is watching my face. He grins.
‘Ha! Look at Issa; she’s all left out,’ he says, and the group bursts out laughing.
Oh shit, what was I doing? Someone passes me another WKD, and I drink it thirstily.
The night is feeling less clear, more fuzzy around the edges. I let my arm drop to my side, but it doesn’t stay still.
I can feel a burning desire inside me. I know now what I want to do: I want to get with Andy and take photos of us together for my blog. I don’t want Louise to be standing there looking like a model, flirting with him. I want it to be me. I want all my followers to see how good he looks.
I step forward to face him.
‘Why aren’t I the right height for you?’ I say, widening my eyes.
Louise snorts.
A surprised smile plays on his lips.
‘I’ll show you,’ he says. ‘Watch this.’
He puts his arm up and lets it rest on my shoulder.
‘See – too small.’ He smiles, his eyes dark and warm.
He rests his large hand on the top of my head. It feels like my head is on fire beneath his fingertips.
‘Now this is the right height.’
‘The right height for one thing!’ shouts Ben, miming a sex act.
All the boys – even Andy – start laughing.
Gross. Why are men so immature?
I fold my arms and sigh prettily (well, I hope). Andy’s eyes slide down, and when his eyes meet mine, he winks. For a millisecond my heart stops.
The world is beginning to spin. Everything feels looser, more relaxed. I sneak a look at Andy and feel a flutter of excitement in my stomach.
Anything really could happen.
I take another gulp of WKD and step closer to him, pressing my boobs against his chest.
Rish says something, and the guys laugh. As they sip their beers, Andy subtly, almost imperceptibly, reaches his arm round my shoulder.
A tingle prickles across my neck. I slowly reach round and start running my fingertips in circles along his lower back.
He doesn’t respond. He’s laughing with the rest of the group, and I almost snatch my fingers away, but then I feel his big hand clumsily tracing shapes across my shoulder blade.
My neck starts pulsing.
Does he like me? Could he actually like me? His fingers trace along my spine. My body melts where he touches.
Oh my God, this is actually happening.
Stay cool.
Stay cool.
The world is getting woolly; I can’t focus on my thoughts. Something is stirring in my stomach. I want to kiss Andy so badly. What can I do?
I look up at him, but I’m finding it hard to make out his face.
‘Do you want to go get a drink?’ I whisper huskily. Well, I think it’s huskily. My words feel too big for my mouth.
Someone grabs my arm.
‘Oi, get me a Guinness, will you,’ says Rish, pulling me away from Andy and towards him. His hands lightly grip my shoulder. Rish keeps looking straight at me.
‘Fine, I’ll get you one,’ I snap. ‘Andy, come with me.’
Rish’s face changes and he lets go of my arm. Shrugging, I take Andy’s hand and pull him along after me. Things are so distant that I don’t even flush when Ben erupts into wolf whistles.
I look up. Andy is looking back at them and gesturing to me, shaking his head.
When we reach the drinks, he grins down at me. His messy blond hair is twitching in the wind – and his eyes are big and warm.
I wrap my arms around his body – I only come up to his chest – and feel his hard stomach through his T-shirt.
He tilts his head to one side.
‘Little Issa,’ he says. ‘You do realize Rish—’
‘Shut up! I don’t care,’ I say, so fiercely I almost stamp my feet.
He grins. ‘I guess you don’t.’
I stand up wonkily on tiptoes, but I can’t reach his face. Andy has to dip down his head.
I see him getting closer, but it still takes me by surprise when his warm lips move against mine. The sensation jolts through me and it feels like every hair on my body is standing on end.
I have a flashback to a video I watched of Lily and Bryan kissing after her twenty-first birthday. They were sitting underneath a tree in Hyde Park – and Bry bent down to kiss her tenderly on the lips. It was so perfect. So romantic. I used to dream I would experience a moment like that.
As Andy runs his hands down my back, I realize I’ve finally found it – my own magic moment.
Moving my lips against his, I reach into my pocket and quietly pull out my p
hone.
CHAPTER 19
Lily
I can’t even think about Bryan’s messages. I can’t deal with it. My thoughts keep going back to the moment I saw her Snapchat – sat in our living room, my mind stuck on a loop trying to figure out if there’s something going on between him and Nina.
Mum is livid. When I told her about the messages, she almost rang Bryan up herself to shout at him, but I begged her not to interfere.
Instead, she made me eat copious amounts of shortbread, tea and biscuits. The tears have dried on my cheeks, and the hollow feeling in my stomach has been replaced with a food baby and a sweet, crumby taste on my lips. She told me to forget about Bryan, forget about Nina, forget about work – and just relax.
I can’t, but I’m trying. Really, really trying. I’m snuggled up rereading a romance book under a bobbly blanket in the nook of my bedroom. Well, I call it a nook. It’s actually a window-seat alcove that overlooks a long field of black-and-white cows and a small petrol station in the distance. If I crank open the old window, I can hear the soft sound of mooing in the distance. I lean my head against the cool window pane, listening to their low sounds, and breathe out slowly.
Everything is going to be OK.
Even if I have to move home, even if I have to move into one of my rented-out cottages in Suffolk – or get a new flat in London – I can do this. Me and Mum have been through so much worse than this. If I really have to, I can leave Bryan.
As I’m winding the tassels of the blanket round my fingers, my phone lights up on my lap. I prop the book on one knee and awkwardly reach for it. It’s a reply from Chris. My cheeks heat up.
C: I’m free tonight if you are?
I twist the bobbles of fabric round my fingers. Should I really be meeting up with Chris? Is it the right thing to do when I’m feeling like this? Chewing my lip, I unfurl my long limbs from the window seat. I don’t feel like an adult capable of making decisions right now.
Nibbling my thumb, I go downstairs to ask Mum what to do.
***
Two hours later, at Mum’s instruction, I’ve changed into a loose floral dress, a denim jacket, and added make-up.
While Mum is busy in the garage painting a 1930s chair for her antique shop, I nip upstairs to take some selfies for Instagram. I’ve taken about a hundred, but I’m pretty sure I’m not going to use any of them. It’s so hard: I really need to post something new, but without the spotlights I have back at the flat, the lighting makes me look awful.
My stomach clenches as I step down the stairs.
Me and Chris have been messaging all afternoon – and he is due to call round at ours any minute. My phone on the hall table lights up. I pick it up, expecting it to be another message from Chris – but my chest tightens. It’s a missed call from Bryan.
I finger the screen, my forehead starting to ache. He’s finally called, but I don’t want to speak to him. I can’t speak to him now. How can I? I’m about to meet Chris.
Ugh, why am I meeting up with Chris? I know Mum thinks it’s a good idea, but only because she liked him when he was a kid. I don’t even know him. Not really.
My phone flashes with a voicemail from Bryan. I desperately want to listen to it, but I can’t bring myself to click the call icon. As soon as I hear his voice, I know everything will come tumbling back – the worry about Nina, the questions, the anger. I don’t want to deal with it right now.
I press my phone to my forehead. The handset vibrates with another message, and at that moment Mum comes through the hall, takes my phone out of my hands and sets it down on the side table.
She has a dollop of white paint in her fringe, but she doesn’t seem to have noticed.
‘It’s from Bryan,’ she says, squinting at the screen. Then she looks at my face. ‘I think I’ll take care of this for the rest of the evening. What time are you meeting Chris?’
I pull my sleeves over my fingertips and start to nibble the corner of my lip.
‘He’s coming over nowish, then we’re going for a walk and maybe to the Crown for a drink.’
Mum nods. ‘Well then, you won’t need this.’ She puts my mobile in her jean pocket. ‘I don’t want you talking to Bryan tonight. He’s done enough.’
I feel a tug towards the phone, but I know Mum’s right. I don’t want to deal with all that. And, to be honest, I like not having to make every decision about my life right now. Unlike with Mindy, Siobhan and the team, here I’m not the boss. Mum is taking over, telling me what to do, and it’s such a relief to feel like a child again.
I sink into the kitchen armchair and start playing with a loose thread on my sleeve. When I look up, Mum is peering at my face. She frowns.
‘What’s wrong, Mum?’
She sucks in her breath, and I realize she’s steeling herself to say something important.
‘Sweetie, aren’t you going to put on a bit more make-up?’
Reaching into my bag, I add a slick of red lipstick to my look.
The doorbell dings. Before I get a chance to reach the door, Mum has ripped it open.
‘Chris! How’s your mum? My, haven’t you grown! It’s been such a long time since you’ve been here. I remember you and Lily always trying to run away in the garden; it nearly gave me a heart attack.’
I can hear Chris laughing nervously.
Chris – the twenty-three-year-old man Mum is currently speaking to – dwarfs the low cottage doorway as he steps into the front room. He smiles down at Mum, who is still speaking to him like a child, and shakes his boots on the mat.
He sees me, and his eyes crinkle. He looks different to that day in London. Then, I didn’t really pay attention to what he was wearing, but now I notice the tightness of his tatty grey T-shirt. On Bryan it would hang limply, but on Chris you can see his muscles bursting out of the sleeves, and a deep tan running along his forearms.
My stomach flips.
What’s wrong with me?
I can’t seriously have a crush on him just because he’s turned up looking rugged after a day of farm work. I honestly thought I was a bit deeper than that.
Bryan’s messages waiting unanswered on my phone flit through my mind, and I start nibbling on my thumb.
Chris is watching me, so I try to smile back at him.
‘Er, should we head off?’ I say. This all suddenly feels weird.
Why on earth did I ask him to meet up? We’re pretty much strangers.
Chris’s eyes scan my face.
‘You sure you remember me?’ He laughs.
I can see Mum beaming out of the corner of my eye. This is her dream come true, isn’t it? Me and Chris going out, falling in love and living together in her little village.
‘Debs, good to see you again.’ He nods.
Mum almost pushes us both out of the front door.
Once we get to the old lane, I notice Chris shaking his head.
My brow tightens. ‘What?’
He shrugs. ‘Nah, it’s nothing.’
We keep walking, until I glance over and catch him trying not to smile.
‘What?’ I can hear my voice getting higher. I feel so tightly wound I don’t want to play these stupid games. Why can’t he just say what it is?
He smiles, but then sees my face.
‘OK, OK. I thought you . . . Never mind. Did you not feel it? Walking up the path, seeing your mum, your little creaky gate? It’s been so many years since I was there, yet it feels exactly the same.’
My shoulders sag.
‘Like a time warp,’ I mumble into the ground.
‘A what?’
‘A time warp,’ I say, louder this time.
We walk through the lane, and a cow leans its big face over the brambled fence. When I open my mouth to speak, she moos at me. I leap out of my skin.
Beside me, Chris is doubled up laughing.
‘Don’t laugh!’ I say, nudging him with my elbow.
But he doesn’t stop. The two deep lines running down his cheeks split his
whole face – the uneven smattering of stubble across his jaw making him look even more dishevelled.
I try to look annoyed, but I can’t. Chris grins back at me, his eyes dancing with laughter, and my heart slows.
CHAPTER 20
Melissa
After the party, Andy offers to walk me back to my house. Every few steps, we stop to kiss.
He’s wrapped his grey hoody around my shoulders; it’s so huge, it almost comes down to my knees. I run my fingers across the soft lining of the sleeves. It’s almost like the night is wrapped up in its own cosy blanket. Everything is comfier. Every step I take makes me feel lighter.
I can’t stop giggling.
As we turn into my drive, I stand on my tiptoes and kiss him again. The familiar spark of excitement fizzles in my stomach as his hot, wet lips move against mine.
But then he does this tongue-sucking thing that feels a bit like I’m kissing a vacuum. I pull away from him and wipe the spit off my cheek with his sleeve.
There’s another thing that’s been bothering me since we started kissing. I’ve managed to get subtle pictures of us, but I haven’t got any that show his face properly. I need photos of us together – our actual faces. I can’t just post photos of us kissing; that’ll look weird.
Andy looks down. His face is a bit dishevelled. His cheeks are flushed and his lips are swollen.
I wrinkle my nose. Just do it. You’ll regret it so much if you don’t.
He leans down to kiss me, but I tilt my head to one side.
‘You know what would be funny?’ I say, giving a little laugh.
‘What?’
‘Why don’t we take a picture? It’ll be fun! Look – we look so weird!’
He opens his mouth, but before he has a chance to reply, I pull out my phone and push it in our faces. The lighting is terrible, and my fingers keep swaying when I try to click the shutter icon. Oh screw it; I can tidy it up in Photoshop.
‘Smile!’ I say, and Andy dutifully stretches his lips at the camera. I hold down the camera icon to take a burst of about a million photos in quick succession.
Andy puts a hand on my shoulder and spins me round.
‘Why do you want photos?’
‘I just thought it’d be funny!’
A crease forms on his forehead. I lean up and press my lips hard against his. His body immediately responds and he thrusts into me, snaking a hand down my waist.
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