‘What?’ I asked defensively.
‘We were just wondering what you thought about the validity of Damien Hirst’s latest work,’ Veronique said. ‘I can’t wait to hear your views.’
He was the guy who pickled dead sheep, right?
‘Um, he’s quite cutting-edge, I s’pose,’ I mumbled.
Carter gave me an encouraging smile. ‘Go on…’
Veronique put a comforting hand on my arms, so comforting that I could feel her nails digging into me. ‘I’m sorry Edie. I guess you’re a little out of your depth. Why don’t we talk about something you’re into? Oh dear, I don’t think I’ve ever watched Hollyoaks.’
‘God, you sound just like my mum, Veronique,’ I exclaimed innocently, earning myself a killer glare.
As I glanced up I almost drowned in Dylan’s dark green eyes that were equal parts despair and longing as he pinned me to the chair with his gaze. I stared back, unable to stop myself, until Carter nudged me.
‘Let’s clear the table, shall we?’ he said with an edge to his voice.
I grabbed some plates and hurried into the kitchen, followed by Carter who kicked the door shut.
‘You’re with me,’ he hissed, pressing me up against the fridge. ‘And don’t forget it.’
And when Dylan came in five minutes later to get the dessert, I was wrapped round Carter like a clinging vine. There was only one way to get through the rest of the evening and it wasn’t sober.
Carter had to stop the car on the way home so I could throw up. Didn’t even hold my hair back for me either.
‘I should have known you were too young to hold your drink,’ he said nastily as he put me back in the car. Then he made me stick my head out of the window for the rest of the journey.
Somehow I think Carter’s and my thing is drawing to a close.
7th July
Or not. I’ve seen Carter, like, every night this week. He refuses to call it a relationship. I think he just wants to get into my pants, quite frankly. And he’s taken me to every art gallery in the 0161 area code. Quelle boring.
Just once, I’d like to find a boy I like and he likes me. We have a laugh and the kissing’s really good and there’s no-one getting in the way of the laughing and the kissing. Is that too much to ask for? Other people seem to manage it OK, so why can’t I? I’m starting to think that I have an invisible radar on the top of my head that only art boys with severe emotional problems can pick up.
15th July
Waved the ’rents off really early. Crack of dawn kind of early. This second honeymoon thang is actually rather sweet, though it makes me slightly mopey ’cause at the rate I’m going I won’t even be able to manage a first honeymoon. Even sweeter is the fact that they’ve left me unsupervised because they know I’m way too scaredy to even think about having a wild party. I’m slightly squicked out though at the thought of not having a designated adult on the premises especially when the house starts making those creepy intruder-on-the-stairs sound effects.
15th July (but later)
I can’t believe what happened at work today! Anna suddenly announced that we’re getting a new short-order cook in for the summer rush. Me and Poppy were getting really excited about the thought of working with some foxy super chef when Anna said, ‘Oh, I think you know him, Edie. It’s Dylan who works next door in Rhythm Records.’
I managed to get a grip on myself and muttered, ‘Oh yeah, Dylan, that’ll be nice.’ But Poppy said afterwards that I’d rolled my eyes so strenuously she thought that my eyeballs had done a complete 360 degrees.
15th July (even later)
I don’t know how I find time to even pee at the moment. After leaving work at five I managed to fit in a quick band rehearsal with Poppy, Atsuko and Darby before rushing home to massage the cramp in my strumming hand and get ready to go out with Carter who took me to a gallery opening. It was very sophisticated (translation: pretentious). I stood there clutching a glass of white wine listening to loads of Carter’s art boy mates waffling on about the artist’s ‘intense use of colour’ when out of the corner of my eye I saw Dylan and Veronique snogging behind a post-modernist sculpture and I experienced my own intense use of colour. I saw red.
‘What are you scowling about?’ Carter enquired as he suddenly appeared at my side.
‘All these people are so, so… so up themselves,’ I spluttered ’cause I couldn’t tell him the real reason why I was looking like I wanted to commit a double homicide. ‘Whenever we go out you always take me to places stuffed full of really bad art installations.’
Carter closed his eyes very slowly and then opened them again. He does that a lot.
‘So why don’t you pick what we do next time?’
I gave him a slightly incredulous look. ‘Oh, is there going to be a next time ’cause planning ahead would actually imply that we’re in a relationship.’
‘I think you actually have to be sleeping with someone for it to qualify as a relationship,’ Carter murmured silkily into my ear and I could feel myself blushing.
Carter might not want to be my official boyfriend but he’d made it perfectly clear that he wouldn’t be against getting pelvic with me.
‘I want you to come to the college graduation party with me,’ I said hastily, changing the subject.
‘Oh no,’ he groaned. ‘I bet it will be full of sad girls training to be secretaries and boys doing electrical engineering.’ He shuddered.
‘I take it that’s a no then?’
Carter just smiled and looped his arm round my shoulder before nudging me in the direction of Veronique and Dylan who’d finally come up for air. I so wished they hadn’t because Dylan just stood there like one o’clock half struck and she managed to get, like, ten digs in in the course of a five minute conversation. They deserve each other.
15th July (much, much later)
I’ve just indulged in the sappiest behaviour ever known to girlkind. But when it’s two in the morning and the hot water pipes sound exactly like a crazed nutter trapped in the wardrobe, you get so scared that you do stupid things like phoning your sort-of boyfriend and begging him to come over so he can look in previously mentioned wardrobe.
Carter took it well though he had a slight edge to his voice when he discovered the crazed nutter was actually a gurgling pipe.
‘You sure it wasn’t just an excuse?’ Carter asked, after putting down the golf club I’d given him to use as a weapon.
‘What?’
‘You get me here and then have your wicked way with me,’ Carter said hopefully.
I shuffled uncomfortably, suddenly aware of my pyjamas. I was naked under them! ‘Yeah, in your dreams!’
‘I could stay here while your parents are away, you know. See off any intruders, make sure their daughter’s protected.’
I shook my head and grinned. ‘Hmm and who’s going to protect me from you?’ I demanded as we walked down the stairs.
As I was opening the front door, Carter suddenly grabbed me and kissed me in a way that made my toes curl and my hands clutch at his shoulders to stop myself from falling over.
‘Thought you might want to know what you were missing,’ he chuckled as I pushed him through the door.
‘Go!’ I said firmly.
‘I’ll see you Monday night then,’ Carter promised.
I frowned. ‘Monday night?’
‘The college graduation party,’ he reminded me.
Sometimes I don’t know whether to kiss him or kill him.
20th July
I always have a better time getting ready for a party than I do once I’m actually at the party and trying to be all party-like. Although it’s just a college graduation bash and Carter’s only coming with me ’cause I wore him down through the medium of nagging, I’m still really excited. So excited that I’ve spent most of the day in the hairdresser’s blowing the emergency money Mum left me on some white blonde slices and a manicure. I don’t know what I’m going to do if the hot water tank suddenly ex
plodes but at least my hair looks all kinds of wonderful.
The reckless hair dye decision kind of inspired me and, as I stroked pink glittery varnish onto my toenails and wondered whether my matching hairslides and my pale pink Sixties shift dress were just a little too pink, I decided that tonight I was going to find my inner child and run with her. Forget being responsible and mature, tonight I was going to be irresponsible and immature. I’ve spent far too much time recently being the queen of angst.
21st July
Carter turned up on time last night. Bang on time, which I don’t think has ever happened before.
The doorbell rang as I was sliding on my cork wedges. I concentrated on walking sedately down the stairs and not breaking my neck even though the thought of getting to spend four hours with Carter was doing weird things to my stomach.
He had his hand raised to have another go on the doorbell when I finally managed to let him in. He was wearing narrow-legged trousers from one of his second-hand 1940s spiv suits and a short-sleeved shirt with little geometric patterns on it. Carter always looks like he’d been born sixty years too late. But in a good way.
‘You took your time,’ he complained, running a hand through his dark blond quiff.
‘I was having trouble negotiating the stairs,’ I muttered. ‘I couldn’t decide whether to go for functionality or fashion forwardness in my footwear.’ Carter can still make me really nervous, even after all this time. Being nervous makes me talk a lot.
He looked me up and down. Slowly, I could feel a blush starting at my hairline and travelling all the way down to my newly varnished toes.
‘I see fashion forwardness won in the end,’ he commented archly. ‘Can you walk in those?’
‘Pretty much.’
‘So am I coming in or are you actually ready, for the first time in our short but eventful relationship?’ he asked. ‘You look nice, by the way. Like a strawberry milkshake.’
‘Oh thanks, Carter,’ I said sullenly.
‘I love strawberry milkshake!’ he protested with a smirk. ‘Stop being so touchy. Now have you got everything: keys, purse, lip-gloss, phone… ?’
‘I’m good to go,’ I said decisively. ‘Are you driving?’
‘I thought we’d walk into town. I guess I should have checked the footwear situation with you first,’ he smiled. ‘We’ll flag down a taxi once we get onto the main road.’
As I wobbled down the street in my wedge heels, Carter took my elbow. He doesn’t do holding hands. In fact, he scorns all public displays of affection, unlike Dylan who’d been happy to snog me at bus stops and in shop doorways. But Dylan was the past and Carter was right now and I didn’t even want to think about any possible boy-shapes that might be lurking in the future.
The party was being held at Kudos, this horrible, tacky nightclub in the centre of town.
As Carter caught sight of the two bouncers on the door and the gang of lads in pastel shirts, who were queuing to get in and stinking of cheap aftershave, he winced.
‘I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,’ he said.
‘Wait till you get inside then,’ I teased. ‘They have plastic palm trees and a dancefloor that lights up.’
‘One of your regular haunts is it?’
‘One of the chefs at work had his birthday party here,’ I explained. ‘There was a massive fight and I saw this guy get glassed. It was horrible and his girlfriend was crying because there was blood on her dress and…’
‘Edie,’ said Carter warningly. ‘I’ll give it an hour and if it sucks we’re going.’
‘Look, this is the end of two years of my life,’ I told him as the bouncers unclipped the velvet rope and let us through. ‘You could at least pretend that you want to be here. Not everyone can be as cool as you are.’
‘That’s for sure,’ he remarked. ‘What do you want to drink? One of those disgusting alcopops that you seem to love so much?’
I nodded and he disappeared in the direction of the bar.
Standing on my own in a nightclub is not one of my favourite occupations. I tried to assume a nonchalant I’m-just-waiting-for-all-of-my-best-friends-to-come-back-from-the-loo pose but I was sure everybody was staring at me and thinking that I was a complete loser who had no mates.
Suddenly I felt two hands squeeze my waist and I started in surprise.
‘All right, Ediekins?’ Nat said, by way of a greeting. ‘You look delicious. Like a strawberry milkshake. I want to drink you all up.’
I turned round and nestled against him. ‘I’m so glad you’re here. I feel all out of sorts,’ I said.
I love cuddling Nat. Not only does he always smell really nice but I never have to worry that he’ll get the wrong idea about me or that bits of him might start digging into me. Because ewwwww!
‘You can pretend to be with me if you like but if I pull you’re on your own,’ Nat offered because he’s all heart.
‘I’m here with Carter,’ I said darkly. ‘But I’m not sure it was a good idea. I don’t think he’s in a party mood and he wants to go in, like, an hour.’
‘Oh, your older man,’ said Nat snidely, rolling his eyes.
‘He’s only twenty-three,’ I snapped defensively. ‘Five years is so not an age gap.’
‘It is when he spends half the time acting like your dad. There’s something creepy about him.’
‘He’s all right when you get to know him,’ I insisted. ‘He’s really funny.’
‘Funny peculiar,’ said Nat, determined to get the last word in.
I was just on the verge of opening my mouth to cut him dead with a crushing retort when he took my hand and dragged me towards the lit-up dancefloor.
‘Nat!’ I hissed. ‘Carter’ll be looking for me.’ I tried to loosen Nat’s grip on me but he was having none of it.
‘But it’s Horny Horny Horny,’ he protested. ‘It’s practically our song!’
Nat whirled me round like we were on Strictly Come Dancing and I had no choice but to give in.
That’s the other thing I love about Nat, he’s the only boy I know who’ll dance with me without worrying that he’s being girly or uncool.
I finally managed to disentangle myself from Nat. My feet were not happy. I was sure there were some blister-type things going on but I was more worried about Carter. I eventually found him slouched against a pillar looking like he was having the worst night of his life. My heart sank, I should never have forced him to come. I hobbled over to him, hoping he wasn’t going to be too angry.
‘Sorry, I bumped into Nat,’ I began but he smiled and handed me my lukewarm drink.
‘It’s OK, Edie, you don’t have to explain,’ he shouted above the music. ‘I like watching you dance, you really should think about going into cabaret.’
I could feel my cheeks flushing and I turned my head away from him. Carter gently took my chin in his hand so he could see my face.
‘What do you want?’ he enquired throatily.
‘I don’t know,’ I said breathlessly. ‘I want to sit down and I… I’m really hot.’ Please kiss me, I silently begged him and I was just about to do something pathetic like plead with him to smooch me when Atsuko and Darby came over to say hello.
‘We interrupting something?’ asked Atsuko, sensing the atmosphere.
‘Edie and I were having a moment,’ Carter said, putting an arm round me and pulling me against him.
‘Hi,’ I managed to get out finally. ‘I’m just having a bit of a hot flush.’
‘Hmmm, you do look all weird,’ commented Darby. ‘Like you’ve been running a marathon.’
‘I’ve been dancing with Nat,’ I continued. ‘Anyway I didn’t think you two were coming. It’s not really your scene, is it?’
‘We didn’t think you were coming either,’ said Atsuko. ‘We’re only here to get a snog from every bloke we ever fancied in the two years we were at college.’
‘And we’re not leaving until we do,’ finished Darby fiercely.
I co
uld feel Carter tense up. ‘I think I’d better get Edie out of here before you two give her any ideas,’ he said smoothly. ‘I hope you’ve brought some lip balm, it sounds like you’re going to need it.’
I could tell that Atsuko and Darby weren’t sure whether Carter was laughing with them or at them and to tell you the truth I wasn’t either.
‘Hey, rewind,’ I said, flashing Carter a warning look. ‘We’ve only just got here. I want to spend some time with my friends.’
Carter shrugged in a fairly good impression of someone who was fine with that idea, but not before I saw the flash of annoyance that swept across his face.
Diary of a Crush: Kiss and Make Up Page 9