Shona didn’t ask any more questions but said that her and Paul were going to get something to eat and then planned to spend what was left of the evening in the cinema tent and I’d better have a damn good reason for not coming with them.
Carter was waiting for me as I left the tent.
‘There you are,’ he said with a flash of irritation. ‘I’m going to have to get you micro-chipped.’
I was in no mood to have it out with him especially as I could see the others (minus Veronique and Dylan who’d been missing in action all day) watching us. Though when I glanced over at them they all pretended that they were looking at something particularly fascinating on the ground.
I glared at Carter, throwing every ounce of hatred I felt into it. He stepped back.
‘What have I done now?’
‘Just stay the hell away from me,’ I snapped. ‘Don’t talk to me, don’t touch me, don’t even sodding breathe near me.’
‘Edie, you’re being very melodramatic—’ he began but I cut him off simply by flouncing over to the others while he was still in mid-sentence.
‘Are we going to get something to eat or what?’ I asked them and it was clear from the looks I got that Shona had filled them in on what I’d told her earlier, so they all sprang into action and spirited me off down the hill, while Carter stood there looking furious.
As we trailed aimlessly about the food stalls trying to find somewhere that didn’t look too vegan or too likely to give us botulism, everyone kept a tactful silence about what had just happened between me and Carter. I could tell that Darby was dying to get all the dirt but I think Atsuko kept pinching her ’cause she kept rubbing her arm and hissing, ‘What did you do that for? I wasn’t going to say anything.’
We were queuing up outside the cinema tent when I saw Dylan striding towards us. Without Veronique. It was funny Carter could touch me in places that were meant to be erogenous zones and I felt nothing but the sight of Dylan in his torn Levi’s and an old T-shirt reduced me to road-kill.
‘Where’s Veronique?’ I heard Shona ask him.
‘I don’t know and I don’t care,’ was his terse reply. There was a muttered exchange between the two of them, during which I saw Dylan glance my way before he scowled, ‘It’s got nothing to do with me. She does what she wants, she always has. That’s half the problem.’ I couldn’t help but wonder if he was talking about Veronique or me.
As we pushed our way into the tent, the crowd surged forwards shoving Dylan into my back and almost knocking me over. He yanked me to my feet then dropped my hand like I’d burnt him, before pointedly going over to find a space next to Simon. And although I hadn’t expected to drop Carter and pick up where I left off with Dylan I couldn’t help the little pang of hurt that settled in my stomach.
27th August
That night I didn’t get much sleep. In fact, it had been weeks since I’d managed a full eight hours’ worth without interruptions and weird dreams. It didn’t help that the ground underneath my sleeping bag was lumpy and had more stones per square inch than your average quarry. Everyone else was fast asleep which just made me feel more frustrated and lonely. And when I did finally manage to catch a few zzzzzs I was woken up by a cacophonous drumming noise outside. I pulled on my jeans and quietly clambered out of the tent.
I could hardly take in what my eyes were seeing. There were naked hippies. There were bongos. There were naked hippies making mucho noise with the bongos. I was tired, I was dirty and I had had enough.
‘SHUT UP! SHUT UP!’ I screamed at them. ‘It’s half five in the morning.’
‘Hey we’re just thanking the earth for welcoming us,’ breezed this middle-aged guy with dreadlocks who had a huge spliff in his hand. ‘Don’t be so uptight, little sister.’
‘You woke me up!’ I yelled. ‘You woke me up with your stupid bongos.’
‘Here have a toke on this,’ the holdover hippy suggested, brandishing the joint at me.
‘I don’t want it,’ I protested. ‘I just want you to be quiet.’
‘You’re the one making all the noise,’ said a voice behind me. I turned round to see Dylan standing a little distance away from me with an amused look on his face. ‘I was standing here listening to the bongos, as you do, when you come out of your tent and start shrieking loud enough to wake the dead.’
‘Why aren’t you asleep?’ was all I could think of to say as the bongos started again.
‘I thought I’d get up early and brave the communal showers while it was quiet,’ Dylan said.
‘I’d love a shower,’ I breathed.
Dylan smiled evilly. ‘It was nice, all that hot water and soap making me squeaky clean. And you want to know what was really amazing? When I washed my hair, I rubbed all the shampoo in and then the water sluiced it all away, all those bubbles—’
‘Stop it,’ I moaned.
Dylan walked over to me. ‘You look awful,’ he said, cupping my face in his hands. ‘You still not sleeping?’
‘Yeah,’ I sighed.
‘Listen, why don’t you go and get your wash stuff and have a shower while there’s no-one around and then I’ll buy you breakfast and we’ll watch the sun come up?’ suggested Dylan.
It sounded like my idea of heaven. I nodded.
‘Off you go then,’ said Dylan, reaching out to ruffle my hair but I pulled away. You could have fried chips on my head. And, besides, I was all right as long as Dylan didn’t touch me. It was when he touched me that things got heavy.
I never thought I’d strip off and have a communal shower. Well not since I finished school anyway and no longer had to participate in their hideous competitive sports activities. But actually there was a women’s shower block and there were cubicles and the two other girls that I did see looked as embarrassed as me. As I stood under the water and scrubbed off the dirt and felt the water cascading down on me, I started to cry. I didn’t even know why I was crying. I used to cry all the time. Even last year I could always be relied upon to start blubbing over silly things like a particularly harrowing episode of EastEnders. I was making great strides in self-control these days. But in that shower I wept like my heart was breaking. And I guess it was the strain of exams and the whole Carter thing but it was also because Dylan was outside waiting for me and although he was offering me breakfast, what I really wanted from him he wasn’t able to give.
I finally emerged oozing cleanliness from every pore. It felt so good to be wearing a dress again, I’d even managed to shave my legs. Dylan was stretched out on the grass and I walked over to him and nudged him with my foot.
‘I’m starving,’ I said, as he sat up and looked at me. His gaze started at my feet and travelled slowly up. By the time he got to my eyes, I was trying very hard not to do something lame like go into full-on body spasms.
‘You’re not going to scream at me for failing to have your breakfast ready and waiting?’ he asked with a slight edge to his voice.
‘Not my style,’ I said lightly. ‘You’ve got the wrong girl.’
‘Hmmm, if only you knew,’ said Dylan significantly. He stood up and snaked his arm around my waist and I could have pulled away but it felt so right that I didn’t. ‘Let’s get ourselves fed.’
We bought coffee and bacon rolls and sat under a tree to have breakfast and watch as the sun climbed in the sky. We didn’t talk, but we didn’t need to. Instead we just leant against each other and were silent. Finding someone you can be quiet with is way more difficult than sustaining a conversation. Carter used silence like a weapon but Dylan and I had always been good at companionable silences.
By this time the sun was up and staying put, it was really hot. I reached into my bag for my sunblock and started smearing it on my shoulders but Dylan took the tube from me and began to smooth the lotion onto my skin. His fingers slipped under the thin straps of my daisy-covered sun-dress and his touch became less soothing and more caressing. I held my breath as he traced a finger down my spine to the zip. Dylan hesitated f
or a second and then handed the tube back to me.
‘You’d better do the front,’ he said unsteadily.
I shoved some of the cream around my neck and arms and then turned to face him. His eyes were very green against his tan but there were dark smudges painted into the hollows of his face and I itched to smooth them away.
‘I know we’ve had this bad patch but I really want everything to be all right between us,’ I said carefully. ‘And I want you to know that all the times I said I didn’t want to be friends with you, I was only trying to convince myself.’
Dylan got up and tugged me to my feet so I was standing with his arms round me. ‘It doesn’t matter Edie,’ he told me. ‘I’ve said and done things to you that make me pretty much hate myself but you’ll always be my friend. Even if I don’t act that way sometimes.’
‘Do you mean that?’
Dylan didn’t reply but he pulled me close to him and held me. My arms crept up around his neck and he buried his head in my shoulder. I could feel his heart tapping out its beat through his thin T-shirt and I put my hand against it. Dylan gently drew back.
‘I think if we’re going to spend the day together we should have a no-touching rule,’ he drawled in that light teasing way that I’d missed so much.
I pulled a face. ‘You touched me first,’ I pointed out. ‘I was just returning the favour.’
‘I’m serious,’ Dylan insisted. ‘No touching, let’s just do the friend thing.’
‘I never said I was going to spend the day with you,’ I said jokingly and Dylan arched an eyebrow and smiled knowingly.
‘Stop whining, Eeds, or I’ll make you spend all morning in the trance tent.’
I really got into the whole festival vibe, man. OK, I didn’t buy any stupid hats or get a henna tattoo but Dylan and I saw some bands, spent an hour in the comedy tent, pigged out on junk food and bitched about how much we hated jugglers. Nobody knew us, nobody cared if we were dating or were friends who ended up kissing each other or even having a tempestuous affair. Being anonymous can kick some serious ass.
Dylan stuck to his no-touching rule even though our hands kept brushing and I wanted to grab his fingers and not let go. Walking round in the summer heat and not touching and the way Dylan kept looking at me like I was a Big Mac and he hadn’t eaten for days made me feel restless. My whole body felt heavy and Dylan and I were exchanging so many lingering eye-meets that the whole thing was getting a bit ridiculous.
Eventually we made our way back to the tree where we’d seen the sun rise and I flopped down on the ground, exhausted.
‘Next time, if I go to a festival, and it’s a big if, I’m staying at a hotel and having myself airlifted in and out,’ I announced before digging into my bag to find my emergency bottle of nail polish to start a quick repair job on my toenails that were looking decidedly chipped.
Dylan collapsed next to me, his arms pillowing his head. I tried not to look as his T-shirt rode up to reveal several inches of tanned, taut stomach.
‘You’re not like other girls,’ Dylan said wonderingly, taking the bottle from me and hoisting my feet onto his lap so he could paint my nails. I let him. I mean what’s the point of having an art boy around and not making the most of his expertise with a brush?
‘How am I not like other girls?’ I enquired.
Dylan shrugged. ‘I don’t know any other girl who’d come to a festival with a full pedicure kit and I don’t know any other girl who’d put up with all the crap I’ve thrown at her and still want to spend time with me.’
‘I’ve been pretty nasty to you too,’ I said. ‘I’ve said some very hurtful things.’
‘I wish we could get back together now,’ Dylan said casually, looking down as he concentrated on my toes. ‘I think we’ve both changed.’
My breath caught in my throat and I couldn’t speak. Was Dylan getting real or just playing ‘if only’ with me?
‘I’ve thought about it a lot this summer,’ Dylan continued. He paused. ‘Say something, Edie. Even if it’s only to yell at me.’
‘I’ve split up with Carter,’ I muttered.
‘I know,’ said Dylan. ‘And I’ve tried a million times to dump Veronique but she won’t listen. Or she goes mental and smashes things up.’
‘So what happened outside the café wasn’t a one-off?’ I asked ’cause it had been something that kept tugging at my brain cells intermittently.
Dylan snorted. ‘That was Veronique on a good day. I don’t even like her, let alone want to be with her, but sometimes I think we deserve each other. I try to break up with her and there are broken glasses and she threatens to hurt herself, me, her cat. It’s like being back with my mum, which is just so Freudian, I don’t even want to go there.’
Dylan had finished my nails now and I swung my legs off his lap and lay down, tugging Dylan with me so I could prop myself up on my elbow and look down at him.
‘I have this theory,’ I told him. ‘I think Carter’s been busy seducing me so you get the message that I’m out of bounds. Because if you’re looking after Veronique then he doesn’t have to.’
‘I think you’re spot on,’ Dylan agreed. ‘I’ve thought that for months.’
‘It’s so messed,’ I said hopelessly.
‘But it doesn’t have to be,’ Dylan said fiercely. ‘If we were together and blatant about it, they’d have to let us go.’
‘Rebound romances never work.’
‘I only went out with Veronique to take my mind off you,’ admitted Dylan. ‘And when I’m with you I don’t feel like I’m on the rebound, I feel like I’ve come home. It’s like my whole world is just different combinations of black and white, but when you’re around everything goes Technicolor. You’re still the coolest girl I know.’
‘Do you think it would work this time?’ I asked hesitantly.
‘It has to.’ He sounded so convinced. ‘My heart couldn’t take being broken again.’
‘So I broke your heart, did I?’ I gave him a cool look. ‘That’s funny ’cause you broke mine too.’ But it wasn’t funny. I’d never told Dylan how much he’d hurt me before. And I knew that now probably wasn’t the time or the place. But these things had to be said while I still had the option of walking away.
‘Then we’re even,’ Dylan replied.
I stared at his face intently. His deep green eyes held my gaze.
‘I can’t go through all that again,’ I told him. ‘Seriously. You made me become someone I didn’t like. You made me hate myself and lose sight of all the things I liked about me: my self-respect, my dignity, my honesty. You have to know that. I sort of understand why you did it, but you still treated me like shit.’
‘I wouldn’t put you through all that again, I promise.’
‘’Cause I think about us all the time, but I wonder whether we really should be together…’ There! I’d said it. I stopped being all Tunnel Vision-girl and managed to be rational with Dylan who usually made me lose all my mental faculties.
‘Edie, stop it!’ Dylan exclaimed, and he gathered me up in a hug that almost threatened to break my ribs. ‘You have to give me another chance. Stop trying to find reasons why it won’t work before we’ve even started seeing each other again.’
There was so much I wanted to tell Dylan starting with the fact that I’d been in love with him for so long but there was a shadow looming over us, and I didn’t mean metaphorically, as I looked up to see Carter and Veronique glaring down at us.
‘What the hell is going on?’ Veronique screamed.
Dylan sat up while I put my hands over my eyes in the really mature belief that if I couldn’t see them, they couldn’t see me.
‘I’m with my best girl,’ Dylan said quietly. ‘What does it look like?’
‘What does it look like? What does it look like?’ spat Veronique. ‘It looks like that little bitch has got her claws into you again.’
‘Don’t talk about Edie like that,’ snapped Dylan, jumping to his feet.
�
�Look at her! She’s pathetic.’
Veronique did have a point. I was still lying on the ground with my eyes covered.
Showing willing, I got to my feet. I didn’t really know what to do once I was standing up, Veronique’s face was red with temper (which clashed satisfyingly with her hair), Dylan was grim-faced and Carter was smirking like he found the whole thing too entertaining for words.
‘Dylan and I are getting back together,’ I said eventually, more to fill up the silence than anything else. I looked to Dylan for support and he took my hand. The gesture seemed to trigger off something in Veronique. Something violent and dark and incredibly twisted.
Diary of a Crush: Kiss and Make Up Page 17