by Liz Bankes
Before I can go to her, the front door swings open again and it’s still not Nish. It’s Spencer. He sees me and heads out through the gate. As he heads over, Rosie looks up and has a panicky expression when she sees me. She tells the person on the phone she has to go and fumbles with the phone.
But by this point Spencer is standing between us.
‘Hey,’ he says, frowning. ‘Are you okay?’
I stare up at him, wishing I didn’t have to explain.
‘I told you I was mental.’
His eyebrows are raised but he sounds amused. ‘Am I that bad a kisser?’
At that moment I catch Rosie’s eye as she comes up behind him. She ends the call and has a very different expression to the panicked one she had a few moments ago.
But I can’t really process it and my brain must be all over the place because I thought the name disappearing from her phone screen said Max.
I swallow and look back to Spencer, standing there with his thumbs in his back pockets and just waiting for my explanation. He looks concerned, but he must just be wondering what the hell is wrong with me. I bet other girls he’s kissed at parties don’t freak out and run off. Kissing people is supposed to the fun.
In my head, I tell him everything. That I was with someone for three years. That I’d never kissed anybody except him. How it’s all I know. And that all I could think about as we held each other under the stairs was how Spencer doesn’t know me at all.
I thought Max would be the only person I kissed in my whole life.
Thinking that makes a big lump form in my throat that stops any words I want to say from passing my lips.
But just then, the front door opens again and Nish stomps out in her massive heels.
‘Where have you been?’ I shout, finding myself suddenly able to speak the moment I tear my gaze away from Spencer. I can feel his eyes still fixed on me. Then I notice Nish has got mud on her dress and a twig in her hair. ‘What have you been doing?’
‘Running round the back garden in the pitch black.’
That’s quite a weird thing to do. Maybe she’s drunk.
‘Next time,’ she says, removing the twig, ‘can you be more specific than I’m outside by a tree?’
Chapter 12
I have a massive panic when I wake up at three a.m. in a random bed, before I remember that we crashed in one of Spencer’s housemate’s rooms. Granny said it was fine to stay as long as there were no men in the room. I texted her before we went to bed letting her know it was a man-free zone. She replied, Lock the door – they sneak in. I don’t really want to know how she knows that.
Nish is sleeping face down as usual. I am sure it’s not normal and I don’t know how she breathes, but Effie says she always does it. Tonight she has her arms by her sides so it looks even weirder. Like she fell and knocked herself out. She also talks in her sleep and apparently used to really freak everyone out at sleepovers. Once Nish texted me in her sleep in the middle of the night. It was quite terrifying to wake up to a message saying, I can see you.
I sit up in the bed and peer over to where Rosie is sleeping on an inflatable mattress. Her phone is poking out of the top of her bag. I could creep over and just check if it was Max she was talking to, but that’s a bit mental, even for me. It’s just that the idea that there could be something going on between Max and Rosie has made me feel like I’m fourteen again and panicking that Max will definitely fancy my prettier friends more than me.
But, at the same time, I want there to be something going on. At least it would mean that Max had done something a bit wrong as well. Each other’s friends are totally off limits, even if I’m the one who ended it. If he’d gone there it wouldn’t be all on me, who broke his heart and made him cry while I didn’t cry at all.
The sad feeling swells up again. It’s a cold sensation that makes me feel like my body is just an empty shell. Because I hurt the person who I was closest to. I swallow to force the sad feeling back down. My eyes hurt, but still I haven’t cried. Everyone thinks I’m heartless.
The temptation just to sneak a quick peek at Rosie’s phone is too much. I just need to know. I slip out of the bed and creep forward, staring at Rosie, although I can only half see her in the shadows, as if I will be able to somehow read in her face what is going on. She moves her head – and her eyes open and look right at me. She’s woken up and seems terrified! To be fair, I must look quite scary looming over her like this. I decide to make it look like I’m sleepwalking and slowly turn and walk back to my bed.
Thinking about it, this probably looks even more frightening.
I lie on my side, closing my eyes but feeling all hot and panicky. What am I doing, being mental to Rosie? These guys were all here for me when I broke up with Max. When it happened Mia was having a weekend in Wales with Jamie and she made him drive her straight back. She brought round an Indian takeaway and we sat in my room all day while she put on films that had Ryan Gosling with his top off in them.
Mia let the others know, and when I got into college on Monday they’d made a Cheering Up Gabi brunch, because they know I don’t eat properly when I am sad. Rosie had made cupcakes. She’s the one who’s good at hugs and saying lovely things. Nish gives practical advice like, ‘You should sack off men and be a lesbian.’ You wouldn’t think we’d only been a gang for a year.
About an hour later I wake up again. It’s four now and I can still hear raving going on downstairs. I wonder if Spencer is still here. When Nish came out, I just ran over to her and didn’t say anything to him. He called to me to wait, but I pretended not to hear.
I tried to tell Nish and Rosie that nothing was wrong, but they dragged me off and barricaded me in a toilet, so I told them that I kissed Spencer and it made me feel sick.
Nish said that was to be expected. When she and Effie went on a break, Nish got with some girl at a party to make Effie jealous and apparently when it came to it, she completely freaked out.
When she mentioned the jealous bit, I caught Rosie’s eye in the mirror and got a squeeze in my chest because it made me think of her phone call. But I couldn’t bring myself to ask her about it.
We vowed to go back out and enjoy the party, just the three of us, and went back down for more dancing.
Spencer was there, dancing with some girl. Maybe that’s how it is for these uni types – one girl freaks out and runs away so they shrug and move on to the next one.
I kept looking over at them and may have accidentally evilled the girl. Spencer saw me looking a couple of times and had a curious expression, like he was trying to work me out.
Lying here and absentmindedly stroking Nish’s hair – it’s very soft – I realise two things properly: one – Spencer was looking over at me too, and two – right now, I really need the loo.
I creep out onto the landing, praying that there is no one in the bathroom. If there is, I would actually have to go and do it outside I am that desperate. Spencer might not try to kiss me again if he found me weeing in his garden.
‘Hey,’ a voice calls through the banister by my feet, which makes me jump and (literally) almost wet myself.
Spencer comes up the stairs, also heading for the bathroom, but I nip in front of him to get to the door first. It’s locked. Someone is in there.
‘NO!’ I am almost bent double and doing a little side-to-side dance.
Spencer looks at me with mock concern. ‘What’s wrong?’
I give him a glare and a little jab in the ribs.
He shakes his head and then knocks loudly on the bathroom door. ‘Rav, get out.’
There’s the sound of some fumbling, then the door being unlocked. Ravi and some girl come out, looking dishevelled and a bit annoyed. I’m about to say, ‘Get a room’, but then I remember we are sleeping in Ravi’s bedroom, so instead I just leg it past them and into the loo.
It is the best feeling ever. I am probably a bit too vocal about it, but I have honestly never been that relieved.
When I co
me out, Spencer is sitting on the stairs and he gives me a weird look. I sit down next to him.
‘Enjoying yourself?’ He tilts his head towards me.
‘That was the best and longest wee I’ve ever had.’
‘You’re quite different to other girls I know, Gabi.’
‘I don’t think I am. Anyone would have enjoyed that.’
He smiles and then looks more serious. ‘Look, I’m sorry if I came on a bit strong.’
He pauses, probably wondering if I’m going to say something, but all the stuff about Max catches in my throat again and I’m silent – highly unusual. So he carries on.
‘If I like someone, I just go for it. But I’d really like to keep getting to know you. I promise not to kiss you again.’
‘Good, cos it was really gross.’ I smile at him, grateful that he hasn’t asked me to explain anything.
He nods. ‘Thanks for that.’
‘Do you want to stay here and chat?’ I ask.
‘Nah, sounds rubbish.’ He flashes me a grin, probably to avoid getting another jab in the ribs. Then he stands up and pulls me to my feet as well. ‘My room’s a bit more comfy. As long as you think you can keep your hands off me.’
Spencer’s room is right at the top of the house. It has a slopey roof and posters all over the walls – all ones advertising plays. Some of the plays are famous, like The History Boys, and Shakespeare ones. But there are also flyers and pictures from uni or school productions and a couple of them have Spencer’s name on them. The poster for Julius Caesar has a picture of him in a toga. I lean in to get a closer look at that one.
He sees what I’m looking at and says, ‘What?’
A few things have surprised me. He actually is really serious about acting.
‘You have a toned arm,’ I say, which was actually my main thought looking at the poster.
‘Do you want to see a good view?’ he says.
‘Of your arm?’ I reply. That would be a bit arrogant of him, not to mention weird.
‘No,’ he says shortly. And he climbs out of the window.
Chapter 13
He’s climbed onto a ledge, which is a relief.
There is a bay window below Spencer’s room, jutting out from the front of the house and creating a wide ledge. It has a short stone wall running round it, but still looks precarious. I’m leaning out of the window with the curtain closed behind me.
‘Come on.’ He pulls my hand. ‘What are you scared of?’
I look at him. ‘Dying?’
I am terrified of heights, which is totally logical. A bit like being scared of being hit by a car or thrown into a fire. As I explained to Max while I was being lowered down from the treetop walk in Kew Gardens by the fire brigade, a fear of heights is far more rational than being scared of spiders because heights are actually dangerous and can kill you. Although he just narrowed his eyes and replied, ‘The ones in Australia can.’
‘I’ll just stick my head out,’ I tell Spencer. Saves bothering the fire brigade.
‘Fine,’ he says. ‘Wimp.’ And he leans back against the outside wall to my left. I lean against the window frame and look properly at the view. All the streetlamps and car headlights are twinkling through the tops of the trees on the square. There’s a light breeze that is whistling through the leaves above the murmur of people over towards the high street – still out at four in the morning. These crazy Londoners.
We stand there just watching and listening for a few moments.
‘It’s like it’s noisy and quiet at the same time,’ I say.
Spencer turns his head. ‘Deep.’
I reach out to biff him on the head and he laughs. ‘No, I know what you mean.’
And that’s it. I can talk to him again and we chat. About the plays he’s been in. How he loves the buzz of getting a line exactly right and feeling the reaction from the audience. It’s stuff that Granny’s told me about, so I tell him loads of her stories. He says she sounds a bit like me.
He stands up and faces me. ‘You know, it’s brilliant getting to talk about this. People think I just joke around all the time, but that’s because it’s easier than saying that there’s something you really want.’
‘Because you might go for it and then not get it and everyone would know,’ I say.
He nods. ‘Yeah.’ His eyes meet mine. They’re serious and sparkly. ‘So what do you really want, Gabi?’
I shrug. ‘I’m just here to see famous people.’
His eyes narrow. ‘That’s not true.’
Well, no, but it’s embarrassing admitting that I have loads of writing ideas in a notebook. They’re probably all rubbish anyway. I return his narrow-eyed look.
Spencer moves to climb back in the window. He puts his hand high up on the window frame to pull himself in and his T-shirt rides up again so I can see some of his stomach. I step back to give him room, forgetting there’s a curtain behind me, so we sort of collide.
‘Well, this is awkward,’ he whispers.
I swallow. ‘Yeah.’
He doesn’t move, obviously thinking about the running away and freaking out, but I can hear him trying to steady his breathing.
But as he leans in I move my head a fraction. From this angle, the kiss would be on the lips. There’s a pause. Nerves and excitement and just wanting are all pulsing through me.
He edges closer. Our lips are almost touching. And we pause for a moment. Just waiting on the brink. Something invisible is pulling me into him and it takes all my effort to hold myself back. It’s a leap into the unknown, just like before, and a ball of nerves and excitement pulses through me, but this time I think the excitement is winning.
And then we both push together at the same time. The tip of my tongue meets the tip of his. A feeling like fire is spreading through my chest and my legs and everywhere. And then he pulls away.
‘Well, better get some sleep.’ His head is still inclined towards mine.
‘Yeah, that’s what I was thinking.’
It was NOT.
He offers to sleep on the floor, but as it’s a double bed I say that would be silly. Spencer agrees, as long as I don’t grab him in the night. I tell him I’m not responsible for what I do in my sleep.
I’m turned towards the wall and grinning to myself as he slides under the covers. All this joking around, when there’s the real possibility of something happening beneath it, is putting me on edge – in a good way.
On the wall next to his bed are loads of photos of him and his friends on nights out. In a lot of them he has his arms round girls and is grinning or pretending to kiss them. With Max, I knew all his friends and he knew mine. Our social lives always involved each other and I always knew where he was. Spencer’s got a whole life that I know nothing about.
‘So have you shared your bed with many men?’ he says. It’s like he can read my mind.
I get that heart squeeze again. Imaginary Max pops into my head. All the times we were squashed up in my single bed. All the times we . . .
‘Just one,’ I say.
‘Really?’ says Spencer, sounding surprised.
I immediately turn over on the pillow. ‘What are you saying?’
‘No!’ Spencer tries to dig himself out. ‘I just thought – you’re all outgoing and confident. I thought you’d have lots of guys after you.’
I thought I’d only sleep with one guy ever. And now I’ll never be with Max like that again.
Well, that’s your fault, says imaginary Max in my head. I wish imaginary Max wasn’t such a smartarse. And wasn’t right. And wore clothes.
I’m looking up at the photos on the wall again.
‘Have you slept with loads of people?’ I ask him.
‘Ha! You’re direct, aren’t you?’
‘Yeah,’ I say, still facing the wall.
‘Okay, then. Twenty-four.’
‘Oh my God!’ I spin round on the pillow and look at him.
He’s lying on his back, but he twists to face m
e. ‘It’s not that many!’
‘It is compared to one.’
He pauses for a beat. I’m fiddling with the duvet. I know I’ve reached the point where I should stop talking. But I also know that I won’t.
‘Why does that matter?’ He shrugs.
Well, because if I sleep with you then you’re way more experienced and I’ve only ever done it with one person, so I could have been doing it completely wrong the whole time and not even realise.
I’m really glad I just thought that rather than saying it out loud.
Then I see Spencer’s face and realise I did say it out loud.
‘Not that I am going to sleep with you because things between us are strictly friendly,’ I say firmly and turn to face the wall again.
‘Of course,’ he says and kisses my shoulder.
Chapter 14
When we get back to Granny’s the next morning she’s not there. It’s a relief to be honest because out of everyone Granny would probably notice that I seem different and have a bit of a happy glow going on. I snuck back into the other bedroom in the morning and Nish and Rosie didn’t even realise that I’d left.
When they asked how I’d slept I heard myself telling them that it was fine apart from Rosie’s snoring. And then that was it – I’d kept it a secret.
After I’d told them how the first kiss freaked me out I didn’t think I could explain the second one. And since it won’t be happening again, they don’t need to know.
‘She’s gone for a run,’ says Nish.