So Much to Learn
Page 58
~*~
Saturday morning dawned clear and bright. My childhood bedroom was almost glowing with the strength of the early morning sun and, as I threw off my bedclothes, I felt that the air was nice and warm. It was surely a good omen, I decided as I stretched out my legs and stared up at the ceiling I had awoken under so many times before.
Matt, Kristin and I had driven up to Bridunna the night before, ostensibly because Mum and Dad needed help setting everything up, but mainly because both Matt and I were going stir-crazy hanging around the flat. Rather than being annoyed at Kristin's presence on the long drive up, I was immeasurably glad she had gone with us because she was a calming influence on Matt.
He still hadn't got around to talking to Jack which pissed me off because Jack was surely more likely to listen to me if he knew that Matt had forgiven him. Then again if Matt didn't forgive him maybe it was lucky I was going to get in first.
I could hear the sounds of trucks and voices outside my window and assumed the huge tent/marquee thing had arrived and was being erected. I knew I should get up and go and help out wherever I could, probably taking cups of tea to the men working, but I hugged a few precious minutes to myself.
Like when people say you're dying and your life flashes before your eyes, the last couple of months flashed before mine as I lay there. I remembered the crushing embarrassment of finding out my boyfriend had been sleeping with someone else, my innocent affection towards Jack as he agreed to help me out and my slow spiral downward as I opened myself up to him and then slammed myself shut again.
I wondered when I'd first fallen in love with Jack. Come to that I was still struggling to figure out exactly what love was. I'd felt love before obviously, I loved my parents and Matt, I loved Simone and, even before the lessons had begun, I'd loved Jack in a way. But when had I first felt that strange tugging in my chest? When had I started every day and gone to bed every night with him on my mind? When he'd told me that he loved me? No, much earlier than that. The first time I'd had sex with him? No, I realised, it was even before that. Maybe when he'd first kissed me on the roof, our hair stirred by the wind, his hands tight around me? Nope, my mind insisted, you've got to go further back than that. Our first date? Our first embrace? Our first meaningful look? No, no, no. Did it go back beyond that fateful Wednesday night then? Did I have to start trawling through my childhood memories to find the key to the all consuming need I had to be with Jack, to comfort Jack, to be there for Jack, to love Jack? Did it go all the way back to the first time we met when, instead of saying hi and racing off to join Matt like all of my big brother's other friends did when meeting me, he had smiled solemnly and shook my hand?
But then again maybe, I had a sudden epiphany, it didn't matter when I'd fallen in love with him, only that I had.
And, like a crackle of electricity had just whizzed through me, I suddenly realised what my speech was going to be about that night. All my carefully planned words had suddenly become redundant! I threw myself out of bed and grabbed the stack of little white cards that I had written my intended speech on and, ripping them neatly in two, I flung open the window and hurled the pieces out of it. Ignoring the astonished workmen who looked up at me, presumably wondering why a girl with crazy bed hair had just blatantly thrown litter at them, I let out a whoop of excitement.
I knew that soon enough I would become crippled with anxiety and nerves, but at that moment, I was ready.