Then it was bedtime and we stood in the coed bathroom together brushing our teeth. Smiling. Spit rolling down from the corner of Sid’s mouth. “I feel like we do everything the wrong way, end first instead of the beginning. Am I supposed to brush teeth with you when I haven’t even kissed you yet?” I spit in the sink and wiped my mouth on a towel.
She said, “You’ve kissed me.” She spit in the sink and then rinsed and gargled with water.
“Exactly, just not in the usual place.”
“Where exactly was that . . . I can’t remember. Can you show me?” She lifted her shirt a half-inch exposing her belly button.
“You know it was in Malibu.”
She laughed and looked in the mirror. “I need to change my bandage.”
“Let me.” I pulled up close to her and peeled the edge of the bandage up and off. She winced.
“It’s looking better.” I fished another bandage out of the box. Then I unwrapped it, placed it, and rubbed my thumbs down the side to adhere it. She lifted her chin, and I leaned in and kissed her.
Then three people walked into the bathroom and interrupted us, because this was a public bathroom in a coed hostel.
I’d like to say that at least now we had kissed.
I’d like to add, it wasn’t my best work.
One Hundred Thirty-Five
Sid
Teddy’s papers were done. Mailed. Early because of the time difference. That spinning earth thing was very helpful.
We checked the timetable for trains to Edinburgh and found one that left around dinner time. We would get into Edinburgh at about 11:00 p.m.
We booked the best hostel in Edinburgh according to everybody we asked, called the High Street Hostel. We bought pastries and cheese and chocolate and drinks for the road and then we were on the train.
These things were all new. I didn’t ride trains generally, I Uber-ed. I didn’t walk around London after dark and make plans to ride across countries with Teddy. Yet here I was, doing a ton of all new things, and oh man, it was awesome. We stowed our suitcases and slid into our train seats at a table. We both sat on one side. The train slid away from the station and slowly outside our window grew dark and there was nothing to see.
Teddy turned on Spotify, his The Waves Suck Today playlist: lots of Blink 182 and Weezer, and offered me one side of his earbuds. I pulled out my iPad and returned to reading a book I started before I left home. Teddy raised his arm and wordlessly I nestled in under, leaned against him. Curled up. My heartbeat sped and
I
just
loved
him
so
much.
See that’s what I meant, he didn’t crash in to me, he welled up in front, all hot and necessary and comfortable, but oh my god, I literally couldn’t breathe but in small irregular breaths. And only when I concentrated. Which meant I couldn’t read, not really, and so I nestled more, and then I inched and shifted up so that my lips were on his neck and I kissed there, and my hand was inside his jacket, rising up to his cheek pulling his mouth to mine.
But then the door of the train berth opened and three young men came in, Australian, saying, “Pardon me, Mate,” and “Resume the position,” with a laugh. I straightened up in my seat and Teddy chuckled, because: interrupted, again.
Then one guy really looked at me. “But seriously, did this bloke do this to you?”
“No, you should have seen what he did to the bloke who did this to me.”
They nodded appreciatively at Teddy. “Congrats Mate, for winning the prize.”
Sexist jerks.
But, fine. Teddy had had enough of blame for Gavin’s abuse. He deserved some respect. Another guy said, “Yep Mate, and the sad part is the train is packed. We’re stuck with each other.” They smiled and laughed and we all rode in the now crowded compartment to Edinburgh.
I nestled in under Teddy’s arm but it wasn’t quite the same as it was moments before.
One Hundred Thirty-Six
Teddy
The High Street Hostel was a lot like the one in London. Crowded: with energy, stuff, people, excitement, and more people. The front desk booked us into two different dorms: one for girls, one for boys. I supposed we were taking this relationship real slow. Slower than stacked-in-bunkbeds slow, we were crawling along in down-the-hall slow.
We walked up the stairs to the hallway and stopped for a minute, facing each other, packs on our backs. I leaned on the wall and she mirrored me. I grabbed the strap on her shoulder and pulled her toward me. She smiled.
I leaned in to kiss her on the edge of that smile just as a crowd of Japanese girls came giggling down the hall. One girl squealed, “Ooh! Kissing!” They giggled even more until they noticed Sid’s injuries and their expressions turned to worried.
Sid offhandedly said, “Not him, another guy. That’s why I’m kissing this one. He’s a good one.”
I kissed Sid on her cheek. “Good night.”
Her eyelashes fluttered. I caught a brief glimpse of her sleepy bedroom smile, “Good night Teddy. I’ll see you in the morning.”
We got up early and met downstairs for breakfast. Sid was buzzing with excitement. She drank a lot of coffee and get this, after all those months and months of sad, broken despair, she was bouncing. In her seat, on her toes, when she went for another cup, holding her day pack, asking if it was time to go yet. I laughed, “The first tour is at 9:00, the walk to the palace is about twenty minutes, it’s 7:55.”
She said, “I hear you saying this Teddy, but all my brain keeps saying is, don’t be late, don’t be late, don’t be late. What if we’re late?”
I slung my daypack to my shoulder and we left through the blustering cold to walk down the Royal Mile to the Palace of Holyroodhouse, the home of Mary Queen of Scots. It was a monumental thing, this moment. I knew it and she was feeling it to her core. She was wide-eyed and so excited, but somehow held my hand while we walked, tethering herself to me, in case she lifted off but also to pull me faster as she raced down the road.
We had to wait in the courtyard for thirty-five minutes. When the tour guide approached to begin, our group was small, me and Sid with four other people. Sid introduced herself to everyone and with a smile said, “Before anyone asks or wonders, this guy did not do this to my face.” Then she asked how long the tour would be, introduced herself to the tour guide, asked how long he had been working there and what his credentials were. He answered that he was a volunteer, and passionate about the history of the palace. Sid rocked up and down on her feet. “Awesome, thank you, I’m so excited, thank you, carry on.” Basically letting everyone on the tour know she was seriously fangirl-nerding over this whole thing.
The tour began and Sid walked separately from me, near the front, by the guide, asking question upon question wrapped up in more questions.
Then this happened:
The tour guide looked to the left and right and seeing the halls clear, invited us into one of the inner chambers. We followed him inside, and Sid asked, “Is this where she slept? Where she ate?” The guide nodded and spoke directly to Sid. “Since there aren’t that many of you . . .” He unclasped the hook on the barrier rope. “Perhaps you’d like to touch a few things and look around.”
Sid asked, “Really? Oh my—really?” She turned to me with a full broad smile. A tear brimmed on her lower lid, but it was a happy tear, had to be, because of that smile. “Teddy, I’m on the carpet, oh my god, I’m touching the mantel. Oh my god.”
I chuckled, “I see. Touch the chair—hundred percent she sat there.”
“Oh my god.”
The tour guide said, “This is the place where David Riccio was murdered, fifty-six stab wounds. He was dragged through here to . . .”
Sid was enraptured. She followed the tour guide asking about details and theories and conspiracies and facts.
I stood to the side, enjoying the show.
One Hundred Thirty-Seven
Sid
T
o say I was excited would be an understatement. Come to find out, even the bad things, the terrible things that happen to us, that cause us to lose our way, can, if we do our best—wait, better yet, here’s a surfing analogy:
Life gives you waves.
I’m a firm believer in taking them and seeing where they go, and sometimes those ‘goes’ can crash you up on the rocks, but this was me paddling back out, catching the next one and what a ride!
But as Teddy would have said—I could have watched the waves, skipped the ones that would crash me on the rocks. I could have been patient and counted and waited and taken this one, without the injury, and the ride would have been just as good.
But would it have been?
Maybe the crash made this ride even better. And that’s not to say the crash was necessary, but maybe I should forgive myself for crashing. And for not being better at everything.
Also, waves, the pattern, the roll, the one right after another, building. It all mattered. It all made sense.
Mom died.
Unexpectedly, terribly, knock the knees out from under my body, blow the top off my life.
But she also interrupted me.
Because maybe that day in Malibu was a mistake, because me and Teddy were just going with the flow, riding the first wave that came along.
Maybe that interruption was important.
Maybe Mom had perfect timing, for her awful death, because of what it brought.
Possibly she sent Gavin, to teach me what it was like to crash.
Because Gavin got me to London.
Gavin brought Teddy to London with a heroic hot awesome urgency.
And then I chose Teddy, completely.
And now me and Teddy were in Scotland, at Holyroodhouse, on a cold day in December, and my tour of the home of Mary Queen of Scots was so sparsely attended that the tour guide let me into the inner rooms.
From there to here. Crash bang roll. Survive. Thrive.
At the end of the tour the guide left us near the gift shop, and I asked Teddy, “Can I go around again?”
He said, “Yes, let’s.”
He was beautiful when he said yes.
We stopped for lunch at a pub and then walked up the Royal Mile to Edinburgh Castle. We explored for a few minutes with a promise that we would come tomorrow. Because, if you can believe it, the sky was growing dark already.
We walked to the hostel and, freezing, rushed in the front door. 4:00 p.m.
The lobby was empty, but in the lounge almost every seat was full, so I grabbed Teddy’s hand and yanked him to a stop. “Wait.” I pulled him in by his collar and kissed him, quickly, desperately, his arms went around me. Bundled in coats and hats and scarves, he squeezed me closer. We kissed and kissed, pressed together, with freezing cold noses and bright red cheeks. Until we were interrupted by a large group of rambunctious backpackers walking in the door.
I giggled, my mouth still pressed to his. Then pulled away, “We are definitely keeping it slow.”
He smiled, “Except no longer taking it easy.”
He led me into the lounge and we found two chairs in the corner. Teddy turned them face to face and he dropped into one and I dropped into the other. I untied my boots and pushed my feet in beside Teddy. He wrapped his arm around my calves.
“So a good day?”
I shook my head, “Nope, second best day. First was two days ago.”
He smiled, “I’m glad.”
“We should come up with some stuff you want to do too.”
“Me? Sure. I want to see where Mary ate breakfast, where she was born, where she—”
I laughed, “No seriously, what do you want to see?”
“Loch Ness, I think I’m the guy to get to the bottom of it all.” He grinned.
“I’ll add it to the list.” His head was cocked to the side, resting on the head rest. Dark brown hair curled and long enough to run my fingers through. His neck strong and—”Teddy, thank you, for today, for it all.”
“Of course,” He looked down at my leg as his fingers traced the back of my calves. Quiet.
After a few minutes I asked, “What are you thinking about?”
He looked at me for a moment. “You. This. How great this is, but—”
“There’s a but?”
“I’m also thinking that if we were home we would be waking up together.”
I teased, “Oh we would, would we? You’re awfully sure of yourself, by my calculations we’ve been together mere days.”
“The first time I held your hand, I was eleven months old, it’s been forever, we would definitely be waking up in bed together right now.” He grinned. “Have you seen me?”
“Is this cocky attitude how you got all those girls—”
My phone vibrated in my pocket. I plucked it out and looked at the notification. Red climbed up my cheeks.
One Hundred Thirty-Eight
Texts
Hey Sid of the Southbay
I’m so sorry
Just so very sorry
I’ll be back in LA January 3
Can we get together to talk?
I miss you
Please
One Hundred Thirty-Nine
Teddy
I could see it in her face. The text was from that guy. She wouldn’t look up from her phone she just stared at the screen. I wanted to grab the phone, to see it, to pull him through it and . . .
I sat up and forward, elbows on my knees.
“Can I see?”
“Nah.”
“Yeah, that’s probably best. Can you give me the safe version?”
“He’s apologizing. Also wants to see me in LA in January.”
Teddy ran his hands through his hair. “How are you going to respond?”
“Not sure.” She stared off into space while I twisted my fingers between my knees.
After a minute she said, “Can you put on your Friend Hat for a minute, to advise?”
“Um . . . I can try.”
“So, I don’t want him to call me, or text me, or anything, but . . . what do I do?”
I said, “Let me renounce my pacifism and punch him in the face and see how he likes it.”
“Very funny, and no.”
“Well, that was my Friend Hat talking, with my Boyfriend Hat on I have better advice. I think.” I looked down at my hands. “You have to tell him no and tell him you’re blocking his number.”
She looked down at her phone and typed.
One Hundred Forty
Sid
“So that’s it, blocked. He won’t bother me again. So don’t worry.”
He leaned in the chair. “Okay. I mean, I probably will, but that’s not your fault.”
“Also, I’m sorry about that.”
“I told you you don’t have to apologize for him—”
“Not for him, for asking you to put on your Friend Hat, I won’t do that again. I like the Boyfriend Hat on you better. Also, your Boyfriend Hat is smarter, that friend advice was not good. Clearly my relationship with you makes you a better person.”
He nodded. “Yeah. Probably.” He stared out in space and then asked, “Are you hungry for dinner? It’s still early, but then we can come here and play board games all night.”
We didn’t. We ended up going with three British guys and two American girls down the road to a pub for dinner, hanging out at a table, talking for hours, though Teddy was quiet through most of it. He held my hand, but seemed distracted. That text from Gavin must have upset him, more than he would admit, and I couldn’t blame him. I still had the bruises across my face.
We walked to the hostel in the freezing cold darkness, arms wrapped around ourselves, breath floating away over our shoulders, hunched, focused on walking fast. This was freezing for two Southern California kids.
Just before the door he grabbed my elbow, slowed me down, and turned me around, “Please don’t go in yet.” He drew in for a kiss, sweet and soft, but then his kiss gained urgency, pulling me close
r through our layers of coats. The only warm places our breaths and our mouths and so we kissed and breathed onto each other’s cheeks.
“God Sid,” he whispered into my ear.
Then he said, “I don’t want to go inside, but it is cold as an Eskimo’s left nut out here.”
He kissed me again, but a giggle started inside that I couldn’t suppress and it burst from my lips. “An Eskimo’s left nut?” I giggled some more. “What’s up with his left nut, is his right nut warm?”
“I don’t know, it’s just a saying.” His face was close beside my cheek, breath in my ear.
I giggled more bordering on too-much-giggling. “What about pants? Why isn’t the Eskimo wearing pants?”
“I don’t know—forget I said anything about the Eskimo.”
I laughed again, “But now I seriously can’t get that image of a left nut out of my head.”
Teddy moaned.
I said, “You brought it up not me.”
He stood straighter and ran his hand through his hair. “Yeah, I know, and we ought to go inside.”
“Oh Teddy, it just struck me as funny.” I pulled the lapels of his jacket, but he resisted. “What, Teddy?”
“Let’s go inside.” He opened the door and we stepped to the wall just inside the empty lobby. We leaned, facing each other.
I rose higher on my toes to kiss him, and he pulled his head away.
“What?” I asked.
He said, “We all have images in our heads that won’t leave. I just wanted to kiss you.”
Sid and Teddy Page 22