by KE Payne
Barnaby Rudge: Hah, hah! Yeah, a few.
I put a winking sign next to that, just to kinda let Joey know I’d seen some girls I liked.
Joey: Cool.
Barnaby Rudge: It was, yeah. I felt a bit like a kid in a sweet shop, to be honest. So much choice! I bet half of them were straight, though; I mean, I was there with my two straight mates, after all.
Joey: LMAO.
There was another, longer pause. Then:
Joey: Are you looking for someone, then?
Barnaby Rudge: Yeah, I s’pose I am. I guess I want to feel what I felt with Fickle again; those butterflies when you think about them, that rush of excitement when you know you’re gonna see them, you know?
Joey: Yeah, I know! Listen, you wanna Skype?
Barnaby Rudge: Yeah, but I’ll have to keep my voice down. Mum and Dad are in bed.
Joey: Mine too! We’ll whisper.
We said our good nights to Twiggy and logged off from MSN, bringing up Skype, poking our tongues out at each other, like we always did when our videos flickered into life and our grainy webcam faces peered at each other.
“You’ve got eyeliner on!” Joey exclaimed, pointing at my face. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with eyeliner on!”
“Well, I’ve been out, haven’t I?” I did a silly pose, like a model pouting, and she laughed.
“You look nice.” Joey nodded, smiling.
“Thanks! Are you saying I don’t normally look nice?” I carried on pouting at her.
“Of course not!” Joey laughed.
“Meaning, of course not, I don’t usually look nice?” I raised my eyebrows.
“You know what I mean,” Joey said. “You always look nice.”
She looked away from the webcam briefly.
“So what have you been up to tonight?” I asked.
“I spoke to Claire earlier.” Joey smiled tightly.
“Great!” I said, meaning it. “And?”
“And nothing.” Joey smiled again. “She was just on MSN and we had a quick chat, that was all.”
“And, uh, is she still with whatserface?” I asked.
“Anna? Yeah, she’s still with Anna. And very much in love, apparently.” Joey nodded.
“Nice of her to tell you that,” I said sarcastically.
“I can totally handle it,” Joey said. “Maybe not six weeks ago, but I’m so over her now.”
“And you know what?” I smiled at Joey. “I think I’m over Fickle at long last too.”
“That’s what we like to hear.” Joey smiled back.
“I certainly think about her a lot less now,” I said.
“Sounds like we’re both getting there, then,” Joey said.
“I finally figured I’d wasted enough tears and enough of my life on her,” I said. “I deserve someone better than that.”
“You do,” Joey said.
“And my mates have been great about it all, and they said they’ll come out to some bars with me, so maybe I’ll strike lucky soon,” I said, grinning at Joey.
Joey looked at her watch.
“Have you seen the time?” she gasped. “Gone midnight! I better go; I’m getting dragged into town tomorrow by Mum to buy my dad a birthday present.” Joey mock yawned, fanning her mouth with her hand.
“’K,” I said. “I need some beauty sleep as well.”
“Yeah, you do!” Joey blew a raspberry at me.
“Cheek!” I blew one back.
“It’s good to see you looking so happy, Imms,” she said, smiling warmly.
“It’s good to feel so happy,” I replied, meaning it.
We said our good nights and I logged off, heading straight for bed. I lay in bed awhile, thinking about gay bars, girls, and Joey and had just started thinking that Claire must have been absolutely crazy to dump her, when tiredness overcame me and I fell fast asleep.
Chapter Twenty
I woke up the next morning to a text from Twiggy, telling me she had a day off from the supermarket and did I fancy some cyber-karate on MSN later? I giggled as I read her text through bleary eyes.
It’ll b like the old days, she wrote. B good 2 just piss about, just me and u, like we used to.
I sent her one back, telling her the challenge was on and that I’d see her online later in the afternoon. I spent the morning knuckling down to some college work, work that had been put on the back burner over recent weeks, primarily because I’d been too depressed over Fickle to even think about stupid studying.
I thought about Joey too, being dragged round the shops by her mum, and smiled to myself. Joey didn’t really strike me as the shopping kind, certainly not if the numerous photos I’d seen of her were anything to go by. She was a lot like me, I thought; not really into fancy clothes, just the sort of gear you feel comfortable in and that you know will suit your style; bit of Jack Wills, bit of Superdry—jeans, oversized jumpers, Converse trainers, Airwalks, nothing too snazzy.
By lunchtime I figured I’d done enough work for a Saturday and texted Twiggy, telling her to get her arse onto MSN so I could kick it into touch. She arrived around ten minutes later, full of her usual corny jokes and tales of her lazy husband. I suddenly realised what fun I’d missed out on during those weeks when I was so wrapped up in Fickle that I seemed to forget about everything and everyone around me.
Barnaby Rudge: I just wanna say that I’m sorry if I got so caught up with all that Fickle business that I neglected you, Twigs.
Twiggy: LMAO, that’s okay! I’m a big girl, I don’t ever feel neglected.
Barnaby Rudge: Yeah, but you know what I mean.
Twiggy: I do. And thanks.
Twiggy paused.
Twiggy: And I’m sorry if I didn’t fully understand what you were going through with Fickle, both when you were seeing her and when you weren’t.
Barnaby Rudge: S’OK, Twigs.
Twiggy: And I know Joey feels bad about being the one to have to tell you about Fickle.
Barnaby Rudge: I know she does, but I had to know, didn’t I?
Twiggy: She had her reasons for telling you.
Barnaby Rudge: I know, she told me. She didn’t want me to get hurt. I understand.
Twiggy: Yeah, ’cos, like, if she ever thought she’d hurt you, she’d be devastated.
Barnaby Rudge: Okay, devastated is a bit OTT, Twigs, but I see where you’re coming from. LOL.
Twiggy: Yeah, okay. LOL!
Barnaby Rudge: Anyway, perhaps she did me a favour in the long run.
Twiggy: Yeah? How?
Barnaby Rudge: I dunno, I guess all that shit with Fickle has kinda jerked me into action. I’m on the lookout for a new girlfriend now.
Twiggy: You told Joey that?
Barnaby Rudge: LMAO, kinda. She seemed fairly interested in it.
Twiggy: I’ll bet! She’ll be well pleased! That’s what she wants! It’s what she’s wanted for ages!
Barnaby Rudge: Eh?
Twiggy: Ah. Just read your message just now again and read it wrong first time! Soz.
Barnaby Rudge: About me looking for a new girlfriend?
Twiggy: Yeah.
Barnaby Rudge: So why does Joey want me to get a new girlfriend?
Twiggy: She doesn’t.
Barnaby Rudge: Yes she does. You just said.
Twiggy: Did I? Well, ignore that. I didn’t mean it. I just read it wrong.
Barnaby Rudge: Eh? I don’t understand, Twigs!
Twiggy: Forget it. My mistake.
Barnaby Rudge: No! Tell me!
Twiggy: There’s nothing to tell you, BR!
Barnaby Rudge: You said, she’ll be pleased. That’s what she wants.
Twiggy: Yeah, she does.
Barnaby Rudge: I still don’t understand!!
Twiggy: She wants YOU, BR. Joey wants you. She likes you.
Barnaby Rudge: I like her too, Twigs. She’s kewl.
Twiggy: No, I mean, she LIKES you, you twit!! She’ll never tell you, so I’m telling you for her.
>
I stared at the screen, my eyebrows sky high.
Barnaby Rudge: Likes as in…likes??
Twiggy: Yeah, you clot!
Barnaby Rudge: Wants as in…wants??
Twiggy: Yes!
Barnaby Rudge: How do you know?
Twiggy: She told me, idiot!
Barnaby Rudge: When?
Twiggy: When you were still with Fickle. She said she hated that you were with her, but she had to sit and watch it all unfold. Said it was awful.
Barnaby Rudge: And then she went out of her way to dig up some dirt on Fickle so that I’d finish with her? Is that it?
Twiggy: No!! It wasn’t like that. She stepped back when you were with Fickle, let you get on with it. But when she saw that Fickle was making a fool of you, she said she had to step in.
Barnaby Rudge: That was big of her.
Twiggy: Don’t be like that, BR. If you only knew the nights she’s poured her heart out to me over you, you wouldn’t be saying that. She likes you, BR, and she couldn’t sit back and watch you get hurt.
Barnaby Rudge: That’s crap. I don’t believe you.
Twiggy: Believe it, BR.
Barnaby Rudge: The only reason Joey told me about Fickle is ’cos she’d been dumped by Claire and couldn’t stand to see me happy. And now she’s telling you she likes me to, shit, I dunno, to justify it.
Twiggy: That’s bollocks and you know it.
There was a pause. Then:
Twiggy: I got something for you, gonna e-mail it to you, okay?
I waited while Twiggy went quiet, then flicked up my e-mail in-box and opened a message that she’d just sent me. It was dated from around six weeks ago; the time when she first told me about Fickle. My eyes flickered over the message, picking out certain sentences:
I really like her, Twiggy. Have done for a while but I gotta keep it to myself ’cos she’s so wrapped up with this Fickle kid that if I start declaring words of love to her now it’s gonna totally pickle her head, isn’t it? And I figure Immy’s head’s pickled enough already without me jumping in with my bloody great size nine feet (except that I’m only size six LOL). So what can I do? Just say nothing to Immy about the fact I think she’s the best thing since sliced bread and that I can’t stop thinking about her, and let her figure things out with Fickle for herself? I just dunno, Twiggy, and it’s doing my bloody head in!
Then another one, dated a bit later:
So, I dunno what to do, Twiggy. It’s like, she’s with this girl and this girl’s making an idiot of her with some other chick, and do I tell Immy or not? And I’ve, like, spent sleepless nights wondering just what the hell to do and the only thing I can come up with is to tell Immy, however much it’s gonna crush her.
Barnaby Rudge: So?
Twiggy: All the times you were busy with Fickle, Joey would be telling me on MSN how much it hurt her, but that she was happy as long as you were happy. She left you to it, BR. She could have made something up about Fickle if she’d wanted to break you two up, but Joey’s not like that. Even you know that.
I suddenly felt like I’d been stung. The thing was, I did know that. The one thing that was a dead certainty was that Joey wasn’t devious. She was wise, she was sensible, she was nice; she certainly wasn’t sly or malicious in any way.
Barnaby Rudge: I know that, yeah.
Twiggy: But then when Fickle started all this up with this LisaD person, Joey said she couldn’t sit back and ignore things any more.
Barnaby Rudge: Sounds like Joe.
Twiggy: You know as well as I do that Joey’s nice to the core. She isn’t Fickle, BR. Don’t tar her with the same brush ’cos Joey’s a million times nicer and better than Fickle.
Barnaby Rudge: I know.
I did. I knew.
Twiggy: So, BR, you see as one door shuts, another one opens. Must be nice to be so popular!!
Barnaby Rudge: But I’ve never thought of Joey as anything more than a friend, Twigs. It’d be too weird—it’d be, I dunno, like shagging my own sister! LOL.
Twiggy: Oh right! Well, uh, don’t go telling Joey that, will you? In fact, in hindsight, probably best not to say anything at all to her, yeah?
Barnaby Rudge: I kinda wish you hadn’t told me, Twigs.
Twiggy: I s’pose I just wanted you to know that Joey had her reasons for doing what she did.
Barnaby Rudge: I hope this won’t make things awkward with me and her now.
Twiggy: It doesn’t have to, BR. Just carry on as you were and pretend I never said anything.
Barnaby Rudge: I think I’m gonna go now, Twigs. I think I need to process all this!
Twiggy: Sure thing. Hey, BR, just don’t say anything to Joey. I don’t know whether she wants you to know she likes you. She figures you’re still raw over Fickle and you don’t need any more hassle.
Barnaby Rudge: I won’t tell her, I promise! See ya.
Twiggy: Cya, BR.
I logged off and headed downstairs, kinda in a daze. Joey was nice, yeah, and I liked her—I liked her a lot—but she was, well, she was Joey. Funny, silly, dependable Joey. Always there for me with her gags and wise words and chickeroos…but she was Joey! I knew I could never go there! Why did life have to be so bloody complicated sometimes?
*
I managed to avoid speaking to Joey for the next few days, in part because of the amount of work I’d been given from college, but primarily because I didn’t really know what to say to her. Twiggy blurting out to me that Joey liked me had thrown me into a bit of a spin and I figured the best way out of it was to do what any other pickle-headed person would do—ignore it and hope that it went away.
I met Beth and Emily most days either in the college canteen or in the pub across from the college, Beth always careful to not come with Matt because, as she told me, “It would be, like, toooo weird, don’t you think?”
I had to agree. Matt, of course, never knew anything about Fickle or my coming out to Beth and Emily, and I’d been eternally grateful to Beth in particular for never telling him. I’d asked her specifically once I’d come out to her not to tell him. I figured the guy had had enough shit from me without finding out that he’d been dating a gay girl once.
“Now, this we have to go to!” Emily said one particularly noisy Friday lunchtime in the pub, which was crammed to the rafters with students, giddy with excitement that the weekend had finally arrived.
She pushed the free paper she’d been reading across the table to me and tapped her finger on an advert in the bottom right hand corner of the page.
Singles Night at The Porter, the advert read. Get your glad rags on, boys and girls, and come and meet the person of your dreams.
“The Porter’s where we were the other week, isn’t it?” I looked up at Emily.
“Sure is.” Emily grinned back. “You up for it?”
I thought for a second.
“Could meet the woman of your dreams, Immy,” Beth said. “Says so in the advert, right there.”
“I’m too shy to go on my own!” I laughed, picking up my glass and taking a large slug from it.
“We’ll come with you, won’t we, Em?” Beth winked mischievously at Emily.
“Try and stop us!” Emily giggled.
“But you two’ll be like a pair of wallflowers all night,” I said.
“Ah, but we can also check out the talent for you,” Beth replied, picking up her glass and taking a drink, looking playfully at me over the rim.
“I dunno…” I started.
“Don’t give me ‘I dunno’, missy!” Emily interrupted. “You’re never going to find Miss Right just sitting at home night after night, are you?”
“S’pose not,” I said, trying not to sound too sullen.
“And you want to get this Gemma girl out of your system once and for all, don’t you?” Beth nudged me playfully.
“She’s already out of my system,” I said, suddenly thinking of Joey, for some bizarre reason.
“Then it’s decided.” Emily c
lapped her hands. “Next Saturday, the Porter, you, me, and Beth, deal?”
I nodded reluctantly. Did I have any choice in the matter?
*
It was all very well, me ignoring Joey, but of course, she had no idea that I knew she fancied me, and as far as she was concerned, things were just as they’d always been between us. She carried on texting me and e-mailing me, even though I didn’t always reply, and although I felt like a complete cow ignoring her, the truth was, I didn’t know how else to handle it. Looking back, yeah, I handled it badly, but at the time, it seemed the only thing to do.
By the fourth night of blocking her out, she finally rang me. I was up in my room, my head stuck in one of my maths textbooks, trying to work out some stupid formula that, no matter how many times I looked at it, just refused to make sense. I saw her name flashing up on my mobile and my finger hovered over the Off button, but something inside me told me I couldn’t ignore her forever.
“Hi, Joey,” I said, speaking kinda warily, which was dumb. This was Joey, after all.