by Bankes, Liz
It’s at that moment that he remembers that I am one of those students and he asks me how the placement is going. The conversation shifts to the surface and I go into ‘trying to impress people’ mode. I’m like a talking CV, and I don’t think he buys it for a second.
‘I would never have made a salesman,’ he says with an easy grin, running his hand through his thinning hair. ‘But it’s certainly exciting seeing young people going out there and doing things and thinking that maybe you had a part to play in getting them to question things and develop their ideas – if that doesn’t sound horribly cheesy.’
It doesn’t. No one’s ever put it like that before. I’ve always had in my head that I have to ‘succeed’, without thinking about what that actually means.
I’m left thinking about that as the family leave. Then it’s like someone turns the volume up again and I’m aware of all the groups standing round chatting.
‘Deep in thought?’ comes a voice from behind me.
Standing there and holding out a glass of orange juice to me is the mentor, Martin. In another smart shirt and light brown trousers. It’s like he’s already comfortable with being an adult, not trying to seem grown-up while secretly worrying that someone will soon realise that he’s not a proper person.
‘Thank you,’ I say and he does a jokey clink of glasses with me.
‘And how was the animal pub crawl?’ he says. ‘As delightful as I imagine it?’
‘It was great,’ I say.
If your idea of great is feeling very ill and breaking up with your boyfriend while dressed as a pig.
He raises a sceptical eyebrow. ‘I’m glad it was worth passing up my offer of a drink.’
‘They were offering me lots of drinks,’ I say. ‘I went for the better deal.’
He laughs. ‘You’re learning.’
A group of girls has managed to sidle up to us from all the way over on the other side of the quad. One of them expertly moves to pick up a leaflet on the table behind Martin and uses it as an ‘in’ to introduce herself.
Now it’s a group of us all talking. Which usually would mean I’m completely silent, thinking of jokey comments and stories to say, running them through my head, deciding they’re too inane/weird, not saying them, then having someone else say something really similar and wishing I had said them first. I end up continually saying ‘Me too’ and nodding, so that in the end they probably decide that I don’t have my own brain or life.
But this time Martin is running things. He directs the conversation and brings me in. I even get a laugh when I tell them some of the names of people I’ve had to phone up on the placement. For half an hour I feel like a different person. And even though I know it’s all false and I’m playing a role, I can almost distract myself from everything else.
I find myself wishing Cal could see me.
Especially when Martin takes us on a tour of the college and he puts his hand on the small of my back. Even though I know the spectacle of a group of girls all competing for some suave guy’s attention is pretty cringe. I try to ignore the mental image of my friends all making vom faces. He shows us the amazing bedroom he’ll be in next year because he got a first. It has its own sitting room.
I end up being at the college right till the end and all the tables are being cleared away. So I managed a networking event. I swapped numbers with some people (one girl even had business cards). I was so positive about the call-centre job that for a moment even I forgot how awful I am at it. I wonder if that makes me one of the young people going out into the world and getting what I want that Steve was talking about. What he said is nagging at me for some reason.
I haven’t looked at my phone all evening – highly unusual behaviour for me. When I take it out there’s a string of texts, all from Cal.
This is rubbish, isn’t it? I think we should go back to never fighting! Been so sad all day x
Just got out of work – had to stay for leaving party – ugh! Do you want to meet up? I’ve missed you today x
Sorry – remembered you have that drinks thing! I could come there or we could meet after? x
Guess that’s a no . . .
Chapter 24
I wake up in Cal’s bed alone.
When I got in last night he was still up, playing on the Xbox in the front room. I told him I hadn’t got his messages until really late and he said it didn’t matter. I said there wasn’t any signal in the college and he said it was fine.
It turns out he did go to find me and ‘a boy in a bow tie’ told him I was in some guy’s bedroom.
When I told him that wasn’t what it sounded like, his reply was that he would crash in Dan’s room and I could have his. I don’t know if he meant just for the night or for the rest of the summer.
The bed feels huge without him in it. I look over at the door and I’m taken back to the moment I met Cal. It was at this house party last summer. Max and Gabi had broken up a couple of weeks before but, as she was determined that they were going to stay friends, she said that nothing should change.
I’d got a bit more tipsy than I intended, which happens sometimes when I’m nervous and in large groups of people. Nish decided it was time to put me to bed when she found me dancing to no music in the kitchen.
I slept soundly for a few hours and then was woken up by someone crashing through the door.
He was naked, wearing a Santa hat and holding a cup of tea.
I sat up in the bed.
‘Um . . .’
He jumped about a metre in the air and flung tea everywhere.
‘Oh, hello! How are you?’ Then he winced as some tea had obviously gone somewhere unusual.
‘Good . . . thanks.’ I felt a bit delirious from being woken up.
And I could not stop staring at his willy. It was just there. Being a willy. While he was asking how I was, like everything was perfectly normal.
He followed my eyeline.
‘We were doing naked running and I came in for a tea break.’
‘Right.’ I nodded.
He put the Santa hat over it and grinned at me. ‘Would you like some tea?’
‘Okay,’ I said.
‘You’re Gabi’s friend, aren’t you? Rosie?’
I nodded. ‘You’re Max’s brother, right?’
‘That’s right, I’m Cal.’ He held his hand out to shake mine and the Santa hat fell off.
‘I should find something less flimsy,’ he said and started scanning the floor. ‘Ah!’ he said and picked up a scarf that was hanging on the inside of the door. He wrapped it round himself and tied it in a knot. ‘How’s this?’
‘It . . . looks a bit like a nappy,’ I said.
And we both started laughing.
An hour later I was still under the duvet with my legs pulled up to my chin. We’d been talking about random stuff like cheese and animals and what our ideal superpower would be.
I looked at him and tried to work out what it was I liked about him. The messy hair was just as messy then, in complete contrast to his brother, who used to gel his to within an inch of its life. He was well built, like a rugby player, I thought, but one who enjoys his food. He had sideburns and stubble and a big open grin. All his expressions seemed a bit exaggerated, like when he was talking enthusiastically about something his eyebrows curled right upwards and his eyes were all wide and sparkly. Then I knew what it was I liked. It was all of him.
‘You got any plans for the weekend?’ said Cal, lying back on the bed in his scarf nappy.
‘No, why?’ I said.
He turned his head and gave me a grin. ‘I want to take you out of course!’
* * *
I’m still watching the door. But no one comes crashing in. I’ve been going over what I want to say – to let him know that I did want to see him last night. I lie there, poised and listening, until I hear him coming down the stairs from Dan’s room. Then I leap out of the bed and walk out on to the landing.
He stops on the bottom step, his hai
r sticking up at different angles and his eyebrows knitted in a sleepy frown. He’s wearing his T-shirt with the cartoon penguin on and boxers and socks, which I always mock him for wearing in bed.
‘Hey,’ he smiles.
‘Hi,’ I say.
This confused, unspoken surge of feeling shoots between us. It’s horrible and lovely seeing each other at the same time.
‘How are you?’ he says.
‘Fine, thanks. How are you?’
My throat feels all tight. It’s so weird, speaking in this polite way to him. And not saying anything that means anything.
‘Yeah, good. Are you off to work?’ Cal says, knowing that I am.
I nod. There’s silence and Cal swallows and fiddles with the bannister.
‘Got anything planned for the weekend?’
‘Nope.’ My eyes fill with tears and I blink to try and make them go away.
I want him to ask me to do something.
Cal sees the tears in my eyes and frowns. He looks down and I see his hand move forward. A jolt goes through me as I think he’s going to reach out and hug me.
But he points sideways at his bedroom door.
‘I was just going to get some stuff.’
‘Oh, go ahead,’ I say.
‘Not if you’re still —’
‘No, it’s fine.’
‘You sure? I don’t mind waiting.’
‘No, no. You go ahead.’
As he walks into his room, he accidentally brushes past me and our hands knock together. We both apologise. Now I really understand what the phrase ‘painfully nice’ means.
Rosie has joined the conversation.
Gabi: ROSE! How the devil are you? I have everyone in my bedroom. We are all on our phones. My sister said we were losers, so I kicked her.
Mia: How was the crazy pub crawl?
Gabi: Yeah can’t believe you were going to twenty million pubs, you nutter! Did you find me a fancy man?
Nish: Good to know you’re not dead. After I spoke to you I was a bit worried.
Rosie: Hey It was good thanks! I spoke to you??
Gabi: Good?! That’s all I’m getting? I want the goss!
Nish: Yep, you called. You made no sense.
Gabi: Max is here – he says he saw you!
Rosie: What did he say?
Mia: That you tried to touch him.
Gabi: LOL. Hands off.
Rosie: LOL
Gabi: Nah he just says you weren’t making any sense. There was really no goss? What about Cleo? Or Handsome Dan?
Mia: Gabi!
Gabi: Oh let it go, he’s not in your love triangle any more!
Mia: True. I’ve had my Twilight moment.
Rosie: Cleo didn’t go and Dan left early. Sorry – there was a distinct lack of goss! How have you guys been?
Chapter 25
I sit curled up on the sofa on Saturday morning. Cal and I are still being ridiculously polite to each other and haven’t sorted anything out. Dan’s been nice and friendly, but there’s only so much I can say to him seeing as he’s Cal’s friend and they must have been talking about it.
I chatted to Arlo for ages about The Lord of the Rings, but when I said something about Cal loving the films and he thought I might start talking about the break-up he literally ran out of the room.
Cleo’s not much to be seen, as usual. I should really go and tell her I’m sorry that I assumed she was an evil boyfriend-stealer. I’m not sure how much she knows about my fight with Cal, but she must have worked out it had something to do with the late-night room visits. But she isn’t the easiest person to talk to and I don’t find it easy to talk – so in our different ways we are equally socially rubbish.
The only thing that’s different, apart from me and Cal, is that Dan and Cleo seem to be getting on better.
I just think that if I’m here we’ll have to sort it out. But at the same time I can’t face it. I’m never the one who makes decisions. Not even what film we watch or what flavour ice cream we should get. Cal always chooses.
I keep trying to watch films or episodes of TV programmes to occupy my brain, but I just stare blankly at the screen and pay no attention. I went to buy a book after work, but everything I picked up seemed to be about stupidly happy couples being in love and happy and making me feel like being sick.
I notice a book lying next to the sofa and I pick it up. On the Road by Jack Kerouac. I don’t think Jack and his friends were too in love and happy and vomitty. They were the ones who were all depressed and thought life was pointless, weren’t they? Maybe this will help.
I open it and see that someone’s written on the first page.
To my mad one. Love M x
Then I’m distracted by a message on my phone.
An invitation.
Dear M,
I got taken out on a day trip today. I kid you not. I’m being socialised against my will.
I could hear them all talking about it in the kitchen. I don’t think they realise that the sound carries up to my room. And I am perfectly aware that they’re all discussing how I need to get out of the house, like some sad, elderly relative.
Bloody Dan, I was thinking. He was supposedly my ally now, and he seemed the most determined that I really should be best friends with them all.
I heard them coming up the stairs and wondered how easy it would be to climb out of the window. The cat leapt onto the sill and eased itself inside through the gap, just to rub it in my face. I could probably get down the drainpipe and then onto the kitchen windowsill and into the back garden without too much of a problem.
Bit extreme?
The knock at the door was an awkward, jaunty rhythm so I knew it was Arlo.
I didn’t say anything and the next one was three loud raps on the wood. Dan. It was more difficult to ignore.
I shouted out, ‘What?’, the door opened and they all filed in. I asked them what they wanted while pretending to be on my phone.
Arlo cleared his throat and said that this was an intervention. Or to put it more accurately a friendtervention. (I’d heard him asking them downstairs if he could call it that. They’d said no.)
Cal interrupted and pointed at me and said they were taking me out. No arguments. And no more staying in your room like a sad case.
I half laughed and said that I’m not lonely. And then I realised that no one had mentioned being lonely. There was a moment of stand-off and I looked at Dan. Something strong was glinting in his eyes. It was easier when he didn’t like me. Then the cat walked over, stretched and sat at Dan’s feet, joining their side.
I sighed, stood up and admitted defeat. When I asked where I was being taken Cal tapped the side of his nose and said, ‘Ah!’ Then he put his arms round Simon and Arlo and shouted, ‘Come on, guys. Day trip!’ Arlo winced, as Cal was obviously gripping his shoulder tighter than was comfortable. But Cal was oblivious and pretty much danced them out of the room. He’s very much over-compensating at the moment. But you either go one way or the other, don’t you? Strangely, I think Rosie and I are similar. Hiding.
Dan hadn’t gone with the others. He turned to me as we left the room and told me to bring sensible shoes, and I told him to fuck off. It was Arlo and Simon’s idea, he said. I was seriously surprised that Simon would have anything to do with it and that must have shown in my face because Dan said that deep down Simon just wants to be a good friend.
We’d got to the bottom of the stairs by then and Simon was in the front room, slipping a pair of knickers off the clothes horse and into his pocket.
‘Deep, deep down,’ said Dan.
At the bottom of the stairs we saw Cal talking to Rosie. Dan and I caught each other’s eye as Cal invited Rosie out with us. He said it casually, like she’s just another housemate, not his possibly-broken-up-with girlfriend (long story – no one in the house has any idea what is going on), but he couldn’t hide the way his shoulders dropped in disappointment when she said no. Something about meeting some friends for lunc
h. He said he didn’t know the girls were coming up. She said they weren’t, that it was friends from her summer course, and then she started rambling about how she didn’t want to go really, but she’d said she would and she probably should if she wants to do well at the course etc, etc. I get the impression Rosie spends a lot of time going to things she doesn’t want to. But then I’m not really one to talk, considering I allowed myself to be dragged from my room and taken on a ‘day trip’.
I realised what was happening as we got to the bridge. Cal had run on ahead and so when we came down to the riverside he greeted us, waving a pole and wearing a boater hat he’d managed to persuade one of the professional punters to give him.
He said (and by ‘said’ I mean ‘shouted at an uncomfortable volume’), ‘We’re going to do as many touristy things as we can in one day. Starting with punting. Now, tell me that’s not the most awesome idea ever!’
I was about to do as he said and tell him that it was not the most awesome idea ever, but Dan spoke first. I think he guessed I would say something. He said, ‘I would say it’s oar-some,’ and pointed at some oars on one of the rowing boats. ‘Water good time we will have.’
I looked at him and he said, ‘Water – like “what a”. Because we’re going punting’. I replied that I had got it and that wasn’t why I’d given him a look. Then he leaned in close and whispered, ‘Be nice, or you’re getting boat puns all day.’
Cal stood with one leg on the edge of the boat and one on the dock, helping each of us onto the boat. Except for Simon, who refused to take Cal’s hand and then nearly fell off. When I got there Cal stopped me. He wanted to say thanks for helping him with the essays. And that even though he’s gone and screwed it up anyway he was still grateful.
I said whatever, no worries and went to go past him, but he held out his hand. In it was something wrapped in a Sainsbury’s bag.
He said he had got me a gift.
It was a chocolate cat.
Cal grinned and said it was ‘Because I know how much you love Nigel.’
I looked down at the cat and then up at Cal. I saw Dan watching me from the boat.