Melt My Heart

by Bethany Rutter

  As I run under a railway bridge on the far side of town, I see a row of posters on the dark brick wall of the tunnel and my thoughts instantly switch to the promise I made Cassie to tear them down. I may be a terrible sister by all accounts, but I won’t be a terrible friend. I slow my pace and cross the road, taking my keys out of my pocket. I run the sharpest edge of my house key along the top of one of the posters, unsticking the glue and letting it flop down before pulling the whole thing off and scrunching it in a ball that I kick along to the next one. When I’ve done all four, I gather up the scrunched-up posters and carry them in my arms to the nearest bin. I shove them in and set off again, running running running.

  Where am I going? I stop in the middle of a deserted road, panting, doubled over with fatigue. Actually, where am I? I go to check Google Maps before realizing that I left my phone at home. I wander about, a mixture of aimless and frustrated. I guess if I get lost or kidnapped by angry fascist poster designers it’ll mean I don’t have to deal with Daisy again. I wouldn’t have to go to university and leave Cassie behind. Or maybe, rather than a blessing, it would be more of an instant karma type thing. You know, for lying to my twin. I feel like I should be having this meltdown in the middle of a really intense rain storm, but the lovely seaside weather remains temperate as I burn inside.

  Then I see it. The corner shop where we always buy fireworks for Bonfire Night. From there, it’s only a couple of minutes’ walk to Cassie’s semi-detached house on a quiet street in Seaforth. I was running to Cassie. Maybe Jogging Lily does know what she’s about.

  I press the doorbell, praying she’s home, praying for comfort and praying for some familiarity. The door swings open.

  ‘What happened to you?’ Cassie asks, eyeing my still-red cheeks, my sweaty ponytail and my very-much-not-chic-athleisure outfit with confusion.

  ‘I had to clear my head …’ I say, stepping into the hall.

  ‘Who is it?’ Cassie’s dad calls from the kitchen.

  ‘Lily!’

  ‘I should have known!’ Carl calls back. Cassie’s done a marginally better job than me of keeping up with her old friends but … it really is just me and her a lot of the time.

  ‘Hi!’ I call, as brightly as I can manage. We enter the kitchen to Carl Palmer cracking eggs into a huge bowl, the top of his bald head looking … well, I suppose the polite term would be sun-blushed.

  ‘You’ve got good timing! I was just making me and Cassie some pancakes before I get back to the gardening!’

  ‘Promise me you’ll wear some sunscreen this time?’ Cassie asks, wearily.

  ‘Why, am I looking pink?’ Carl grabs a big spoon and looks in the back of it like a mirror, craning to see the top of his skull. ‘Bloody hell!’

  ‘I would love a pancake!’ I call behind me, as Cassie drags me out of the kitchen and into the living room.

  She plonks me down unceremoniously on the squishy sofa and lies at one end with her feet across my lap. We’re watching the channel that only shows wedding dress programmes. Normally we would be yelling ‘vile!’, ‘grim!’, ‘how is that different to the last one?’ and very, very infrequently, a reverential ‘oooh!’ on the rare occasion they try on something that isn’t completely disgusting. But today we watch in silence.

  Once the adverts start, she sits upright and gestures for us to switch positions. ‘So what’s up?’

  ‘Nothing’s up …’ I lie. Badly.

  She rolls her eyes. ‘Something’s up. You ran here.’

  ‘Can’t I run places?’

  ‘You and I both know … you don’t do that.’ She fixes me with a serious stare. I wonder where to begin, but deep down I know I don’t really want to talk to Cassie about Cal. Not even about me and Daisy fighting because of Cal. Good job there’s all the other stuff to tell her about!

  ‘Ugh!’ Finally, I flop back onto the arm of the sofa. What am I here for if not comfort and advice? This is what best friends are for. Reassurance. Unconditional love. Just at that moment, Carl nudges open the living room door with his hip, carrying a tray.

  ‘Pancakes for the ladies!’

  ‘Thank you so much, this looks amazing,’ I say, eyeing the little jug of maple syrup and the fresh, fluffy stack.

  ‘Now, I’m off to find a big hat before I go outside again …’

  We eat in silence for a moment, letting the ads for steam mops and juicers and inflatable beds pop up and fade away before our eyes.

  ‘I had a fight with Daisy. It started as just like a … stupid thing, you know?’ I brush off the origin of the fight as if it never happened. I wish. I really don’t want Cassie to know that Cal was Daisy’s crush. I know she’ll think it wasn’t cool for me to keep that from Daisy. ‘But then it kind of escalated and she accused me of, like, abandoning her?’

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘Well, first she said I replaced her with you – absurd – and then she said I abandoned her by changing my uni plans and accepting the offer from Leeds.’

  ‘That’s pretty harsh of her,’ Cassie says, chewing thoughtfully.

  ‘Yeah! That’s what I thought …’

  ‘I mean, on the one hand, taking something small and making it into a massive thing is very not cool. I’m sorry that it upset you so much you felt the need to run here. On the other, you and Daisy have been gearing up for a fight for ages. I’m honestly impressed you managed to keep the peace this long.’

  ‘I mean I guess so – but replacing her? Really?!’

  Cassie looks at me out of the corner of her eye. ‘So you don’t think you did?’

  ‘No, obviously not!’

  ‘But do you get why she would see it like that?’

  I sigh. ‘I mean … no?’ I think for a moment. ‘Or maybe … yes, but I hadn’t thought of it before? But it’s not like she’s perfect herself,’ I say, thinking about all the times she’s made me feel uncomfortable because of my body.

  ‘Oh?’ Cassie asks, inquisitively.

  However much I mean it, suddenly I feel disloyal. No matter what, talking shit about Daisy feels wrong. ‘Ha, just kidding. She’s perfect. Hey, the brides are back,’ I say, gesturing at the TV. Cassie looks at me sideways but doesn’t press any further.

  We hear the front door open and close.

  ‘Hi!’

  ‘Hi, Mum,’ Cassie calls.

  ‘Hi, Tracy,’ I call so she knows I’m there.

  ‘Oh! Hi, Lily,’ says Tracy as she appears from the hall.

  ‘Everything under control?’ I ask her.

  ‘As far as I can tell.’ Tracy shrugs brightly. ‘I haven’t seen you away from the stand for a long time, Lily!’

  ‘Yeah, it’s true! Thank you so much for giving me a job, I really appreciate it.’

  ‘Nonsense! I was happy to. How’s all your uni prep going?’

  ‘Oh, fine,’ I say, hoping we don’t have to talk about this for too long.

  ‘I bet your mum’s proud of you and your sister,’ she says warmly. I can feel Cassie’s body language change next to me. A defensive turn of the head away from our conversation. ‘Both going to university, going to get degrees.’

  ‘I mean, I guess.’

  ‘Such good girls.’ She smiles ruefully. ‘Now, I’m going to relax in the garden. Don’t you two want to get outside? Instead of being cooped up in here?’

  ‘We spend more than enough time outside, Mum.’ Cassie sighs.

  Once Tracy has joined her husband in the garden and is sufficiently out of earshot, I turn to Cassie. ‘What was that about?’

  ‘Just the latest in my parents’ attempts to guilt trip me about my choices.’

  ‘Oh, shit, they’re still not OK with it?’

  ‘Nope. I think if I was going to uni that would be one thing, but for me to a) not apply to uni and b) say I don’t want to work at Palmer’s forever? That’s too far. They just don’t get it.’

  ‘But you’re doing an art foundation course. That’s not nothing?’

  ‘I know that. You k
now that. But they don’t know that.’ Cassie cocks her head in the direction of the garden. ‘They disapprove.’

  ‘Ugh, I’m sorry.’

  ‘It’s not your fault. You do everything right,’ she says, playfully poking at my foot with hers. ‘It’s just a bit annoying, that’s all. I wish they got it. I wish they supported me in this, you know? I had to properly fight for them to even let me do it in the first place – you know they wanted me to do business studies or something dull like that. They see it as me letting the side down in not supporting the family business after they completely rebuilt it. Like, yeah, that’s amazing and everything, but it doesn’t mean I want to carry it on? At least, not to the extent that I’m gonna study business or accountancy or something?’

  ‘Yeah … I’m sorry,’ I say guiltily. I realize that my mum didn’t put up any opposition to my plans, didn’t try to change my mind about anything at all. Now I would definitely feel bad about sharing my uni anxieties with Cassie.

  ‘It’s not your fault. They’re just obsessed with the idea that I’m going to be unemployed and living here forever. As if that’s what I want!’

  ‘Your mum might be the only person in the world who thinks me doing an art history degree is, like, an incredibly smart, strategic thing to do – I should keep her around for pep talks,’ I joke.

  Cassie smiles weakly, but I can tell she’s not happy. ‘I know they love me unconditionally, blah blah et cetera, I just wish they were like … fully on board with my shit?’

  ‘They’re just protective, right? It’s scary and unstable to be an artist! You’re heading into a scary and unstable career. Of course they want you to be happy, but I guess for them, happiness looks like stability.’

  She nods decisively. ‘Come on, let me do your nails.’

  Not wanting to talk about Big Life Stuff anymore, Cassie paints my nails, gently layering on the vibrant red nail varnish and making sure she leaves that tiny, imperceptible gap around the cuticle that makes it look neat and fresh.

  ‘What can I say? I’m a woman of many talents,’ she says, admiring her handiwork. As I look at her looking at my nails, all glossy and red, I can’t help but feel bad that I didn’t know how she felt about this stuff with her parents. It makes me wonder what else she’s not telling me.

  Spending time with Cassie always makes me feel better, somehow. But even so, I walk home under a bleak grey cloud of irritation. Everything good in my life feels like it’s being tarnished by other people’s bullshit. Daisy assuming a guy like Cal wouldn’t have any interest in a girl like me. Accusing me of abandonment when I’m actually terrified of the choice I made. And if I do leave home, this town that I love, when I come back it will have been taken over by horrifyingly racist, homophobic human beings who probably hate ice cream like they hate everything else good in this world. And what is it with Daisy always implying that I’m spending too much time with Cassie? It’s not my fault everyone seems dull in comparison to her.

  CHAPTER NINE

  ‘So she’s still not talking to you, huh?’ Cassie asks as I hold the base of the candy-striped parasol.

  ‘Nope,’ I say, squinting up at her in the early morning sunshine. ‘Not if she can help it.’

  Cassie sighs sympathetically. ‘Well, I guess you just have to wait it out. It can’t last forever.’

  ‘I don’t know …’ I murmur. ‘But thankfully Mum knows to stay out of it. She seems to have this belief that it’ll blow over …’

  ‘It will! You’re twins. Hey, at least we know what today’s new thing is going to be!’ Cassie waggles her eyebrows at me. I swallow hard.

  ‘Yea …’ It’s not that I’m not looking forward to my hot date with Cal later, I’m just, well, nervous. Not nervous about … the thing. The actual sex part. Just nervous about everything around it.

  ‘You feeling OK about it?’ Cassie asks.

  ‘Yeah, sure!’ I say, brightly.

  ‘You don’t sound convinced.’

  I sigh. ‘Is it … going to hurt?’

  ‘Maybe. I’m not going to tell you that it’s not.’

  ‘Guhhhh,’ I say, tipping my head back in defeat.

  ‘Don’t wind yourself up about it too much because then you’ll panic and it’ll probably hurt more because you’re stressed,’ she says, resting reassuring hands on my shoulders. ‘You’re meant to enjoy it, but don’t worry if it’s not like amazing and perfect first time, that’s like … very normal.’

  ‘OK, I hear you,’ I say, as confidently as possible. ‘I just find the thought of being, like, fully naked in front of someone quite … a lot? You know?’

  ‘Yeah.’ She shrugs thoughtfully. ‘It is. But … you know there’s nothing wrong with your body, right?’

  ‘Right,’ I say, a little distracted. ‘It’s just a whole new frontier. I guess I won’t really know how I’ll feel until I’m in the moment …’

  In general, I tiptoe around the subject with Cassie. Part of me wants to know if she’s had sex with Jack yet, and the other part wants to bury its head in the sand and never have to know. But I am glad I can awkwardly hit her up for advice.

  Lucky for me, we’re not going to get a moment’s peace today. The queues are long from the moment we open. Everyone knows it’s the last really hot day of the year. The heatwave has been all over the news and word is that the temperature is going to drop overnight. But being here, during a hectic work day, is better than being home with Daisy. It feels safe just being around Cassie. I can breathe properly, and I don’t have to be constantly on my guard.

  ‘Fancy a drink?’ Cassie asks as we’re closing up for the day. A knot forms in my stomach at the thought of saying no to her.

  ‘I can’t …’ I say, slowly. ‘Remember?’

  She hits herself on the forehead. ‘Duh! Your romantic evening! How about this weekend though?’

  ‘Yeah, definitely!’

  ‘And we should do something a little different at some point too! Let’s go to the park and have a picnic or something? Or the beach! Seaforth for a change of scenery? For tomorrow we can just grab a drink?’ Cassie asks. ‘Unless you think you’ll still be at Cal’s then …’

  ‘No way, I’m not going to sleep over,’ I say, realizing the idea hadn’t even crossed my mind. ‘Tomorrow afternoon is perfect.’

  ‘You don’t think it’s weird, right?’

  ‘What?’ I ask.

  ‘I guess I mean … like, us spending all week working together then hanging out together on the weekend, too?’

  ‘Nah. Even if it is I don’t think I care that much,’ I say, shrugging. I think of my horrible breakfast with Molly.

  ‘Me either,’ she says, squinting and turning her face up to the sun. She takes her baseball cap off and lets her hair gently bounce back into its usual shape after having been flattened by the hat. She’s so beautiful.

  As we’re winding down for the day, Señor Mango Sorbet and Lady Red Plum appear, grimacing and looking apologetic, asking if they’re too late. We let them off. We’re nice like that.. ‘Ever drawn them?’ I ask Cassie.

  ‘Weirdly, no,’ she replies. ‘Maybe today’s the day.’

  ‘It’s been a while,’ I say to them.

  ‘He’s been working too hard! Hasn’t been able to leave at a decent hour,’ Lady Red Plum says, shaking her head. ‘Even today I’ve only got him for now and then he’s out at some colleague or other’s leaving drinks.’

  ‘Well, we’re happy you’re both back. Customer retention is very important to us here at Palmer’s,’ Cassie says with a wink before serving them their usual and watching them wander off. There’s something comforting about the familiarity. Like even if I won’t be here to see it, everything will just carry on as usual in my absence. Even in the winter, Palmer’s Ices does good business.

  ‘Is your mum still internet dating?’

  ‘Yes, there seems to be this one guy, though, rather than general dating. I think she’s seeing him later on,’ I say.

  ‘B
ig night for romance in Weston Bay.’ Cassie wiggles her eyebrows at me, suggestively, and maybe I’m imagining it but there’s something in her eyes that doesn’t quite match up.

  ‘Yeah! And who can believe it’s me doing the romance?’

  ‘But you do really like him, right?’ Cassie asks.

  I’m taken aback a little. ‘Yeah, sure, why not? Should I not?’ I garble

  ‘No, it’s not that …’ Cassie reaches out and puts her hand on my arm. ‘I just wanted to make sure.’

  Before long, I find myself walking to the flat Cal shares with a couple of other guys. I’m kind of excited to see him without the Daisy drama holding me back. Now it’s out in the open, I’m free to just enjoy myself, no longer weighed down by all the sneakery. I mean yeah, I’m still dealing with the fallout of previous sneakery, but I’ll deal with that later. Right now I’m just basking in the joy of dating someone who’s cool and strong enough to know their own mind, who’s kind and interesting, who likes me for who I am.

  I check my reflection in the window of a parked car a couple of houses down. I’m wearing a brilliant-white T-shirt tucked into a pleated leopard-print skirt – it was a strategic choice: cute … but easy to get on and off. I tuck my hair behind my ear, then untuck it again, then tie my hair in a ponytail, then let it down again, exactly like it was before I started messing around with it. I almost jump out of my skin when the window starts rolling down.

  ‘Oh my god! I’m so sorry!’ I say to the woman peering back at me from the inside of the car. ‘I didn’t know anyone was there!’

  ‘Don’t worry about it.’ She beams, squinting at me in the early evening light. ‘I just wanted to reassure you that you look beautiful. Keep your hair down, like that.’

  ‘Oh! Thank you,’ I say, blushing.

  ‘Alright if I drive off now? You done using my window as a mirror?’ she asks, kindly.

  ‘Yes, of course! Sorry, it’s so cringe, I feel so vain!’

  ‘Don’t worry about it!’ she says. ‘Have a nice evening!’ With that, she drives off. I’m half mortified, half touched.