by Zoe Sugg
“. . . love,” he whispers.
I nod and take hold of his hand. “I like you so much it might even be love too.”
He laughs. “You don’t get lines that smooth in the movies.”
I laugh too. “No. But smooth is very overrated.”
And then he wraps his strong arms around me and pulls me close. “I’m so sad you’re leaving,” he whispers in my ear.
“Me too.” I lean into him and rest my head on his shoulder.
“But this isn’t it, you know?”
I pull back and look at him. His hair is tumbling in messy waves around his face. I fight the urge to reach out and touch it.
“I’ll figure out some way to come visit you in the UK, and you can come back here whenever you want and until then we can hang out online. I’m even prepared to break my Internet detox for you,” he says with a grin.
“I’m honored,” I say.
“You should be,” he says.
And then he starts to kiss me. Little kisses as light as butterfly wings all the way up the side of my neck. Then on my face, my eyelids, the tip of my nose, until finally our lips meet. And our kiss is so passionate and full of meaning I don’t want it to ever end. But then something starts beeping. I pull away from Noah and stare at him in alarm.
“What’s that?”
“Sorry, it’s my watch. I set it for midnight so we wouldn’t miss the new year.” Noah pulls me back in toward him. “Happy New Year, Penny,” he says.
“Happy New Year, Noah,” I say, hoping with everything that I’ve got that it will be.
Noah gently guides me down so that we’re lying on the cushions and, as he holds me to him, I silently beg Father Time to show some compassion and freeze all the clocks in the world so that our kisses will last forever.
Chapter Thirty-Five
It’s official. I hate Father Time. I hate him more than I hate school bullies and exams and even pickled onions. In the end, Noah and I got about an hour together before the others arrived back home. An hour that flew by in a nanosecond. But I have discovered one small consolation. Whenever I close my eyes and remember what happened, my skin starts tingling where Noah touched me and it’s like I’m with him all over again. I might not have been able to stop time but at least I’m able to time-travel back to the tent. I’m doing it now as I wait in the hallway for Mum and Dad to bring down their luggage. Sitting on my suitcase, eyes closed, remembering the way Noah stroked my hair and ran his fingers down my back.
“Penny for your thoughts.”
I open my eyes and see Noah looking at me from across the hallway.
“I was thinking about the tent.” My face starts to flush.
“Me too. I can’t stop thinking about it.” Noah comes over and takes hold of my hands. “Why don’t you go down there and hide? I’ll tell your parents you were abducted by alien pigs and they can go home without you.”
I give him a sad smile. “I wish I could.”
He puts his arm around me and I rest my head on his shoulder. It’s a perfect fit. We’re a perfect fit. This is so unfair.
“It’ll be OK,” he whispers in my ear. “It’ll be OK.”
But will it? How can it be, when we live so far apart?
All the way to the airport, I feel as if I have a ball of sorrow growing inside me like a tumor. Mum and Dad are traveling in Sadie Lee’s car with Bella and I’m in the truck with Noah. Noah doesn’t even need to do his running commentary of traffic maneuvers—I’m so numb with grief I can’t even panic.
As we pull into a space in the terminal car park, Noah turns to me. “Listen, Penny, is it OK if I don’t come in with you guys? I’m not very good at public goodbyes. I’d rather say what I have to say here—now—while it’s just the two of us.”
I feel a little stab of disappointment.
Noah reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulls out a blank CD. “I have something for you. It’s something I made—for you.”
I take the CD and look at him hopefully. “Is it—is it the song that Bella was talking about?”
Color rises in Noah’s cheeks. “It might be.” He laughs. “OK, it is. I recorded it on my computer so the quality’s not that great but I want you to have it. I want you to know how I feel.”
I look at the CD player in the truck. “Can I play it now?”
Noah laughs and shakes his head. “No way!” He presses it into my hands. “Save it for when you get home. That way it’s like you’ll have a message from me as soon as you get there.”
The sorrow inside me starts to shrink a little. I take hold of Noah’s hand. “Thank you. Oh, but I haven’t got anything to give you.”
“You’ve given me loads.” He squeezes my hand. “You have no idea how much. Truth is, right before I met you, things had gotten a little—”
He’s interrupted as Sadie Lee pulls into the space next to us.
“Never mind,” Noah says with a sigh. He cups my face with his hand. “Penny, I like you so much it might even be love.”
“I like you so much it might even be love too.” My heart fills with hope. Doesn’t love conquer everything? Isn’t that what the song says? And if it does conquer everything then that has to include the Atlantic Ocean too.
I hear Sadie Lee’s car door opening. Time is running out. Noah pulls me toward him and we kiss.
“I told you they love each other,” Bella says in a loud voice right outside the truck.
• • •
All the way home on the plane, I cling onto that last conversation with Noah like an emotional life raft. Every time I feel anxious or upset I remind myself of how much has happened since I left the UK. It’s almost as if I’m returning home as a totally different person. But this time I’m not having to pretend to be someone else—I don’t need a superhero alter ego—this time I’m OK just being myself. Every time the plane hits some turbulence, I start running through a mental checklist of everything I’ve achieved since coming away: I’ve learned how to get my panic attacks under some kind of control, I’ve been the semi-official photographer at an American wedding, I’ve gone record shopping in Brooklyn, I’ve had my first ever American Christmas, I’ve fallen in love. I’ve fallen in love! And even as I watch the little plane icon on the screen in front of me slowly tracking its way farther and farther from America, farther and farther from Noah, I still feel OK. Somehow I feel certain that we’ll make it work.
When we land in the UK, my relief at making it back safely combines with my newfound confidence, and even though I’m exhausted, I’ve never felt so determined. I’m going to sort things out with Elliot. I’m going to save up my money from my job at To Have and to Hold to pay for a flight back to New York. I don’t care about the stupid video and I don’t care about Megan and Ollie. I’ve shed my previous life like an old skin. I picture it drifting somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.
We finally get home at just gone midnight. Everything looks different. Unfamiliar. The Christmas decorations look sad and dejected, and the house is freezing cold.
As Mum and Dad make some tea, I go straight up to my bedroom. I have to play Noah’s CD. I plonk down onto my bed and straightaway I hear a knocking sound. Elliot! I hold my breath as I wait to decipher the code. One knock, followed by four knocks, followed by three: I—love—you. My body fills with relief. Since Christmas Day we haven’t texted each other at all. It’s the longest I’ve ever gone without having any contact with Elliot. Before I can respond he’s knocking again. Can I come over? I quickly do the code for Yes, come over right now.
I can play the CD later. I need to get things back on track with Elliot first. I hear his front door shutting and I lie back on my bed staring up at the ceiling. I hear Dad letting Elliot in, the gentle murmur of their voices. Elliot’s feet pounding up the stairs. My life is slotting back into its old patterns. I count the seconds till my bedroom door opens. One, two, three, four . . .
“Penny!” Elliot bursts in, breathless. “I’m so s
orry. I’ve missed you so much. Are you—? Are we—OK?”
I sit up and smile. “Of course we are.”
“Oh, thank God!” Elliot sits down on the end of my bed. “I’m so sorry I got so moody. But you have no idea the pressure I was under. It’s been hell. Guess what my parents got me for Christmas?’
I shrug.
“A rugby season ticket. Rugby! They know I hate rugby. With a passion.” Elliot throws his hands up in despair. “Why would you give your only son a present that you know he actively hates with a passion? Why? And they actually thought it would be a good idea for us to have a cheese fondue for Christmas dinner. I mean, hello! The seventies called—they say they need their kitsch back.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “Oh, Elliot.”
“I know. They’re beyond help. Or hope.” Elliot looks at me and sighs. “So go on then.”
“What?”
“Tell me all about Prince Charming.”
“Seriously?” I study Elliot’s face for any sign that he doesn’t really mean it.
Elliot smiles. “Yes, seriously.”
So I give Elliot a watered-down version of my week with Noah, leaving out anything too corny that I think might make him feel jealous. When I finish, I look at him nervously.
Elliot’s expression is unreadable. “But how do you feel now? Now you know you can’t see him again?”
“It’ll be OK—we’ll work something out.”
Elliot frowns. “But how? He’s in New York and you’re in Brighton.”
“Yes, I know that.” I fight hard to stay positive. “But we can visit each other.”
Elliot nods but there’s something about his gaze that looks really doubtful and it makes a chink in my armor of positivity.
We both fall silent and I start to really regret having said anything.
“So, do you have a picture of him?” Elliot asks, breaking the silence.
I nod and take my phone from my bag and scroll through to the picture of Noah in the park. “This was on Boxing Day morning, when he took me on the tour of his neighborhood.”
As Elliot studies the picture, I study his face for a sign of approval. I so badly want him to like Noah and to be supportive. He gives a curt nod. “Very nice,” he says, but I can detect a slight undercurrent of tension. “He looks kind of familiar. Must be those Johnny Depp cheekbones.” He hands the phone back to me. “So, listen, how do you fancy coming into town with me tomorrow? I’ve decided to buy a plaid shirt, to go with my new cowboy hat.”
And that’s it—conversation about Noah, over. As Elliot carries on talking about how it’s time to “Americanize his look,” I feel so disappointed. Surely your best friend should be happy for you when you meet someone? Surely they should want to hear all about them? I just don’t understand what Elliot’s problem is. Especially now that I’m home and thousands of miles away from Noah.
I’m thousands of miles away from Noah.
Just as I’m about to be engulfed in a wave of sadness, my text alert goes off. While Elliot is still talking, I dive for my phone and open the message.
Hope you’re home safe. But wish you were still here. I miss you, Inciting Incident
I grin with relief.
“Should I go?” Elliot says, looking pointedly at the phone.
“What?” I say, distracted as I start composing my reply to Noah in my head.
“Do you want me to leave?”
“Oh. Well, I am pretty tired—from the flight.”
Elliot gets up. ‘“OK. See you tomorrow then.”
“Sure.”
As soon as Elliot has gone I send a reply to Noah.
Yes, home safe but miss you too and wish I was there too. Just about to play your CD xx
I light the orange-and-cinnamon candle that Sadie Lee gave me for Christmas and put on my fairy lights. My text alert goes off again.
Gulp! I hope you like it
I open the case and take out the CD. I suddenly get an attack of nerves. I’ve been imagining it as a heartwarming ballad but what if it’s something jokey and silly? What if it’s about how much I love crunchy peanut butter? Get a grip, I tell myself as I put the CD into the stereo and press play. I needn’t have worried. Right from the very first gentle strum of the guitar, I know that it’s going to be beautiful. As I lean back against my bed, I spot a little folded-up note inside the CD case. I open it as Noah starts singing. At the top of the page is the title “Autumn Girl.” Beneath it are the lyrics. I read them as Noah sings.
AUTUMN GIRL
Autumn Girl
You changed my world
You made my winter golden
When I was lost
You made me found
Your loving smile
Turned my life around
Autumn Girl
You changed my world
You made the moon shine amber
And now you’re far
Away from me
I close my eyes
And still I see
Your sunset hair
Your glowing skin
The arms I long
To be held in.
Autumn Girl
You changed my world
You changed my world
You changed my world
By the time the song’s finished playing, my entire body is glowing like my cinnamon candle. Noah wrote that for me. He wrote those beautiful words for me. About me. I grab my phone and send him a text. I go overboard with kisses at the end, because I know he won’t mind.
I love it! Thank you xxxxxxxx
Straightaway he replies.
Seriously?
Yes!!! It’s beautiful Xxxx
So are you
I’m about to reply when he sends another text.
The most beautiful inciting incident in the history of inciting incidents
Ditto xxx
That night, when I go to sleep, I play Noah’s song on repeat and I imagine myself back in the tent, surrounded by the warm glow of fairy lights and with Noah’s arms wrapped tight around me. For the first night in ages I don’t have any nightmares.
2 January
HAPPY NEW YEAR!
Hello!
I hope you all had a great Christmas.
So, I’m back home. And as it’s the start of a whole new year I thought it would be fun to do a post about new year’s resolutions.
On the plane on the way home I read a magazine article that said you should only choose three new year’s resolutions because that way there’s way more chance of you actually achieving them.
This is so true!
I used to be so into new year’s resolutions I’d write pages of them and then, by February, when I’d only done about one of them (and never the one about eating less chocolate) I’d feel all crap about myself and not bother anymore.
So this year I’m only going to have three and I think it would be really cool if you guys each chose three too and posted them in the comments below and then we can keep up-to-date with each other’s progress—just like on the fear post.
So I’ll start. This year my three resolutions are:
Number One: To be happy
Number Two: To face my fears
Number Three: To believe in myself
OK, I just realized something as I was typing.
If it wasn’t for Brooklyn Boy I wouldn’t be posting those resolutions at all.
The truth is he’s already helped me to start achieving all three of them.
I’m missing him SO much right now but your comments on my previous post have really helped me.
Thank you so much to everyone who said that things will work out between us. If I could add on a sneaky extra resolution it would be to believe in that too.
And thank you to everyone who posted about the fun people who’ve made the weirdest places interesting. I loved hearing about them.
And to all of you who have asked me to post a picture of Brooklyn Boy, I’m really sorry, but some things
just need to be kept private. I hope you understand.
Happy New Year, everyone—I can’t wait to read your resolutions!
Girl Online, going offline xxx
Chapter Thirty-Six
As soon as I’ve posted my blog, I sit down at my dressing table and start getting ready to go out with Elliot. It’s almost midday and Mum and Dad have gone to the supermarket to do a mega-shop as there’s hardly any food in the house. Tom is back home and downstairs doing some last-minute work on a uni assignment. Everything around me is going back to how it was before New York—but I’m not.
As Noah’s song plays in the background, I look at my reflection in the dressing-table mirror. On the surface I’m the same person—the same sprinkling of freckles on my nose and the same auburn hair—but how I see myself is totally different. It’s a bit like when you watch a movie with a killer twist at the end and you discover that the goodie is actually the baddie. But in this case the twist is that I’ve discovered that I’m not embarrassing and ugly after all. I’ve discovered that the things I thought were ugly actually make me look like autumn—and sunsets. I don’t need to conceal my freckles with a layer of foundation anymore. I don’t need to tie my hair back to hide its redness. I can leave it down and show it off.
Seeing myself through Noah’s eyes has helped me to see the truth. I look at the photo of Noah pinned to the top of my mirror. I printed it out as soon as I woke up this morning so that I’m still able to see him whenever I want. “Thank you,” I whisper to his smiling face.
I’m just about to brush my hair when the text alert goes off on my phone. My first thought is Noah but as I click into my messages my heart doesn’t just sink—it plummets. It’s from Megan.
Hey, Penny! Are you back home? It would be lovely to catch up xoxo
I stare at the screen. And then I realize that this is one of those “put your money where your mouth is” moments. If I truly have changed I have to prove it with my actions, starting right here, with Megan. I click on reply and text back.