“Where are we going?”
“Away.”
“Where away?”
“To darker locations with more privacy.”
I felt a thrill build in my toes and echo up my back.
Hands held, we walked back in the vague direction of our houses, the same way I’d walked with the girls. But this time we stopped at every lamp post to kiss, not for me to touch it six times. When we got near my house, Guy pulled me through a hedge into this pretty little grassy place with a war memorial in the middle. It was bathed in moonlight, the silver from the sky reflecting off the stone. A few soggy paper poppies from last week’s Memorial Day were scattered on the steps. In the darkness, they almost looked real.
“I’ve never been here before, it’s so pretty,” I said.
Guy didn’t reply. He just squeezed my hand and manoeuvred me onto the damp grass. I was on my back, his weight on top of me, and he was kissing me like the world would implode the next day. It felt so gorgeous – the sky above my face, his tongue in my mouth, his hands creeping up the sides of my top – every inch of my skin covered with goosepimples now. I ran my hands through his hair and he did that weird groan again. It was surprising, in a nice way, that I seemed to be quite good at it. Maybe it was all those years watching people kiss in the movies. I’d learned by Hollywood osmosis.
Things with Guy were getting a bit past 12A by then. His hand strayed dangerously close to my chest, and my bra, and my bra’s interior contents which weren’t quite ready for him.
How do you say “stop” when you’re busy kissing someone?
Then, just as he was an inch away from my underwire, his phone went off.
Guy rolled off me and got his screen up, while I lay there, looking at him. It was a little bit like the meadow scene in Twilight, apart from the empty beer cans on the grass. Oh, and, well, the graffitied bench over there. And, I guess, yeah, I was quite sure Guy had a boner right then because something had been sticking into my leg and I really didn’t think Edward Cullen had a boner in the meadow because that would’ve ruined it, quite frankly.
“Who is it?” I asked, rearranging myself and feeling shy. Guy’s face was lit up by the artificial blue light. He didn’t reply, just started messaging.
I can do that too, I thought. I got out my own phone. There was a message from Amber. I’d forgotten all about her.
Evie, I’m sorry. Where are you? How are you getting home? I’m with Jane and Joel. You coming to Lottie’s Spinster Club meeting tomorrow?
I frowned at it. I was still a bit mad, I guess. About what she’d said about Guy. She didn’t know him, not like I did. He’d been so sweet this evening… I think.
I’m with Guy. I know you have opinions but please don’t share them right now. I’ll see you tomorrow… I paused for a moment before adding, I’m sorry too.
I put my phone back in my bag and looked up at Guy. His face was dark again. My stomach did an uncomfortable flip-flop. “What is it?”
He shrugged. “We didn’t win. Your boyfriend’s band did.” His tone made the uncomfortable flip-flop do a backflip.
“He’s not my boyfriend. I told you, I…”
Guy interrupted me. “I mean, who lets a cover band win a battle of the bands? They’ve not even written a song. What did they contribute?”
“Well, I…nothing, I guess.”
His lip curled. “Oh shut up, Evie. I know you loved them. I saw you dancing to their stupid set. You didn’t even watch ours.”
“I…I…”
He stood up abruptly. “Joel’s parents are out so he’s having a few people back to his. I’ll walk you back then I’m heading there.”
“Oh…okay.” I stood too.
He stormed off through the bushes and I had to half run to catch up with him.
What had happened? Was it my fault? Why wasn’t he inviting me to Joel’s party? Was I a bad kisser after all? Was he really that upset by not winning? Ethan’s band was much better… Were we boyfriend and girlfriend now? Why wasn’t he holding my hand? What did he want from me? Should I maybe try and make the first move? Make it back to how it was fifteen minutes ago?
I matched his pace and gently took his hand. Guy looked down at it. He squeezed it a bit and then dropped it like it was the wettest fish in the fish shop and kept walking.
We stormed through the darkness in silence – my mind whirring ten million miles a moment.
What’s going on? What have I done? Is it my fault? It’s usually my fault. Does he still like me?
When we got to my house I was resigned to the fact I’d ruined everything. I held back tears, my jaw wobbling with the sheer effort. Rose’s light was still on. Oh God – how was I going to get past without her seeing me cry? Then she’d tell Mum and Dad and they’d put me back on the medicine and I would’ve failed once again, like I fail everything, like life is just one big test I keep flunking.
“Well,” I said, not able to look at him. “Bye then.”
I went to leave – the tears right in my ducts now, just waiting for the command to fall uncontrollably for the next two hours…
“Evelyn.”
Guy kissed me hard again. And all my tears turned to gasps of breath. And my heart…it was beating so hard, it was so filled with relief and happy.
He grinned at me, his teeth almost bumping into my teeth.
“I had such a good night,” he whispered.
And he was gone.
Rose was reading one of my film magazines in bed. She saw me tiptoe past the gap in her bedroom door. “Evie? What’s happened? I can see your smile from here.”
I stopped and put my head around the door. “Oh, hey, Rose. I’m fine. How are you? Did you have a nice evening?”
She put the magazine down. “Why are you talking to me like you’re at a job interview?”
“Oh – am I?”
“You are. You just did it again.” She smiled, though it was a bit sad. “Something happened with you and Guy, didn’t it?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Get in and tell me everything.”
She looked so happy for me – so genuinely buzzingly happy for me, that I forgave her for the cleaning box and clambered under her duvet.
“Well…” I said. “It all started when Ethan kissed me.”
“ETHAN?”
“Yes.”
We whispered and giggled until time lost all meaning. Rose was so lovely about Guy. She got it, I guess. What a big deal it was.
Just as she was falling asleep on my shoulder, I remembered something.
“Hey? Weren’t you supposed to be staying at Rachel’s tonight?” Rachel was her best friend and I vaguely remembered Mum talking about her ice-skating and sleepover party.
“Oh…that…” Rose said sleepily. “She got sick… I’m so happy for you, Evie.”
Rose fell asleep.
I carefully untangled our limbs and tucked the blanket up around her. Her little face was so peaceful. Is that what I looked like when I slept? Was it the only time my face looked that serene? Without my conscious brain to bully me about? I crept to my room and clambered into bed.
I had rolled in grass, I’d danced in a sweaty mosh pit, I’d had Guy’s tongue in my mouth, his unclean hands on my body.
I didn’t feel like washing any of that away.
Unhelpful thought
Say thank you, Evelyn.
I should, really. My good night. My gorgeous perfect night – it was my reward. For touching the mirror, for touching all the lamp posts on the walk in. I’d done what the universe had told me to do and it had rewarded me.
You should always say thank you.
I pulled out every film individually from my shelves and touched it six times, whispering “thank you” as I did.