If I could just look normal enough to be let on the plane…
Then this summer could start. I could be with Mum and figure out what went wrong and how to get her to come back and start to feel whole again.
It was the family in front’s turn and the girls scurried under their parents’ legs, asking the air hostesses how high the plane went, how fast, if there were Disney films on the flight… Not asking the important question: “Is that sick-looking girl behind us going to blow chunks on our little heads?”
They were nodded through, out of splatter range. It was my turn. I took a deep breath, scraped back my bush of hair and stepped forward to give them my passport.
Look presentable. Look presentable. Look presentable.
The air hostess had so much make-up on that I couldn’t figure out what she really looked like. I focused on her foundation-caked cheeks as she took my red leather passport. She smiled and her cheek cracked.
“First time flying alone?” She used the same voice she’d used with the children.
I was scared to open my mouth so I just nodded.
“If you need anything from us, please just let me know.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled.
She peered at me curiously. “Are you okay? You look scared.”
I’m scared of flying with the world’s worst hangover…
“I’m a little scared of flying…” I came up with a genius idea. “…I get travel sick!”
“You do look peaky.”
“I’m sure I’ll be okay.”
I’d come up with the perfect cover. Thank God.
“Let us know if there’s anything we can do. Seventeen is still quite young to be flying alone.”
She beamed at me, and I decided it should be illegal to be that happy so early in the morning.
The headache hit just as I’d squeezed myself into my window seat.
“Ouch,” I said, out loud, startling the giant man sitting next to me. He’d struggled to fit into his seat and his knees were practically up by his face as he scrunched himself in. My own long legs already ached in the practically non-existent space. I reached into my bag for an ibuprofen, swallowed it dry, and took out my phone.
I had two messages. One from Lottie, one from Evie. I smiled for the first time that morning.
Lottie: I’M SO SORRY I GOT YOU SO DRUNK. IT WAS ALL AN EVIL PLOY TO GET YOU TO STAY HERE THIS SUMMER. ARE YOU ALIIIIIIIIIIVE?
Evie: Don’t leeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeave us!!!!!!!
My smile dropped. I was going to miss them so much!
Their messages triggered a flashback to the previous night…
…“I’M GOING TO BE IN THE SKY THIS TIME TOMORROW.”
We’d taken a taxi up Dovelands Hill after the pub had kicked us out. It was our hill. We’d all gone up there the night we’d first become friends. I stood up on the bench, tipped my head back and pointed into the inky blackness above me, almost falling over in the process.
Evie grabbed my arm to keep hold of me.
“Amber, get down. I’m far too tiny to catch you.”
“AMERICA, HERE I COME!!!”
Lottie was dancing to no music on the sloped grass beneath us – spinning with her arms wide out.
“Amber, I’m going to miss you so much! Can I fold myself into your suitcase and come with you?” she asked, going spin, spin, spin until she fell over with a thump onto the grass and started laughing.
“Help,” Evie said. “You are both too wasted for just me to look after. Amber, take my hand.”
I looked up at the sky once more, then stumbled into her arms and let her guide me onto the grass. I fell next to where Lottie was lying face-up on the ground. Evie sighed and got down next to us. All our heads were together, and we all looked up.
The stars were spinning.
“One of us better not have nits,” Evie said.
“Only you would think of that,” Lottie replied… Which was true.
I laughed, and stared upwards, watching the universe above me turn and turn and turn…
“I can’t wait to see my mum,” I said, quietly. Feeling just so…good in my stomach. “It’s going to be so brilliant.”
“How long has it been?” Lottie asked.
“Two years…”
Spin spin spin spin spin.
“Yikes.”
“I know…”
I pushed thoughts out of my head. Thoughts like, She didn’t even invite you to her wedding, and, You were the one who asked to go this summer, not the other way around, and, Why did she have to leave you to get healthy?
The alcohol, as always, helped me do this.
“We have six whole weeks together,” I told the sky. “Six perfect weeks…”
“Careful.” Evie’s hair tickled my face. “Nothing is ever perfect.”
“Especially if you’re working in a summer camp surrounded by hyper American children,” Lottie added.
“Quiet time now, oh negative ones.” I closed my eyes, smiling as I pictured how Mum’s face would look when we met at the airport…
The fasten-seatbelt sign wasn’t even on yet, so I figured it was safe to message them back before take-off.
I’m so hungover!! What am I doing on an aeroplane?! Help me! My head hurts so much!
I closed my eyes and listened to the aeroplane noises – the intermittent beeping, the low roar of the air-conditioning, and people politely-but-not-politely organizing each other’s luggage in the overhead compartments. All these people, sharing a journey with me. We’d be marooned together in a tin can flying through the sky for ten hours, then never see each other again.
Flying was weird.
My head hurt.
What would it be like seeing Mum again?
Was she going to, like, explain?
My head hurt.
My phone beeped. Twice.
Lottie: I can’t believe you’re going to be in charge of actual children! American ones too. Will they be called things like Hank?
Evie: You’ll be fine! Just think, any story worth hearing starts with someone our age getting on an aeroplane.
I didn’t want a story worth hearing though – I just wanted time with my mum…
I also wanted to ignore the nagging voice in my head, crowing that nothing is ever that simple when it comes to Her.
So I’m spending the summer in CALIFORNIA, with the mum who upped and ABANDONED me – and I think I’m falling for a guy guaranteed to BREAK MY HEART. This is a SITUATION DESTINED TO FAIL.
All Amber wants is a little bit of love. Her mum has never been the caring type, even before she moved to America. But Amber’s hoping that spending the summer with her can change all that.
And then there’s Prom King Kyle, the serial heartbreaker. Can Amber really be falling for him? Even with best friends Evie and Lottie’s advice, there’s no escaping the fact: love is hard.
About Holly Bourne
By day, Holly Bourne is a journalist and relationship expert for TheSite.org, a charity-run advice and information website for 16-25 year-olds. By night, Holly writes YA novels and blogs about feminist issues.
Holly’s first two books, Soulmates and The Manifesto on How to be Interesting, have been critically acclaimed and translated into six languages. Her favourite things to complain loudly about are: the stigma of mental health, women’s rights and the under-appreciation of Keanu Reeves’ acting ability.
Q&A with Holly
What does feminism mean to you?
Equality for everyone, regardless of their gender. IT REALLY IS THAT SIMPLE. I know some people think feminists want to win power from guys, walk them around on leashes made from our plaited grown-out armpit hair and then lock them all in cages. But that’s not it. Feminism is for all genders. Feminism benefits all genders.