by Alice Oseman
Unfortunately, this only lasted half an hour before Rooney intervened.
Me, Jason and Pip had gone to sit down on some leather sofas when Rooney appeared with a guy I didn’t know. He was wearing a Ralph Lauren shirt, peach chinos and boat shoes.
‘Hey!’ Rooney shouted at me over the music. ‘Georgia!’
‘Yeah?’
‘This is Miles!’ She pointed at the guy. I looked at him. He smiled in a way that immediately annoyed me.
‘Hi?’ I said.
‘Come dance with us!’ Rooney held out a hand to me.
‘I’m tired,’ I said, because I was.
‘I think you and Miles would really get along!’ said Rooney. It was painfully obvious what she was trying to do.
And I did not want to go along with it.
‘Maybe later!’ I said.
Miles didn’t seem too bothered, but Rooney’s smile dropped a little. She stepped close to me so that Miles couldn’t hear us.
‘Just give him a try!’ she said. ‘You could just kiss him and see.’
‘She’s fine,’ said Jason’s voice from one side. I hadn’t realised he was listening in.
‘I’m just trying to help –’
‘I know,’ said Jason. ‘But Georgia doesn’t want to. You can see it on her face.’
Rooney struck him with a long stare.
‘I see,’ she said. ‘Interesting.’
Miles had already wandered off towards some friends, so Rooney turned to Pip, who was also listening to the conversation with a stern expression, and said, ‘Quintana? Shall we dance?’
She said it like she was challenging Pip to a duel, so Pip of course accepted and went to dance with Rooney like she had a point to prove. Rooney wasn’t sober enough to understand the point that Pip was trying to make: Rooney hadn’t got to her. Except she obviously had. I sank back into the sofa with Jason and we watched Rooney and Pip dance.
It almost looked like Pip was having fun, were it not for the Mr Darcy-like grimace on her face every time Rooney got too close to her. Lights flashed around them, and every few seconds they would be hidden from view by other dancing bodies and smiling faces – but then they’d return, and they’d be a little closer to each other, moving to the music. Rooney towered over Pip, mostly because of her giant heeled boots, but she was a few inches taller normally anyway, and when Rooney put her arms round her, I felt suddenly worried that they’d both just fall over, and then Pip started to protest, but must have found herself ignored, realising she’d got herself into this situation and now had to deal with it.
For a moment I thought Rooney was going to lean in and kiss her, but she didn’t.
Pip shot a glance at me, and I just smiled at her, then stopped watching them. They weren’t going to murder each other. Hopefully.
Jason and I ate a packet of crisps Jason had procured from the bar and we talked, and it reminded me of what we’d do on the school play dress-rehearsal days when we weren’t needed in a scene. Pip was always a lead role so she was busy the whole day, but Jason and I would get to sneak off and sit behind a curtain somewhere, eating snacks and watching TikTok compilations on my phone, trying not to laugh too loud.
‘D’you miss home?’ Jason asked.
I thought about it. ‘I don’t know. Do you?’
‘I don’t know,’ he said, closing his eyes and leaning his head back. ‘I mean, I’m a bit homesick, I guess.’ He chuckled. ‘I miss my dads, even though they’ve called me every day. And I’ve already watched the Scooby-Doo movie four times. For comfort. But school was hell. I don’t miss school.’
‘Mm.’ Uni wasn’t any better so far. For me, anyway.
‘What?’
‘I like being here,’ I said.
‘At uni?’
‘No, here. With you.’
Jason opened his eyes again and turned to me. He smiled. ‘Me too.’
‘GEORGIA!’ screeched Rooney, stumbling over to us from the dance floor. ‘You’ve found a MAN.’
‘No,’ I said. ‘This is my friend Jason. Remember?’
‘I know who he is,’ she said, crouching down in front of us. ‘I know exactly what’s going on here.’ She pointed a finger at me. ‘You.’ She pointed at Jason. ‘And him.’ She clapped her hands together. ‘Big. Messy. Feelings.’
I just shook my head, and I felt Jason shift a tiny bit away from me while he laughed awkwardly. What was Rooney talking about?
Rooney patted Jason on the shoulder. ‘S’nice. You should just tell Georgia, though.’
Jason didn’t say anything. I checked to see if he knew what Rooney was talking about, but his face didn’t give anything away.
‘I don’t get it,’ I said.
‘You’re very interesting,’ said Rooney to Jason, ‘and very boring at the same time because you never do anything.’
‘I’m going to the loo,’ said Jason, standing up with an expression on his face I only saw on him when he was drunk – deep irritation. But he wasn’t drunk. He was genuinely pissed off. He walked away from us.
‘That was really rude,’ I said to Rooney. I think I was genuinely pissed off too.
‘Are you aware that Jason is into you?’
The words hit me like lightning.
Are you aware that Jason is into you?
Jason. One of my best friends in the entire world. We’d known each other for over four years, we’d hung out more times than I could count, I knew his face as well as my own. We could tell each other anything.
But he hadn’t told me that.
‘What?’ I croaked, my breath gone.
Rooney laughed. ‘Are you joking? His crush on you is so obvious it’s actually painful to watch.’
How was this possible? I was excellent at recognising romantic feelings. I could always tell when people were flirting with me, or each other. I always knew when Pip and Jason had crushes on people.
How had I missed this?
‘He’s a really lovely guy,’ said Rooney, her voice softer, as she sat on the sofa beside me. ‘Have you really not considered him?’
‘I …’ I started to tell Rooney that I didn’t like him like that, but … did I even know what romantic feelings felt like? I thought I’d had a crush on Tommy for seven years and that turned out to be nothing.
Jason was a really lovely guy. I mean, I loved him.
And suddenly the idea was swirling around my brain and I couldn’t stop myself wondering. Maybe this was like all those American romcoms I’d spent my whole teenage life watching; maybe Jason and I were meant to be like the two leads from 13 Going On 30 or Easy A, maybe ‘he’d been there all along’, maybe I just hadn’t tapped into my romantic feelings because I felt so comfortable and safe around Jason and I’d just written him off as ‘best friend’ when in fact he could have been ‘boyfriend’ instead.
Maybe, if I reached out, if I pushed myself – maybe Jason was the love of my life.
‘Wh … what do I do?’ I whispered.
Rooney put her hands back in her pockets. ‘I’m not sure yet. But –’ she stood up, her hair falling around her shoulders like a superhero cape – ‘I think we’re going to be able to solve your little never kissed anyone situation.’
I was woken from a dream that night when Rooney returned to our room. She’d told us to go back to college without her. I couldn’t see her very well without my glasses on, but she seemed to be tiptoeing around like a cartoon character. She flicked the kettle on to make her post-night-out cup of tea, and when she opened her wardrobe, various hangers fell down, making a very loud clatter. She froze and said, ‘Oh no.’
I put my glasses on just in time to see her turn to me with a guilty expression.
‘Sorry,’ she whispered loudly.
‘S’fine,’ I mumbled, croaky from sleep. I checked my phone. 5:21a.m. How. How did any human stay awake, let alone stay out clubbing for that long? I had my late-night 200k fanfic mistakes but that was just sitting in bed reading. ‘Didn’t know anywhere
stayed open this late.’
Rooney chuckled. ‘Oh, no, it doesn’t. I was at this guy’s place.’
I frowned, a little confused. But then I understood. She was at a guy’s place, having sex.
‘Oh,’ I said. ‘Cool.’
I did actually think this was quite cool. I was always a bit envious of people who were super sex-positive and felt comfortable enough to just bang whoever they fancied. I couldn’t even imagine feeling comfortable enough to let someone kiss me, let alone going to an absolute stranger’s home and getting naked.
She shrugged. ‘Wasn’t that great, to be honest. Bit of a letdown. But, you know. Why not! Everyone’s up for it this week.’
I was curious as to what way the guy had been a letdown but felt it might be a bit intrusive to ask.
Rooney then let out a dramatic gasp, swung her body round and whispered, ‘I forgot to water Roderick,’ before quickly filling a mug with water, running over to her house plant, and pouring it into his pot.
‘D’you think …’ I began, but then stopped. Sleepiness was making me want to be honest.
I didn’t like being honest.
‘What?’ she said, having finished tending to Roderick. She walked over to her bed and wrenched her heels off.
‘D’you think I’m immature?’ I asked, bleary-eyed, my brain not fully awake.
‘Why would I think that?’ She started unzipping her jumpsuit.
‘Because I haven’t had sex or kissed anyone or … any of that. And I’m not … getting with guys and … you know.’ Being you. Doing what you do.
She looked at me. ‘Do you think you’re immature?’
‘No. I just think a lot of other people think I am.’
‘Have they told you that?’
I thought back to the prom afterparty.
‘Yeah,’ I said.
Rooney tugged off her jumpsuit and sat down on her bed in just her underwear. ‘That’s horrible.’
‘So … am I?’
Rooney paused. ‘I think it’s pretty amazing that you haven’t felt peer-pressured into doing anything by now. You haven’t made yourself do anything you didn’t want to do. You haven’t kissed anyone just because you’re scared of missing out. I think that’s one of the most mature things I’ve ever heard, actually.’
I closed my eyes and thought about telling her what had happened with Tommy. I’d almost gone through with that.
But when I opened my eyes again, I found her just sitting there on the bed, looking at the photo of her and Mermaid-hair Beth. Beth must have been a really good friend. It was the only photo Rooney had put on the wall.
Then her head whipped round to face me and she said, ‘So are you going to try dating Jason?’
It all came flooding back, and that was all it took.
A suggestion.
Rooney saying, ‘You’ll never know until you try.’
Rooney saying, ‘He’s really cute. Are you sure you don’t like him maybe, like, a little bit? You get along really well.’
Rooney saying, ‘You honestly act like you’re made for each other.’
That was all it took for me to think …
Yeah.
Maybe.
Maybe I could fall in love with Jason.
Durham Student Theatre’s introductory meeting took place four days later – the Tuesday of my second week at university – inside the Assembly Rooms Theatre. Rooney almost had to physically drag me there after I spent the whole weekend in our room, worn out from five days of intense socialising, but I kept reminding myself that I had to do this, I wanted to do this, to put myself out there and have experiences. And Jason and Pip would be there, so it couldn’t be all bad.
The seats were almost completely full already, since a lot of people were interested in being a part of the DST, but me and Rooney spotted Pip sitting alone near the back of the stalls, so we went to join her. I probably should have sat politically in between Rooney and Pip, but Rooney ended up walking into the row of seats ahead of me, leading to a very awkward greeting between them.
Moments later, Jason arrived. He was panting and looked a little bit sweaty.
I wondered whether I should find that attractive in a sort of post-workout way.
‘Is … this seat … taken?’
I shook my head. ‘Nope.’ I paused while he shook his T-shirt away from his chest, and then shrugged off his teddy-bear jacket. ‘Are you OK?’
He nodded. ‘I just ran … all the way from the library … and now I’m dying.’
‘Well, you made it in time.’
‘I know.’ He turned and looked at me properly then, flashing a warm smile. ‘Hello.’
I smiled back. ‘Hi.’
‘So you’re sure about doing this then?’
‘Yep. And even if I wasn’t, I think I’d have been press-ganged into it by these two.’ I pointed towards Rooney and Pip, who were steadfastly ignoring each other.
‘True.’ He crossed one leg over another, then didn’t give me the chance to say anything more before he started rummaging in his rucksack. After a moment, he drew out a family-size open packet of salted popcorn and held it out to me. ‘Popcorn?’
I dug in and scooped up a handful. ‘Salted. You’re a hero.’
‘We must all play our part in this bitch of a world.’
I was about to agree, but then the lights dimmed, as if we were about to watch a real play, and Durham Student Theatre’s first meeting of the year began.
The president’s name was Sadie and she had the brightest, most engaging voice I’d ever heard. She explained the system of DST, which was incredibly complicated, but the fundamental idea was that each society within DST got a certain amount of funding to put on a production of their own, created entirely by the students within that society. Rooney took a lot of notes while Sadie was explaining.
The meeting went on for an hour, and Jason and I sat and shared popcorn the whole time. Was this supposed to mean something? Was this what flirting was? No. No, this was just what friends, did, right? This was just me and Jason being normal.
I thought I got this sort of thing. I understood flirting. But now, when it came to Jason, I had no idea what to think.
When the meeting finally ended, Rooney and Pip went down to join the queue of freshers who had something to ask President Sadie. They walked together but didn’t look at each other.
Jason and I stayed in our seats and we reminisced about some of our funniest youth theatre anecdotes. Hairspray when the music director downloaded a knock-off version of the score and all the songs sounded wrong. Dracula when Pip slipped on some fake blood and tore down the stage curtains. Romeo and Juliet when me and Jason had been painting the set and got stuck on the balcony for two hours because everyone went for dinner and forgot we were there.
Maybe it was the fact that I’d been surrounded by loud theatre people for the past hour.
Maybe it was because I genuinely liked Jason in that way.
Whatever it was, it gave me the confidence to say, ‘Hey, I was thinking … we should … do something.’
He raised his eyebrows, intrigued. ‘Something?’
Oh God. Why was I doing this? How was I doing this? Had I been possessed by the spirit of someone with an actual shred of self-confidence?
‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘I dunno. Go see a movie, or …’ Wait. What fun things did people do on dates? I racked my brain, but all the fanfic I’d read had suddenly deleted itself from my mind. ‘Eat … food.’
Jason stared at me. ‘Georgia, what are you doing?’
‘I just – we could – hang out.’
‘We hang out all the time.’
‘I mean just us.’
‘Why just us?’
There was a pause.
And then he seemed to get it.
His eyes widened. He shifted back from me a little, then forward again.
‘Are you …’ He let out a tiny, disbelieving chuckle. ‘You sound like you’re asking me out, Georgia.�
��
I made a face. ‘Um. Well, yeah.’
Jason said nothing for a moment.
And then he said, ‘Why?’
It was not exactly how I’d expected him to react.
‘I just …’ I paused. ‘I think … I don’t know. I want to. Go out with you. If you also want to.’
He just kept on staring.
‘If you don’t want to, that’s fine. We can just forget about it.’ I could feel my cheeks heating up. Not because Jason was making me particularly flustered, just because I was a disaster and everything I did was a tragic mistake.
‘OK,’ he said. ‘Yeah. Let’s – let’s do it.’
‘Yeah?’
‘Yeah.’
We looked at each other. Jason was an attractive guy, and he was a good person too. He was clearly the sort of person who I should like romantically. Who I could like romantically. He looked like a boyfriend.
I loved his personality. I’d loved his personality for years.
So I could fall in love with him. With a little bit of effort. Definitely.
Jason had to go, to run to a lecture, leaving me a little shell-shocked that I had been able to do what I had just done, but I was soon distracted by the raised voices at the front of the auditorium. Voices that belonged to Rooney and the DST president, Sadie.
There was hardly anyone in the theatre now, so I wandered down to where Rooney and Pip were just in front of the stage with Sadie. Pip was sitting in the front row, watching the conversation – or argument, I wasn’t yet sure – go down.
‘We only have enough funding for one new society this year,’ said Sadie firmly. ‘That’s already been taken by the Mime Society.’
‘Mime Society?’ Rooney spluttered. ‘Are you joking? Since when is mime more important than Shakespeare?’
Sadie gave her a look like she was very, very tired of dealing with people like Rooney. ‘We also don’t appreciate snobbery in the DST.’
‘I’m not being snobby, I just …’ Rooney took a breath, clearly trying not to shout. ‘I just don’t understand why you got rid of the Shakespeare Soc in the first place!’
