To be loved

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To be loved Page 2

by Laura Paddick


  As we walked out of the restaurant after a delicious and relaxing meal, I saw two familiar faces coming our way. It was Chris and Jessica. Yes, Chris the prick and Jessica the popular girl. The last two people on Earth I wanted to bump into that evening. At first, I tried to hide behind Michael and Hannah. It turned out they weren’t as tall and wide as I thought they were. So instead, I turned round, placed my sweatshirt’s hood over my head and took a look at my mobile phone. My ruse worked. Chris and Jessica stepped by me without noticing I was there and I discreetly walked away from the restaurant to catch up with my roommates.

  “Mandy!” shouted Hannah. “What are you doing? …Why have you put your hood on?”

  “Sorry!” I said as I flung it off my head and put my mobile back in my pocket. “I thought I felt a drop of rain!”

  …Which was a stupid thing to say as the sky was cloudless, as it had been all day. I looked back to see if Chris and Jessica were holding hands. They were heading into the restaurant. Chris gallantly held the door for her. Before going inside, he abruptly looked in my direction and smiled at me maliciously. I jumped once again at his unexpected behaviour, and the Bolognese lasagna in my stomach didn’t sit as comfortably as I thought it would. There was no hiding from Chris Downes.

  Chapter 3

  “Sushi!” Michael announced to summon us to the kitchen.

  At last, our order had arrived. We were starving after spending most of our Sunday moving our furniture around. It was about time we turned our kitchen into a real kitchen. Until now, it had been a place to cook but most of all, a place to store everything we didn’t want in our bedrooms and the living room. As a result, our kitchen table was never used because of eleven big containers that were stacked all over it, and we had to hold our breath when we walked through the entrance where heavy boxes were also blocking the way. Tonight, for the very first time, we were eating sushi on our clean empty kitchen table. Hannah, Michael and I got cracking on our food while discussing the next changes we wanted for our apartment. We had been living together since September and we were planning on keeping it that way for another year. We loved our apartment and we loved each other’s company. A perfect home for all of us.

  “There are a few furniture items that we could get rid of in the living room. They take up all the space, especially near the window, don’t you think?” asked Hannah.

  “I agree,” said Michael, “and I’m planning on inviting some friends over for my birthday in a couple of weeks, it could allow most of them to sleep over.”

  “When is your birthday?” I asked him.

  “The twenty-ninth of April. I hope having a party here doesn’t bother you? You are invited of course!” he said in his usual jolly tone.

  Hannah and I smiled at him, then scoffed our sashimi. We were always delighted to be included in his plans.

  “How did the Uni party go?” Hannah asked me.

  “It went well,” I answered briefly.

  “Come on Mandy, you can do better than that! Any gossip?” joked Michael.

  “No… Not really.”

  My roommates noticed I was being shy which wasn’t my usual self, but I was too uncomfortable to tell them about the tent scene, the corridor incident, the strawberry jam accident and Chris’ evil eyes. I felt ashamed of it all and telling them would be admitting I cared about those events. I didn’t want to care, so I pretended Jessica’s party was eventless. I ate another sashimi and changed the conversation.

  “Are you going to invite the painter to your birthday party?” I asked Michael. “You know, the one we met two weeks ago?”

  “Geoffrey?”

  “Yes, he was funny!”

  “I think so.”

  I hoped he would. Geoffrey was presenting an exhibition on the day we met him and we were fascinated by his work. His paintings were a combination of watercolours and caricatures of famous people. They were elegant and witty. The painter was also hilarious. While looking at his artworks, Geoffrey would sneak up behind us and imitate the cartoons’ voices up on the portraits. I could have listened to him for hours!

  “I swear, I almost peed in my pants when Geoffrey did an impression of Elvis Presley!” giggled Hannah.

  “Me too!” I replied.

  Michael spent the rest of the evening pretending to be the king of rock’n’roll; he also enjoyed imitating celebrities. Elvis eating sushi, Elvis brushing his teeth, Elvis on his laptop… Hannah and I were impressed; he was as talented as Geoffrey.

  While I was lying peacefully in bed later that night, my eyes staring at the ceiling, I wondered if I could make my bedroom a little more spacious too. My lifetime problem had always been to get rid of anything. For instance, the containers and boxes that belonged to me in the kitchen were now all stacked up on my desk. They were full of photos, gifts, gizmos, agendas from years before – that I didn’t want to throw away because friends had written lovely notes in them – plates and glasses that we didn’t need, and beauty products I never used. I would have tossed them under my bed or on top of my cupboard, but those spots were already cluttered with shoes, suitcases and gardening tools. (No, we didn’t have a garden. Don’t ask me why I kept those things!) My mobile phone’s ringtone suddenly broke my train of thought. It was Olivia. It was nearly midnight, why on earth was she calling me at that hour? I pressed on the little green button…

  “Hello?”

  “Mandy! Guess what...!” Olivia shouted at the other end.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Chris and Jessica are going out together!”

  I couldn’t say I was surprised but acted as if I was. I could tell Olivia was dying to tell me all about it.

  “Really?”

  “Yes!” she said rapturously. “Jessica just called me!”

  “Good to know,” I answered, indifferent.

  “Chris took her out last night!”

  Nothing new.

  “Jessica also spoke about you on the phone,” Olivia added.

  “About me?” I checked, confused. “Why?”

  “Apparently, Chris told her you would be jealous!”

  I jumped out of bed and yelled into the speaker.

  “WHAT?”

  Chapter 4

  I had never been so furious in my life. Except, maybe, when my older sister broke our mum’s favourite teapot and put the blame on me. I didn’t even know that the teapot had smashed to the ground when my mum told me off. It was so unfair; I was grounded for a whole month! When I was fourteen, I couldn’t wait to leave home already.

  When I found out about Chris’ lie, I lost it. My face became as red as a ripe tomato. On Monday morning, I stood in front of the classroom door, ready to give him a mouthful as soon as he arrived. Tommy – or Mister Smarty Pants as some would call him – turned up first, just like every day. Then came a couple of students that I never got round to talking to because they always stuck together and never spoke to anyone outside their group. Then came the teacher. Thankfully we never had an Economics lesson on a Monday; grumpy Mr Hutchins would certainly ruin the beginning of our week if it was the case. That morning, it was Marketing with Mrs Auteberry. She was kind but had a squeaky voice, as if it had never matured since her childhood. Then all the other third-year students arrived: Jim, Marsha, Nolan, Duncan, Kelly, Graham, Pauline, Frank, Helen, and of course, Olivia. Just before the lesson started, Jessica and Chris finally turned up at the door. They were holding hands.

  “Can I have a word with Chris, please?” I asked Jessica.

  She nodded then kissed him lustfully. Sensually. Erotically. Obscenely. Licentious-libidinously. To sum up, it was an X-rated kiss. It was far too much. Lucky for me, I wasn’t jealous. Jessica caught up with the rest of the class and I was free to give Chris a piece of my mind.

  “You have some nerve telling her such a lie!” I started to say. “What’s wrong with you?”

  Chris looked at me, smiling like an idiot.

  “Wipe that grin off y
our face!” I said. “This isn’t funny! Why did you tell her I would be jealous of your relationship?”

  “Amanda… May I call you Mandy?” he asked.

  “No, Mandy is for friends. You are not a friend,” I answered.

  “Mandy…” he said.

  “I said no! Call me Amanda!”

  “Mandy, why do you think you are getting so upset?”

  “I am furious at you! I hate you!”

  “There is a thin line between love and hate,” he said, and winked provocatively.

  “You are awfully sure of yourself for someone who got rejected at the foot of my tent!” I said, proudly.

  “That wasn’t because you didn’t want me to come in, it was because you are a prude.”

  The spoilt immature brat was driving me crazy!

  “Mr Downes, Miss Bell, we are waiting for you!” shouted Mrs Auteberry from the classroom.

  I took a deep breath and looked at Chris with a straight face.

  “Leave me alone,” I said gravely. “No more lies.”

  I walked into the room and sat beside Olivia. Chris was right behind me, next to Jessica. The lesson started off with a case study, which was usually my favourite exercise. There was nothing more stimulating than a real business problem to analyse and to resolve thanks to the management skills we had learnt. But it was a struggle for me to concentrate that morning after such an annoying conversation.

  So, I thought, their online marketing has failed, they are losing customers and… and… their online marketing needs… I mean, customers want… So, their online website… Oh god! I read the problem over and over; it seemed to get more and more confusing. Twenty minutes had passed and Olivia had already found thirteen solutions. I hadn’t written one word on my sheet of paper. Not one explanation, one quick fix or result. Nothing.

  “Well,” said Mrs Auteberry as she glanced at my desk while walking through the aisles, “what’s troubling you, Miss Bell? It’s a basic problem, no traps.”

  “My head’s not quite with it today,” I told her.

  “Better get cracking!” she replied in her high-pitched voice. “You still have ten minutes left to solve it.”

  I gave her a polite smile, then read the case for the fifteenth time. A small ball of paper suddenly flew over my shoulder and landed on my desk. I sighed, guessing it was Chris picking on me again. I opened the crinkled piece of paper and read the little note.

  Stay away from Chris.

  Jess

  Great, now she was having a go too. How on earth did I get myself caught up in this? I tore a little sheet of paper and sent it back over my shoulder, having written a short and straightforward message on it:

  Not interested! I hate him.

  Chapter 5

  “You may not be jealous, but I am,” joked Olivia.

  We grabbed a couple of sandwiches from the university’s shop at lunchtime and found a spot in the campus park. In front of us was a small football field, where the green artificial turf was shining in the sunlight. A couple of students were getting ready to start a game. It was still astonishingly hot, so I bet Olivia that they wouldn’t last more than ten minutes out in the sun.

  “You’re on!” she said. “The loser will pay for the entire lunch!”

  The match started. It seemed to be some second-year students against some third-years. I recognised Nolan, Kelly and Graham from our class. Tommy also joined in but he looked like he was afraid of the ball more than anything else. As soon as he got it, he kicked it away to anyone, even to the opposite team. I glanced at my watch.

  “Seven minutes left!”

  “I bet they can last at least twenty minutes out there,” Olivia expected without a slight shadow of doubt. “When you’re playing, you’re concentrating too much on the ball to notice the heat.”

  “Aren’t you going to eat that?” I asked her.

  Her sandwich was still sitting in her bag. Mine was practically entirely scoffed!

  “Not yet, maybe later.”

  I had picked a tuna, salad and tomato sandwich, and she had chosen a plain ham and cheese one. With that, we both got an orange juice and a packet of shortbreads.

  “I think we are getting our asses kicked by the second-years…” said Olivia.

  I looked up and saw our class mates struggle to get the ball. Nolan tackled a student that had the body of a rugby player, then the ball landed right in front of a girl that had fluorescent sport shoes. They almost blinded me just by looking at them. Kelly ran fast to catch up with her but she tripped and missed her opportunity. At last, Graham, the tallest guy of our year, caught up with the second-year and finally got the ball back on our team. He took a step backwards, then powerfully kicked it towards Tommy who, unfortunately, was looking the other way. The ball hit him right on the bum, which woke him up from his distractions. Two things you should know about Graham: he was very tall and a bad loser. He couldn’t forgive Tommy for being so absent-minded during the game and screamed at him to get off the pitch. By that time, I had finished my sandwich and was drinking my orange juice.

  “Three minutes left!” I told Olivia. “They are probably going to stop the game now as the teams are uneven.”

  “No! Look!” she shouted.

  I spat my drink out as I saw Chris, topless, running onto the pitch.

  “Not him!” I said with despair.

  “Look at his chest…” noticed Olivia, completely turned on.

  I lost my bet because of that lying, annoying prick! The match lasted thirty minutes more in the beaming sun, probably because of his stupid biceps! I ate the entire packet of shortbreads to calm my nerves.

  ***

  “Mandy, great! You’ll be able to help us…” said Hannah as soon as I entered our apartment at the end of the day.

  I walked into the living room to find they had already gotten rid of the big table that was in front of the window and a couple of cushions which had been collecting dust for months.

  “Should we get rid of this cupboard? I think it should stay but Michael thinks otherwise,” explained Hannah.

  “We don’t use half of what’s in this big heavy thing!” added Michael.

  I stood in the doorway and analysed it from where I was. I was as committed to their problem as to the case study in Mrs Auteberry’s marketing class. My head was all over the place, thinking about what jealousy meant, about Chris’ irritating attitude and about his wonderful biceps.

  “So?” asked Michael.

  Maybe I could find a way to prove to Chris that I’m not jealous, I thought to myself. I need to hang out with more boys at Uni.

  “Mandy?” called out Hannah.

  “Oh, sorry guys,” I flustered, “I think that…we should…get rid of the cupboard.”

  “Yes!” Michael shouted with his fist up in the air as if he had won the lottery. “Let’s get everything out of here!”

  “Don’t you have class tonight?” I asked my roommates. “I don’t usually see you around at this hour.”

  “We have a dissertation to write about Van Gogh’s work in the three final years of his life for next week,” said Hannah.

  “I see you are working hard on it…” I teased with a complacent grin.

  “Cheeky!” said Michael.

  My roommates were serious about their studies but I admired how they always took their homework lightly. Although I loved studying Marketing, it was sometimes tempting to take on an Art degree like they did. It was fun to see them struggle to walk through the front door with their huge artworks. They made sculptures, paintings, advertisements and illustrations. For the time being though, the outings with them to artists’ exhibitions satisfied my curiosity on the matter.

  While I was getting dinner ready, I was determined to get to the bottom of the definition of jealousy. After peeling the potatoes, I came to the conclusion that I wasn’t jealous and that Chris was just playing with my mind. After all, I was not afraid of losing our relationship a
s we never had one, not even a friendship; I didn’t fear betrayal or rivalry seeing that I was happy Jessica was going out with him; and I had no desire for him to be part of my life. Nope, not a slight bit of jealousy in my bones. This conclusion made me feel confident for the following days at university.

  Chapter 6

  “What about this little blue radio?” I asked Hannah while we were wandering down the High-Tech section of the biggest mall in town.

  “Oh no! Too simple! We need something much more memorable,” she answered.

  Our goal for the day was to find the perfect birthday present for Michael. I kept coming up with ideas but they were never good enough for Hannah. “We need to find something unforgettable,” she kept saying. In the meantime, my legs were aching and my stomach was making strange growling noises. We had been searching for this imaginary amazing gift all morning and we were still looking – hopelessly on my part. With a desperate look on my face, I proposed to take a break and get something to eat. We did so, but we had to walk all the way back to the main entrance to find the bakery we wanted. It took us thirty minutes to finally have a bagel, a drink and some fruit on our laps. We sat on a little bench we had found along the mall’s hallways, just like all the other hungry customers on a busy Saturday lunchtime.

  “What about getting him some extra art accessories? Watercolours, pastels, materials… They will always come in handy,” I suggested.

  “No, Michael has everything he needs, and that’s not an original gift,” moaned Hannah.

 

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