You're the One That I Want

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You're the One That I Want Page 4

by Giovanna Fletcher


  ‘Go on, then,’ I said to them both, pointing towards the giant feat, feeling pleased with myself for thinking up such a great plan. ‘I dare you.’

  ‘What?’ shrieked Ben, laughing at the ridiculousness of what I’d suggested, shaking his head so vigorously that his cheeks wobbled. ‘No chance.’

  ‘Why not?’ I demanded.

  ‘Because!’

  ‘That’s not a proper answer,’ I said.

  ‘It’s dinner time. We have to get back,’ he replied, his voice becoming shrill with panic.

  ‘Don’t be such a wimp.’

  ‘I’m not being a wimp.’

  ‘You are,’ I goaded.

  ‘I’m not!’

  ‘Are.’

  ‘Not.’

  ‘Are!’

  ‘Not!’

  ‘I’ll do it,’ Robert said calmly, breaking in on our bickering, causing Ben and I to whip our heads round to face him.

  ‘Really?’ Ben asked, clearly as shocked as I was by his bravery. Or stupidity.

  ‘Of course,’ he shrugged, as though it was nothing.

  I was impressed, although sure he’d change his mind as we made our way closer to the Big Green; after all, the nearer we got, the more of a monster it became. Just standing beneath it and looking up at its expansiveness was enough to make me nervous and dizzy, even though I wasn’t the one about to climb it. There’s no questioning the fact that Robert was the most confident of the three of us – that was something we’d always been aware of – but surely even he had his limits! I’d expected the pair of them to quake at the very thought of it – not for one of them to give it a go!

  ‘You sure?’ I gulped.

  ‘Yep,’ he barked, without the slightest quiver in his voice.

  And off he went, up the tree, hugging it as he pulled himself higher and higher. His legs and arms were strong as he scrambled up to near where its branches began to poke out.

  Ben and I stood below, gawping at him as he kept going higher and higher, inch by inch.

  ‘Whoa!’ I muttered.

  ‘I know,’ he whispered.

  Within seconds that wonder turned into panic. Maybe it was because he was getting cocky from our admiration and trying to show off, making him less careful, or perhaps the challenge was simply too great for him after all.

  Somehow Robert’s left foot slipped, the rubber of his Hi-tech trainers grinding along the bark to make a terrifying scraping sound as it did so. He tried, with a giant reach, to grasp hold of the tree, of its branches, of anything he could, but failed. Instead, his hands grabbed at the air as he fell backwards, legs and arms flailing around helplessly, before landing on the ground next to us with a thud and an almighty crack. He writhed in pain, clutching hold of his thigh, his face distorted with agony.

  ‘Argh!’ he screamed.

  Ben rushed to his side first and knelt down beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder to comfort him. Once the shock allowed me to move again I joined him, taking hold of one of Robert’s hands. It was the only thing I could think of that might soothe him in some way. He gripped it tightly. So tightly it caused me to clench my jaw to steady myself.

  ‘Rob, you okay?’ Ben asked. ‘Where does it hurt?’

  ‘My leg!’ he yelped, the torturous pain causing him to roll from side to side on his back.

  Looking at his leg we could clearly see he’d broken it. A bone was sticking out in a grotesque manner. I couldn’t help but wince at the sight of it.

  I looked up at Ben as panic started to rise within me. Surprisingly, for the boy who was eager to be led rather than followed, he looked calm and composed as he took control and decided what we had to do.

  ‘You stay here. I’ll go to get help,’ he said, looking from me to our injured friend, firmly gripping him on the shoulder. ‘I won’t be long, Robbie.’

  ‘Quick!’ he screamed, before inhaling sharply between his teeth.

  ‘You gonna be okay?’ Ben asked me, getting to his feet and grabbing for my hand, which he squeezed three times as though he was pumping courage and strength through his touch.

  I nodded and watched as he turned away from me and sprinted across the park. My heart ached as I looked down at Robert and saw his face scrunched up as he battled with the pain, groaning as he held on to my hand a little tighter, his breathing becoming erratic and forced.

  ‘Shh …’ I breathed, trying to keep myself from bursting into tears as I attempted to comfort him. Not only was I horrified at seeing my best friend in such pain, and lost over how to help him, but I also felt enormously guilty. I was the one who’d sent him up that ridiculous tree, after all. I’d only wanted to show them that we all had limitations and that I shouldn’t have been given such a hard time for my own. I hadn’t expected Robert to climb it and I certainly didn’t think he’d break something as a result.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ I sobbed eventually, after watching his suffering for a few minutes, unable to keep in my shame any longer. Robert was the strong one of the three of us, and I’d reduced him to a vulnerable mess with my stupidity.

  ‘What are you crying for, you loser?’ he croaked.

  ‘Because it’s my fault.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I told you to go up there. This wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t done that …’

  ‘Don’t be such a girl, Maddy,’ he groaned, flinching in pain as laughter trickled out of him.

  I stopped crying and just stared at him open mouthed, wondering how he could possibly use that line on me when he was in such a state himself.

  ‘Me being a girl? What about you?’ I teased, giving his shoulder a gentle shove.

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘If Daniella saw you now she’d think you were the biggest girl she’s ever seen,’ I continued. ‘I mean, she’d probably dump you on the spot,’ I shrugged.

  ‘Maddy …’

  ‘What? At least I am a girl! What’s your excuse?’

  ‘Really? You’re choosing this moment to verbally abuse me?’

  ‘You started it.’

  ‘I fell out of a tree and broke my leg,’ he said incredulously, his face still twisted in agony at the pain. ‘Please, just … be nice!’ he exhaled.

  He laughed then. Laughed so hysterically that I couldn’t tell if he was laughing or crying for a moment or two. Perhaps it was a mixture of both as they battled against each other, but the laughter eventually won. His chuckle filled the air around us as he leaned back and closed his eyes, bringing his free hand up to cover his crinkled face.

  Looking at him, at the ridiculousness of the situation, at our bickering, I couldn’t help but dissolve into a fit of giggles myself. My body doubled over, causing my forehead to gently rest on Rob’s chest before I rolled off on to my back. With our heads and shoulders touching, and hands still gripping hold of each other, we laughed uncontrollably side by side as our cackles drifted skywards and entwined into the leaves of the Big Green.

  It was a perfect moment, born from something horrific and shocking, that briefly brought us closer than we’d ever ventured before.

  By the time Ben came back with Robert’s dad, we had tears streaming down our faces and couldn’t stop smiling. Ben looked at us not only as though we’d gone mad, but also with a bemused sadness, as though he was troubled to be left out of whatever was going on. He quizzed us both eagerly, asked what we were laughing about, but his confused face, and the fact that we were effectively being giddy over nothing, made me laugh harder – so hard that my body convulsed once more with laughter, moving me on to my side so that my mouth was nuzzled into Rob’s neck, as I tried to calm myself down.

  It was when Robert’s dad started to inspect his injury that he yelped out in pain again, stopping the moment in its tracks and sobering us instantly.

  A quick dash to the hospital told us that, as predicted, Robert’s leg was broken. Thanks to me, he spent the first few weeks of life in year eleven on crutches with a massive bright orange cast on his wounded leg – w
hich we all signed and put rude messages on. He might have been temporarily disabled, but he rarely complained. That’s mainly because it guaranteed him ample attention from everyone – the football team who missed him, the girls who cooed after him like he was a poorly puppy and the teachers who gave him preferential treatment. He got out of lessons early to avoid getting crushed by the crowds in the crammed corridors and was granted access to the front of the dinner queue … Well, as far as silver linings go, his wasn’t bad.

  The only thing it didn’t help was his relationship with Daniella. She’d started going ice-skating every Saturday with her mates. Rob couldn’t exactly go along and, as a result, she met Russell. He was one of those more capable skaters who rushed around the ring as though he was about to knock everyone over with his menacing speed, putting the fear of God into all the nervous skaters on the ice. Evidently Daniella liked that sort of thing.

  She dumped Robert by text.

  Nice.

  That had been my first experience of Robert having a girlfriend, and I hadn’t liked it one bit – especially after the incident under the tree. I teased him about his relationship and jibed him for being ‘under the thumb’ whenever her name popped up in conversation. That probably makes me sound like a spoilt brat, longing for his attention, but I just had this urge to get under his skin on the topic and to make sure I wasn’t being forgotten about.

  With much guilt (although I don’t think it’s a surprising confession), I’ll admit that I was relieved Robert was no longer spending hours at his computer sending Daniella soppy messages. Being dumped hadn’t fazed him at all – he was as funny, witty and charming as ever.

  I was thrilled to have him back!

  Ben

  Sixteen years old …

  Robert’s new-found single status meant that he was back with me and Maddy once more. I was chuffed to have him with us again, obviously, but it meant I wasn’t getting as much alone time with Maddy as I had since the start of the autumn term – and I can’t hide the fact that I’d been enjoying it. I’ll even admit that I felt deflated somehow at having to ‘share’ her again. It was the first time I’d become what can only be described as possessive over her.

  Being a three again led me to feel a bit paranoid, and that irritating feeling had started to creep in even before Rob got dumped. The day he fell and broke his leg, I’d left a shaken Maddy and pain-stricken Robert beneath that tree to go and get help. I thought I was being heroic … taking control and being the leader for once. But when I got back, I was taken aback to find them wrapped up in each other looking like they hadn’t a care in the world – laughing and taking pleasure in each other’s silliness. I felt like I was intruding on something, and that was an unfamiliar and uncomfortable sensation.

  If it weren’t for the bone visibly protruding from his leg, I’d have thought I’d dreamed Robert falling and needing my help.

  It irked me, even though I told myself it was nothing, reasoned with myself that Robert was with Daniella and didn’t see Maddy in the same way that I did.

  I was being hypersensitive … a douchebag! Still, it took a while for those feelings to simmer down and disappear and for me to feel like everything was normal between the three of us – between the two of them.

  That summer changed my outlook on my own feelings, and not just because of the way I’d found them underneath the Big Green. I’d been to see Pearl Harbour at the cinema (I’d taken my mum out for her birthday), and was left feeling as though my heart had been ripped out. It might sound pathetic, but the message was clear – seize the day, love like there’s no tomorrow and declare your feelings before it’s too late. That’s how I’d come to realize that I could no longer bottle things inside. What, I wondered, was I trying to prove by living in the torturous barricade of my own heart? I’d let myself be tormented by what I hadn’t said, rather than what I had … paranoid about what others might be feeling, rather than just asking outright. Yes, I’d decided to take control, to put my feelings out there to be reciprocated or rebuffed. Either way, something was better than nothing.

  With a trip planned in year eleven to the most romantic city in the world, I decided to bite my tongue a little longer. It was only a few months, I told myself, and I wanted the moment I finally decided to lift my silence and speak up to be memorable. And so, for months I thought of nothing but Paris. Vivid images filled my mind – of us together at the top of the Eiffel Tower, surrounded by the romantic view, and the look of adoration on Maddy’s face as I opened my mouth to utter my love confession. It fuelled my sleepless nights that summer and gave me a giddy feeling of excitement in my gut.

  It felt as though Paris had become, in many ways, the pinnacle of my very existence. Nights were spent ploughing through information on the web to formulate my plan, hours were spent with a pen and paper writing out what I was going to say when the moment of truth finally came. It was as though years of wonder and desire had led me to that point and to that precise spot I needed to reach at the top of the Eiffel Tower. I wanted, more than anything, for it to go right. It had to be perfect.

  Maddy

  Sixteen years old …

  The best thing about taking Art as a GCSE was that you got to go on an art trip to Paris in year eleven. A week away from parents, exam stress and school work, traipsing around the millions of museums and eating trillions of crêpes and macaroons, understandably sounded very tempting. And that was why the three of us all decided to take up art when it came to filling out our options for the years ahead – yes, we all sat down and had a big chat about certain subjects we should all go for so that we’d get time together. Along with our compulsory subjects, we all opted for French over Spanish, Art over Drama, and History over Religious Education. I however went for Food, while Robert went for Physical Education and Ben went for Graphic Design – something he was insanely good at. Our plans did backfire a little bit when it turned out that each year group was separated into new class sets for the mandatory core subjects as well as those we’d optioned, but we found ourselves together in Art, and at least we all got most of the same homework to plough through together.

  In the weeks leading up to that art trip I felt an endless wave of apprehension. No, I wasn’t worried about being stranded in the capital (that would have simply been an adventure) and I wasn’t worried I’d get homesick (I couldn’t wait to get out of the house) … Nope, I was nervous because of a feeling that had been brewing inside during the previous months. Those feelings had nothing to do with Paris, but everything to do with Robert. A fact I was struggling to comprehend.

  As a result of that afternoon underneath the Big Green, I was drawn to him like a piece of flimsy metal to a powerful magnet – there was no way of avoiding its strength. No way to resist. That unspeakable energy tingled away beneath the surface, giving me a surge of something unidentifiable every time I thought of him. It felt like we were on the cusp of a momentous change, but I wasn’t sure how I felt about it.

  Robert treated me as he always had – like one of the boys he could have a laugh with, or, at times, a little sister he was fiercely over-protective of. He was always draping an arm over my shoulder, or gently mocking me for something I’d said or done. It was how we’d always been. So, was I the only one looking further into every touch shared? Every gaze he placed in my direction? Embarrassingly, it seemed so.

  Robert’s enchanting ways (which had naturally transpired from his confident role as our group’s leader) continued to capture more girls’ hearts than ever. He’d always been a charmer (his flirty and confident ways had been buried deep within his gorgeous exterior), but seeing him tease or fool around with any other girl after that moment under the tree was excruciating. Each suggestive glance, wink and mutter that he flung in another girl’s direction stung my teenage heart – a fact that confused me beyond belief. Then there was the gossip that lingered around him – girls speculating over who he’d end up snogging while we were away. For obvious reasons I was never even sugge
sted, but for once, that omission left me feeling jealous. Envious not to be seen as having a chance …

  Of course I knew what those alien emotions meant, but I also knew that I wasn’t going to be the one to act on them. I wasn’t going to show Robert that I’d succumbed to his charms and found myself plonked in the middle of his fan club with tens of other girls. Oh yes, he really did have a fan club. The girls in our year, in fact our whole school, swooned over him relentlessly – more so when he’d broken his leg! Huddles of girls would frantically walk around the school to find him on his lunch break, they’d giggle as he passed them on the stairway, dribble at the smallest glimpse of him in the corridor, and if there was ever any accidental body contact, like arms brushing as he walked past, there’d be a near-fainting situation … It was mind-boggling and quite sickening to watch, but Robert loved the attention from his adoring fans and often played up to them, much to their delight. Due to their lovesick nature, his admirers continuously treated me with caution – I was, after all, a girl with unlimited access to Robert. It was something they could only dream of. I wasn’t too bothered by their occasional evil glances. In fact, I found the whole thing funny. Yes, I knew Robert up close and personal – but that didn’t just mean I got to see his handsome (there’s no disputing his good looks) face on a regular basis behind closed doors, but I also got to see him scratching his arse, popping his hand down between his boxers and trousers for a quick squeeze (as though to check his bits were still intact) and a million other little idiosyncrasies that would leave other’s minds boggled. The Robert they saw, the charming, suave and well-groomed prince, was a tad different to my grubby friend Rob – and I loved it that way.

  I had a secret piece of him.

  Did I really want to give up that piece and turn into every other girl looking at him through rose-tinted glasses? Sadly, it seemed it was way out of my control. That’s what led me to be full of nervousness about going to Paris. If something was going to happen between us, then it was sure to occur there when we were cocooned in a bubble of holiday abandon. Right?

 

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