You're the One That I Want

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You're the One That I Want Page 10

by Giovanna Fletcher


  Dating someone who’d seen me at my worst, and who I’d seen at her worst, was a whole new experience for us both. We couldn’t lie and pretend to be perfect like some couples do in those early days. We knew each other inside out. It changed things between us drastically, as you’d expect. There was no way I could pretend Maddy was one of the boys any more. Well, I certainly wasn’t treating her like one of the boys any more, that’s for sure. Something I’d like to apologize to our fellow tripod member, Ben, for. There were certainly a few moments in our younger years where Ben copped a load of something he shouldn’t have.

  Maddy

  Eighteen years old …

  Ben and Kelly’s relationship didn’t last long. Well, they fooled around together for nine months before she left to go to college – but as we all stayed at Peaswood High in the sixth form to do our A-levels, their relationship came to an amicable resolve. But just because Ben and Kelly didn’t last, it didn’t mean that Ben was back to being on his own with us and looking like a tag-along. Kelly had given him a new-found confidence with the ladies, and so had losing his puppy fat. He’d become effortlessly slender and the way he Brylcreemed his hair back made him look like a Mediterranean Superman with his olive skin and dark eyes. He was popular, but he wasn’t a womanizer – he didn’t treated anyone badly or just use them for sex, it’s simply that he was never short of female company. Years of being the perfect listener to many of the girls in our year, added to the fact that he’d grown some self-belief and learned how to flirt, had given him a tantalizing charm – made all the greater by the fact that he didn’t realize what a catch he was.

  I asked Robert if he was envious of him once.

  ‘Why would I be?’ he’d asked innocently.

  ‘Because he gets to be with all these girls while you’re stuck with me, that’s why.’

  ‘It’s never even crossed my mind,’ he muttered, pulling me into his chest and kissing the top of my head.

  I had no doubt that Robert was happy with me, but the fact that their roles had almost been reversed must have had some sort of impact on him, even if he didn’t want to admit it. After all, Ben, with his many admirers and string of dates, was leading the life all three of us would have predicted Robert, with his cheeky ways and army of fans, would have had, if it weren’t for our relationship.

  ‘You know what’s funny?’ he said into my hair.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I don’t miss it at all.’

  ‘Being popular?’

  ‘Ha!’ he spat, pulling me closer and tickling me until I begged him to stop. ‘It never meant anything to me, but you? Now, you mean the world to me.’

  And just like that, my strong, loving, thoughtful boyfriend eradicated my fears … well, at least for the time being.

  We’d come to the end of school life and our university days were looming around the corner, ready to take us on the next big journey of our lives. There was a huge chance that the three of us would end up at different places around the country, a fact we’d decided not to worry too much about until our results were collected and offers accepted – but the wait was agonizing, even if we didn’t admit it.

  We all had different universities down as our top choices, having decided to focus on different subjects. It meant that, if we all got the grades we’d been predicted, our friendship group would be separated for the first time in nine years. Robert, who had taken PE, Biology and English Language A levels, was hoping to go to Nottingham Trent to study Sport and Exercise Science. Ben, who’d taken Graphic Design, Art and English Language, was hoping to go up north to Northumbria to study Graphic Design. And I, having studied Art, English Literature and Psychology, wanted to go to Bristol and study Photography. If everything went to plan we’d be miles apart. It was a sobering thought.

  A fry-up was the only way to start results day. Our grades, and our future fate, wouldn’t be accessible until ten o’clock and, seeing as we knew we’d all be up anxiously pacing around our homes, we figured getting together would keep our brains occupied. A sombre mood filled the kitchen in my house as we cooked in silence. Each of us lost in our own thoughts.

  ‘How are we all feeling?’ I asked, once we were seated and had started tucking in to our bacon, sausages, eggs, beans and toast.

  Two shrugs were given as answers. It was a gesture I was used to receiving, but on that particular day I’d expected more from them.

  ‘I’m the only one crapping myself, then?’ I huffed.

  ‘Mad, there’s no point worrying until we know what we’re worrying about,’ said Ben with an appeasing smile.

  ‘Well said,’ nodded Robert, although I could see the worry in his face, highlighted by the frown on his brow. Robert needed to get the highest marks of our group to get onto his chosen course – two As and one B. I knew he was feeling the pressure, even if he wanted to pretend that he was laid-back about the whole thing.

  ‘Where are we going tonight, then?’ asked Ben, changing the subject to something more jovial.

  ‘Tonight? I think we should start straight away,’ Robert laughed, pulling three miniature bottles of Jack Daniels from his pocket and handing one to each of us. ‘To the tripod,’ he toasted, unscrewing the lid of his bottle and thrusting it in the air.

  ‘To the tripod,’ Ben and I repeated, giggling as we knocked them back.

  The school was in chaos when we arrived, with people running around screaming in delight or crying in despair – their future fate decided. It caused a lump of nerves to form in my throat as we strolled to reception and picked up the awaiting white envelopes.

  ‘Should we go somewhere quiet?’ asked Robert. ‘Away from everyone?’

  ‘Over here,’ I gestured, leading us away from the crowds and into an empty classroom.

  ‘Here goes,’ sighed Robert.

  ‘Moment of truth,’ I laughed weakly.

  ‘On the count of three …?’ suggested Ben, to which we nodded. ‘One, two, three …’

  We all hastily opened our envelopes, and took out the result papers, taking time to understand the meaning of them before any reactions were given.

  ‘Three fucking As!’ screamed Robert, fist pumping the air.

  ‘One A and two Bs!’ I squealed – it was more than I needed to get into Bristol. I threw myself on Robert in excitement, thrilled that everything was on track for us both.

  But one of us wasn’t celebrating. I turned to face Ben to see that he was still staring at his paper, looking disappointed.

  ‘You all right, mate?’ asked Robert, clamping a hand on his shoulder. ‘How did you do?’

  He looked up and shook his head.

  Ben had needed to get an A and two Bs to get into Northumbria, but instead he’d got three Bs.

  ‘Fuck!’ offered Robert.

  ‘What are you going to do?’

  ‘I’ll phone up and see about clearing, I guess, but …’

  ‘There’s a “but”, that’s good!’ encouraged Robert.

  ‘Well, it’s good enough for my second choice …’ he said looking at me with an apprehensive smile. ‘Bristol.’

  ‘Ahhhh!’ I screamed, running in for a hug. ‘Please come with me! Please!’

  ‘I might not have a choice,’ he laughed, trying to struggle away from me.

  ‘Oh great, so now I’m the only one who’s going to be on my own. I’ll be a loner!’ moaned Robert.

  ‘Oh, people will love you,’ I giggled. ‘You’ll be the popular kid as usual!’

  ‘You won’t have us two geeks dragging you down,’ offered Ben.

  ‘Well, when you put it like that,’ he chuckled, putting an arm around each of us. ‘I’ll try not to have too much fun without you guys.’

  Leaving Peaswood High behind us, we wandered down to the local park – the same park that lent me, Robert and Ben its trees to climb and play on when we were younger. We spent the majority of the afternoon in the sunshine, along with most of the upper sixth. We sat in several circles (with the majorit
y of people sticking with their friends – even at the end people refrained from socializing too much with other peer groups), and drank our way through copious amounts of wine and beer while listening to indie music. Bands like the Kooks, the Zutons and Kaiser Chiefs pumped from a portable stereo like we were at a mini music festival. Whether people had received good news or bad regarding their future, we were united in saying goodbye to the school that had been our home for the last seven years. Freedom and new beginnings were ahead of us – the world was our oyster. I can remember looking around at one point, seeing the sunshine beam down on everyone laughing and singing, and feeling like I’d entered a euphoric state. It felt warm, weightless and hippy-like.

  Those feelings stayed with us over the summer months before we headed off to university, endless summer evenings drifting by with ease. The daytimes were a different matter. With three months to kill there was no way our mums would have let us bum around aimlessly; we were forced to go into Tamsgate, our nearest town, and get jobs. I wound up in a department store called Magpies in the home department (relentlessly refolding towels all day long and sighing with frustration every time a customer carelessly came and messed them up), while Robert and Ben were both at Spin – a cool music shop– having a whale of a time. It was possibly one of the only times in our whole friendship that I felt left out and jealous, but seeing as Robert was going to have to put up with me and Ben being together for the next three years, I kept my petty grumbling thoughts to myself.

  The plus side to them working in Spin was that they got me a massive discount on any CDs or DVDs that I wanted. We’d all started driving that year and nothing beat the feeling of cruising along (let’s face it, we’d drive even when there was nowhere to go) with our windows down as great music pumped from the stereo. Thanks to the boys all of our cars were filled with current albums.

  In return I got us all a load of sheets and towels, which might sound pretty lame, but it came in really handy when we were getting ready for our new lives in student halls …

  Ben

  Eighteen years old …

  On my eighteenth birthday Robert found me perched in my treehouse at the bottom of my garden. I’d been sat in that spot for at least an hour and was in a grumpy, contemplative mood as I stared at an old photo of my dad and me together on my ninth birthday, taken after he’d led me outside into the garden to see his gift for me – that treehouse, built from scratch with his own bare hands. In that vintage and rare photo, my arms are wrapped around his neck with glee, excited that I had a cool den to play in. He’s laughing at my reaction with his eyes closed, a lovely image of a dad getting a hug from his grateful child. There wasn’t even a hint of the trauma that was to come just five months later. Perhaps leaving us wasn’t even on his mind at that point.

  ‘Happy birthday, mate,’ Rob grinned at me as he popped his head up through the floor of my wooden house and pulled himself inside.

  I said nothing but tried my best to return the cheeky expression he was wearing. I clearly wasn’t very good at it, though – he frowned at me straight away, sensing something wasn’t quite right.

  ‘What’s up?’ he asked, crouching his body in two as he made his way through the small structure to my side – it was a tight squeeze now we were on the verge of adulthood. ‘Oh,’ he pouted as he caught a glimpse of the picture I was holding.

  ‘Yeah …’ I nodded dejectedly.

  Robert sighed and sat down next to me.

  ‘Why doesn’t he want anything to do with me?’

  ‘Maybe he does …’ Rob shrugged feebly.

  ‘Dude, he knows where I live – it’s the same place he tucked me into bed for almost ten years before he fucked off with some other family. He’s got a replacement son and can’t be arsed keeping in touch with his own blood. It doesn’t bother him that I’m the product of his one singular winning sperm.’

  ‘Eurgh!’ chuckled Robert, giving me a gentle nudge.

  ‘I can’t get my head around the fact that he’s never been in touch,’ I exhaled. ‘Even today? All those birthdays he’s missed out on over the years, but today stings the most. It’s a special one.’

  ‘I get that.’

  ‘In theory, from this point forward, I’m an adult. He missed most of me being a kid, and now it looks like he’s going to miss the rest of my life along with it.’

  My words lingered in the silence that fell upon us.

  ‘So what?’ he asked, matter-of-factly.

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘You have a great life. You’re surrounded by people who love you, you’ve got a wicked relationship with your mum and you’re fucking talented. So why care about someone who hasn’t taken the time to realize how awesome you are?’

  I looked at the picture in my hands and said nothing, instead concentrating on nibbling at a tiny bit of loose skin on my bottom lip. It wasn’t quite the reaction I’d been expecting from Robert – it was far more diplomatic than the bashing of my dad’s crummy morals that I was after.

  ‘Is someone who could walk out on you when you were just a kid really worth pining over? Is he really worth the energy or effort?’

  ‘I wish it was that simple.’

  ‘Maybe it can be,’ he shrugged, turning to me with wide green eyes.

  ‘But not having him makes me feel trapped and desperate,’ I confessed, feeling defeated at having to share my niggling thoughts. ‘Some days I come up here and I feel like that little nine-year-old all over again, wanting him to come back and apologize, to tell me and Mum he still loves us … I know it sounds ridiculous.’

  ‘No,’ Rob breathed, shaking his head.

  ‘This place pulls me in, acts like a safe haven, and then reminds me of his betrayal,’ I added, as I took in the ageing and weathered wood around us.

  ‘Then why come up here?’

  ‘It calls out to me. It’s just too tempting not to. I spot it from the kitchen or from my bedroom window. I’ve always thought of it as a place to be closer to him – but I’ve been feeding myself a sack of shit. All it does is remind me of what I no longer have.’

  Rob puffed out his cheeks as he exhaled and ran his fingers through his hair, pulling the blond strands away from his eyes.

  ‘I’ll be back in a bit,’ he said quickly, as he shuffled along the floor, grabbed hold of the blue rope and jumped down and out of the hole to the grass below. I watched him as he walked around the house and out of the side gate. When he returned ten minutes later he was carrying a bright yellow plastic toolbox.

  ‘What’s that for?’ I yelled down, sitting up and trying to get a better view of what he was up to.

  ‘Call it a special birthday present,’ he grinned, opening up the box and taking out a hammer and saw.

  ‘What?’

  ‘A few pieces of wood shouldn’t make you query how loved you are – or taunt you about what might have been if your dad wasn’t such a dick. Now, come down here, grab some tools and let’s demolish the crap out of it.’

  ‘Seriously?’

  ‘I want to free you of your chains,’ he smirked.

  ‘I feel like Rapunzel,’ I joked as I hung out of the window of my childhood treehouse.

  ‘That makes me your prince charming, then,’ Rob winked. ‘Are you coming down? Or do you want me to carry you?’

  Eagerly, I made my way down from the treehouse for the last time. Adrenaline pumped through me as I took the saw from Robert and reached up to start hacking away at one of my hidden demons. We ripped, smashed, crushed and split every piece of that wooden structure until there was nothing but a simple apple tree left behind. It must have taken less than half an hour, but I enjoyed every second – at one point I even threw the tools aside and just started pulling at it with my hands, yanking rusty nails away from their embedded homes. Never had I felt so pumped and full of energy.

  ‘Now what?’ I asked in my out-of-breath state as I stared at the treehouse’s carcass in a heap on the ground.

  ‘We burn it,’ he grin
ned, pulling out lighter blocks from the plastic box, along with a box of matches.

  I’ll admit that the whole thing had an air of teenage girl drama about it. You know, girl gets ditched by arsehole boyfriend and burns every picture of them together in some ritualistic voodoo cursing manner … but as I watched those pieces of wood go up in flames, and flicked that picture from the day it was created on top of the burning pile, I felt a sense of release.

  I put my arm around Rob’s shoulders and thanked him for giving me the best birthday present I could have asked for.

  ‘Anything for you,’ he winked, ruffling my hair. ‘Now, let’s go find that girlfriend of mine … I believe she’s been making you a cake.’

  Maddy

  Eighteen years old …

  And so, the time came to head for university. We were all leaving Peaswood on the same Saturday morning in early October. Gloriously warm sunshine beamed down on us as the sun dug its heels in and refused to give in to the winter weather that was heading our way.

  Robert was to travel in his own car to Nottingham while his parents followed behind in theirs. You’d have thought that as he was the youngest of three boys, both of whom had previously been sent off to university, they’d be blasé about him going away, but he was still their baby, therefore they insisted on going with him and getting him settled. Much to his annoyance.

  Me and Ben were going in separate cars, while our mums and my dad followed behind.

  All three of us were going to have our cars with us, which we were hoping would make the miles between Bristol, Nottingham and home appear more bearable. Plus driving still felt cool and gave us great freedom – we weren’t too keen on giving that up so soon and relying on public transport.

  As agreed, at eleven o’clock Ben, Robert and the parents drove over to ours to say a final farewell. I’d said a proper goodbye to Robert the night before. He’d come over to help me pack, but he proved to be quite a distraction and kept picking me up and dragging me away from my suitcase. He’d always been athletic and strong, but in our last year at Peaswood High his pole-like frame had suddenly bulked up and become more manly, once again capturing the attention of not only the girls at school, but any female we passed on the street – occasionally males too. As ever, he liked to show off his strength, which was why he kept picking me up and plonking me back on my bed, no matter how much I protested.

 

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