...And a Happy New Year?

by Holly Bourne

  She turned to smile at me, to see if I would nod and agree.

  But I was spiralling…

  BAD THOUGHT

  You have no one.

  BAD THOUGHT

  You’re the crazy one, being left behind. The crazy ones always get left behind.

  I couldn’t imagine life without Amber, life without the three of us. Yes, uni was okay, and the people I’d met were great, but they weren’t my Spinster Club. Lottie going to London was one thing… It was new, I sort of didn’t blame her for getting caught up in it. I knew she’d come back.

  But Amber… America.

  BAD THOUGHT

  You can’t fly to America, Evie. Think of all the recycled air in planes.

  “Evie?” Amber’s face softened, her eyes wide, wet with the hint of tears. Kyle’s arms were around her, kissing the top of her head, soothing her.

  I didn’t have anyone to soothe me.

  Not any more.

  I shook my head. “I can’t believe you didn’t say anything,” was all I could say. Because if I said much more, I would shatter into so many pieces I’d turn into dust.

  “Evie, I was going to! I just wanted to…I was just waiting for…”

  “You’re actually going?”

  Maybe she’d shake her head. Maybe she’d say she hadn’t decided yet. Maybe she’d say “only for a year”. Maybe this was a joke. Maybe this was a phase. Maybe maybe…

  “I’m going, Evie. Please…if you’d just hear me out…”

  But I’d stopped listening. I didn’t want to hear it. I couldn’t hear it. I couldn’t pretend to be happy for her, not when I was so sad for me. Sad for me – lost, silly me. Who couldn’t leave their hometown, who couldn’t get on planes, who couldn’t have adventures, who had a boyfriend who couldn’t even leave the house. My stupid tiny life which will always be stupid and tiny because my brain won’t let it be anything but. I thought I was doing okay. I thought I was getting there. But all I was doing was getting left behind.

  “It’s almost midnight,” I said. “I have to call Oli.”

  “Evie? Evie!”

  But I grabbed my coat from the bannisters and pushed myself out into the back garden to call my boyfriend.

  My crazy, lonely boyfriend.

  Who was all I seemed to have left.

  People were yelling, things were smashing, the party was getting out of hand.

  “Everyone into the living room for the countdown,” someone shouted, like it was their house.

  I was running upstairs to my bedroom, Kyle chasing after me.

  I was crying.

  “Amber? Amber!” he called after me, worry bleeding through his voice.

  I pushed through my bedroom door and flopped head first onto the bed, crying directly into my pillow, which smelled slightly of Lottie and her sick.

  It was too much. Them knowing. It made it real. And they were both so angry. I couldn’t blame them. Well, I could blame Lottie. It was so like her to make it all drama and yelling and about her.

  I felt the pressure of Kyle perching on the end of the bed.

  “Amber?” he asked, stroking my foot.

  I cried in reply.

  “Amber, it will be okay. It’s just Lottie letting off steam is all.”

  Letting off steam? I smiled into the pillow. Only Kyle would use the phrase “letting off steam”. I sat myself up.

  “Did you see Evie’s face? She hates me.”

  “She’s just surprised. It wasn’t right for Lottie to confront you like that.”

  I looked down at the carpet, where my papers were. Where she’d made the discovery…

  “I can’t believe I’m leaving them behind.”

  He pulled me closer and started rubbing my back, kissing my head. Always there for me.

  “You’re not leaving them anywhere. You’ll still be in touch all the time, they can come visit…”

  “Evie won’t be able to.” My hand went to my mouth the moment I had the thought. She wouldn’t, she’d not been on a plane for years.

  “She can build up to it. And you’ll come back and visit all the time. It will be fine,” Kyle said. “And—”

  We were interrupted by yelling from downstairs.

  “TEN

  NINE

  EIGHT.”

  “It’s midnight,” I said, even though it was obvious. Kyle stood to go downstairs but I pulled him back down. I didn’t want to see in this new year with anyone around me. This year was going to change everything. It was going to be a year I marked in my life as the one when everything shifted. This time next year, I’d probably be in the States. It wouldn’t even be midnight yet. And everyone would have American accents and…oh God…what was I doing?

  “FIVE

  FOUR

  THREE…”

  But Kyle. His arms around me, his lips pressed into my forehead, the way I just felt so…full. So safe. So me. I had to be with him. I had to leave. It broke my heart. But I had to. I had to give my life a shot. I had to go where the love was…

  “TWO…”

  I looked up at him. “I love you,” I told him, and his smile stretched so far across his face I’m surprised it didn’t break.

  “I love you too. It’s going to be okay, Amber, you’re going to be okay.”

  “HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!!!!!!!!”

  The cheers bounced up the stairs, the hoots of horns, the pop of party poppers. I felt that weird mix of drama and anticlimax that you always feel on the first breath of a new year. I hugged Kyle tight and he gently swayed me as a rowdy nonsensical version of “Auld Lang Syne” thundered up through the floor.

  “SHOULD AULD ACQUAINTANCE BE FORGOT AND NEVER BROUGHT TO MIIIIIIND…”

  Oh God, would Lottie and Evie become old acquaintances? Would they merge into the past? Would their outlines disappear? Would we not be able to keep it up?

  Or worse, would I develop an American twang?

  “Everything’s going to change,” I mumbled into Kyle’s hard shoulder.

  “That’s just what life is.”

  “But I don’t want things to change.”

  “Don’t you?”

  And I thought about living in this house, always feeling like a stranger. And I thought about how…good America had been for me. How it had flaked off my cynicism, unravelled my armour, made me smile and realize good things can happen, and that I am a good thing.

  But I also thought of the girls, and weekly emails becoming monthly, and monthly emails becoming Sorry it took me so long to reply, until we didn’t really reply any more at all.

  “I don’t want things to change with my friends.”

  Kyle released me from the hug, and held me at arm’s length. He put on his crap British accent and said: “Well, bloody find them and tell them that then.”

  “Will! Will? Wait up.”

  For a moment I didn’t think he’d stop for me. But he paused in the hallway, and I caught up.

  “Hey, Lottie. You all right?” He looked everywhere but in my eyes, mostly at the top of my head. I mean, my hair was a mess, but he’d seen it like this more often than not. “What was going on back there?”

  “I told you. Amber’s moving to America.” I snorted. “To be with Kyle. Anyway” – I reached out, putting my arm around him, craving touch – “I should be yelling at you, not her. Why did you leave me all alone in her room?” I laughed, to show I didn’t mind. When I really did mind, quite a lot.

  Will didn’t smile, instead he looked quite pained. Oh God, something was wrong. I could feel it in my loins, and my loins are never wrong. “I was only gone a moment, you were out cold.”

  “You would’ve missed kissing me at midnight?” I smiled seductively, as much as you can with your mouth closed as you probably smell like vomit.

  Again, Will didn’t smile. Well, he did. But it was all closed-lips and squinty eyes and for show and I couldn’t pretend something wasn’t up. I wasn’t Amber.

  So, just as he said, “Shall we go into
the living room? It’s almost the countdown,” I said, “Will, what the hell is going on?”

  He scratched his head. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re being all weird.”

  “No I’m not.”

  “You are. You’ve hardly spoken to me since you got here.”

  “You’re just drunk, Lottie.”

  “Don’t gaslight me! I know you. I know when you’re being weird. And you know me. You know I’m not going to stop bugging you until you tell me. So why don’t you save yourself an unpleasant battering and just talk already?”

  I was holding myself up using the wall, leaning into it. But my voice didn’t sound as drunk as I felt, and Will must’ve heard it. Because he sighed a big, heavy sigh and then said words that sent dread catapulting around my bodily parts.

  “Argh, I didn’t want to do this tonight… Can we go somewhere?”

  I gulped, which is quite an achievement when your mouth is as dry as the inside of a vacuum cleaner. “Let’s go outside.”

  And, to pretend I had some control of the situation, I walked past him and pushed through the front door.

  It was so cold outside, my breath frosting and drifting off. I wanted to hug my arms to myself, but felt like I needed to look brave. Which was a worry. I turned on my heel, the second I’d stepped off the front step and said, “So, what is it then?”

  Though I knew, I think I knew…and I couldn’t…

  Will kept scratching his head, pulling his hair up on end. His eyes behind the thick frames of his glasses still looked everywhere but at me.

  “It’s just…I’m just…I told you, I didn’t want to do this tonight.”

  “If you’re going to break up with me, I’d rather you didn’t hold onto that information.” It came out sharp, bitter. Will’s mouth dropped open, but he didn’t deny it. He didn’t deny it straight away. And if you’re not about to break up with someone, you would deny it straight away.

  “Oh God,” I said, tears springing to my eyes, but I wouldn’t let them spill. No, do not let him see you cry. But Will saw through it, softening, stepping forward to hold my face in his hands.

  “Oh, Lottie, it’s okay.”

  I shook my head to get rid of him. “No, don’t touch me. Explain. Tell me why you’re ending this.”

  “I’m not ending this.”

  He wasn’t? He reached out, took my hand, squeezed it. He looked so pained and I melted a little, even with the air this cold. Maybe it was fine. Maybe he just had a disease or something – we could deal with that. A nonterminal one, like mono. I’m not sure what mono is, but I think it’s safeish.

  “So, what’s going on?” I looked up to meet his gaze. “You’ve been so weird.”

  “But you have too.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t want to break up with you,” he said…making my heart lift a little.

  Shouting came from inside.

  “TEN

  NINE

  EIGHT…”

  The countdown had begun, but I hardly noticed it, hanging on his every word. Wanting so much for this to be okay. So something in my life was okay. Yes, we’d been weird for a while now, but at least I could tell myself that I had this part of my life sorted, the romance box well and truly ticked with lovely, sexy film-maker Will.

  “But, when I was away skiing, I was thinking, well…do you not think…”

  “SEVEN

  SIX

  FIVE…”

  “…we’re a bit too…young…”

  “FOUR

  THREE…”

  “…to be in a relationship this serious? I mean, what I’m trying to say is…”

  “TWO

  ONE…”

  “…that we should take a break from each other.”

  “HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!!!”

  Cheers erupted around us, echoing from all the houses, shooting into my heart as it cracked open and spilled out onto the manicured lawn of Amber’s front garden.

  “Will, you just broke up with me.”

  He shook his head. “No, I didn’t. I just think we need to talk.”

  “About breaking up?”

  “No…well…about having a break.”

  “That’s the same thing, Will.” My voice tried to break on the word “Will” but I pulled it back, crossing my arms further. Don’t let him see you upset, don’t let him see you upset.

  “It’s just, Lottie… Look, I love you, you know I love you…” Don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry. “But come on. We’re both only nineteen. We’re at different unis. I don’t think we should be tied down. Don’t you think maybe we should be…well…free?”

  “You want to fuck other people?”

  “No! It’s not like that. It’s not like that at all.”

  “I can’t believe you’ve just dumped me, at midnight, on New Year’s Eve, so you can shove your penis into other people.”

  Will pulled a face. “Don’t be crass.”

  “I can be however I want, you’re breaking up with me so you can get laid.”

  “I’m not, I’m not…” He sighed and, to be fair, he looked sort of broken. But it was him doing the breaking – of himself, of me, of us. “Come on, Lottie. Us, you and me. We’re not the sort of people who get tied into a relationship when we’re this young. I love you…”

  Then don’t break up with me.

  “…but I don’t know, I’m finding it hard us doing long distance…”

  “It’s less than an hour’s journey!”

  He ignored me. “And there was this girl I met, skiing…” He saw my face. “I didn’t do anything but, well, I wanted to. And I’m sure you want to too. I don’t want to resent you, and I don’t want you to resent me. I can see you resent me…like when I last came to visit…”

  I dropped my mouth open. “You were sucking up to Heather and everyone, you acted like you hated me all weekend!”

  “You were being weird all weekend, Lottie! You, like, didn’t want to leave your room. And I was just being friendly. I’m a film-maker, I get to know people. I thought you liked that about me, but you acted like I was a deserter or something.”

  I shook my head, trying to dislodge whatever new reality this was that was settling into my life like unwelcome snow. No Amber, no Will. What was going on? Will was still talking – it was never like him to talk more than me, but he was rambling, like my stunned silence was making him nervous.

  “Look, I’ve never met a girl like you. I adore you. And maybe we can get back together when we’re older? I just don’t want us to sour. I care about us too much to sour.”

  “So you’re breaking up with me to save us?”

  It was his turn to shake his head. “Stop trying to score points, I’m trying to have a serious conversation. I’m trying to be honest… Lottie…I love you…” His voice broke then, and he looked up, meeting my eye.

  “Don’t say you love me if you’re breaking up with me, Will. Those two things can’t co-exist.”

  Will was crying, his face had gone red and blotchy, his glasses weren’t sitting quite right and all my insides threw themselves at each other, in confusion, in pain, in longing, in hurt. “I’ve never loved anyone before. I don’t know what to do…I…I…” He was proper crying, pushing his glasses askew as he tried to stuff the tears back into his eyes. I kept shaking my head, not sure what to do. Will was crying. The boy I loved was crying. But, well, he was crying because of something HE was doing, not me. What are you supposed to do about that? I reached out slowly, touching his arm. It was as cold as my fingers. He grabbed my hand with his other hand and sort of pulled me into him, until I was flat against his chest.

  “I don’t understand why you’re doing this,” I managed to say, as my own tears spilled.

  “I think you do, Lottie. I just think you’re too scared to let go of us right now. I know you’re finding things hard at uni. But that’s not a reason to hold onto something that’s not right. I know you know that. I know you’re going to than
k me for doing this, in time. Sorry, the timing is shit…I thought I could avoid doing this tonight. I’m…I’m so sorry, Lottie.”

  He leaned his forehead against mine, pulled me in for a kiss and I kissed him back blearily, our tears merging. How had this evening come to this? How had life gone this way? How can any good come from a year that starts with your first love kissing you on the forehead, whispering “Goodbye” and walking away from you, leaving you sinking into the lawn, your heartbreak bleeding out onto the cold frost of the ground?

  He answered on the first ring.

  “Evie? What is it? Is everything okay?”

  Only a person with anxiety would know straight away if an anxious person was calling in a state of anxiety.

  I was already crying. “No.”

  “What is it? What’s happened?”

  The shock and grief overtook me and I was unable to talk for a good minute as I sank back into the wall, sobs erupting from my guts, coughing them up like phlegm. I almost couldn’t breathe.

  Oli yelled down the phone with worry. “Evie? Evie?! What is it? Are you okay? Has someone done something to you? Evie? Please talk to me, EVIE!”

  Eventually I managed to say, “I’m fine, I’m safe. It’s just…just…” And the cries won again and I sank so far back into the wall that the pebbled stucco grazed my back through my top.

  Oli seemed to calm a little, though he kept saying, “What’s wrong? What’s wrong?”

  BAD THOUGHT

  He should be here for this, not on the other end of a phone.

  And I cried harder with guilt for even thinking that. I slid to the ground, huddling my knees up, just crying and crying into my mobile.

  BAD THOUGHT

  Why not touch that rock over there seven times? See if that will stop Amber from leaving?

  And the urge, the urge was so strong. Even though it was silly and stupid and wouldn’t work and would be selfish if it did work.

  “Evie, you’re scaring me.”

  “Amber’s moving to America,” I said finally. “Lottie just found her confirmation letter from an American uni upstairs.”