Soulmates

by Holly Bourne

  I’m not sure how long I’d been lying there when I felt cold on my face. It had been plunged into shadow. I opened my eyes and squinted to see who was responsible for blocking my sun. And I almost fell off the bench in surprise.

  It was Noah.

  “Poppy?”

  I struggled to get upright as I tried to imagine why on earth he was there. He watched me, amused, none of the nastiness of the previous night in his expression.

  “How come whenever I see you you’re never vertical?”

  I analysed my body’s reactions to him as I sat up like a normal person. My heart was beating slightly faster but he had shocked me. Other than that…no…everything seemed normal. That was good. My epiphany had obviously worked.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” I hadn’t forgotten his horrid smirking and wasn’t prepared to be overly friendly.

  “I was about to ask you the same thing.” He gestured to the space next to me. “Do you mind if I sit down?”

  I shook my head and he sat. Not close though. In fact, if he’d sat any further away he’d have fallen onto the muddy ground.

  “I always come here,” I answered, still shell-shocked at his sudden appearance. “It’s my favourite place in the world.” I turned to look at him, holding my breath to ensure my body behaved itself. He stared back at me.

  “That’s so weird,” he said. “I’m up here all the time too.”

  We both contemplated the coincidence silently.

  “Where do you live?” I asked.

  “On Green Acre Drive.”

  “So just round the corner then?”

  “How about you?”

  “Ash Road.” I thought about it. “I suppose the common is just one of those places you only know about if you live nearby.”

  Noah nodded. I risked another quick look at him, trusting my new-found strength. He was still gorgeous, even though he’d obviously dressed not expecting to bump into anyone. He was wearing a baggy pair of jeans with a hole in the knee and a grey woolly jumper, and his hair was dishevelled and standing on end. Anyone else would have looked a bit ropey, but he managed to pull off the scruffy look. Then I realized I also hadn’t been expecting to see anyone and panic set in. I wasn’t wearing a scrap of make-up, my hair hadn’t been washed and I was wearing a giant hoodie emblazoned with the logo for a now-embarrassing band I used to worship back when I was fifteen. I tried to rake my hair back with my fingers and we sat together in silence. Enough had been said already. It was awkward. Horribly awkward.

  Noah eventually broke the silence.

  “I can’t believe you’re here,” he said, looking at me. “This is just too weird.”

  I couldn’t believe he was speaking to me after what I’d last said to him. Maybe now he was with Portia he wasn’t upset any more. The thought made me feel a little ill.

  The words came out of my mouth before I even knew I was going to say them. “Noah, I’m really sorry.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “For what?”

  The words continued to gush out. “I was a bitch. I’m not usually like that. Ever. Okay, well sometimes. But, anyway, I’ve not been able to stop thinking about what happened and I feel awful about it. I’ve not said sorry. But I am. So…sorry, I guess.”

  I held my breath as I waited for his reply.

  He looked out over the view and I felt stupid – and also very aware of how greasy my hair was.

  “This really is too weird,” he said, still focused on the distance.

  “Why?”

  When he turned back I got the full force of those dark eyes. He stared at me searchingly and I stared right back. My heart was quickening a little, but no fainting spell yet.

  “It’s weird because I come up here when I need to think. And for the past couple of weeks all I could think about was you.”

  I gulped, not quite believing my innocent walk had brought this boy back into my life. So intensely. So quickly.

  “In fact I came up here to clear my head after last night. I’d been getting better at not thinking about you until I saw you yesterday. And then to find you here is very strange.”

  I still didn’t say anything.

  “Why were you lying on the bench by the way?” he asked. “It’s not a bed, you know.”

  I smiled. “It was comfortable.”

  “I could see that.”

  “I wasn’t expecting to see anyone. Which is why I look like crap, by the way.”

  He stared at me again, and then, very slowly, he tucked a loose strand of my hair behind my ear. “You don’t look like crap.”

  I blushed.

  Not able to handle the intensity, I turned back to the view, trying to collect my thoughts. More silence fell. And it was still awkward.

  “So that guy you were dancing with last night…” His voice had an edge of anger to it now. “…Is he your boyfriend?”

  That’s when I burst out laughing.

  “What?”

  I was unable to answer for a moment, still laughing. “Are you being serious?”

  Noah looked baffled. “Umm. Yes. Why? What’s so funny?”

  “That wasn’t my boyfriend.” I shook my head, trying to compose myself. “That was Frank. Honestly, if you met him you would know immediately he wasn’t my boyfriend.”

  Noah’s face remained confused. “Why?”

  I threw my head back. “God! Frank is like my anti-type. I only know him from English and our whole relationship is based on torturing each other.”

  He didn’t look convinced. “It didn’t look like you were torturing each other last night,” he said, through slightly gritted teeth.

  I remembered the dancing and Noah seeing us. I suppose it had looked suspect, if you hadn’t known we were just mucking about.

  I shrugged. “We were just dancing. In fact he usually hates that kind of music. You should take it as a compliment…” Then I remembered Portia and got indignant. “ANYWAY, what’s it to you who I dance with? Surely you were too busy sucking the face off that rich cow to even notice? By the way, public displays of affection are not cool.”

  The anger in Noah’s face had gone and his devastating playful grin returned.

  I, however, remained angry. “What?”

  “Are you jealous, Poppy?”

  I was rumbled. “Shut up. No I’m not. I just don’t like people snogging in public. It’s disgusting.” I fixed him with a glare. “You’re disgusting.”

  Instead of getting cross, he shuffled up closer to me on the bench. I stared at the disappearing space between us.

  “I think you’re jealous.”

  “I think you’re a man-whore.”

  It was his turn to burst out laughing. “What on earth is a man-whore?”

  “It’s what people say about you,” I explained, not sure why I was telling him this. “They say you go through women like incontinent people get through loo roll.”

  Why did I have to bring up incontinence? Noah didn’t seem the slightest bit angry at the personal attack I was launching though. In fact, he was still grinning infuriatingly. “So is Portia your latest conquest then?” I waited for his answer with bated breath.

  Noah leaned closer so our faces were almost touching. I melted a little.

  “Would you be upset if she was?” he whispered.

  Of course I would be bloody upset. I kept my face close but looked down.

  “I don’t care what you do,” I lied. “It’s your business.”

  Noah sat back, looking out at the view again. “So you wouldn’t feel anything if I told you I was just using her to make you feel jealous,” he asked casually.

  I replied equally casually. “Nope,” I lied again. “Although any feminist might want to have a few harsh words with you for being a complete arse wipe. Poor girl.” Another lie.

  Noah rolled his eyes. “Poor girl indeed. She’s just using me too. She doesn’t care the slightest bit about who I am. She just likes the image of having a rock god on her arm.”


  “Noah. I hate to be the one to tell you this but you’re not a rock god. You’re just a guitarist in one of the worst-named bands I’ve ever heard of.”

  At that, he grabbed my hand and clutched it hard. I looked down at our entwined fingers and felt an insane pulse of energy rush through me. It almost hurt but it was also amazing. I looked into his black eyes and got lost.

  “Poppy,” he whispered, still clasping my hand. “Something is happening here and I would really appreciate it if you would stop pretending it isn’t.” My breath shortened. He continued. “I’m not saying you have to marry me, or even go on a date with me. But could you just go for a coffee with me or something and we can try and work out what is going on?”

  I paused for a moment, and then sighed. “Okay.” Another brilliant smile and dolphins started diving through my belly. “I don’t think I could say ‘no’ any more if I tried.”

  He stood up and offered me his hand. I took it, feeling another surge of energy pass through us.

  “Thank God for that,” he said.

  And we walked back down the stinging-nettle-fringed path together, holding hands.

  I insisted we stop at my house so I could make myself more presentable.

  “But you look fine,” Noah complained.

  “Fine is the polite word for crappy,” I replied, wondering if he would mind waiting while I washed my hair.

  “Girls are so weird.”

  “It’s what keeps us mysterious.”

  “Mysterious is an understatement.”

  I hesitated when we got to my house and dropped his hand. “Umm. Do you mind waiting out here?” I asked, looking down at the ground.

  Noah took in my little detached house and smiled. “So this is where you live?”

  “You’re not going to stalk me now, are you?”

  “You would love it if I did.”

  “I don’t think people enjoy getting stalked. It’s not up there on the list of great things to happen to you.”

  Another stomach-flipping grin. “Yes, well, they’ve not been stalked by me, have they? I’m wonderful. Very polite. Why can’t I come in?”

  I struggled for the right words. “Well…if you came in you would meet my mother…and that’s just not a good idea.”

  He looked puzzled.

  “She gets worried about me, you see. And, well, if she sees you I’m going to have to explain you, and I’m not sure I can, and…it’s just easier if you stay outside.”

  He nodded. “Fair enough.”

  “I’ll be five minutes.”

  I knew it would be more like ten minutes and I felt mildly guilty about leaving him standing in the street, but Mum would be UNBEARABLE if she saw him. I dashed inside and, as if she knew I was thinking about her, Mum appeared on the stairs just as I was about to run up them.

  “Hello, dear,” she said, cradling a pile of laundry. “Did you have a nice walk?”

  I shimmied past her to make the interrogation as short as possible. “Yes thanks.”

  “Where are you off to?” she called after me.

  “Just into town.”

  “Where into town?”

  “To get some coffee.”

  “Who are you going with?”

  She should have been an MI5 interrogator. I closed my eyes and lied yet again. “Just meeting Lizzie to go through some coursework.”

  That seemed to satisfy her. I buried the guilt. There were much more pressing things happening. Like, Noah was outside my house. MY house. And we were going for coffee. Together. Less than six hours after promising myself I wouldn’t let him into my life. Well, promises were made to be broken, weren’t they? Or was that rules? Either way, I felt happy. Hallelujah happy. Happier than I’d been in for ever. And, much as I was aware how awful it was to attribute such happiness to a boy, I was fed up with denying myself him. Right, now where was my mascara?

  The five minutes became fifteen as I frantically overhauled my face, hair and clothes until I resembled someone worthy of having such an attractive man by their side. When I emerged back onto the street, Noah was leaning against a tree.

  He scanned me and I forced my heart to behave itself.

  He whistled. “Well, I was just about to moan about you leaving me so long, but as you look so beautiful I might have to forgive you.”

  I felt my face go red. “Sorry. I got sidelined by my mother, who was very interested in where I was going.”

  We started walking towards town.

  “And what did you tell her?”

  I thought about whether to lie again and decided against it. I wanted him to hold my hand again and the need made me feel slightly pathetic. “I told her I was meeting Lizzie.”

  “Poppy, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but I’m not Lizzie. My name’s Noah. You know? That guy from the kick-ass band?”

  We were still walking without hand-holding.

  I wrinkled my nose. “You don’t do low self-esteem very well, do you?”

  Noah shrugged. “That’s just as well considering you’re so ashamed of me you’re lying to your parents.”

  Deep breath.

  I turned to him, hoping I wouldn’t stumble on the pavement. “Look,” I said. “I don’t know you. You don’t know me. But, as you know because Ruth blurted it out, I have…stuff in my life. It’s all very boring and clichéd, but my mum’s part of it, and if you can be bothered to stay around long enough I might tell you, but I really don’t feel like it right now. Okay?”

  A sudden scorch shot through my arm. Noah had taken my hand.

  He looked at me intently. “I plan on staying around long enough.”

  And then he fixed me with such an incredible smile I’m surprised I didn’t keel over right in the middle of the road.

  Middletown town centre wasn’t an attractive place. Okay, so it wasn’t ugly – far too uppity for that. But it lacked any character. The pedestrianized area was clogged full of bland chain stores – the upmarket ones, of course. I didn’t go into town very often. Whenever I needed clothes I much preferred to hop on a train to London so I could scour the vintage shops.

  But, despite the distinct lack of choice, I was still surprised when Noah led me to a Caffè Nero.

  I hesitated at the door.

  “What is it?”

  “You’re taking me to a Caffè Nero?”

  He looked confused. “So?”

  I couldn’t resist the urge to take the piss. “Isn’t it a bit ‘commercial’ for an anti-establishment rock star like yourself?”

  He dropped my hand and dug into his pocket. “But I’ve got a loyalty card,” he protested. “And I’ve got enough stamps to get you a free coffee.”

  This was too much fun.

  “So you’re not only a sell-out but a cheapskate as well?”

  He looked slightly pissed off but still smiled. “Are you ever nice to anybody?” He opened the door for me.

  “Only people who earn it,” I replied, walking in.

  “I can’t believe you don’t like coffee. I feel like I’m taking my five-year-old niece out for the day.”

  We had found a comfy sofa to share and Noah was getting revenge for my ribbing him earlier.

  I took a big sip of my banana-flavoured milk unashamedly. “Oi,” I said. “This is a very grown-up sophisticated drink.”

  “It’s not embarrassing to order grown-up sophisticated drinks. Did you see the look the shop assistant gave me when I ordered banana milk.” Noah shook his head.

  I refused to get upset. “Nobody really likes coffee. They just pretend to because drinking coffee makes them feel like a proper adult.”

  “Is that right, Einstein?”

  The place was packed. We’d been lucky to get the last sofa. Other couples and groups were dispersed around us, slurping and gossiping, enjoying Saturday.

  Noah and I were almost touching. He was leaning back, relaxed against the arm of the sofa. It was still strange to be here. I could feel the energy build between our bodies, bu
t again, felt able to contain the reaction he usually brought out in me.

  I nodded. “Everyone who orders coffee secretly wants a banana milk. I just have the courage to order what I really want.” I held out my straw. “Come on, taste it.”

  He batted my glass away. “I don’t want your banana milk.”

  I pushed it at him again. “Go on. Just a little taste.”

  “No.”

  “You’re scared.”

  “Of banana milk?”

  “Yep. You’re not comfortable enough with your masculinity to try some.”

  I shoved it under his nose and he hit it away again, spilling some over me. I squealed and got up off the sofa to dry myself off, but Noah grabbed my waist and pulled me onto him. I squealed again and my body automatically nuzzled into his shoulder while he rested his face against mine. My breathing became short. I was getting incredibly hot.

  We stayed like that a moment, both trying to ignore the distinct smell of banana emanating from my top.

  “You’re not exactly what I thought you would be like,” Noah said without warning.

  My stomach dropped. Dread quickly filled my body. I’d felt so relaxed around him, I’d let my guard down almost immediately. “Is that bad?” I squeaked.

  He pulled me into him tighter and I relaxed. A tiny bit.

  “No, it’s good,” he said. “You’re not like other girls I’ve been with…I mean…I know…”

  I looked up at him, which was difficult considering his head was resting on mine.

  “Do they pretend to like coffee?”

  He laughed. “Yes. They do.”

  I shook my head, immediately hating them all. And when he said he’d “been with” them, what did he mean? Well, I knew what he meant. I silently cursed my virginity and struggled with what to say next.

  “They’re lying to themselves and so are you.”

  “Poppy. I like coffee. I’m not lying to myself.”

  “I bet you didn’t like it the first time you tried it.”

  He thought about it. “No. I don’t suppose I did.”

  I turned over to look at him directly. “So why did you continue to drink it?”

  “I dunno.”