by Holly Bourne
I remembered last night’s quiet whispers to each other as the rain fell. I turned very red and that answered the question for them.
Amanda and Lizzie screamed in delight.
“Really?” Amanda said.
I nodded.
“Tell. Me. Everything,” Lizzie demanded.
I looked towards Ruth. Okay, so she was being a prize twat but she was going through a break-up and having the I-love-you conversation wasn’t really fair. She caught my eye though and shrugged.
“Don’t mind me,” she said, giving me another hint of a smile. “Spill all. Though I don’t call dropping The Big L taking it slow. I’m just saying.”
More drinks were bought as I described the last couple of days. It felt good to talk to my friends about it, to get their reactions, their opinions. It made it real. This amazing thing happening to me wasn’t just a figment of my imagination. They, Ruth included, gasped at all the right moments. When I’d finished describing the previous night’s events, they all fell back into their seats, exhausted from the gossip.
We sat savouring it, until Lizzie brought up something I’d almost forgotten.
“So what happened to the whole ‘I think I’m allergic to him’ phase?”
I thought back to those random panic attacks.
I shook my head. “It’s all stopped. It must have been something unrelated.”
“Sounded a bit strange anyway. I don’t think I’ve heard of anyone being allergic to anyone else.”
Lizzie turned her attention to Amanda. “So?” she said, poking her. “Poppy’s spilled. What’s going on with you and Johnno. I’m not leaving until I get at least one sordid detail.”
The hours passed as we tortured Amanda for information. She stayed tight-lipped though. Even when we stole her handbag and held it to ransom. She told us we would get bored; she was right. After about half an hour, Amanda quite assertively prised the bag from Ruth’s hands while she was halfway through telling us about Will’s inadequacies in bed. Ruth looked pretty stunned by such daring.
In fact, Amanda standing up for herself was much more shocking than Ruth’s revelations. Ruth would always boast about how amazing a guy was in bed when she was going out with them – each conquest would have the biggest willy she had ever seen, be the most adventurous she had ever experienced, etc., etc. But then, mysteriously, after she’d dumped them, she would divulge all these cringy stories instead. I wasn’t sure how she expected us to believe anything she said. We weren’t goldfish, we had memories, and so we knew she was completely contradicting herself. But she would do it anyway. And we would happily oblige her, playing along. I suppose it was the only real glimpse I got into Ruth’s inner insecurity.
Eventually I realized I should be getting home.
“You off?” Lizzie asked, as I stood up.
“Yup. I’ve not seen my parents since yesterday morning. I should probably drop in to show my thanks for them creating-and-birthing-me and that.”
“I’ll walk with you.”
“Cool.”
We said goodbye and walked outside, back towards the flooded part of town. The water had receded quite a bit, which was just as well, as I didn’t have Noah to carry me across the puddles. Thinking of him sent my stomach into more convulsions and I realized, to my own annoyance, that I literally couldn’t stop smiling.
“So you’re in love then?” Lizzie asked, as we carefully manoeuvred ourselves around a giant puddle.
I took a deep breath. “I think so.” More stomach convulsions. “I really think I am.”
“So how does it feel?”
I looked at my friend. She seemed a little sad. And I felt for her. I would feel a little sad if the situation was reversed. That’s the weird thing about growing up. One day you realize that you and your friends can’t do everything at the same time. Your lives fragment and different stuff starts happening to each of you.
“You wanna know the truth?”
She nodded.
“Well, in truth, Lizzie, it’s a little bit terrifying.”
She wasn’t expecting that. “Terrifying?”
“Yep.”
“How so?”
I thought about my answer, not sure if I could articulate what I meant.
“Well, for one, it’s not something you have any control over. And I hate that. It’s like I have no authority over my feelings – they won’t listen to me. They just make up their own mind and overrule my reasoning. I don’t think I particularly wanted to fall for Noah. It’s not sensible. And yet it’s like I didn’t have a choice.”
Lizzie laughed. “Trust you to find all the negative aspects of falling in love.”
I shook my head. “It’s not negative. It’s just true. And the other thing that scares me is how crazily dependent I am already.”
“No way, Poppy Lawson. I never thought I’d see the day.”
“I know. I hate it.”
The puddles got shallower as we made our way towards our respective homes.
“Well, can’t you make yourself less dependent on him?”
I had to think again to pull together an honest answer.
“I wish I could.” I stretched my arms over my head. “But no. I feel, like, bound to him or something. Like if he was taken away, I would never be able to recover. I hate it. I promised myself I would never feel like this over a boy. But I honestly can’t help it. The thought of losing him makes me feel sick…” My voice broke. “Sick? Over losing a guy?” A tear fell down my cheek. “God, Lizzie, what’s wrong with me?”
I ground to a halt and Lizzie put her arm around me.
“Poppy, you’re supposed to be HAPPY. You know that, right?”
I nodded. Another tear escaped.
“Look,” Lizzie said, “I’ve not been in love so I can’t pretend to understand what you’re going through. But I know this much. It’s supposed to be a happy time. HAPPY?”
“I am happy. That’s what scares me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I don’t want my happiness to depend on a boy. It never did any good to anyone.”
“That’s just silly. Look at all those trashy romcoms that do so well at the box office. No one in them is happy until they get together with some guy. Or what about those trashy books that Amanda reads? They’re all pretty much ‘Happily Ever After’, aren’t they?”
I sniffed. My nose had begun to run. “Yeah, but that’s not real love,” I said, rubbing my nose with my finger. “Love doesn’t work like those films, like it’s an equation to be solved. Look at the real love stories. The ones that don’t fall into a formulaic, forgettable haze. The love stories they teach in school, the ones that last for ever. In those stories the love destroys the characters. It rips them apart. It makes their lives unlivable. What if it gets like that?”
We started walking again. Lizzie looked like she was trying not to laugh. I suppose I didn’t blame her. I was maybe being a tad melodramatic.
“Poppy. Darling. I love you and I’m very happy for you and Noah. But you’re not Romeo and Juliet, or Cathy and Heathcliff, or even that couple from The Notebook who make everyone cry.” Her arm was still around me. “Look, it’s the first time you’ve fallen in love. I think it’s overwhelming for everybody. You’re just overthinking it…”
I tried to protest but she ignored me.
“…You are. I know you are. It’s what you do. But please, can you just try to enjoy it? You’ve found someone who loves you. You. For exactly who you are. Some people go their whole lives without ever experiencing that and you’ve managed to achieve it at the tender age of seventeen. So stop worrying and enjoy it. Just don’t forget who your friends are.”
I knew she was speaking sense. Although I didn’t feel relieved, more misunderstood.
But to satisfy her, I nodded and gave her a quick hug. “Of course I won’t forget you guys. I’m not Ruth, for God’s sake.”
Lizzie laughed again. “Ha ha. Aww, poor Will. He’s about to ge
t his heart broken, isn’t he?”
“I think so.”
“Oh well. He should’ve known better.”
As we walked, I felt less freaked out. I was surprised by my outburst really. It hadn’t occurred to me I’d been having those thoughts until I just came out with them. Being with Noah was so captivating that I seemed incapable of producing rational analysis until I was away from him. I suppose that in itself was something to worry about, but I remembered what Lizzie said and silently told myself to enjoy it.
Lizzie and I broke apart at our usual corner.
“Thanks for listening,” I said. “Sorry. It must be infuriating listening to me whinge about being in love. I would hate me if I was you.”
“Well, I’m trying to be happy for you. Try and be happy for yourself.”
“Walk in to college together tomorrow?”
“I’ll meet you at the usual time.”
Dad was in his regular spot when I got in.
“You’re alive,” he said as I walked into the sitting room, a glass of water in one hand and a Kit Kat in the other.
“Indeed I am.”
I sat on the arm of his favourite chair and gave him a quick hug. “Did you guys weather the storm okay? It doesn’t look like we got any flooding.”
I snapped the Kit Kat in two and gave Dad half.
“We were just fine.” He took a mouthful and sprayed a few chocolate crumbs onto his lap. “Mum’s upset about what all the rain will do to her herb garden, but apart from that we’re unaffected.” He took another bite of chocolate. “What about you? Were you safe at Noah’s?”
It felt weird that he knew I’d stayed there. I dreaded what his assumptions must be and wanted to tell him about our take-it-slow approach. Too awkward though.
I rested my head on his shoulder. “I was fine. It was pretty scary when we got stuck in it, but once we got inside it was okay.” I paused. “It was all a bit weird though, wasn’t it?”
Dad nodded. “I suppose they don’t call it freak weather for nothing.”
We sat companionably for a few minutes, each chomping our chocolate. Dad took out the paper and started reading. I remembered the dig Noah had made about me not reading the news, so I started reading over Dad’s shoulder.
The front page of the Middletown Observer was dedicated to the storm – they’d somehow put out a special extra edition overnight. The headline was clear, bold and to-the-point: FREAK STORM BLITZES TOWN.
“Wow. Has there been much damage?”
Dad turned to the following page. There were pictures of the flooding, with lots of photos of upset-looking people standing forlornly outside their wrecked businesses.
“Quite a bit. They’re saying it could take at least a month to get some places back to normal.”
“Do they still not know what caused it?”
“They haven’t got a clue. They think it’s something to do with the North Atlantic Drift, but usually you get more warning if a storm comes from that direction.”
We read the news coverage together. I cheered up a little when I saw Lizzie’s name in print, crediting her for some quotes she’d gathered from shocked members of the public. The sneaky thing hadn’t even told us. But it quickly got too depressing to read any more. I stifled a yawn.
“I’m going to my room.”
“Goodnight, poppet.”
I went upstairs and got into my pyjamas. It felt good to get out of my rained-on clothes. I gratefully snuggled under my covers and got out my book. I’d only read half a page when my mobile went off.
I looked at the screen and smiled. It was Noah.
“Hello, you,” I said, still smiling.
“Alright, gorgeous, how was your day without me?”
“It was delightful.” I snuggled further under the duvet.
“Aww. Don’t say that. I was about to be ultra soppy and tell you I missed you.”
“That would be soppy.”
“Well, I won’t say it then.”
Just hearing his voice had made me forget the horrible stories in the newspaper. “Okay,” I relented. “I missed you a little bit too.”
“Soppy cow.”
“Hey!”
“Just playing you at your own game.”
I switched my phone to my other ear and rolled onto my side. “So how was band practice?”
I could hear excitement in Noah’s voice. “It was good actually. Really good. In fact, we’ve got a pretty big show lined up.”
“That sounds cool. Whereabouts?”
“We got a call today from this guy who helps us get gigs. Do you know Ponyboys?”
I did know Ponyboys. Everyone knew Ponyboys. They’d been on the radio constantly. They were one of those indie-pop bands that had exploded in popularity after releasing some rocky, catchy love song. Ruth and Amanda were really into them, and I had a few of their songs on my iPod.
“Yeah, of course. Why?”
“Well…” Noah paused for dramatic effect. “…They’re playing The Complex in two weeks.”
“Yeah. Ruth and Amanda have tickets. So?”
“Apparently they always like to have a local band support them. They found out about us online and listened to our demo. And, Poppy, I can’t believe it, but they’ve asked us to support them.”
I sat up in bed. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope.”
“Really?”
“Yup.”
“That’s amazing, Noah.” I couldn’t believe it either. The Complex was about a twenty-minute drive from town. It usually hosted quite big names. I’d seen a few bands there in the rare moments I was organized enough to get tickets.
“I think I’m still in shock. We’ve got so much practising to do. Only two weeks! I hope we don’t screw it up.”
“You won’t screw it up.”
“Well, I won’t if you’re there.”
I sighed. “I would love to come, but tickets sold out ages ago.” It sucked actually. I would’ve loved to see Noah on such a big stage. Why hadn’t I let Ruth buy me a ticket?
“Poppy. You’ll be there. You’re with the band. I’ll be able to get you in.”
It took a while for me to digest. “Say that again.”
“I’ll be able to get you in.”
“No, the first part. Say the first part again.”
Noah sounded confused. “You’re with the band…?” he ventured.
I sighed happily and slumped back into my pillows. “Do you have any idea how cool that sounds?” I laughed at my own pathetic-ness.
Noah laughed too. “I get it. One of the reasons I got into music was just so I could say the phrase ‘I’m in a band’ to girls.”
“Don’t remind me, please.”
“Well, you’re my groupie now, Poppy. My only groupie. And that means free backstage passes.”
I smiled. “Have I ever told you that I love you?”
He laughed again. “If I didn’t know any better, I would say you’re only interested in me because I’m in a band.”
“Well, if I’m your official groupie, doesn’t that mean I have to sleep with you?” I said it innocently enough, but Noah went quiet down the phone.
“Noah?” I asked, slightly panicked. “You still there?”
He eventually spoke again. “Honestly, Poppy. You can’t just spring that mental image casually into a conversation like that. I can’t think of anything else now.”
I giggled. “Men are so one-dimensional.”
“I’m afraid we are. I’m trying my hardest not to be.”
For a brief moment, I entertained the thought of sleeping with Noah and it made me draw breath. I was still terrified, naturally. But when I thought back to the previous night and how it had felt with him in that field, I got judders.
I spoke raspily, surprised by how turned on I’d suddenly made myself. “You sure this taking-things-slow thing is a good idea?”
More silence.
“Honestly, Poppy, are you trying to kill me?”
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay. I do think it’s a good idea. It’s just going to be hard logistically that’s all.” He was quiet again for a moment. “The thing is, Poppy, it’s you. You’re so special. We’re so special. And I don’t want to rush it. We have a lot of time…” More quiet. “In fact, at the risk of sounding massively soppy, I feel I have all the time in the world with you. I feel like we’re for ever.”
I really honestly completely and utterly couldn’t stop smiling now.
“Do you feel the same?”
There was a nervousness there again. I thought about what he’d just said, and what it meant. For ever. Well, a lifetime anyway. It was daunting to think of being with someone for that long. Yet I knew I would never find someone like Noah again. He was my fit. Outsiders would look at us, sneer, and diminish whatever was going on as “puppy love”, but I knew better. I supposed that was why I’d been freaking out. You’re not supposed to meet your soulmate at seventeen. In fact, until last week, I hadn’t even believed in them. But I just knew, inherently, that this was right.
I’d kept Noah waiting for an answer and I chose my words carefully.
“I do feel the same.”
“Really? ’Cause I don’t want to overwhelm you. Honestly? I’m a little bit overwhelmed myself.”
“I am a bit freaked out. But, at the risk of sounding like a melodramatic teenager, I feel I could spend the rest of my life with you quite happily.”
Noah sighed in relief. “Thank you,” he said. “I was getting scared that I was the only one having all these crazy thoughts.”
“Nope. Not just you. It must be our raging teenage hormones.”
“Well, we might be a little bit young, but look at Romeo and Juliet. They were all true-love and they were only about fourteen. Gross really, when you think about it.”
I laughed. “And look how well that turned out.”
“Let’s try not to kill ourselves, shall we? Just for a while?”
We spoke a bit more about the gig. About Ruth. I told him she was planning to break up with Will and he got a bit annoyed. I found myself trying to defend her, then realized I didn’t have much of an argument.
After a while it was time to ring off.
