Diary of a Crush: Kiss and Make Up

by Sarra Manning

  ‘Eight or nine,’ was the casual reply. ‘I lost count to tell you the truth.’

  ‘Oooh that’s so skeevy!’ I shuddered. ‘What about Darby?’

  ‘She ended up copping off with that art boy she’s fancied for the last six months,’ groaned Atsuko. ‘She’s spent all week clutching her mobile and waiting for him to call.’

  ‘Been there, done that, still working through the pain,’ I muttered.

  ‘So what did you and Carter get up to?’ Atsuko asked.

  I winced. ‘Had a big argument about why I wouldn’t shag him.’

  ‘So the usual then?’ laughed Atsuko.

  ‘Yeah…’

  ‘Are you two going to gossip all day or are we going to work on songs for our first platinum-selling album?’ called Poppy from the stage where she’d been fiddling with her mike stand.

  I think I’m turning into a rock chick on the quiet. Even though playing the guitar gives me backache and makes my fingers hurt, I’m really getting into throwing rock-god shapes as I actually make proper chords come out of my guitar. I even like singing (well, shouting if I’m being honest) on the choruses and doing harmonies while Poppy screams out lyrics about how crap boys are and how she’s actually a trained assassin. I spent most of the rehearsal thrusting out my hips and brandishing my guitar or trying to jump off the drum riser and master A flat diminished at the same time. I never thought I’d say it but I wish I’d paid more attention during GCSE Music. No wonder I only got a C.

  I also love hanging out with girls. It’s not at all like hanging out with boys, for which I’m eternally grateful. It’s weird but being forced to join this band by Poppy has turned me into the fourth member of a gang and her and Atsuko and Darby have become my best friends. I’d forgotten how cool it was to have girl buds. I’d never burp in front of Dylan or try and turn a Pringle over in my mouth while Carter was watching but I can do all those things with these girls and it just makes them like me more.

  We finished the rehearsal with our killer tune, Fang Boys Suck, our homage to Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I’d just managed to complete my guitar solo without making any mistakes and was concentrating on shouting, ‘Mr Pointy’s coming to get you, fang boy!’ at the top of my voice when I realised that Carter was leaning against a stack of broken amps by the door. I immediately hit a bum note earning me a glare from Poppy. And suddenly I thought, screw him! I was in a band. I had a job. I had a life away from him. He’d just have to deal with the real Edie instead of the embarrassed little girl I became when I was with him. I took that thought and ran with it or rather I stepped on to the drum riser for my final guitar flourish and jumped off as the song reached its noisy and dramatic final note.

  There was a moment’s silence while we tried to catch our collective breath and then it was broken by the sound of Carter clapping. Not a sardonic slow hand-clap but proper applause.

  ‘That was fantastic,’ he exclaimed as he walked towards us. I pulled off my guitar and looked at the others.

  ‘We’re not really ready for an audience,’ Poppy said, but she couldn’t stop herself. ‘Did you really think we were good? ’Cause we don’t want to be, like, a sad girly band but I think we kick ass in a tuneful way.’

  ‘I thought you were brilliant. All of you,’ said Carter with more enthusiasm than I’d ever heard him muster before. ‘Edgy but commercial too. Like this old girl band called The Raincoats.’

  ‘I love The Raincoats!’ squeaked Poppy.

  And I was like, Carter is actually being genuinely nice and well, unCarterish to one of my friends? Must be a full moon.

  Carter looked at me. ‘I never knew you could play so well,’ he said quietly. ‘You looked so cool.’

  It was like Carter had been abducted by aliens. He helped us pack all our gear away in the rehearsal complex’s storeroom and insisted on taking us to the pub to buy us a congratulatory round. Poppy sent Grace off home ’cause we’d never get served anywhere with such an obviously underage girl in tow, and we walked to the Dry Bar which was just around the corner. Carter even held my hand in the street and kept shooting me admiring glances and smiling at me. I guess I should have let him come to rehearsals more often.

  Poppy loved him because he knew about all the obscure indie bands that she was into. Atsuko and Darby were warming to him because he was their ‘in’ to a world of foxy art boys and even I managed to forget what a pig he’d been the night of the college graduation party because he was squeezing my hand and generally acting like I was a princess among (sort of) girlfriends. It was a complete revelation.

  I broke up all the mutual admiration that was wafting about at ten o’clock when I said that I was going.

  ‘Oh, stay, Edie,’ whined Poppy. ‘It’s early.’

  ‘I’ve got to be at work by 8.30 all this week,’ I reminded her. ‘It’s OK for you, you don’t have to be in till lunchtime.’

  ‘Oh, oh, no fair,’ she continued to whimper as Darby’s mobile rang and she ran outside to take the call.

  ‘I smell art boy,’ said Atsuko tartly as I stood up and pulled on my cardie.

  ‘Well, I’ll see you tomorrow,’ I said to Poppy, ‘And I’ll see you two soon,’ I said looking at Carter and Atsuko.

  Carter was having none of it. ‘You getting the bus home?’

  I nodded. ‘Yeah, it stops at the top of my road.’

  He got up. ‘I’ll come with you. Well, I’ll walk you to the bus stop.’

  I ignored Atsuko and Poppy’s raised eyebrows and smirks as Carter slung an arm round my shoulder and we walked out of the door.

  Carter had made major concessions to actually behaving like a normal boyfriend but kissing in bus shelters was always going to be a step too far. He did hold my hand while we waited for the bus though.

  ‘I suppose you’re not going to let me come home with you?’ he eventually asked with a half-smile.

  ‘Hmmm, you suppose right,’ I told him.

  He gave me a mock punch on the chin. ‘But you’ll think about what I said the other night, won’t you?’

  I rolled my eyes. ‘Look we’ve had a really nice evening, please don’t ruin it.’

  ‘I’m not,’ he protested. ‘I just know we’d be great together. I’d make it really good for you.’

  ‘There’s my bus,’ I said gratefully as it lurched into view. I turned to him. ‘Just give me some time, OK?’

  He bent down and pressed his lips to the corner of my mouth. ‘Make it soon, Edie.’

  1st August

  Life’s kind of rearranged itself into a routine over the last week. I work and try to pretend that I can handle spending large chunks of time with Dylan. I rehearse with the band. And I wait for Carter to call. And wait. And wait. I guess I could call him but I’m determined to win this round. So with all this working and longing and rehearsing and waiting, the days just seem to drift by.

  2nd August

  I so heart Sunday lie-ins. I was attempting to get out of bed in time to get to the local Farmers’ Market to buy cake when my phone rang.

  I groped for it on my bedside table, still stupid with sleep, but awake enough to feel a tiny flicker of hope. Maybe it was Carter. It wasn’t. It was Shona who I haven’t spoken to in forever.

  ‘Edie? Is that you? Did I wake you up?’

  ‘Yeah, you did actually,’ I mumbled. ‘But I was going to get up soon anyway.’

  ‘Well it is one o’clock,’ she pointed out. I could hear the irritation in her voice even down the phone line.

  There was a moment’s silence.

  ‘So how have you been?’ I finally asked but Shona wasn’t in the mood for idle chatter.

  ‘I need to talk to you,’ she said abruptly. ‘Can you meet me?’

  ‘If it’s about Dylan, then no,’ I snapped. ‘We just work together. That’s all and we’re, like, totally chaperoned all the time so if someone…’

  ‘What the hell has Dylan got to do with anything?’ she asked. ‘Or are you just doing a really c
rap job of covering up the fact that you two are still seeing each other?’

  ‘We are NOT seeing each other!’

  ‘OK, sorry,’ she sighed. ‘I’ll meet you by the lake in… can you be ready in an hour?’

  ‘Yeah,’ I agreed in a resigned voice and hung up. I didn’t know what Shona wanted but I knew it couldn’t be good.

  2nd August (later)

  I felt sick as I walked towards the park. Shona had a real nerve. ’Cause if you think about it (and I have done quite a lot), Dylan and I would never have broken up in the first place if it hadn’t been for the whole Mia business, which would never have happened if Shona and Paul had sorted out their own freaking mess, instead of getting Dylan to do it. I couldn’t even remember the last time we’d hung out together, just the two of us. Which wasn’t that surprising because you’d think her and Paul were conjoined twins or something, plus she so obviously prefers Veronique to me even though you’d have to be a complete mentalist to do that. That’s my latest theory. That Dylan and Shona and their crowd are all addled in the head. Why else would anyone actually want to spend quality time with that witch?

  Anyway, I digress. It was really hot, the sun was glaring down and I was glad I’d smothered myself in sunblock before I left the house. It was way too hot to wear anything more than a loose cotton dress, definitely no man-made fibres.

  Trying to put off the icky situation a bit longer, I stopped to buy an ice cream from the van at the park gates, but there was no escape, Shona was waiting for me by the bridge and I tried to casually stroll towards her like her phone call hadn’t freaked the hell out of me.

  ‘Hey,’ she said pensively.

  ‘Hey,’ I replied through a mouthful of Mr Whippy. We walked around the lake and made polite conversation about the band and Shona’s job at a web design company. This used to be the girl who I could talk about anything with and now we were having serious problems trying to sustain a five-minute conversation.

  I couldn’t bear it any longer.

  ‘What’s all this about, Shona?’ I asked her. ‘We haven’t spoken in months so something must be wrong if you suddenly need to talk to me.’

  Shona pulled a face. ‘Let’s get out of the sun.’ Shona always reckons she has Eskimo blood in her veins. She is the whitest person I’ve ever seen, apart from, like, Goths, so I pointed to a bench under the shade of a willow tree.

  ‘Let’s go and sit down.’

  I looked at her curiously as she sat down. Even though it was easily ninety degrees, Shona was wearing a big baggy jumper. Obviously my mentalist theory had been bang on the money.

  ‘Aren’t you hot?’ I said.

  There was a pause. ‘No…’ The pause carried on for several millennia, while I tilted my head and waited expectantly, which was actually not a good choice of word because finally she blurted out: ‘I’m pregnant.’

  ‘What?’ I hadn’t been expecting that.

  ‘I’m two weeks late, Edie, and I’m usually regular to, like, the minute,’ Shona said bitterly.

  ‘Oh,’ I was stumped for what to say. ‘So are you and Paul pleased?’

  She gave me a furious look. ‘Do I look pleased? I’m twenty, I’ve just started my career, I’m still living with my parents. I think it’s safe to say that I’m not exactly jumping for joy.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I muttered. ‘How did it happen?’

  ‘How do you think it happened?’

  I blushed. ‘I know how it happened but I thought you were using some protection.’

  Shona slumped on the bench. ‘The condom split and I didn’t have time to get any emergency contraception with work and stuff. I thought it would be all right.’

  She looked so utterly miserable sat there that even though we’d stopped hanging out I put an arm around her. ‘Shona, it’ll be all right,’ I said. ‘Paul loves you to death…’

  She twisted out of my hug. ‘It won’t be all right. He won’t talk about it; he just pretends that it isn’t happening. I can’t talk to him about whether I’m going to have a termination or keep it or anything. He changes the subject.’

  ‘Maybe you could talk to Dylan, get him to have a word with Paul,’ I suggested nervously, not really wanting to mention the D word.

  ‘I don’t want to talk to Dylan about it… boy… girl stuff, urgh,’ Shona tailed off. ‘I wondered whether you’d talk to Paul.’

  ‘Me?’ I squeaked. ‘Why me?’

  ‘’Cause you’re a disinterested third party,’ said Shona. ‘And Paul’s always liked you.’

  Which was news to me because I only ever thought of Paul in terms of someone else. First he’d been Dylan’s mate and then he’d been Shona’s boyfriend. ‘Well I’ve always liked him too but, God, I haven’t spoken to him in months,’ I pointed out. ‘I wouldn’t even know what to say to him.’

  ‘Look, you just go round to their flat, pretend you need to see Carter or something and then mention that you’ve bumped into me and you’re worried about me and you think—’

  ‘You’ve thought this all out, haven’t you?’ I interrupted. ‘You want me to go and tell your boyfriend that you’re upset about, that… I mean, what do you actually think I could say to him that would make any difference?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ snarled Shona. ‘You think if I knew what to do I’d ever have phoned you?’

  I could feel icy shivers tracing a path down my spine. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ I asked.

  ‘Well, Edie, you haven’t really been much of a friend in the past have you?’ said Shona. ‘You treated Dylan like hell when you were going out with him, you tried to split up his relationship with Veronique even though you could see that they were happy and then you stop talking to me because I actually had the audacity to be friends with Dylan’s girlfriend.’

  It was like having a bucket of cold water thrown in my face. Yeah, those were the barest of bare facts but that wasn’t really what had happened. I didn’t even have the energy to argue with Shona. How could I explain to her why I’d done all the stupid, crazy things I had? And how could I tell her that Dylan had been more than agreeable when it came to sneaking around behind everyone’s backs?

  ‘You can think what you like,’ I told her quietly. ‘It’s all history now and it’s between Dylan and me anyway.’

  ‘Oh, are you going to cry now, Edie?’ taunted Shona. ‘Isn’t that what you usually do when it all gets too much?’

  ‘Maybe I’ve changed,’ I said. ‘And maybe you have too. Like, when did you become such a bitch? Look, I’m sorry that you were caught in the middle of me and Dylan and Veronique and I’m sorry that we don’t talk any more and I’m sorry that you’re pregnant but I’m not a bad person. I had my reasons for doing what I did.’

  Shona looked at me like she was seeing me for the first time. ‘You have changed,’ she said slowly. ‘You used to be really sweet.’

  ‘I’m out of here,’ I announced, standing up. ‘You’re going through stuff, I totally get that, but do whatever it is you have to do to deal and don’t sodding well take it out on me.’

  Shona caught hold of my wrist and tugged me back. ‘I’m sorry. It just makes me sad. You used to be all innocent and sparkly. It’s why I don’t hang out with you these days ’cause you never really smile any more. It’s like you’re hiding behind this wall you’ve built up.’

  Seemed like Shona still knew me a little too well. ‘No I don’t,’ I denied desperately. ‘I’m still me. I got messed over Dylan and it’s taken me a while to get over it. And I do smile. I smile all the time, but you’re just not around to see it these days.’

  I should have asked Shona about pregnancy tests and if she’d seen a doctor but all I said was, ‘So couldn’t you have asked Veronique to talk to Paul? I mean, you guys hang out all the time.’

  Shona pulled a face. ‘I don’t really want to talk about Veronique with you but she can be a little tactless sometimes and her and Paul don’t really get on.’

  ‘OK,’ I said. �
��I’ll go and see him but I’m not promising anything.’ I didn’t know why I was agreeing to this stupid plan but if you could have seen how hurt and defenceless Shona seemed, you’d have done the same thing.

  3rd August

  If I’d gone to meet Shona with a heavy heart yesterday, then the walk round to the lads’ flat today was even worse. It was a crazy idea and no good could come of it, I thought as I rang on their doorbell. Shona had reckoned that Paul would be in on his own when she’d phoned earlier and thankfully she was right.

  ‘Hi Edie, Carter’s out,’ he said when he saw me standing on the doorstep. ‘Or did you come round to see Dylan? You didn’t, did you?’ he added uneasily.