Because of Her

by KE Payne

  Parting with Amy was so bittersweet. She was my final link with the northeast, and a small part of me would always love her because of that. But now London was my home. I was glad of that. I now knew that going back to Cragthorne would feel like a backward step.

  I also knew that the one other change in my life I really wanted, I could never have. Despite that, all I wanted to do was run from the cafe and go find Eden.

  Chapter Thirty

  “Tabitha?” My father’s voice shouting up the stairs was an unwelcome distraction from my thoughts.

  It was the next day. Sunday. I’d dropped Amy off at King’s Cross the previous afternoon, both of us promising to text one another, both of us apparently relieved—each for our different reasons—that it was over. And that had been that. Two years together, and her face in her departing train’s window was the last thing I saw of her. Or would ever see of her again, I supposed.

  I’d spent the rest of that evening and a huge chunk of the next morning, too, figuring out what my next move would be. Would I tell Eden? Would it make a difference to her if I did?

  “Tabitha? I know you’re up there.”

  My father was many things. Patient wasn’t one of them.

  “Tabitha!”

  Sighing, I swung my legs off my bed and stood up. I was exasperated that my daydreaming bubble had been popped by his persistence. I’d have to go right back to the beginning of my ruminations once I returned to my bedroom if I was to get my train of thought back on track again.

  “Yes?” I leant over the banister and peered down towards my father.

  “Why do you have to skulk up in your room all the time?” He was standing at the bottom of the stairs, one foot on the bottom step. I had half a mind to ask him why, if he was able to put one foot on the stairs, he couldn’t have then carried on and put his feet on the other eighteen steps and come up to see me. Rather than me get off my bed to see him. But I didn’t.

  “I wasn’t skulking,” I said. “I was thinking.”

  “About?”

  “Stuff.”

  “Fine.” He gave me a look. “Right, well I just wanted to tell you that your mother and I have booked tickets for the theatre for Friday night,” he said, still looking up at me. “So you’ll have to fend for yourself, okay?”

  “More freebies?” I grinned down.

  “We paid for these,” my father said impatiently.

  “And you called me from my room to tell me that because…?”

  “Because, while I’m perfectly happy to let you fend for yourself, your mother wants to know if there’s anything you’d like her to get in for your dinner, because she’ll be going out tomorrow and can get it then.” He crossed his arms. “So?”

  “Nah, I’m good.” I leant further over the banister. “I’ll get pizza in.” I stopped, a thought coming into my head the second I mentioned pizza.

  “Dad?”

  “Mm?”

  “Can I have a friend over on Friday night?”

  “To come here?” My father looked taken aback.

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you have homework this weekend?” he asked.

  “It’s just one night, Dad. Jeez.”

  “Fair enough.” He turned to go. “Who’s coming?”

  “Eden,” I said. “I thought I’d ask her if she’d like to come over for pizza and a DVD.”

  “Eden?” he asked, suddenly interested. “The girl I met before?”

  “Mm. Her.”

  The change in my father’s attitude at the mention of Eden was so split-second, it was all I could do not to laugh. His natural snobbery, having lain dormant for all of a few days now, surfaced with such speed, I was surprised he didn’t choke.

  “Of course you can,” he said, smiling up the stairs to me. “Does she eat pizza?”

  “Fuck’s sake…” I muttered under my breath. “Yes,” I snapped. “She eats pizza.”

  I stood up from leaning on the banister and made to go back to my room.

  “Tabitha?” my father called up, still from the bottom of the stairs.

  “Yup?”

  “I think Eden’s a very nice friend for you to have,” he said. “I like her.”

  “Yes. You said before. When you met her that time.” I poked my head back over the banister and grinned down to him, my grumpiness now well and truly gone. “But thanks. She’s neat, yeah.”

  *

  “So, anyway, my parents are going out. Ed’s already told me he won’t be around, so that means I get the house to myself for the first time since we moved here.” I watched as the others in the lab grabbed coats and bags and began filing out, our biology lesson over.

  “So invite her over, then,” Libby said, ripping a corner of paper from her pad and using it as a bookmark in one of her textbooks. “Tonight’s homework,” she explained. “Buggered if I’ll remember the page number by the time I get home.”

  “You think she’ll come?” I asked. “I’ve been dithering since Sunday about whether to ask her or not.” I looked over to Eden.

  Don’t go.

  “I nearly asked her at fencing last night,” I continued, “but chickened out at the last minute.”

  “Do it.” Libby stood, putting her coat on. “Invite her. You do want her over, don’t you?”

  “Yes and no,” I said. “I’d give anything just to have her to myself for an evening, but…”

  “But?”

  “I’m scared,” I said miserably.

  “Scared of what?”

  “Scared that the more time I spend with her, the more I’m going to fall for her,” I said. “Especially now I’m not with Amy.”

  “I think you’ve fallen too far already to turn back.” Libby put her hand on my arm. “So just enjoy being with her—as a friend if necessary. Surely being with her in any capacity has got to be better than nothing?”

  “I guess,” I said.

  “Just ask her already.” Libby picked up her bag. “Before she leaves the room. If you don’t, I will.”

  “Don’t you dare.” I glared at Libby.

  “Right, I’m done for the day.” Libby pushed her chair back under the bench. “Text me tonight, yeah? You can tell me what she said when you ask her. Because you will ask her, won’t you?”

  “Sure.” I pulled my chair forward so Libby could pass behind me. Gabby, then Beth, stood and made for the door, while Eden remained seated. She gathered her pens up and put them into her bag.

  “I’ll see you down there,” I heard Eden say to Beth. She stood and closed her books.

  “You not coming with us?” Beth hugged her textbooks to her chest.

  “I’ll catch up,” Eden said. “Gimme two seconds.”

  I lingered at the back of the room, watching the pair of them, then packed my own bag, deliberately taking my time. Finally Beth left the room, and at last it was just me and Eden.

  “How’re you?” Eden sauntered towards the back of the room, her bag strung diagonally across her shoulders, her hands in her jeans pockets. She lowered her voice. “You were quiet at fencing last night. Everything all right?”

  “Hey.” I tried to look surprised and casual and nonchalant and calm all at the same time, even though my heart was racing. “I’ve had a lot on my mind this week,” I lied. “Assignments and stuff, you know.” I stood up.

  We looked at one another, neither of us speaking.

  Looks pretty damned good from where I’m standing…

  Her voice flooded my head. That was what she’d said, wasn’t it?

  Why did you say that, Eden?

  “And Amy finished with me.” It was out before I realized it.

  A shadow flickered over Eden’s face. What was it? Surprise? Interest?

  “I’m sorry,” she said. She hesitated. “When?”

  “Saturday.”

  “You didn’t say anything last night.” Concern this time.

  “No.” I hesitated. “I’m still getting used to the idea myself.”

&n
bsp; “Are you okay?” Eden asked.

  “I’ll live.” I stared down at the floor.

  She turned to leave. “Well, if you want to talk about stuff,” she said, “you’ve got my number.”

  Courage swept through me. It was now or never. If I didn’t ask her over on Friday then I’d regret it, I just knew. I liked Eden, I was free, and I wanted to hang out with her. Where was the harm in that?

  “I’m glad I’ve seen you, actually,” I said.

  “Yeah?” She stood in front of me, hands still in her pockets.

  “I was supposed to be having a DVD night with Ed on Friday, because my parents are going out to the theatre,” I lied, my heart pounding. “But Ed being Ed, he got a better offer.”

  I shifted the weight from one foot to the other. “I asked Libby over,” I said, “but she’s busy. And Greg.” I was shocked at how easily the lies left my mouth. “So I just wondered if you fancied coming over?” I asked. “I’ll get pizza in.” My cheeks flamed. “No worries if you can’t, though.”

  “Am I fourth choice?” She was teasing. Nice.

  “No, of course not.” Why wouldn’t my damn face cool down?

  “Friday?” Eden asked.

  “Mm.”

  “And pizza, you say?”

  “Pepperoni, if you want.”

  “My favourite.”

  “I know.” My eyes skimmed hers.

  “Sounds awesome,” Eden said. “I’d love to. Thanks.”

  “For real?” A twinge in the pit of my stomach. “Well, great. That’s great.”

  “I’ll bring some wine, if you like.” Eden leant her hip against my bench, her hands still in her pockets. “You like wine, don’t you?”

  “Love it,” I lied again. I was more a beer kind of girl.

  “Any particular type?” Eden asked.

  “Of wine?” I asked, immediately feeling stupid. Of course she meant wine.

  “Mm.” Eden’s lips twitched in amusement.

  “Red,” I blurted. “Or white. I’m not fussy.”

  “Good,” Eden said. “Let me know tomorrow what time I can come over, yeah?”

  “Sure.”

  Eden opened her mouth to speak, but Gabby’s voice behind her stopped her. She sprang back from me in an instant.

  “There you are.” Gabby leant her head in through the lab door. “What’re you doing?”

  Eden swung around. “I told Beth I’d only be a minute.”

  Gabby floated curious eyes from Eden to me, and back again.

  “We’re waiting for you,” she said to Eden.

  “I’m coming.” Eden was immediately anxious. On edge. Without another word to me, she turned and zigzagged round the benches towards Gabby.

  But if I thought I was already forgotten to her, I was wrong. Slinging a casual arm around Gabby as they both left the lab, Eden looked back over her shoulder at me, giving me one last fleeting smile before she disappeared from my view.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  “And then she was all, I’ll bring the wine, and it took every ounce of self-restraint not to leap across the bench and grab her,” I said, smiling to myself at the memory.

  “You like wine that much, do you?” Libby jabbed her straw into the top of her drink carton and sucked on it.

  “You’re hilarious, you know that?”

  It was Thursday morning. Nineteen hours and fifteen sweet minutes since Eden had told me she’d be coming to my house to share pepperoni pizza and a DVD with me. Now I was in the canteen with Libby, still floating on an Eden-shaped cloud of happiness.

  “So your hesitation in asking her over soon passed, then?” Libby looked at me in amusement.

  “You told me to do it,” I said, lowering my voice as two boys walked past our table.

  “Only because I couldn’t stand to see you pining away over her in front of my very eyes.” Libby stirred her hot chocolate, then handed me her spoon so I could stir mine.

  “Listen, don’t expect too much, yeah?” she continued. “She doesn’t know how psyched you are that she’s coming over because she doesn’t know that you’re lusting after her like—”

  “Like Pepé Le Pew? Please don’t compare me to a French skunk again. You’ll give me a complex.” I stirred my drink, then tapped the spoon on the side of the mug. “I’m not expecting anything, Lib. I’m just stoked that she said yes, and I plan on having a great evening with her and enjoying her company.”

  “And her wine,” Libby interrupted.

  “And her wine,” I repeated, “And to just…have fun hanging out with her.”

  The familiar grating, booming voice of Gabby rang out from across the canteen as she came in with Eden. Think buffalo in mineshaft. Only worse. And louder.

  My eyes followed Eden. She wasn’t looking my way.

  “As a friend,” Libby said.

  “Huh?”

  “Hanging out with her as a friend,” Libby repeated. “You forgot that last bit.”

  “Yeah. Whatever.” I looked over to see the two of them heading for their usual table over the other side of the canteen from us, my eyes following them as Gabby wrapped her arm around Eden. A sting of envy nipped at me. She said something to Eden, making her laugh out loud and jokingly throw Gabby’s arm from her. Then they sat down, each one with a large polystyrene cup of some hot drink, and huddled towards one another, deep in conversation.

  “Why do they irritate me so much?” Libby followed my gaze to the other side of the canteen.

  “You still don’t like Eden?” My heart fell. “After everything I’ve told you about her?”

  “Jury’s still out.” Libby’s face contorted as Gabby let out a shriek of laughter that echoed round the canteen. “Sorry.” At least she did look apologetic.

  “You should try and get to know her. Like I have,” I said. “You’ll see. She’s so not like the other two.”

  “Maybe I’ll get my chance right now.” Libby lowered her voice. “She’s coming over.”

  Blood rushed inside my ears at Libby’s words, and I surreptitiously dragged my fingertips through my hair in an attempt to make it look tidier. Eden was making her way towards us, through the maze of tables and chairs. My heart jumped at the sincerity of her smile when we finally made eye contact.

  “I’m glad I caught you.” She stopped at the side of our table and stood, thumbs hitched into her jeans pockets. “Hey, Libby.”

  “All right?” Libby sat back in her chair, her arms folded across her chest.

  “Can we take a rain check on tomorrow night?” Eden said, turning to face me. “I just realized I’m busy that night.”

  “Oh.” I looked to Libby then back to Eden. “Okay.”

  “I already had something planned and I completely forgot about it,” Eden said. “I’m so stupid sometimes. I’m really sorry.”

  Libby made a small, sniffing sound—discreet, but audible enough for both me and Eden to catch.

  “No worries,” I said, trying to ignore the acute disappointment stabbing at me. “Another time, yeah?”

  “Sure,” Eden said. “Another time.” She stepped back from our table. “I better go. See you later maybe?”

  She left before I’d answered, and headed back over to where Gabby was still sitting, now with Beth. I watched her walking from me, but seeing Gabby looking straight at me, I immediately looked away.

  Was that it? No other explanation?

  I was utterly deflated. All the happiness I’d felt over the last however many hours since Eden had told me she’d love to come over had just been sucked out of me. What was the point?

  “That’s a bummer.” Libby dipped her head, trying to catch my eye.

  “Understatement of the year,” I said. “And, what? She just suddenly remembered that she had something else on?”

  “Whatever it is, it must be important,” Libby replied. Very diplomatic.

  “Well I’m not asking her again, Lib,” I said. “It took every ounce of courage to ask her in the first place,
and now I feel like crap.”

  “I thought you said you had a sudden raging torrent of confidence yesterday when you asked her, and that nothing was going to stop you?” Libby asked.

  “It didn’t,” I said. “But it just became a whimpering trickle, so I’m not asking her again.” I gathered up my hot chocolate and cradled it in my hands. “I got pepperoni pizza in as well. Her favourite.” I blew across the top of the mug. “Did I already tell you that?”

  “Just a few times.” Libby grinned. “You know I’d come over and hang out with you Friday if I didn’t have the dreaded grandmother coming over, don’t you?”

  “Bring her over, too,” I said gloomily. “Pizza feeds four, apparently.” I sipped at my chocolate. “Do you think Eden knows I like her? Do you think they know?” I nodded over towards the three of them. “Is that why she cancelled on me? ’Cos she wants to keep her distance?”

  “Dunno,” Libby replied. Helpful.

  “I don’t know how she can’t tell.” I sighed. “I don’t think I’ve been hiding it very well lately.”

  “Look,” Libby said, “you’re not gonna like this, okay? But I think you’re reading way too much into why she’s not coming over tomorrow.”

  “You think?”

  “Yuh-huh.” Libby nodded. “And I can totally understand why Eden wouldn’t think twice about cancelling.”

  “Enlighten me.”

  “Because to her, you’re her friend, right?” Libby offered.

  “Guess so.”

  “A mate.”

  “Mm.” That was more of a grunt than an answer from me.

  “To Eden, you’re just plain old Tabby who she does biology and philosophy with,” Libby continued.

  “Plain? Old?”

  “Metaphorically.” Libby put down her mug. “You’re just the girl she fences with once a week who makes a nice change from Gobby One and Gobby Two. Someone else she can talk to. That’s all. Nothing more.”

  “But her comment the other week?” I asked, frustrated. “People who just want to be friends don’t say stuff like that.”