by Beth Garrod
Man. This was stressful. And now I was dwelling on how mastication sounded like a word that really wasn’t helpful to have in my head in this situation.
“So what’s happening, Bella?” His mum prompted me for an answer.
I’m desperately trying to think about words that don’t rhyme with mastication.
“Erm…?” I took a politely small mouthful of food. And regretted it. Were my eyes watering? Had I used my waterproof mascara?!
“You’re heading down earlier than Adam, aren’t you? He’s got exams until Friday.”
I nodded. “Yup, I finished today.” I was heading down tomorrow, a day before it started, to do my first shift with Tegan.
Dadam jumped in. “And how did they go?”
I grinned. Time for the safe ground of a mum joke. “Well, the main thing is, they went?!”
Only Adam and Lewis laughed. Their parents just looked at each other, unimpressed.
“That’s the thing with all these extracurricular activities…” His dad stared at his plate like he’d never seen beans before. “Revising is always the last thing on the list.”
Was that directed at me or Adam?
Adam rolled his eyes. “C’mon, guys. Enough nagging already.”
His mum didn’t get the memo.
“In fifteen years’ time, what’s going to matter more? Your results or…” She looked at me, as if I’d back her up. “Girls?”
OOF.
I thought they were slagging off his band practice, but they were slagging off me. To my face.
“MUM!” Adam was properly annoyed. “I’ve hardly spent any time with ‘girls’, as you so nicely put it.”
By “girls” he did mean me, right?! Was I now a plural?
“And I’m NE. VAH. going along with the stupid phone box thing when I’m older.” Lewis looked over at a wooden box on the side, a label stuck on it that said “NO ACCESS BETWEEN 7–10”. They’d been confiscating Adam’s phone?! The humanity! “We’re not both as much of a pushover as Ad.”
Adam went to flick a bean at his brother, but his dad saw and he instantly stopped.
Still, at least I now knew why he’d never invited me round before and had been weirdly absent lately. He had the world’s most terrifying parents on his back.
“So as you were saying, Bella.” Adam stressed my name to shut his parents out and move the convo on. “Tell everyone about the amazing festival thing you’re pulling off…”
Mustn’t react to him saying “pulling off”.
“Oh…” Game face back on. Prove that both Adam and I were fine at life. “Just the world’s most gross band are acting like sexist pigs. So my friends and I are trying to get them to own up to it and stop treating their fans like rubbish. At the very least we want an apology.”
Adam looked so proud, it almost brought tears to my eyes. To join the ones that were already there thanks to this meal, which was hotter than the sun.
“Bell’s got a petition and everything. She might get them kicked off the bill!”
Should I take the hint and follow through with the brag? I looked at Adam’s sexy proud face. Yes I should.
“We’ve got over eleven hundred signatures already.” Tegan had updated me on the latest figure just before I arrived.
Adam’s dad looked … impressed. YAS ME.
“Well, good work, you. Bands like that don’t deserve a place on the stage.” We finally had common ground! “Not when you have wonderful artists like The Session playing.”
Oh.
Should I tell him that is the exact band I was trying to stop?!
“I’ve seen them live FIVE times. Got their albums on lockdown.” I had no idea what that meant but he said it like it was a cool, current word that I should be impressed by. “Such vibes.” I swear I heard him using a z instead of an s.
So this was the midlife crisis Adam had warned me about? Adam looked mortified. I stifled any form of reaction by taking another mouthful of the chilli (which was the least chilly thing I’d ever tasted and should really be called “hotti”). I was now sweating with the heat.
I dabbed my eye with the material napkin they’d laid out (so posh! At home we mainly used loo roll). But when I put it back down, it had black on it. Oh god, had I smudged my eyeliner?
I tried to kick Adam’s ankle under the table. Did I look like a panda?
He mouthed: “You OK?”
I used my knuckle to discreetly point up to my eye. But I still had hold of my fork, and instead of being subtle, flicked an extra-large bean across the table and into my water. It splash-landed with a massive plop.
Adam’s family stopped chewing and looked towards my glass. I grabbed it and tried to chug the rogue bean down before they spotted it.
But I was still mid-chew. And as I swallowed, I accidentally forced a bit of food down the wrong throat compartment.
Oh. My. Chilli. Bean.
I couldn’t breathe.
I tried to inhale.
Nothing.
I tried to exhale.
Nothing.
I made the sound of a sink emptying.
Still nothing.
I didn’t want to cause a scene – but the alternative was death (and surely that would be a bigger scene?!).
What could I do?
My breathing stopped for so long that my body decided for me. My hands hit the table, as if the force might dislodge the bean.
Nothing.
The colour drained from Adam’s face as he realized what was happening.
“Oh my god – she’s choking.”
I could feel my eyes actually bulging, blood rushing to my face.
Yes, I was facing a “dying on Adam’s parents’ floor” situation, and my focus should be survival, but part of me still found time to be horrified by what a good look this wasn’t.
Lewis’s mouth was hanging wide open. Full mastication on show.
NO BRAIN NO! NOT THAT WORD AGAIN!
When other people died their lives rushed before them.
My final moments were going to be thinking about not thinking about that?!
Adam was whacking me on the back. I was dimly aware his mum was screeching things like “Bend forward”, and “Ring 999”.
Life felt like an alternate reality. I felt hands grip round my ribcage, lifting me into a standing position.
With a massive pump, they pulled me back.
Air rushed into my lungs.
The bean rushed into the air.
I felt invincible!
Until the killer bean landed right on Adam’s mum’s plate, making an actual ping as it landed.
I could breathe!
I was alive!
Nothing else mattered!
Although…
Yes it did. Was it OK that I was now very much in a backwards-cuddle formation with Adam’s actual dad?
I disengaged and spun round to say thanks, make this less awkward. Which absolutely failed as I brushed my left boob straight into his hand. He looked shell-shocked (by the choking and the boob). As did everyone.
“I am SO sorry!” I was a sweaty, black-eyed mess but Adam broke the PDA rule and gave me a massive hug. Quietly, we returned to our seats, except Lewis, who hadn’t moved and was still staring at me, chewing slowly.
“That. Was. Epic.”
I had to try and regain some dignity. Win back some girlfriend points. “All’s well that ends well.” Did that sound vague and adult enough?
He pointed his fork at my head. “You’ve still got some rice there.”
“Oh. No. That’s an old spot.” Maybe I should have just thought that.
It was time to scrape the conversation barrel. Bring out an emergency maths fact. “Did anyone know that if you write out pi to two decimal places and reflect it in a mirror it says ‘pie’?”
“I did not,” muttered Adam’s mum. And slowly we polite-conversationed to the max and finished up the world’s most awkward meal. Although it only took half an hour, it felt
like four weeks.
It wasn’t until I was on the doorstep to leave that I got another much-needed cuddle from Adam.
“Sorry that wasn’t exactly the most fun evening ever.” He kissed my forehead (carefully avoiding rice/spot). It did kind of make it better – although the slight waft of chilli in his T-shirt gave me PTSD. “Now you get why I always come to yours, right?”
I nodded, not needing him to explain anything. With perfect timing, my mum arrived in her car, singing along way too loudly to the pan pipe CD which was stuck in the stereo. She waved at us both, genuinely happy to see us.
I hugged him goodbye. “I had a nice time.” I lied as best I could, but I wanted him to know I was on his team. “Thanks for inviting me.”
“Thanks for not dying.”
I shrug-laughed. “Any time.”
“Hopefully all the time please…” He took both my hands in his. “You know I think you’re ace, right?”
Well, this alone almost made tonight’s near-death worth it. Plus it was the perfect opportunity to tell him how I felt too.
That I really, really, really liked him. Maybe even more-than-liked him.
Could I tell him?
“Thanks.” No, I couldn’t. “And good luck in your exam on Friday.”
He had no idea that behind my smile I was silently screaming at myself for being a wimp.
“More like good luck with the petition! And your first shift tomoz. Can’t wait to see you there!”
I couldn’t wait to see him either, even if he was having to miss the first half of the proper first day. After an awkward cheek-kiss in case his parents were watching, I waved bye and got in the car.
Mum stroked my face. “So how was it, chickadee?”
She looked so positive and excited I couldn’t tell her about bean-gate and burst her bubble.
“Eventful…”
She didn’t press me further, and as we drove off, I zoned out as she chatted about all the packing I needed to do tonight, letting my mind drift into the horror of the inevitable post-meal analysis that would be happening in Adam’s kitchen.
I had made quite the first impression.
And from the way his parents had said goodbye, my suspicion was, if they got their way, it would also be my last.
CHAPTER
NINE
“So let me get this straight.” Tegan pushed the trolley round Tesco while I tried to perch on the end. “You spat on his mum’s plate, accidentally placed your, er, breasticle in his dad’s hand, then almost choked to death in front of the entire fam?”
I shrugged. “That’s about it, yeah.” She nodded, letting the story seep in as we turned down a new aisle. We had £23.21 between us for all food and drinks to buy for the festival – and it had to last from this afternoon to Monday morning. Five days. Four whole nights.
We could only afford necessities. Tegan had gone for fruit. Vegetables. Water. I’d thrown in a Haribo and Jaffa Cakes. She could always rely on me to cover the most important food groups. Snacks and nibbles.
“On the way out, I tried to convince them I wasn’t a total lost cause by redeeming myself with some hardcore geography chat but accidentally called it the Specific Ocean.”
Last night’s sleep had done me good.
Given me perspective.
Perspective that I could never see ANY OF ADAM’S FAMILY EVER AGAIN.
But today wasn’t about moping. It was about getting ready for the weekend of our lives. The only bummer was Rach couldn’t join us, as she was out with her dad at Shire Hill Shopping Centre, getting some festival clothes. She was going to meet us there on Friday morning, when RebelRocks opened to the public.
I did an involuntary upper-body happiness shimmy as Tegan turned us down the loo roll aisle.
I jumped down and threw in some wet wipes. I also grabbed a twelve-pack of extra-value loo roll, just as Tesco Matt Healy walked past the end of the aisle. He waved at me, box in hand. I waved back.
“Nice bog roll.” He grinned.
“Nice.” I looked at what he was carrying. Just my luck. It was always mozzarella with him. “Balls.” An old man shot me a weird look. “CHEESE BALLS.”
TMH smiled, a whole heap less fazed by me than in the early days. We didn’t really chat as much now nothing had happened with him and Rach, but it was always nice to see him. His attention switched as a group of girls walked up to him, hugging him like they were old friends. They all had perfect hairstyles, and outfits that made them look like they were some sort of Insta squad. I lost natural control of my limbs as I realized who they were. Our MGC. Of course they were close friends with TMH, aka, the most eligible man in supermarket history.
“Teeg,” I hissed. “Loooook.”
She was mildly appreciative of this in-the-wild spotting. Even though they only seemed to be buying … I strained to see … a butternut squash (of course it would be an experimental vegetable), they looked like they were having the time of their lives.
They must have sensed a dishevelled girl frozen to the spot, clutching loo roll and staring at them, because Blue Hair looked over.
GULP. I didn’t want her to think I was obsessed with her and was totally staring (I was). I dropped the loo rolls in the trolley and grabbed the nearest thing off the shelf. Toilet unblocker. Amazing.
“So, Teeg.” I tried to put it back without anyone noticing. “You reckon we’re at two thousand signatures yet?”
Last night while I’d been choking at/on Fadam’s family, Tegan and Rach had put in a sterling effort emailing, posting and tagging anyone and everyone to support the petition.
“1,876. So we need 124 before we set off.”
The response had been MAJOR. And had made us even more determined. Our plan was to email the organizers and the local paper and radio station as soon as we hit two thousand. They wanted to keep thousands of people happy? Well, we were going to show them thousands they’d made incredibly unhappy. Then they’d HAVE to take us seriously – unlike the band, who were reposting our stuff along with snarky comments. And snowflake GIFs.
But we only had four hours before we had to leave – not much time.
“Sooooo, let’s get home and get back on it.” Tegan peered in the trolley. “Have we got everything?”
We looked at the list. The only thing we didn’t have was Coco Pops and toothpaste. We headed to the health and beauty aisle and I grabbed a tiny travel-sized tube of Colgate. I was worried how cute I found it.
“19p?! Done.” I gave Tegan a knowing look. “Sure you don’t need…” I gestured to the family planning area. “Anything?” I was enjoying going full my-mum on her, now Mikey had a ticket too. His mate Big Ben (he was 5’3”, people are mean) had got glandular fever – bad for him, great for Mikey getting his ticket.
Teeg raised an eyebrow. “If you mean condoms –” AS IF SHE COULD CALMLY SAY THAT WORD IN PUBLIC. SHE KNEW I WAS MORE COMFORTABLE WITH PEENCOAT “– I’m all sorted, thanks. Mikey grabbed some yesterday.”
Mind.
Blown.
How was my best mate someone who could calmly say these contraceptive-based facts as if they were NBD?! And how could Mikey and Teeg talk about it openly enough that she already knew he had some?!
Terrible. Thought. WAS IT BECAUSE THEY WERE PLANNING TO USE THEM THIS WEEKEND?
But… but Tegan and I were sharing a tent?! This was too much horror for one brain.
“Teeg, please explain why I’M the one blushing?”
But we both knew they’d done it – Teeg admitted it after an intense two-week investigation by Rach and me. Despite sharing every single detail of our lives, Mikey and Tegan’s, er, private life was just that. She was too protective of Mikey, of all of us, to share details.
Teeg shrugged, not taking my bait. “’Cos you’re terrible at dealing with normal life things like –” she grabbed an extra-large pack off the shelf and read the label “– extra endurance condoms for maximum duration and pleassssssure.” She threw them straight at me. I l
eapt back, like if I touched them they would somehow trigger a virgin alarm to go off. But instead of hitting me, they hit the floor and high-speed-slid into a foot. That belonged to an old man.
PLEASE NO.
He picked them up and studied them. I grabbed Tegan’s hand. But what happened next was more alarming.
He smiled, put them in his basket and walked off.
Jaw. Drop.
“Maaaaan, even his OA-Peen is getting more action than me?!”
Tegan put her arm round me. We’d talked about this loads. It wasn’t that Adam and I had decided we should. Or shouldn’t. It was just we’d never ever talked about it either way.
And what with his brother always being at his house, and my mum not understanding the concept of a-door-being-closed-meaning-maybe-you-shouldn’t-just-walk-straight-in, we’d never been in a situation where anything more than snogging could have happened. Until now.
My secret relief was that because Adam was performing, he was going to be in a different camping area to us, so at least I’d dodge any weird discussions about if we wanted to sleep together. In a tent sense. Or any sense.
“And does that bother you?”
I didn’t know how to answer. Tegan thought I should take the pressure off myself. That it was no big deal (although maybe that’s an easier thing to think when you’ve already dealt with it?). That if Adam and I weren’t ready to chat about it, we probably weren’t ready to do it.
“Uh, I dunno.” I shrugged, weirdly awkward about the whole thing. “Guess it’s probably not the right convo for here anyway.”
She gave me a squeeze. “Well, we have alllll weekend. And I mean that literally, as we’ll be awake practically 24/7. Those shifts start EARLY.”
She wasn’t wrong. And we needed to get going so we didn’t miss our litter-picking crew induction.
We were meant to get the bus home, but our shopping was so heavy that I had to beg Mum to pick us up. It didn’t exactly bode well for carrying it all across multiple fields later, but we’d cross that bridge (and multiple fields) when we came to it.
As soon as we got back home Mum started to get emosh. “Your first festival! Such a special time! I still remember mine…” She said it like how other parents might get sentimental at their children’s first day of school. She brushed my cheek with the back of her hand. “I left some essentials on your bed.” The thought of what Mum considered essential made me shudder. Panicked in case she went into detail, I made our excuses, and pulled Tegan upstairs. Turns out Mum’s festival “essentials” consisted of a sachet of cystitis relief drink, some diarrhoea tablets and a pack of vegan jelly that went off in November 2015. Now running late, I packed up all the non-essentials (pants, hairbrush, socks, etc.) as Tegan got on her phone for last minute signature-hustling for the petition, while simultaneously shouting out the packing list she’d made to help us (I knew she meant “me” but was too nice to say).
