Melt My Heart

by Bethany Rutter

  ‘Hit me,’ I say, trying to sound confident so Cassie doesn’t come away from this with the belief I’m completely pathetic.

  ‘Today’s new thing,’ she says, breathing deeply, closing her eyes and bringing her hands to a serene prayer stance in front of her chest, ‘is to not sabotage this. To let yourself experience this to its fullest potential. To not force yourself to drop out of the running. How does that sound?’

  ‘Scary,’ I say, grimacing. ‘But I can’t argue with the Law of New Things.’ Half of me is nervous about daring to dream that someone like Cal might be into me. Half of me is excited that someone’s given me the licence to dream.

  ‘That’s my girl.’

  ‘Well,’ I say, smiling, ‘I ain’t no one else’s.’

  Cassie’s looking in the mirror over the sink, applying a deep berry lipstick. ‘Jack’s kind of cute, right? I’m not completely losing it, am I?’

  ‘He’s definitely cute,’ I reassure her, though he isn’t a patch on Cal if you ask me.

  She rubs her lips together and drops her lipstick back in her bag. ‘Good. This is a fun little twist and I’m here for it. Let’s get to it.’

  When we get back to the table, Jack and Cal are huddled in conversation and our drinks are waiting for us. I let it all in. I let myself sneak glances at Cal as we drink and chat. I let myself maybe flirt with him a little. I let my leg brush against his under the table. I don’t take myself out of the running.

  And when Cassie announces it’s her round and that she’s going to get us all another drink whether we like it or not, Jack leaps to his feet and trots after her like a lovesick puppy. Leaving me deliciously alone with Cal.

  We sit in weighted silence for a moment before Cal stands up and walks round to my side of the table, to Cassie’s vacated seat. Next to me. ‘This is a fun night,’ he says, looking out at the pub garden. He’s so close I can hear him breathing. Feel the warmth of his body. ‘I wasn’t sure what it was going to be like because I dragged Jack out post-brutal dumping, but he seems to be hitting it off with your friend.’

  ‘Yeah, I guess,’ I say, slightly unsure. Whatever was going on between Cassie and Jack, she usually needs a little more convincing than just talking to someone over a couple of drinks. She’s normally much more fussy – I feel like maybe she’s only going along with the Jack thing to encourage me to try it out with Cal. It’s unlikely to stick.

  ‘And … I think you’re pretty great,’ he says. My heart leaps, my brain unsure what to do with this directness. I blush.

  ‘Well, who doesn’t?’ I say with a confidence I’m trying on for size.

  ‘I think you’re pretty great and also just … pretty,’ Cal says, turning to face me and moving a little closer. He’s got a clean, warm, cottony scent. Nothing artificial, no cheap body spray, just himself. I can’t help but grin. It’s not like I never meet guys, but it’s not something I take for granted. Most boys my age are kind of pathetic about the way girls look and sometimes that makes it hard for me to fully own my body, even though I know there’s nothing wrong with me.

  ‘Would it be OK if I …’ Cal pauses. ‘Kissed you?’

  I let out a small involuntary gasp that I hope isn’t audible over the noise of the Crown on a Friday. But I start to feel reassured: he likes me. I am in control, I tell myself. ‘Yes, that would be … more than OK.’

  He brings his hand to the back of my head and slowly, deliberately, kisses me. Soft and warm and comfortable but exciting, too. We pull apart before kissing again and in the brief seconds between kisses when I open my eyes and look at him I think, Wow, yes, you really are gorgeous.

  ‘Do you understand how good-looking you are?’ I hear a voice say as I’m gazing into his eyes. My hand flies to my mouth, eyes wide in horror, as I realize the voice was mine. No! No! No! I was meant to be in control! I feel my cheeks burning but he’s not backing away in fear.

  ‘Ha!’ Cal crows in delight. ‘You’re not so bad yourself. You’re all … I don’t know, kind of serious-looking? I like it. And those freckles.’

  I don’t say anything, just gulp down whatever idiotic thought I was about to come out with next. ‘Wow,’ I finally manage, quietly. Suddenly emboldened by his words, I turn my face up towards him and kiss him again.

  But in the back of my mind, something in me hopes that Cassie doesn’t come back while we’re kissing.

  Finally, we pull apart and I can’t help but let out a nervous laugh, covering my face with my hands so he can’t see how much I’m smiling, until finally Cassie and Jack return from the bar with two drinks each. Cassie raises her eyebrows at me like she knows what’s happened.

  I pass the rest of the evening in a daze. I can’t quite get my head around the fact that Cal went for me. In a whole pub full of girls. A whole town full of girls. He has a perfect smile, high, wide cheekbones, an easy confidence. And he went for me. First. Not second. First. I never thought it could be so easy to meet someone who’s not freaked out about my body.

  After midnight, a scrawny teen boy prowls through the pub garden collecting glasses and telling us to move inside and drink up. Grudgingly we comply. As we walk inside, I realize Cassie and Jack have hung back, and when I look back over my shoulder, I see their bodies pressed together under the heat lamp, in a drunken, messy kiss. Huh, Cassie must be more drunk than I thought. I reach out for Cal’s hand. He smiles warmly.

  ‘So … can I get your number?’ Cal asks shyly as we sit in an empty booth inside to finish our drinks.

  I sigh nonchalantly, holding my hand out in front of me and examining my nails, as if gorgeous guys ask me this every day. ‘Oh, I suppose so,’ I say, glowing on the inside while trying not to blush. I dictate the number to him and he drop-calls me so I have his.

  ‘Not to be too forward, but … do you want to meet up tomorrow night?’ Something about Cal makes me feel so good. He’s kind. And cute. So of course I say yes.

  Before long, Cassie and Jack make an appearance.

  ‘So, where to now?’ Cassie asks as we step out into the mild July night.

  ‘Are you serious? I’m exhausted after a whole day’s work!’ I gawp at her.

  ‘Yeah, I’m pretty tired,’ says Cal, smiling. ‘But I’ll see you tomorrow, Lily?’

  ‘Yeah, tomorrow,’ I reply.

  ‘We could always go to the Lighthouse if you don’t want to go home, Cass?’ Jack asks optimistically. No one calls her Cass, not even me. For some reason, she doesn’t correct him. ‘I think it’s open later than the Crown. Or we could try one of the old man pubs down the high street? Or maybe we could go see what’s on at work?’

  ‘Oh yeah, I just realized, after all that – we don’t even know what you guys do?’ Cassie furrows her brow and takes a sip from the rose-gold water bottle she keeps in her bag (‘Gotta stay hydrated!’ she likes to remind me).

  ‘We,’ says Cal, throwing his arm around Jack just as I take a sip from the water bottle Cassie’s offered me, ‘work at the Coronet.’

  I splutter out a spray of water and pretend I was overcome by a sudden urge to cough. ‘The cinema?’ I ask, even though I know that it’s definitely the cinema. Blue eyes. Cool accent. Works at the cinema. Oh. No. Oh no no no.

  ‘Yeah,’ says Jack, misinterpreting my reaction as some kind of judgement on his work. ‘It’s not so bad. Tonight I got to sit in on a screening.’

  I have done a bad thing.

  ‘While I had no such luck and was stuck on the main till with a broken drinks machine. Friday night’s meant to be a big night for neon frozen beverages!’ Cal throws his hands in the air in defeat.

  There’s no two ways about it: Cal is definitely Daisy’s crush.

  ‘Can you get us in for free?’ Cassie asks optimistically, but I’m not really listening. Daisy likes Cal. She’s been after him for so long. But he’s here … with me. I can’t stop turning it all over in my mind. He chose me, not Daisy. Maybe he didn’t know that Daisy’s been flirting with him all year? Or maybe he
does, and he would just rather go out with me? I can’t possibly still go out with him, right? WHAT IF DAISY FOUND OUT?!

  Jack shrugs. ‘Why not! So, what do you say, Lighthouse for one more?’

  I give Cassie a look – he’s keen.

  ‘Sure,’ Cassie says with a grin. ‘I’ll text you, Lily!’

  With that, they’re off. I’m left standing here with that head-spinning want for Cal, that tug of guilt that he’s Daisy’s crush, and that tiny little streak of pride that he chose me.

  ‘Well … I’ll see you tomorrow, right?’ Cal says, taking my hand and wrapping it around his waist like he knew I would be too shy to do it myself.

  ‘Right,’ I mumble, looking into his eyes. One last kiss before I go. Just one more. I’ll figure this whole thing out when I’m more sober.

  The lights are on at home as I walk up the path. I open the door gently and close it behind me almost silently, slipping my shoes off so I can pad up the stairs undetected.

  ‘Lily!’ I hear Daisy whisper sharply from the kitchen as I’m reaching the top of the stairs. I pretend I don’t hear her. I brush my teeth and look at myself in the mirror and through the guilt and the white toothpaste foam, a smile breaks through.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  I wake up feeling slightly hungover with that classic foggy headache and dry mouth. I definitely can’t keep this up all summer. I roll over and check my phone, flicking through the confusing memories of last night on Cassie’s Instagram story. Just a few pictures from before Cal and Jack joined us. I put my phone back on charge and snuggle into my duvet. That stomach-jolt of joy at the sight of Cal’s smile … the memory of that kiss. I feel a rush of excitement and then a pang of guilt when I hear the short vibration of my phone, and without even looking at it I feel sure it’s Cal. I pick it back up. An unknown number. It must be him.

  Fish + chips tonight? 7 at the good place? Just promise me you won’t be a typical Brit and make me say ‘fish and chips’ because you think my accent is silly!

  I know where he means. Even though it’s a seaside town and there are loads of places to eat fish and chips, there’s only one that’s good. Really good. Crunchy, crispy, golden kind of good. Fish that’s structurally flaky but somehow still juicy kind of good. Chips that are fluffy in the middle and fried to perfection on the outside kind of good. It makes you wonder how anyone could get it wrong.

  I instantly start typing my reply, unable to conceal my enthusiasm. But then … I think it through. A cloud of anxiety settles over me. The thought of going out with Daisy’s crush is a strange new world, but surely she deserves to know? If he really is – whisper it – interested in me, I should tell her so she doesn’t spend the rest of the summer hanging around the cinema waiting for her chance to talk to him. She’s my twin! Maybe now’s the time our twin telepathy will come in handy and I won’t have to tell her at all. Or maybe that means I do have to tell her because she’ll definitely guess otherwise.

  But also … it’s only one little date. It might come to nothing, and what’s the point of causing trouble with Daisy over one date? Maybe he’ll be a horrible misogynist or announce he hates all art! Then there’s no need to tell her and no need to make things awkward and difficult before we go to uni. Anyway, he’ll probably realize that society is right and he’s much too good for me and that’ll be the end of it. Or maybe he’ll actually notice Daisy at the Coronet and then this whole thing can unfold the way everyone would expect it to, right?

  I guess in that case … I should make hay while the sun shines. Enjoy it while it lasts. Enjoy being wanted, uncomplicatedly. Enjoy the attention of someone smart and compassionate enough to see things on their own terms, their view unclouded by beauty standards based on ideas that should have been thrown in the bin centuries ago. That’s it. I’ll go on one tiny little date, and if it goes well enough, I’ll tell Daisy then. Finally, I reply.

  I’ll be there!

  At that moment, Daisy bursts into my room like a snotty tornado, sniffing horribly. ‘Lily!’ she wails. Oh god, have I been found out so soon? What kind of whisper network is going on in this town?! ‘I’m sorry, but I couldn’t wait any longer and it’s your fault anyway because you always leave the hay-fever medicine in your room as if I don’t need to use it too,’ she fumes, foraging around on my dressing table for the white box of antihistamines. Phew. Hay-fever. We are equally afflicted. I just routinely forget to leave the communal medicine in a communal location.

  ‘And good morning to you, twin sister of mine!’ I throw my arms up triumphantly as she locates the medicine.

  Daisy rests a tablet on her tongue and sits down on my bed, reaching for a glass of last night’s water. She downs it and grimaces as she realizes it’s hours old.

  ‘You’ll feel better in no time,’ I say, taking one myself. I pick up my phone again and text Cassie.

  Hope you got home ok!

  Alive and well. Last night was fun! Maybe we can DOUBLE DATE!!!!

  I guess that means she’s planning on seeing Jack again.

  Right now I’m focusing on a SINGLE DATE and I’m already stressed about what to wear so can you plsssssssssss be my stylist later?

  Omg I literally thought you would never ask. I’ll FaceTime you like 6?

  ‘Did you have fun last night?’ Daisy asks, stroking Crystal who has padded her way onto the bed and is sitting in the hollow of Daisy’s crossed legs.

  ‘Yeah, it was good. Just normal. Just me and Cassie at the pub,’ I say, shrugging. ‘How about you? Was the shark film good? And by “good” I mean, like, in any way watchable or even vaguely entertaining?’

  ‘For your information, it wasn’t a shark, it was a crocodile. Sharks are very passé. And besides, the film was just a convenient excuse!’ I feel relieved she hasn’t mentioned seeing Cal. ‘I saw my crush!’ Damn.

  ‘Oh yeah?’ I ask, remaining carefully casual.

  ‘Yeeeees.’ She smiles, raising her eyebrows and running a finger through Crystal’s fur. ‘He definitely smiled at me.’

  ‘Are you sure he doesn’t just smile at everyone?’ I say, thinking of his generally sunny and charming nature.

  ‘Well, no, of course I’m not.’ Daisy rolls her eyes. ‘But I’m not completely stupid, I can tell what’s going on. And I felt like there was some kind of connection, you know?’

  ‘You’re probably right!’ I say. When I think about it, it’s not out of the question that if Cal likes me he could also be making eyes at my sister. It’s actually quite likely, in fact, since everyone seems to imply that I’m the inferior copy of her. But I can’t think like that. I have to just … live in the moment.

  ‘Maybe I am. I think I’m going to ask for his number next time I see him …’ Daisy gets up and starts prowling around the room, surveying my stuff, looking at the pictures on the walls, most of which I’ve drawn or painted, as if she hasn’t been in here a thousand times before.

  ‘Godspeed,’ I say, nodding sagely and hoping my cheeks aren’t as red as they feel. I have a horrible vision of her asking him out at the cinema in front of her friends after hyping herself up to talk to him for months, only to get rejected. As much as I want him for myself, the thought of that makes me feel sick for her. I should say something. I should at least try to save her possible embarrassment. But how?

  Daisy catches a glimpse of herself in the full-length mirror leaning against the wall. She stands at an angle, craning her neck. ‘Do you think my thighs have got smaller?’

  I make sure my face reads ‘unimpressed’ in case Daisy’s glancing in my direction, but inside I’m squirming with discomfort. Any time she says something like this it reminds me she’s looking at me with exactly the same gaze.

  She runs a hand over them proudly. ‘I think they have. Definitely.’

  She resumes her prowl. That interlude probably meant nothing to her but I’ll be thinking about it all day. Wondering if Daisy looks at my body the way she looks at hers.

  ‘This one’s my favourite
,’ she says suddenly, breaking me out of my thoughts. She bends slightly to look at a picture just below eye-level.

  ‘The watercolour of Gran’s garden?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘That’s your favourite of all the stuff I’ve done?’ I ask, a little incredulously. It’s just a watercolour the size of a postcard, faithfully replicating the layout, the flowers, the way the light hits the garden in the afternoon.

  ‘Yeah,’ Daisy says, stepping back to survey it in context. ‘And of all the stuff on this wall as well.’

  ‘You know there are paintings on there by, like, real people? Like Georgia O’Keeffe and Lee Krasner,’ I say, smiling.

  ‘I’m not saying it’s better than those paintings, I’m just saying I like it more. Isn’t art supposed to be subjective?’ Daisy huffs, and I feel sorry for teasing her. She’s only being kind. ‘I don’t know what “better” even means, all I can tell you is that it’s my favourite thing that I see here.’

  ‘Well, thank you …’ I mutter.

  ‘Anyway, I gotta bounce. My shift at the garden centre starts in an hour.’

  ‘Don’t have too much fun,’ I say as she heads out.

  She stops at the door and turns back to look at the room. ‘You really do paint the things you love so well. It’s like you bring out something in them that makes people see how you see things. I guess when you go to uni, you’ll find a whole bunch of new stuff to love and you’ll paint those too. Maybe I’ll like those more than the painting of Gran’s garden … but I doubt it.’ And with that, she leaves.

  I sit on my bed, a little lump in my throat. It’s weird having someone in your life who understands you perfectly, whether you like it or not.

  Will I have time to paint or even just draw when I’m at university in September? And even if I have time, will I have space? Where would I do it? And what would be the point if I’m studying art history anyway? I’ll probably have essays to write and things to do. The reading list is as long as my arm so maybe I’ll just stop painting as soon as I leave home and never do it again. I thought I would feel inhibited if I went to the same university as Daisy, but it’s possible that she motivates me in ways I might not motivate myself.