I lay back on top of the covers and try to think about what my life will look like by the end of the summer. No Daisy, no Mum, no cottage, no sea. No Cassie. Everything has been so solidly the same for so long that I don’t know what different will feel like. Maybe I should have stuck to the original plan and gone to uni with Daisy because then at least I would have her. But I can’t think about that now. I can’t think about how stupid it was for me to decide that everyone else was right, and that I needed to be independent before thinking through everything that meant leaving behind.
And it’s happening again. Something dark is swirling around in my brain and clutching at my heart. I can feel heat rising to my head and tingling in my hands, my breath catching in my throat. I sit up on my bed and try to breathe deeply to steady myself. It feels like there’s an elephant sitting on my chest and covering my mouth. I’m trapped inside a bubble with no air. I want to text Cal and cancel seeing him later but I don’t want to let this thing win. I’m just sick of it flaring up and crashing into my day like a … well, an elephant. I just need to ride it out. Not let it get the better of me. Not let it ruin my whole day. Shove it to the side until the next time.
Desperate to focus my mind on something other than everything, I stick my hand under my bed and pull out my small sketchbook and the clanging tin of soft pencils. I take a deep breath and look out of the window. I draw, in big, gestural strokes at first, the view of the garden of the house behind ours, over the hedge. And then I move up to the back of their house and sketch the outline of the building and then the windows and doors and then the bricks and the windowpanes and the creeping green-black ivy. Of course, I can’t make it green-black with my steely graphite pencils but I can darken it, add depth where there’s a short little shadow of the house projecting itself onto the patio. I can control this picture. Whether it’s good or bad, lifelike or unrecognizable. It’s my work, I invented it. And that gives me a degree of calm, which is exactly what I need right now. Focus on the page, not on what’s inside my head. Not on the date tonight.
Cassie FaceTimes me at six o’clock on the dot.
‘I’m here, babe, what do you need?’ she asks as she settles into a comfy position on her bed, leaning against her headboard and giving me her full attention.
‘Outfit advice.’ I hold up my first suggestion, a tight black T-shirt and ripped jeans.
‘Aren’t you gonna put it on?’
‘Alright then,’ I say, flipping the phone over so she can’t see me change.
‘Oi! It’s dark in here!’ I can hear her saying through the phone’s speaker as I put the outfit on.
I hold the front-facing camera at arm’s length to show her before resting it against a pile of books to liberate my hands. ‘It’s a good start,’ she says, ‘but I’m feeling like I want cute for you, like I want romantic for you, you know? This is quite sexy, which is obviously hot, but I just feel like romance is the one right now.’
‘Uhhh …’ I say, rummaging through the coat hangers in my wardrobe.
‘What about that?’ Cassie asks. ‘That yellow thing!’
‘This?’ I pull out a lemon-yellow tea dress that I like to wear with my beaten-up (formerly) white trainers.
‘Extremely Beauty and the Beast with your dark hair,’ Cassie says, nibbling on a Dorito.
‘An inspired suggestion,’ I say, trying it on. Huh, I think, checking myself out in my full-length mirror. Not too bad.
I hold the phone up again. ‘My mind!’ Cassie yelps. ‘This is the one!’
‘I think you’re right, you know! Ugh, where would I be without you?’
‘You’d be just fine, I promise. Anyway, how are you feeling? Confident? Dare I say … sexy?’ Cassie asks, optimistically.
I let out a sigh and flop onto the bed. ‘I don’t know, man … I’m nervous!’
‘You already know he likes you!’
‘That’s the weird part – at least if he was being kinda cagey, kinda meh, I would know what to do with it. I have this horrible feeling it’s some kind of elaborate prank,’ I say, my anxiety overriding the knowledge that Cal has been nothing but kind and forthcoming. Not to mention hot.
‘That would be a frankly bizarre amount of effort for a prank, mate.’
‘I guess … he doesn’t really seem like he would do that, does he?’
‘Nope. And more importantly, he is not too good for you! This all makes perfect sense! It only doesn’t make sense if you believe that everything narrow-minded people say is true.’
‘I’ve been brainwashed. It is brainwashing, isn’t it? This whole thing. This belief that some people are, like, better than others,’ I say.
‘You know it! You’re literally one hundred per cent prepared for this date: banging outfit, sparkling smile, and extremely keen boy who also happens to be extremely hot. Now, sort your life out and go show Daisy what you’re wearing for that final smidgen of approval.’
I’m on the verge of telling Cassie about Cal being Daisy’s crush, but I hold back. ‘Daisy’s out,’ I say with a shrug. I feel like she wouldn’t approve of my date this evening if she knew Cal was Daisy’s crush. I know she wouldn’t.
‘Well you can show off when she’s back. Don’t worry so much! You’re going to have fun and do today’s new thing: go on a date with someone you actually like,’ she urges before we say our goodbyes, frantic kisses sent towards the screen. Yeah, I guess that would be a new thing. Or would not telling Cassie about Cal be the ‘new thing’? Oh god.
As soon as we hang up I realize that I don’t know what to do about a jacket and in the space of one second my mind flips through a choose-your-own-adventure story. Hear me out: even though it’s a hot summer day, as soon as the sun goes down it gets cold. So I don’t want to be cold. But if I take a jacket, that will mean I have no excuse to do that cute-romantic-girl thing of taking his jacket, should he offer it. But also, what if all this happens and I take his jacket and obviously it doesn’t fit? But also, it’s not like he doesn’t know I’m fat, so if he did give me his jacket I could just casually drape it over my shoulders … wow, I’m really getting in deep with all of this. No jacket.
As if I haven’t thought quite enough about my date outfit choices, I’m about to pick up a tube of red lipstick to swipe over my lips when I pause and wonder if he’ll take that as a signal that I don’t want to kiss him. I go for the sweet beigey-pink that makes my lips seem even fuller, look in the mirror, and feel genuinely happy with what I see.
I pick up my phone and, stomach churning, save Cal’s number under ‘C’. Just in case Daisy sees it. I wonder if that makes it look even more suspicious … but I can’t risk it. Well, I guess that’s tipped me over into straight-up lying. Not something I ever thought I’d do with Daisy. But just one date – then I’ll deal with it. There probably won’t be anything to deal with. It’s just one date and that’ll be the end of it.
‘Lily!’ Mum calls from the corridor, before entering my room. ‘This book is actually really good, I— Well don’t you look nice!’
She’s holding yet another thriller in her hand. She will literally read anything as long as it has an element of suspense, and then she complains about how there are no good thrillers anymore and then she goes and buys another one.
I deflect again. ‘I’d heard that book was good!’
‘I mean you can never tell until the end,’ she says, effectively distracted, ‘but this one bodes well. I don’t think it’s going to turn out that a ghost was the murderer!’ Daisy and I have rarely seen our mum more furious than when she read her most unsatisfying thriller ever, something she refers to often and with great bitterness.
‘I don’t know if me and Daisy could live through that again, let alone you.’
‘So what are you up to today? Plans with Cassie?’ she asks. ‘I love that dress on you!’
‘Thanks, Mum. No, not today … um …’ I realize I haven’t quite processed it myself yet. The concept of going on a date. It feels faintly
embarrassing to make something of it, even though I’m used to sharing stuff with my mum. Plus, I’ve got to make sure nothing too interesting-sounding gets back to Daisy. I go for vagueness. ‘I’m meeting someone tonight.’ Of course, there is nothing so interesting as vagueness when it’s phrased like this.
Mum snaps her book shut with a big grin. ‘Someone is a very non-specific word!’
‘Just someone I met last night when I was out with Cassie …’ I say, blushing. ‘We’re only going to the good fish and chips place, it’s nothing serious. Don’t worry about it, Mum.’
‘I’m not worried! I’m delighted! Not that there’s anything wrong with leaving things a bit later,’ she adds, hastily.
‘It’s not like I’m forty!’ I say, defensively. Daisy has had various boyfriends on and off for the past few years, and our mum has always remained very hands-off about the fact that I haven’t. Which I appreciate. I don’t need to be reminded. I don’t particularly want to do a deep dive into my psyche or hear someone tell me my romantic life would just magically improve if I was thin or whatever. I like my body despite the fact that everyone else constantly compares me with Daisy and then lets me know when they find me lacking. It’s nice that my mum has just let me be.
‘No, of course not.’ She rolls her eyes at me. ‘I’m not going to be bugging you about it, don’t worry. I just think it’s nice.’
I sigh. ‘Thank you.’
‘And is this somebody …’ She raises her eyebrows as if she wants me to finish her sentence, but I don’t actually know what she’s asking. ‘A … boy?’
‘Yes,’ I say.
‘Well, I don’t want to assume! It would be worse if I assumed!’
‘I guess,’ I say with a shrug, feeling uncomfortable about the whole conversation now. But no time for that! I’ve got to stay focused on the task at hand. A date! A whole date! A real, actual date, like in the movies. Not loitering by the war memorial drinking cans. Me, going on a real date. It almost sounds too good to be true. ‘Hey, Mum …’ Daisy would maybe find my Summer of New Things silly, but I feel like my mum would get it.
‘Yes?’
‘I’m doing this … thing. I’m trying to do something new every day. Not necessarily something huge. But just … something. A Summer of New Things.’ I blush. It sounds a bit crazy when I say it out loud.
‘Oh, I love that!’ Mum says, stroking my hair. She sighs. ‘It’s the time for it, isn’t it? Big changes around here.’ She looks around, as if she’s trying to figure out what it’ll look like with me and Daisy gone, all our stuff gone, the house all quiet.
‘Yeah.’ I smile weakly, as if I think it’s a good thing. An exciting thing.
‘I’ve been thinking, maybe I should try something new too …’ Mum says. ‘Maybe try to meet someone. Maybe it’s time to give it a go. Maybe it can be my Summer of New Things, too.’
‘I like this for you!’
‘I like it for me, too. Now, go, go, go! I don’t want to hold you up!’
I’m barely at the end of the road when Daisy rounds the corner on her way home from work and almost knocks me over.
‘Huh! You look nice!’ Daisy exclaims, only a little incredulously before squinting at my lips. ‘Is that my Peachy Cream lipstick you’re wearing?’
‘No, actually, it’s mine! It’s Blossom Rose, anyway.’ For the sake of not getting stressed out before my date with Cal, I resist the urge to ask why me looking nice has to have something to do with her and can’t be, you know, an organic phenomenon.
‘Fine, but if it’s not there when I get back there’s going to be trouble. Where are you off to, anyway?’
‘Nowhere.’ I shrug nonchalantly, before realizing that ‘nowhere’ is not a satisfying answer and I will absolutely have to give her something. ‘Just meeting an old friend I bumped into at the pub last night.’
‘Oooh! A non-Cassie friend! I approve.’ She gasps, so delighted that she’s verging on patronizing. ‘You’ll have to tell me all about her when you’re home, I don’t want to detain you.’ And with that, she gives me an encouraging pat on the butt and runs off home.
I don’t feel good about skirting around the truth.
As I walk into town to meet Cal at Little Lane Fish Shop, a Dickensian-looking structure on a pedestrianized street far too tiny for cars to get down, I realize that I’m excited rather than nervous about seeing him. I thought I had to be nervous because it’s a date, but really I’m just looking forward to it. I know we’re going to have a good time.
I see him before he sees me, which gives me an opportunity to scope out how he’s looking. Which is, generally speaking, even cuter than I remember from last night. He’s wearing a teal-coloured check shirt like a lumberjack and black jeans with trainers.
‘Hey!’ Cal greets me a little shyly, like he can’t tell whether he’s meant to hug me or kiss me or both or neither so we end up doing this hideous hug-kiss-handshake.
‘Hey,’ I say, trying to let the cringe subside. ‘Let me get this? Just tell me what you want and I’ll sort it.’
Cal frowns at me. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Yeah! I’m feeling generous today,’ I tell him, infused with the good feeling he seems to provoke. Besides, it’s only fish and chips.
I go in to order, and I realize the guy behind the counter was one of a group of guys from the boys’ school next to ours who Daisy and I would sometimes walk to school with.
‘Hi Sam! Cute little hat you’ve got there,’ I say, gesturing to the white hairnet keeping his dark curls under control.
‘Oh, hey! Yeah, it’s, uh, extremely next season.’ He smiles, baring his metallic braces. ‘It’s been a while!’
I place our order and lean against the counter while Sam scoops chips into a bag.
‘How’s Daisy?’
‘She’s fine,’ I say, although I’m really trying not to think about Daisy too much this evening. ‘Still constantly busy, always dashing off somewhere.’ I stare, fascinated, at the devilish-red saveloy sausages under the counter. ‘Hey, are you going to uni in September?’ I look up at Sam.
‘Uh, yeah,’ he says, dabbing at his forehead with the crook of his elbow. ‘Politics at Edinburgh.’ Before I can congratulate him, he asks, ‘What’s Daisy going to be up to then?’
‘Physics at Bristol, and I’m—’
‘That’s cool.’ He cuts me off, nodding sagely as he puts the paper bags into a thin plastic bag. ‘She was always into cool shit like that.’
‘I guess …’ I say.
‘That’ll be ten pounds eighty, please,’ Sam says, ringing it up on the till.
I hand over a note and a coin. ‘Thanks.’
‘Say hi to Daisy from me! Would be good to see her before we go to uni!’
‘Sure,’ I say, dropping my change into a tip jar even though I feel like Sam should be tipping me for that conversation. Thank you so much for reminding me that Daisy is the beautiful and fascinating one and I’m just … well, I’m just me.
I step outside and Cal’s gorgeous, kind, smiling face is the breath of fresh air I need right now. Sam’s idiocy would probably have bothered me more if I wasn’t on an actual date with Actual Cal. He takes the bag from me and lets it swing gently as we walk, me stealing glances at him and yes, every time, he is as cute as I remember. We make our way to the seafront, settling on a bench near the end of the pier, and look out over the sea.
‘Tell me about you,’ Cal says.
My mind goes blank as I wrack my brains for anything interesting. ‘I paint?’ I venture, somehow turning the thing I’m most passionate about into a question, as though I’m asking him if it’s interesting information.
‘Cool! What do you paint?’ He seems genuinely enthused, which is delightful.
‘Landscapes and seascapes. Places. I’m interested in colour and how you can create form with it and I always feel like nature is a good place to look for those meeting points,’ I say, and then I blush. ‘Sorry, I always find it really wei
rd talking about my painting, like it’s embarrassing or something.’
‘I bet your work’s amazing. Do you want to paint my portrait?’ He forms a frame around his face with his hands and furrows his brow seriously.
‘Ha!’
‘What? I’m not a good enough subject for you?’
‘No, it’s not that … I just don’t really do people.’
‘No?’ He looks surprised.
‘I used to,’ I reply. I chew my lip for a moment. ‘But there was something intimidating about painting portraits, like I would reveal something of myself in how I painted someone else. Like anyone who looked at the painting would find out something about me that I didn’t intend to share.’ I’m taken aback by my own words. I hadn’t planned on saying something so personal but it just came out. I glance at Cal out of the corner of my eye. He looks thoughtful, not put off.
‘I get that,’ he says, handing me the box of fish and unfurling the bag of chips. ‘We’re always looking for autobiography in people’s work. Projecting things onto it.’
‘Especially women’s work,’ I add, putting my hand in the bag and gently grazing Cal’s hand as he pulls it out.
‘Yeah, for sure.’ He looks at me straightforwardly. He’s not interested in playing any games.
‘What’s New Zealand like?’ I ask, before nibbling my chip.
‘It’s amazing, some of it looks like another planet. Very green. Lots of sheep. Lots of rain,’ he says. He looks kind of wistful and nostalgic. ‘But it feels kind of small. I mean, I guess it is kind of small. I just wanted to see something else. Meet other people. See what life is like somewhere else.’
‘Specifically Weston Bay?’
‘Ha! No, not quite that specific. I was working in a bar in London for a while but I wanted to try somewhere less … hectic before I go back. And it’s always nice to be by the sea, isn’t it?’
Melt My Heart Page 5
