Diary of a Crush: French Kiss (4 page)

Luckily, a gang of secretarial trainees came in and she had to let me go but the whole thing left me very trembly.

I’d just about recovered and pushed the door open when I saw Shona walking down the corridor, and she blanked me! I thought that maybe she hadn’t seen me and I ran and caught up with her.

‘Hey you,’ I said brightly and then took a step back as Shona shot me a venomous look. ‘What’s wrong?’ I said.

‘What’s wrong? What’s wrong?’ she repeated with disbelief. ‘What’s wrong is that I’ve been hanging out with a two-faced bitch like you!’ She flounced off in the direction of the art block and I went to another bathroom and sat on the toilet seat and cried until it was time for French. I think everyone must be on drugs. I don’t know what’s going on. It seemed like the whole college was pointing at me and whispering. To top it all, I saw Dylan on my way to the bus-stop and he looked at me like I’d just crawled out of a primordial swamp.

I got home and had a huge hissy fit at the ’rents about moving to this hideous town in the first place but it didn’t really make me feel better.

I used to love the weekends when we lived in Brighton. From Friday evening to Sunday night, I’d be out of the house and hanging with my friends. I was part of a gang of people that cared about me. This weekend, I barely came out of my room. I mostly slumped on the bed, cuddling Pudding until even she got bored and miaowed indignantly until I let her out.

I spent the whole weekend either moping, gazing at that stupid photo of Dylan or phoning Shona only to have my calls roll to voicemail. Yeah, right. I know that this icky mess is all Dylan’s fault.

I was definitely at the back of the queue when they were handing out common sense.

I’d spent so long having these confrontation fantasies in my head about exactly what I was going to say to Dylan that I completely forgot all the very good reasons (about 147 of them at the last count) why I shouldn’t corner him in a deserted studio at lunch-time.

The really sarcastic little speech that I’d prepared flew out of my head and I screamed and swore at him. Oh sweet baby Jesus, I was a total harpy!

‘You’re just an arrogant jerk who thinks he can play around with my heart just for something to do,’ was one of the not-so-highlights of it. I even stamped my foot a couple of times. The more angry I got, the more choked up and snotty-nosed I became while Dylan sat there looking utterly horrified. Then I burst into tears properly and ran out. Sometimes I think that I suffer from arrested mental development.

I made it as far as the patch of ground by the kitchens where the bins are, before Dylan caught up with me. One moment I was running as fast as I could, the next he’d grabbed me by the shoulders and hauled me round to face him. Of course, I was struggling and flailing about like someone had emptied a packet of itching powder into my knickers but then I became aware of how tightly Dylan was holding me and I went still.

‘God, just stop it,’ he said and his voice was all strained. ‘Calm down.’ And he was looking at me like he really cared about me and then he stroked one long finger down my hot face and I knew he was going to kiss me. I
knew
it. It was even better than before. We melted into each other. He kissed me so hard and so long that time seemed to freeze around us.

After that we went for a walk in the park
and he held my hand
. Really held it. And every now and again, he’d squeeze my fingers. It was primo hand-holding. But I was still really mad at him. And he said, ‘Edie, there’s all this complicated stuff going on that I need to clear up.’

So I asked, ‘You mean, before we can be together?’

He crinkled his eyes at me like he was seeing me for the first time and then he muttered, ‘I don’t want you to get hurt.’ People always say that when they’re about to hurt you.

It was the hardest thing that I’ve ever done but I just said in a small, tight voice, ‘Well, when you’re done with all these games, maybe you’ll let me know.’ I turned and walked away and I forced myself not to look back.

I think I felt worse, if that was possible, after that. I wish I’d never come here. Nat and Trent are the only people who speak to me. Shona acts as if I’m an icky piece of ick she’s found at the bottom of her bag. Even though I hear whispers, I walk the corridors with my head up and my shoulders straight, even though deep inside I’m cringing. But it’s hard. It’s really hard. It’s
too
hard.

Nat and Trent had a fight today. Nat pinched the last chip from Trent’s plate. Trent stormed off and Nat went all sulky. I walked him round the park and we talked about finding a cure for boy disease.

Eventually after I’d been banging on and on about you-know-who for half an hour at least, Nat said, ‘Edie you’ve got to let it go.’ But really he was telling me to let Dylan go and I just can’t do that. Even though Dylan seems to carry a huge amount of emotional baggage around with him, I can’t suddenly forget the feel of his kisses and those rare moments when we really seem to…
connect
.

Then, talk of the devil, Dylan walked past our park bench. He was wearing his scuffed-up suede jacket and jeans. He glanced at me and then quickly looked away like he didn’t even know me. Which I am so sick of. Is that all it’s ever going to be? That he kisses me senseless then ignores me?

I was going to bunk Photography but I bumped into Martyn. Luckily he wanted me to help him set up a slide projector and operate the clicker so I kept away from Dylan all lesson. But at the end, as I walked past him, he seized my wrist.

‘I want a word with you,’ he hissed.

‘What?’

‘Saw you getting cosy with Nat in the park,’ he said, his face flushing.

‘Why, are you jealous?’ I had the guts to say, before tugging my arm away and walking off.

He has no right to start acting like he cares about what I do with my life.

Mum let me take the day off college so we could go to Selfridges in the Trafford Centre to pick up stuff for my newly-decorated room. We had a blazing row in soft furnishings ’cause she reckoned that the Cath Kidston shabby-chic cushions I wanted were too expensive. Then she got all weepy about me leaving home to go to university in, like, two years and let me choose this cool café for lunch. I was just investigating the inside of my jacket potato when all the hairs on the back of my neck prickled as if someone was watching me. I swivelled round to see Dylan staring at me from another table.

My mum was wittering on about something and Dylan lifted up his coffee cup and gave me an ironic salute. It was awful. Mum wouldn’t shut up and I was terrified/desperate (still haven’t decided which) for Dylan to come over. I persuaded her to let me go off for half an hour.

As I walked out of the door, I knew Dylan was following me. My heart was beating really fast as he drew level with me and pulled me into an alley. We both reached for each other and then we were kissing like it was the end of the world. By the time I pulled away my lips were sore.

‘You’re just a kiss slut,’ he sneered and then walked off.

What a creep! I caught up with him and punched him on the shoulder so hard that I yowled and had to suck on my knuckles because they hurt. Dylan turned round and looked at me with that horrible smirky expression of his that I hate but it disappeared pretty quickly when I shouted, ‘Stay the hell out of my life!’ right in his face. And the weird thing is that for about five minutes I really meant it, but as I wandered off, all quivery and tearful, to M&S to find The Mothership, I was like, what was I thinking of?

I refused to go to college today. I just can’t face Dylan because I’ll want to kiss him. And I can’t face Shona ’cause she doesn’t want to be my friend any more. And I can’t face Mia because she’s a demon from the seventh layer of hell.

I had my ‘teen angst, do not disturb’ face on, so Mum didn’t argue when I slumped in front of
Daybreak
and refused to budge.

Skived off college again. Mum asked if I was ill and I was just like, ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ But later her and Dad ganged up on me and I got the whole, ‘You know you can talk to us about anything’ routine. They’ve got to be joking.

I managed to muster the energy to go to college. It was either that or face another lecture. I wore all black because it matched my mood and walked around with a scowl on my face as if to say, ‘OK, you losers, so you don’t like me? So what?’

I saw Dylan sitting in the canteen with Simon and Paul. I sat with my back to him, so I wasn’t even tempted to look. Then the strangest thing happened. Mia suddenly plonked herself down next to me and started chatting as if we were the best of friends. I was so shocked I could barely speak. She was blathering on about some band that were playing on the weekend when I interrupted her. ‘Uh, last time I saw you, you practically tried to beat me up.’

She didn’t bat an eyelid. ‘I was only mucking about. Anyway I heard on the vine that you and Dylan were finished.’

I smiled sweetly even though I felt like throttling her. ‘And who said we ever got started?’

‘But I thought…’ Hah! That took the smarmy smile off her face.

‘A few sloppy kisses doesn’t make a relationship,’ I snapped. ‘So are you going to tell me why you’ve been slagging me off to the entire college?’

She had the grace to look embarrassed about that. ‘Oh. Dylan and I have got unfinished business and there’s all this stuff going on with Paul and Shona and me.’

‘What are you talking about, Mia?’

She smiled nastily. ‘Oh, Edie finally gets a clue! Everyone knows that Dylan and I had this really heavy thing going until Paul totally fell in love with me. Dylan was absolutely gutted but he understood that he had to let me go but Shona has this stupid crush on Paul. She, like, tries to throw herself at him and he’s beyond mortified and just wants her off his back. So I told her you weren’t really into Dylan, you were just using him to get close to Paul, so she’d come after you instead. Like, he walked you home once, didn’t he?’

‘YOU DID WHAT?’ I screamed at her. I didn’t even care that the whole canteen could hear.

‘Clever wasn’t it?’

I was overcome with a murderous rage. I yanked her out of the chair by her lapels. She stopped looking so smug.

‘You evil cow,’ I hissed at her. ‘Thanks for ruining my life.’ I suddenly let go of her and she sank back into her seat.

‘You’re mad,’ she sneered. ‘As if Dylan’d fancy a kid like you. He just wanted to make me jealous. He told me that you’d be all right once puberty kicked in and…’

‘Why don’t you shut the hell up, Mia,’ said Dylan from somewhere behind me.

I turned round to glare at him. He glared right back at me. In my head I see him in soft focus but when he’s standing in front of me he’s all hard lines and angles.

‘I was only letting Edie know the gossip,’ Mia laughed. ‘She told me some interesting things about you too. Like, you’re a “sloppy kisser”…’

I got out of there. Sharpish.

Everything makes sense now. How could I have been so stupid? I love Dylan. Dylan loves Mia. Mia loves Paul. So does Shona. But what really hurts is that Dylan’s been stringing me along; using me to make Mia jealous. I just want to curl up and die. I can’t bear to feel like this. I told Mum that I wasn’t going back to college. I’d have to do A-levels with a home tutor or something. She was yelling at me and I was storming upstairs and yelling back when the doorbell rang. Mum answered it while I carried on shouting.

‘It’s for you, Edie,’ Mum snapped. ‘Stop acting like a three-year-old and come downstairs.’

Mothers must take special lessons in humiliating their offspring ’cause when I looked round Dylan was standing on the doorstep.

I felt all my blood rush down to my toes and I steadied myself on the banister.

‘Tell him to come back when I’ve reached puberty,’ I screeched in an incredibly mature fashion before running into my bedroom and slamming the door.

I was so busy crying that I didn’t hear a gentle tapping on the door, but I did hear Dylan when he called: ‘Edie! Are you all right? Can I come in?’

I wanted him to go. To turn around and go down the stairs and walk out of my life and never come back. I also really wanted to be able to stop crying. There’s always such a lot of mucus involved.

‘Come on, Edie. Are you going to let me in?’ Dylan called softly again.

I was frozen to the spot, or rather, I pulled a pillow over my head. What was Mum thinking of? She wouldn’t even let my five-year-old boy cousin into my room and now she’d invited Dylan up. I staggered up off the bed, where I’d collapsed, and half-heartedly checked my reflection in the mirror. I looked revolting like a big cosmetics company had been squirting shampoo in my eyes or something. What’s more, I was in my pyjama bottoms and a holey jumper.

There was another gentle knock and with a deep sigh I opened the door an inch and peered through the crack at Dylan. He shifted awkwardly. Dylan was embarrassed. That had to be a first.

‘What do you want?’ I asked icily.

‘Hey, don’t be so snotty.’ He gave me
that
look. The one where he arches his left eyebrow and smiles crookedly. He didn’t exactly push his way in, but all of a sudden he was there in my room. Then he sat on the edge of my bed and it was like the weirdest thing.
Dylan was in my room! Sitting on my bed! In my room on my bed!

I stayed standing. I couldn’t look at him. It was just too freaky to have him sitting there. But Dylan obviously thought that my silence was because I was still mad at him (which was kinda half true).

‘I never said that to Mia,’ he said fiercely. ‘Y’know the stuff about puberty. You’re one of the coolest girls I know.’

I could feel myself going red. ‘Whatever! Like I can believe a word that either of you say,’ I snapped.

He tugged at my hand and pulled me towards him, so I was sort of sitting on the bed and sort of sitting on his lap. If my mum walked in, she was going to have a
fit
.