Diary of a Crush: Kiss and Make Up (4 page)

‘Oh Mia,’ I said sadly, ‘I’m sorry but you and Paul, it was so messed to begin with, it couldn’t have lasted.’

Well that set her off again and my shoulder was soggy with her tears. ‘The thing with the letters, I was just being a crazy person. And then Dylan wanted to meet and I thought he was going to yell at me but he was so nice about it. You know? When he’s being sweet and understanding?’

I nodded and tried to swallow the planet-sized lump that had suddenly lodged itself in my throat.

‘And it wasn’t a “get it on” kiss, I just felt so lonely and he was there and it was a… a … 
friendly
kiss and it was my idea, not his. I swear, Edie! You and me, we’re not mates, but I never thought you and Dylan would break up over this. I thought you’d have sorted it out.’

But we hadn’t. And we couldn’t. So I started crying and getting snot on Mia’s shoulder. Then she started crying again. It was a regular weepfest.

Sometimes people that you barely know, barely even like, are the ones that get you. And for ten minutes me and Mia were soulmates. She was angsting about Paul and my heart had broken over Dylan and we were entirely on the same abandoned girlfriend wavelength.

‘So what are you and Dylan going to do?’ she asked me half an hour later, as we walked along the canal path with a Mr Whippy apiece.

‘I don’t know,’ I admitted. ‘Things had been not so good before the kiss and just bloody awful after that.’

‘But you love him, right?’

Oh God. The tears were threatening a rematch. ‘I love him but he doesn’t love me. On a good day, he might want to shag me if I was willing and that’s about it. And if you tell anyone that, I promise that I will kill you.’

When we parted in town, there was no point in saying that we’d meet up for trips to the cinema and stuff. We weren’t friends. But I don’t think Mia and I are enemies any more. And that’s actually kinda cool.

I miss Dylan.

Maybe if I told Dylan that I know what really happened with him and Mia we could get back to how we were. But he should have told me. Made the effort to make me understand, instead of getting all defensive and cold-shouldery. He said that I should trust him but shouldn’t he have trusted me with the truth? Plus, would it have freaking killed him to send me a Get Well Soon card?

So, Dylan and I live in the same town, we go to the same college and today is the first time I’ve seen him in twenty-one days. Because he’s so very obviously avoiding me. I haven’t been going to Photography because I’ve had so much work to catch up on, but Martyn put a note in my pigeonhole which said that there was no pressure but it’d be nice to see me before the end of the year.

I knew Dylan would be there, which is why I spent, like, twenty minutes putting on make-up before the class. Which is just sad and stupid especially as the effect I was going for was the natural look.

Anyway I got there late because I always get everywhere late and I sat at the back in my usual spot, right next to Dylan, Simon and Paul. When I walked in, Dylan looked up and nodded at me, then turned back to listen to Martyn.

It hurt that he did that. Like I was just some casual acquaintance instead of someone who he cared for. The night he stayed over when my parents were in Brighton, I’d woken up at one point and his hand had been resting right over my heart. Like the thump thump thump had reassured him. We’d had real intimacy and now all I got was a nod.

At the end of the class, it just became worse. As I got up to leave, I brushed past him and he turned to look at me. ‘You all right then?’ he asked.

‘I’m fine,’ I said and I walked out.

You know, I don’t think I want to keep a diary any more. What’s the point? I read back what I’ve written in here and it just makes it hurt all over again.

I don’t really like who I am at the moment, I don’t see Shona because she’s Dylan’s friend and I know I won’t be able to hang out with her and not want to know how he is. And I scuttle straight home these days, I don’t go to Fritzsch’s and I don’t go clubbing because I just can’t bear to see him. He always says hi and it’s worse than him not talking to me at all.

I’m back in Manchester and I’ve decided to keep a diary again. It was either that or walk around talking to myself all day. So summer was good, much better than I expected. The edited highlights:

I went clubbing with Nat and Trent and was just coming out of the loo when I spotted Dylan. I’d forgotten how he could make me feel just by looking at me with that half-smile of his. Except I was totally over him now and his art-boy charms no longer worked on me. As I walked calmly over to him, I certainly wasn’t thinking about how I wanted his arms around me. Not one little bit.

‘Hey you,’ I said to him, smiling because I didn’t have a care in the world.

Dylan didn’t look unpleased to see me but then he didn’t exactly look like all his birthdays had come at once. ‘Oh hey,’ he replied, tugging at the collar of his shirt. ‘So you’re back?’

‘Looks like it, doesn’t it?’ I tossed my newly-blonder hair over my shoulder and raised my eyebrows at him. ‘So how have you been?’

I was so busy trying to appear cool and yet ultimately unavailable that it seemed like a really good idea not to make eye contact with Dylan. Over the summer I’d turned him into a shorter, scrawnier, sloppily dressed version of the real thing. And now standing by the cigarette machine with the actual tall, lean and, OK, still sloppily dressed real thing was unsettling. Had his eyes always been that piercing? Or his bottom lip so full that I wanted to take it between my teeth and bite it?

I was so intent on trying not to stare at Dylan that when he took hold of my hands, I gave a start. ‘I missed you,’ he was saying. ‘I wanted to get in touch with you but then stuff came up.’

My stupid, foolish heart, which was always going to get me into trouble, stopped beating for a second. ‘What kind of stuff?’

‘Who’s this?’ said a voice behind me. I turned round to see this beautiful girl with long red hair standing, glaring at me. She sidled up to Dylan and wrapped an arm round his waist before repeating herself. ‘Who the hell is this, Dylan?’

What kind of stupid name is Veronique anyway? No-one’s called Veronique! No-one except Dylan’s
new girlfrien
d
! Yeah, that’s how much he was missing me! He was so busy pining over me that he managed to cop off with some stupid posh girl from Cheshire. I mean, whatever.

And she
so
dyes her hair.

I even tried talking to Mum today. I was that desperate. She was all like, ‘I know Dylan’s very special to you but getting over your first serious boyfriend is always hard.’ Thanks Mum, way to go.

Shona wasn’t much more help. Apparently Dylan met ‘Veronique’ on this open day at the university and she’s studying Performance Art but Shona was tight-lipped about anything else.

‘I don’t want to get involved Edie,’ she said while we were meant to be watching the new Emma Stone film
and getting tutted at for talking by this saddo man sitting behind us. ‘I’m not taking sides.’

Paul was waiting outside the cinema. They were going to some party. I wasn’t really into it but then Paul said, ‘Look, Edie, I think Dylan and Veronique (her name just gets more and more pretentious every time I hear it!) are going. It could be awkward.’

I looked to Shona for support. She put an arm round my shoulders. ‘You wouldn’t make a scene, would you, hon?’

I shrugged her off furiously. ‘Oh I see, it’s all right for Dylan to be a two-timing git and break my heart and then go out with someone else without even having a decent break-up interval but if I get upset, it’s all “Oh there’s Edie being all hysterical”,’ I screamed hysterically. ‘I don’t want to go to the stupid party anyway.’

Then I stormed off in the opposite direction to the bus stop and had to walk home.

Nat is the only one who understands. While I was away Nat and Trent split up. Trent’s off to university while Nat’s staying behind and they had this big fight about whether long-distance relationships could work.

We spend all our time together watching weepy movies and eating ice cream. I’m allowed to rant on about Dylan as long as Nat can do the same about Trent. But he doesn’t have any answers. Only questions along the lines of, ‘Why are boys so insensitive?’ and ‘How come two fabulous people like us are on our own?’

He’s like the Carrie Bradshaw of Manchester. Except gay and a boy.

Just when it couldn’t get any worse Mum decided that I needed to get a part-time job. I hate it when she goes into one of her Edie efficiency drives. She’s stopped my allowance! And even worse, she’s got me an interview at the Sunshine Café next door to Rhythm Records where Dylan works.

I think sometimes she lies in bed at night and plots ways to make my life suck.

There can be no other explanation.

I got the job! Anna, who owns the café, was very impressed with my tea-making abilities (it’s all to do with how many times you dunk the tea bag). She’s a little hippy woman who told me that she realised that serving up carrot cake was never going to make her rich and so she branched out into fry-ups. Actually she’s nice and funny, though she should probably re-think the tie-dye leggings. They’re so not a good look.

I’m going to work Saturdays and Wednesday and Thursday afternoons when I don’t have college. Anna said it would be a good idea if I could smile a bit more but as long as I could wash up and carry two plates at once I was hired. I might as well get paid for it instead of doing it at home for free.

Dylan came into the café today. Even though I hate him I still love him too. I don’t have the answers to that one.

He looked really sad when he saw me walking over. Probably because he couldn’t believe that he used to date someone who was now employed as a skivvy.

‘Hey Edie,’ he said softly. ‘I thought you’d disappeared off the face of the earth.’

It killed me but I managed to summon up a smile so wide it made my face ache. ‘Nope, I’m still here. Are you ready to order?’

I could feel his eyes on me while I made coffees and recited the specials. When I went to clear his table, he’d left me a note saying ‘Call me’. Yeah. I’ll see him in hell first. And then later on in the afternoon, Dylan’s mate Simon came in and I suddenly realised where I could find the answers.

We chatted while I took his order and then I asked him if he fancied going for a drink later. I’ve never actually asked a boy out before but it wasn’t like I was asking Simon
out
out and he didn’t seem to think there was anything weird about it.

I’d never really got to know Simon. He always seemed so… adult with his glamorous girlfriends and steady stream of sarcastic remarks. He’s sort of intense and I’d always felt that he didn’t approve of me and Dylan. Like he thought I was really shallow because I moaned about my parents and made Dylan take me to see films with cute boys in them.