Diary of a Crush: Kiss and Make Up (5 page)

Anyway we went to the pub and he ordered me a beer and I didn’t want to seem uncool so I drank it and tried not to pull a face. We talked about Brighton and Simon’s new job at a design company. We had a couple more beers and then I started asking my questions. But Simon wasn’t biting.

‘Look Edie,’ he said brutally, tearing up his beermat with great vigour. ‘You went running off at the first sign of trouble. Why should you care who he’s seeing? You spent all your time giving Dylan grief so you can’t blame him for bailing out.’

‘But he kissed Mia,’ I whimpered. It sounded really lame and about time I just let it go.

‘Or she kissed him,’ said Simon. ‘Whatever. It was bloody months ago! Why are you still obsessing about it?’

‘So is he serious about Veronique?’ I asked, running a finger down the condensation on my pint glass.

Simon shrugged and tried to hide his amused smile. ‘Ask him yourself, babes.’

‘This is all a big joke to you,’ I hissed at him. ‘You think I’m some stupid little kid. Well, I’m not. You don’t know how much I’m hurting.’

He had the nerve to actually laugh, like my hurt was really not that important in the grand scheme of things. ‘You’ve had too much to drink. C’mon I’ll take you home.’

I put a hand on his arm as he tried to stand up. ‘Simon, please. I know you think I’m some silly little girl and I’m not cool or pretty…’

Simon gave my hand a squeeze and sat down again. ‘I don’t think that Edie,’ he said quietly. ‘Yeah, you’re not what Dylan needs but I always thought you were cute. Very cute.’

I
had
had too much to drink ’cause next thing I’m whispering, ‘Do you really think I’m cute?’ and leaning forward so Simon could kiss me.

He did kiss me. Hard. With his hand cupping the back of my head so I couldn’t get loose. And I didn’t really want to. It was a really fantastic kiss but it wasn’t the answer. Then we were both pulling away at the same time.

‘That was a mistake…’ we gasped in unison.

Nat and I went and sat on the wall by the Art block to check out the new intake of Art Foundation students or ‘the autumn collection’ as he calls it. I’m strictly window-shopping and failing to see anyone who would bring out the blue in my eyes.

Dylan and Simon came into the café again and Dylan acted like everything was cool between us. I wondered if he’d ever speak to me again if he knew that I’d kissed Simon.

Then that stupid Veronique came in with Shona who hasn’t returned my calls since I had that hissy fit at her outside the cinema. They were being like best friends or something while I had to
wait
on them! They could have the decency to find another place to hang out.

The whole thing made me feel really crappy. I used to be where Veronique was – with Dylan’s arm round my shoulders and Shona laughing at my jokes. They didn’t even leave a decent tip!

When I finished work today, Dylan was waiting for me outside. When I saw him slouched against the wall in his scuffed leather jacket and his black cords, I felt such a sharp pang of longing that it almost made me gasp.

I looked skanky. My hair was scraped back into a ponytail (albeit a very blonde ponytail); I was wearing my tattiest jeans and a holey cardigan.

‘Hey you,’ he murmured.

‘Look, it’s late, I’m tired, make it quick,’ I muttered, not looking at him.

‘Oh Eeds,’ Dylan sighed. ‘Can we just go for a drive and sort things out?’

I thought about it for precisely five seconds. ‘I s’pose so.’

We ended up driving all the way to Blackpool. It’s hard to explain but sitting next to Dylan in the tiny confines of his car and him
driving
me somewhere – it suddenly felt like we were cocooned away from the rest of the world. I thought we’d stay like that forever and just keep driving. Or maybe I just wished it. Neither of us really spoke but it would have killed the mood or the truce that we’d declared as soon as I let Dylan help me into the passenger seat.

In fact, we didn’t say much until we were sat in a shelter on the prom, sharing a bag of chips and bracing ourselves against the stiff, salt-tinged breeze that swept in from the sea.

‘C’mon then, talk,’ I said once the chips had gone and my lips were sore from the wind and the sharp tang of the vinegar.

Dylan leant back on the seat and looked at me consideringly. ‘So… Mia kissed me. Not the other way round but every time I thought about telling you, it just sounded lame. Like a really crap excuse. What else? Well, I started going out with Veronique because we were finished according to your email and… I’d do anything to be your friend, Edie. I miss you so much.’

I sat there, trying to take it all in. And I knew he was telling the truth about everything. It made what I had to say so much harder.

‘I kissed Simon the other week after I’d had too much to drink,’ I said very quietly and I wasn’t sure he’d even heard me over the howl of the wind.

Then Dylan was hugging me tightly and I wrapped my arms around him and never wanted him to let me go. ‘Is that why you’ve been avoiding me? Edie, I don’t mind. I just want us to…’

‘But I want you to mind!’ I cried, fighting to get out of his embrace when only a second before I’d wanted to stay there forever. ‘I want you to be angry ’cause then I’ll know that you loved me.’

Dylan gently took hold of my chin. ‘But I did love you.’

‘You never once told me that.’

‘I’ll always love you Edie,’ Dylan whispered right into my ear. ‘But it wasn’t working out. I made you unhappy, you made me unhappy and now we need to move on. So, please, let’s just do the friend thing.’

I leant forward and kissed him really softly on the lips. Maybe there were a couple of tears trickling down my face but I could probably pass them off as my eyes watering due to the gusts rolling in across the waves.

‘OK, friends then.’ I sniffed. ‘And what the hell is Shona’s problem anyway?’

Dylan laughed and threw his arm round my shoulder so I could nestle against him to keep warm. Which is what he probably wanted me to think but I couldn’t help but fixate on how he’d just said that he’d always love me. So, what he meant was that he did love me. He
loved
me. And he still loves me. Which is why I’m not buying this friends crap. He wouldn’t be going out with Veronique if I hadn’t written that stupid, confused email before I went to Brighton. And if he still loves me, it means that anything could happen. Which is why I agreed to meet him and his new university friends for drinks when he was driving me back home. Plus I really want to suss out Veronique.

I spent all day working on my ‘I just threw this stuff on’ look. I had my highlights re-done and got the hairdresser to put my hair up in this messy bun thing. I’d blown my entire week’s wages on new Top Shop jeans and a 1940s black satin top from the really expensive vintage shop in town. I looked about as good as it’s humanly possible for me to look but I was still shaking as I pushed open the door of the bar.

I spent several moments feeling like a complete prat as I frantically searched around for Dylan before I saw him and his mates chilling out on some sofas.

Walking towards ten people who are staring at you is very off-putting. I kept my head up and tried not to bite my lip.

Then Shona jumped up and was hugging me, and Dylan was introducing me as ‘the coolest girl I’ve ever known’.

Veronique looked unimpressed while this lanky boy with a quiff called Carter (Carter!) had the audacity to say, ‘Edie? What kind of a weird name is that?’

I looked to Dylan for support but he was too busy kissing Veronique to notice. As evenings go, it wasn’t too bad. If, like, your only other option was to have your eyes gouged out or something.

Turned out that Carter is actually Veronique’s brother, which explains why a) he had a stupid name and b) he was so aggravating. He asked me if I called myself Edie because of Edie Sedgwick and when I pulled a face to suggest that I didn’t know what the hell he was talking about he had the nerve to say, ‘I’m sorry, I guess the 1960s New York underground scene is a little too sophisticated for your tastes.’

I would have worked up to a really crushing reply but I still didn’t have any idea what he was banging on about, ’cept he was managing to make me look like an idiot in front of five people I didn’t know. Shona shrugged apologetically and Paul started this long, complicated explanation to do with Andy Warhol, and Veronique and Dylan were
still
investigating each other’s back molars.

I had one drink and then pretended that I had an elsewhere to be, which was actually home to my bed, where I curled up with Pudding who could tell that I was down and didn’t try to claw me to pieces when I cried into her fur.

I’ve finally got a clue. I am not going anywhere near Dylan again. If he comes into the café, which he does with alarming regularity, I’m going to be polite but apart from that, I am avoiding him. As far as I’m concerned, he should have a ‘Warning! Haz Chem!’ label tattooed on his forehead. He’s out of bounds as a friend, as someone who may or may not still be in love with me, as someone who is sucking face with another girl. He is out of my life, once and for all. I mean it, this time. I might not have meant it the other times, but I’m serious. No more Dylan.

I’ve been Dylan-free for forty-eight hours. It’s going pretty well.

Still Dylan-free. He came into the café today but I got Poppy, the other waitress, to serve him. And I managed not to make eye contact the whole time he was in there. I pretty much rock!

Still Dylan-free and thank God that I can screen his calls on my mobile. I wish he’d get the message to just leave me the fuck alone.

Turns out that Dylan doesn’t just play games with my heart when I’m with him. Oh no. He can do it via the medium of email too.