Authors: Zoe Sugg
“All righty, let’s get going,” he says, as soon as he sees me.
“Where to?”
“This morning is about the only time of the year when New York actually goes to sleep,” Noah says, putting a note on the kitchen table. It reads,
G
ONE FOR A WALK
.
B
ACK SOON
,
N & P
. “I figured it would be the perfect time to show you some of the local sights.” He takes hold of my hand. “I want you to know more about where I’m from,” he says quietly. “Plus, I thought you might like to take some photos without a ton of other people getting in the way.”
I smile at him. “Thank you.”
It’s a perfect morning outside. Everywhere is covered in a fresh blanket of snow and there’s that weird muffled silence that it brings. Noah shows me his old school and his favorite café and the shop his mum used to take him to every Saturday to spend his pocket money on comics and candy. Then he takes me to the local park. Apart from a man in the distance, walking a dog, we’re the only people there and ours are the only footprints in the blanket of snow. Noah sits on one of the swings and gets a faraway look in his eye.
“My dad used to tell me that if you swung high enough it was possible to shoot off into outer space,” he says softly. “I used to believe him too!” He laughs. “Man, I used to swing my butt off trying to get into space.” He turns to look at me. “Why do we believe everything our parents tell us?”
I sit down on the swing next to him. “Because we love
them? Because we want to? When I was little, my mum told me that my toys came to life every night while I was asleep. In the morning when I woke up I’d check in my tent and they’d all be in different positions to how I’d left them.”
“In your tent?”
I laugh. “Yes. I used to have a tent made out of blankets at the end of my bed. It was my favorite place to play. It made me feel all cozy and safe. My mum must have crawled in there every night to move the toys around. I think it’s good when parents tell us things like that. It makes life more magical.”
Noah nods. “I guess. But when what they tell us doesn’t come true . . .” He breaks off, a frown creasing his forehead.
“Then we have to find something else magical to believe in.”
Noah looks at me and smiles. “Yes, I like that.” He shifts his swing sideways till he’s right up close to mine. “I believe in you, Penny,” he says, looking into my eyes.
“I believe in you too.”
We look at each other for a second, then Noah pushes his swing back.
“Come on,” he calls. “Let’s see how high we can go.”
We don’t quite make it into outer space but we do get high enough to see right across the park to the rooftop of Noah’s house.
When we finally come back down to earth, we’re flush-faced and giggling.
Noah runs over to a seesaw and jumps on top of it. “I’m the king of the castle!” he yells. He looks so happy and cute I instantly reach for my camera.
“I’ve got to get a picture of you,” I call. “You look so funny.”
“Hmm, funny is not exactly the look I was going for,” Noah says with a frown.
“Really?” I say, taking the shot. “So what look were you going for?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Noah leaps down from the seesaw. “Thoughtful? Mysterious?” He comes and stands right in front of me. “The kind of guy you might want to, you know, kiss?”
My heart starts beating so fast I can practically feel my rib cage vibrating.
“Oh, you’re definitely all of those too,” I say quietly.
Noah looks at me. “Really?”
I nod. “Yes.”
The muffled snowy silence wraps itself around us like a blanket. And as he gently brushes the hair back from my face and leans in to kiss me, it feels as if we’re the only people awake and alive on the entire planet.
• • •
It’s not until the afternoon that I finally get a text from Elliot. As soon as I see it my heart sinks.
Happy Christmas. Hope you had a good one
I stare at the screen. Is that it? The lack of exclamation marks, emoticons, and kisses immediately makes me think that something is very wrong. I have to call him. While the others all watch
The Wizard of Oz
, I sneak up to Bella’s room and climb into my bunk. Thankfully this time, he picks up.
“Elliot, what’s wrong?”
“What do you mean, what’s wrong?”
“Your text—it was so blunt.”
“Well, maybe if you’d just spent the Christmas from hell with the parents from hell, you’d be feeling pretty blunt too.”
I feel a glimmer of relief that he might just be annoyed at his parents and not me. “Why didn’t you call me back? Or text me?”
There’s a long silence. It’s so long I think we might have lost the connection.
“I didn’t want to interrupt,” Elliot finally mutters.
“Interrupt what?”
There’s another silence.
“You told me he was just a holiday romance.”
Now it’s my turn to go silent.
“He—I—it’s—I don’t know what it is.”
“You seem pretty clear about it on your blog.”
“No, I don’t. That’s why I blogged about it, because I’m not sure, because I’m confused.”
“So you’d rather talk to thousands of strangers about it than to me?”
“No! It’s just—you’re not here.”
“No—I’m not.”
“Oh, El, please.”
“Look, we’ll talk about it when you get home, all right?”
“All right. Well, I’ll see you next week then.”
“Yes. See you then.”
As I finish the call, my eyes fill with tears. Why, why, why can things never go right? Why, even when something truly amazing happens, does something crappy have to happen
too? I’ve never fallen out with Elliot—not even come close to it. And now it feels as if I’m losing him and I don’t even know why. And then a terrible thought occurs to me. What if he doesn’t want to be friends anymore when I get back home? I’ll be miles away from Noah and I’ll have no best friend. I’ll have nobody. I hug my pillow to me and start to cry.
“Don’t be sad,” a squeaky little voice says, making me jump out of my skin. I roll over and see Princess Autumn hovering by the ladder at the end of the bed. Bella appears behind her and climbs up onto my bunk. “Every time you feel sad you should think of three happy things to chase the sad thing away,” she says to me, propping Princess Autumn up next to her. “Noah told me that one time when I got sad about my mom and dad.”
“That’s a great idea,” I say, wiping the tears from my face.
“So go on then,” Bella says, staring at me.
“What?”
“What are three things that make you happy?”
“You,” I say straightaway. “You make me very happy.”
Bella beams at me. “OK, that’s number one. What else?”
“Being here, in this house.”
She nods. “And number three?”
“Noah,” I mumble, my cheeks flushing.
“You make him happy too.”
I look at her. “Really?”
“Oh yes. He was really grumpy last week but ever since he met you he’s been all smiley again.”
“Oh good.” I really want to ask her why he was grumpy but that feels way too inappropriate.
“You make me happy too,” Bella says to me shyly.
“Ah, thank you.”
“And you make Princess Autumn happy, doesn’t she, Princess Autumn?”
Bella picks up the doll. “Oh yes,” she says in a squeaky little voice, waving the doll about. “She makes me very happy—even though she didn’t give me a name.”
I look at Bella and I laugh. Everything will be OK. I’ll sort things out with Elliot as soon as I get home, but for now I have to make the most of my time with Noah—and Bella—and Princess Autumn.
31 December
It’s the People, not the Place
Once, when my family ended up on a day trip to a place called Cow Roast and we realized that, despite its epic name, there wasn’t really anything much there apart from a row of houses, a pub (that was shut), and a petrol station, my dad gave us a really cool piece of advice. He said that it doesn’t matter what a place is like, what matters is the people you see that place with. If they are up for adventure then you can make anywhere fun. We made Cow Roast fun that day—playing hide-and-seek in some nearby woods and meeting an old lady who invited us into her cottage for tea and scones.
Even though New York is one of the least boring places in the world, seeing it with Brooklyn Boy has made it even more exciting. And the weirdest thing is that in the week I’ve been here, I haven’t been to a single tourist attraction. Instead, Brooklyn Boy has been taking me to all of his secret favorite spots. Yesterday, we drove out to a beach in New Jersey and although it was deserted because of the winter weather it was magical. We wrote our names in the sand and drank hot chocolate from flasks and I took some great pictures of a boardwalk (which is an American promenade).
And
I survived the drive—there and back—without having a panic attack!
Another night, we visited an art gallery called Framed because Brooklyn Boy had heard there was a really cool photography exhibition on there. The theme of the exhibition was hope and all of the photographers had interpreted it in totally different ways. My favorite was a picture of a little girl with her face pressed up against a toy-shop window. But the best thing about the exhibition was going with Brooklyn Boy: because he’s friends with the gallery owner, we got to go in at night when it was shut to everyone else.
(This was doubly good for me because it meant that no one else saw when I tripped over some rope on the ground. It turned out that the rope was a piece of modern art called
The Snake.
Personally, I think it should be renamed
The Health & Safety Hazard.)
So my dad was definitely right—it’s the people you see a place with that really matters. Brooklyn Boy has shown me a really private and personal side of New York I never would have found on my own.
How about you guys?
How have the people you’ve been with made a place really fun and exciting?
Wishing you all a super-fun New Year’s Eve—with super-fun people!
Girl Online, going offline xxx
Chapter Thirty-Three
In the olden days, people used to talk about time as if it were a person. They used to call him Father Time. According to Elliot, Father Time was an old man with a long white beard who carried an hourglass everywhere. I’ve decided that he also had a really mean sense of humor. Think about it. Whenever something horrible happens to you—like you’re stuck in an algebra exam, or you’re having a filling, or you fall over onstage and show your underwear—time goes by so slowly that every second feels like an hour, but whenever something really amazing happens to you—like you might actually be falling in love for the very first time—time goes by so fast you blink and an entire week has gone.
It’s New Year’s Eve morning. We’re leaving tomorrow. We’re leaving tomorrow and I’ll be leaving the person I think I’ve fallen in love with. In the days since Christmas my list of evidence that Noah is my soul mate has grown and grown. I haven’t put any more about it on my blog, though—there’s no way I want to upset Elliot again. But, in my head, the list now includes things like:
• we both love to read books with killer twists at the end
• he takes me to special places I’d never find on my own
• I know exactly where I’d take him if he were ever to come to Brighton
• he loves my photographs and thinks I could exhibit in a gallery
• when he says this he makes me feel talented and confident and strong
• he hates selfies too
• we both love crunchy peanut butter
• he makes me say things like “we both love crunchy peanut butter”!
And tomorrow I’m going to have to leave him, fly across an entire ocean away from him, back to my phoney so-called friends and my barely-talking-to-me best friend. As I lie in my bunk and stare up at the ceiling, I feel hollowed out with sadness.