Girl Online (30 page)

Noah grins.

“Or a—” I break off, embarrassed.

“Or a what?”

He stares at me. We’re so close I can feel his breath on my face.

“Or a handsome prince.” I look down at the cushions.

“Penny?”

I look back up at him. He’s looking really serious.

“Yes?”

“I really like you.”

“I really like you too.”

“No, I mean,
really
like you. I like you so much it might even be . . .”

I look at him, willing him to say it.

“. . . love,” he whispers.

I nod and take hold of his hand. “I like you so much it might even be love too.”

He laughs. “You don’t get lines that smooth in the movies.”

I laugh too. “No. But smooth is very overrated.”

And then he wraps his strong arms around me and pulls me close. “I’m so sad you’re leaving,” he whispers in my ear.

“Me too.” I lean into him and rest my head on his shoulder.

“But this isn’t it, you know?”

I pull back and look at him. His hair is tumbling in messy waves around his face. I fight the urge to reach out and touch it.

“I’ll figure out some way to come visit you in the UK, and you can come back here whenever you want and until then we can hang out online. I’m even prepared to break my Internet detox for you,” he says with a grin.

“I’m honored,” I say.

“You should be,” he says.

And then he starts to kiss me. Little kisses as light as butterfly
wings all the way up the side of my neck. Then on my face, my eyelids, the tip of my nose, until finally our lips meet. And our kiss is so passionate and full of meaning I don’t want it to ever end. But then something starts beeping. I pull away from Noah and stare at him in alarm.

“What’s that?”

“Sorry, it’s my watch. I set it for midnight so we wouldn’t miss the new year.” Noah pulls me back in toward him. “Happy New Year, Penny,” he says.

“Happy New Year, Noah,” I say, hoping with everything that I’ve got that it will be.

Noah gently guides me down so that we’re lying on the cushions and, as he holds me to him, I silently beg Father Time to show some compassion and freeze all the clocks in the world so that our kisses will last forever.

Chapter Thirty-Five

It’s official. I hate Father Time. I hate him more than I hate school bullies and exams and even pickled onions. In the end, Noah and I got about an hour together before the others arrived back home. An hour that flew by in a nanosecond. But I have discovered one small consolation. Whenever I close my eyes and remember what happened, my skin starts tingling where Noah touched me and it’s like I’m with him all over again. I might not have been able to stop time but at least I’m able to time-travel back to the tent. I’m doing it now as I wait in the hallway for Mum and Dad to bring down their luggage. Sitting on my suitcase, eyes closed, remembering the way Noah stroked my hair and ran his fingers down my back.

“Penny for your thoughts.”

I open my eyes and see Noah looking at me from across the hallway.

“I was thinking about the tent.” My face starts to flush.

“Me too. I can’t stop thinking about it.” Noah comes over and takes hold of my hands. “Why don’t you go down there
and hide? I’ll tell your parents you were abducted by alien pigs and they can go home without you.”

I give him a sad smile. “I wish I could.”

He puts his arm around me and I rest my head on his shoulder. It’s a perfect fit.
We’re
a perfect fit. This is so unfair.

“It’ll be OK,” he whispers in my ear. “It’ll be OK.”

But will it? How can it be, when we live so far apart?

All the way to the airport, I feel as if I have a ball of sorrow growing inside me like a tumor. Mum and Dad are traveling in Sadie Lee’s car with Bella and I’m in the truck with Noah. Noah doesn’t even need to do his running commentary of traffic maneuvers—I’m so numb with grief I can’t even panic.

As we pull into a space in the terminal car park, Noah turns to me. “Listen, Penny, is it OK if I don’t come in with you guys? I’m not very good at public goodbyes. I’d rather say what I have to say here—now—while it’s just the two of us.”

I feel a little stab of disappointment.

Noah reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulls out a blank CD. “I have something for you. It’s something I made—for you.”

I take the CD and look at him hopefully. “Is it—is it the song that Bella was talking about?”

Color rises in Noah’s cheeks. “It might be.” He laughs. “OK, it is. I recorded it on my computer so the quality’s not that great but I want you to have it. I want you to know how I feel.”

I look at the CD player in the truck. “Can I play it now?”

Noah laughs and shakes his head. “No way!” He presses it
into my hands. “Save it for when you get home. That way it’s like you’ll have a message from me as soon as you get there.”

The sorrow inside me starts to shrink a little. I take hold of Noah’s hand. “Thank you. Oh, but I haven’t got anything to give you.”

“You’ve given me loads.” He squeezes my hand. “You have no idea how much. Truth is, right before I met you, things had gotten a little—”

He’s interrupted as Sadie Lee pulls into the space next to us.

“Never mind,” Noah says with a sigh. He cups my face with his hand. “Penny, I like you so much it might even be love.”

“I like you so much it might even be love too.” My heart fills with hope. Doesn’t love conquer everything? Isn’t that what the song says? And if it does conquer everything then that has to include the Atlantic Ocean too.

I hear Sadie Lee’s car door opening. Time is running out. Noah pulls me toward him and we kiss.

“I told you they love each other,” Bella says in a loud voice right outside the truck.

• • •

All the way home on the plane, I cling onto that last conversation with Noah like an emotional life raft. Every time I feel anxious or upset I remind myself of how much has happened since I left the UK. It’s almost as if I’m returning home as a totally different person. But this time I’m not having to pretend to be someone else—I don’t need a superhero alter ego—this time I’m OK just being myself. Every time the plane hits some turbulence, I start running through a mental checklist of everything I’ve achieved since coming
away: I’ve learned how to get my panic attacks under some kind of control, I’ve been the semi-official photographer at an American wedding, I’ve gone record shopping in Brooklyn, I’ve had my first ever American Christmas, I’ve fallen in love.
I’ve fallen in love!
And even as I watch the little plane icon on the screen in front of me slowly tracking its way farther and farther from America, farther and farther from Noah, I still feel OK. Somehow I feel certain that we’ll make it work.

When we land in the UK, my relief at making it back safely combines with my newfound confidence, and even though I’m exhausted, I’ve never felt so determined. I’m going to sort things out with Elliot. I’m going to save up my money from my job at To Have and to Hold to pay for a flight back to New York. I don’t care about the stupid video and I don’t care about Megan and Ollie. I’ve shed my previous life like an old skin. I picture it drifting somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.

We finally get home at just gone midnight. Everything looks different. Unfamiliar. The Christmas decorations look sad and dejected, and the house is freezing cold.

As Mum and Dad make some tea, I go straight up to my bedroom. I have to play Noah’s CD. I plonk down onto my bed and straightaway I hear a knocking sound. Elliot! I hold my breath as I wait to decipher the code. One knock, followed by four knocks, followed by three:
I—love—you
. My body fills with relief. Since Christmas Day we haven’t texted each other at all. It’s the longest I’ve ever gone without having any contact with Elliot. Before I can respond he’s knocking again.
Can I come over?
I quickly do the code for
Yes, come over right now
.

I can play the CD later. I need to get things back on track with Elliot first. I hear his front door shutting and I lie back on my bed staring up at the ceiling. I hear Dad letting Elliot in, the gentle murmur of their voices. Elliot’s feet pounding up the stairs. My life is slotting back into its old patterns. I count the seconds till my bedroom door opens. One, two, three, four . . .

“Penny!” Elliot bursts in, breathless. “I’m so sorry. I’ve missed you so much. Are you—? Are we—OK?”

I sit up and smile. “Of course we are.”

“Oh, thank God!” Elliot sits down on the end of my bed. “I’m so sorry I got so moody. But you have no idea the pressure I was under. It’s been hell. Guess what my parents got me for Christmas?’

I shrug.

“A rugby season ticket. Rugby! They know I hate rugby. With a passion.” Elliot throws his hands up in despair. “Why would you give your only son a present that you know he actively hates with a passion? Why? And they actually thought it would be a good idea for us to have a cheese fondue for Christmas dinner. I mean, hello! The seventies called—they say they need their kitsch back.”

I shake my head in disbelief. “Oh, Elliot.”

“I know. They’re beyond help. Or hope.” Elliot looks at me and sighs. “So go on then.”

“What?”

“Tell me all about Prince Charming.”

“Seriously?” I study Elliot’s face for any sign that he doesn’t really mean it.

Elliot smiles. “Yes, seriously.”

So I give Elliot a watered-down version of my week with Noah, leaving out anything too corny that I think might make him feel jealous. When I finish, I look at him nervously.

Elliot’s expression is unreadable. “But how do you feel now? Now you know you can’t see him again?”

“It’ll be OK—we’ll work something out.”

Elliot frowns. “But how? He’s in New York and you’re in Brighton.”

“Yes, I know that.” I fight hard to stay positive. “But we can visit each other.”

Elliot nods but there’s something about his gaze that looks really doubtful and it makes a chink in my armor of positivity.

We both fall silent and I start to really regret having said anything.

“So, do you have a picture of him?” Elliot asks, breaking the silence.

I nod and take my phone from my bag and scroll through to the picture of Noah in the park. “This was on Boxing Day morning, when he took me on the tour of his neighborhood.”

As Elliot studies the picture, I study his face for a sign of approval. I so badly want him to like Noah and to be supportive. He gives a curt nod. “Very nice,” he says, but I can detect a slight undercurrent of tension. “He looks kind of familiar. Must be those Johnny Depp cheekbones.” He hands the phone back to me. “So, listen, how do you fancy coming into town with me tomorrow? I’ve decided to buy a plaid shirt, to go with my new cowboy hat.”

And that’s it—conversation about Noah, over. As Elliot
carries on talking about how it’s time to “Americanize his look,” I feel so disappointed. Surely your best friend should be happy for you when you meet someone? Surely they should want to hear all about them? I just don’t understand what Elliot’s problem is. Especially now that I’m home and thousands of miles away from Noah.

I’m thousands of miles away from Noah.

Just as I’m about to be engulfed in a wave of sadness, my text alert goes off. While Elliot is still talking, I dive for my phone and open the message.

Hope you’re home safe. But wish you were still here. I miss you, Inciting Incident

I grin with relief.

“Should I go?” Elliot says, looking pointedly at the phone.

“What?” I say, distracted as I start composing my reply to Noah in my head.

“Do you want me to leave?”

“Oh. Well, I am pretty tired—from the flight.”

Elliot gets up. ‘“OK. See you tomorrow then.”

“Sure.”

As soon as Elliot has gone I send a reply to Noah.

Yes, home safe but miss you too and wish I was there too. Just about to play your CD xx

I light the orange-and-cinnamon candle that Sadie Lee gave me for Christmas and put on my fairy lights. My text alert goes off again.