Together Apart (12 page)

Only one day left! Tomorrow will be my last day as a virgin. I’m so nervous! I wonder what it will feel like. These are the times when I wish I was closer to Claire so I could speak to her about it.

I could always talk to Hannah, I suppose, but we’re not as close as we used to be, and so far, she’s refused to say if she’s slept with Daniel. We’re supposed to be best friends, but she’s going around acting like she’s the only person in the world to ever have a boyfriend. Like it’s all so sacred and special that she couldn’t possibly share anything with me. So I’ll just have to wait until tomorrow and find out for myself.

I’m scared!

17.

26 October

S
o, I met up with Claire earlier and told her everything – even the thing I’ve been too scared to write down in case I jinx myself. Experience has taught me there’s no point in hiding anything from her. I didn’t realise how much I’d missed her, and right now I feel like I can take on anything. It’s funny. When I speak to her on the phone, I feel guilty for what I put her through and the memories of that night overpower me. But when I actually see her, it’s totally different. As soon as she hugged me, it was like a weight had been lifted.

Of course, she’s still the same old Claire – she always thinks she knows best. She still thinks I need to tell Adam everything. She said he deserves to know the truth, and she was majorly pissed off when she realised that he doesn’t know anything about her. She just said, ‘He doesn’t know about me, does he?’ It was a rhetorical question. She knew the answer. What could I say to that? I felt awful. How could I tell my twin sister that I’ve denied her very existence for such a long time? The only consolation was that she knew why I did it. She’s the only person who knows what happened. It would have been awkward for the both of us because even though we argue, she’d never betray my trust. She would have protected me, and to do that, she would have had to lie to Adam. He would have been curious about why we hardly see each other. Even her busy flight attendant lifestyle can’t explain why we’re not as close as twins should be.

She was raging with me. I could see the fire in her eyes, but she didn’t flip out. She just pleaded with me to talk to him. I wish to God that I could, and sometimes I do wonder if I’ve over-
dramatised
the whole thing. But then as soon as I think that, the guilt comes pouring down. I can’t be flippant about it. That would make me a monster, and I really don’t want to believe I’m one of those.

It was nice to see her again. Considering she lives in London too, she’s hardly ever here. She’s always flying off here and there, and when we do meet, I just want to keep her close. I know I let my paranoia take over sometimes. I let myself believe that I’m her dirty little secret, but I know it’s not like that. She offered to lend me some money to pay for the rent until the lease is up, so I can move out, and it’s tempting, but there’s really not much point. We won’t be here much longer, and besides, I’m not ready to wrench myself away from Adam just yet. The thought of moving out is like a punch in the gut.

We spoke about other things, of course. Mum’s doing fine, still with bloody Peter. I know I’m going to have to haul myself up there soon. It’s not fair on Mum to visit so rarely, and I really miss her. And Sheffield. I never thought I’d ever say that.

Heavy rain lashed against the window, waking Adam with a start, and goose bumps spread across his skin. He lifted his head and looked down at himself. He was lying on top of the duvet with only a towel wrapped around his waist and Sarah’s diary still in his hand. He yawned and picked up his mobile, squinting at the screen. It was two thirty in the morning, and everything was silent except for what sounded like a fox raiding a bin farther down the road. He got up, pulled on a T-shirt and boxers and headed to the kitchen.

He’d dreamt about Sarah, and as he set about making himself a hot chocolate, a frown spread across his face. All he could see were faint images of her face that slipped out of his reach before he could remember anything else. He rarely remembered his dreams, but he really wanted to remember this one.

He looked down into the cup, took a sip and grimaced. What he’d wanted was sweet, thick hot chocolate, but instead he’d ended up with something that looked like dirty dishwater. When Sarah made it, it would be creamy and frothy, and she’d usually put a couple of marshmallows on top for good measure. He’d forgotten about that.

He made his way back to bed, thinking about the little things she used to do. Sometimes, she would leave little notes tucked into the pocket of his suit jacket. They were never sonnets or profound declarations of undying love, but they were always sweet, often contained a joke and always managed to put a smile on his face,
regardless
of how badly his day was going.

Did she ever leave random notes for Richard to find? Did she ever make him a mix tape of her favourite songs? She’d chosen him to be the one she gave her virginity to, which was clearly a big deal for her. More than it had been for him. He’d lost his to a girl called Charlotte when he was seventeen. They’d been at a house party and ended up in one of the bedrooms on a bed full of coats. He’d always remember the rhythmic, chafing noise as his leg rubbed against someone’s jacket while he was on top of her.

It was selfish and irrational, but he hoped Sarah hadn’t made those little gestures of love to Richard. He’d rather think that they were something special and unique – something she’d only done for him.

2 December 1998, 11.30 a.m.

Today is the day. It’s actually happening! Omigod! I am so excited! I hardly even slept last night because I was so nervous, and today is going so sloooooooooow. Physics is beyond boring, but at
least I
 get to write in my diary and daydream about Richard without anyone interrupting me. I just hope no one sees me sneaking off. I haven’t told anyone about this, not even Hannah. I want to keep it to myself. This is one of the most important days of my life so far. I just hope it’s everything I’m dreaming of.

2 December 1998, 5.30 p.m.

That’s it! I’m not a virgin anymore. I did it. I actually did it. It was really nice. Painful, but nice. It felt weird when he met me at the bus stop. We both knew what was going to happen, but we didn’t talk about it. It was a bit awkward, and I kept wondering if maybe he’d changed his mind, but when I went into his room, it was obvious he’d prepared. He didn’t light any candles or anything lame like that, but his room was super clean, and he’d put new sheets on the bed. He put a CD on, and we sat on the bed for what felt like forever as I waited for him to do something. I was too scared to make the first move.

He was so sweet and took things really slowly. He didn’t rush me or make me feel like I was stupid for not knowing what to do. It hurt at first. A lot. In fact, I kind of wanted him to stop as soon as he’d started, but he said it would get better. I mean, it wasn’t like it is in films, with both of us being really into it or anything, but he says it’ll get better over time. I wanted to ask how he knew that for sure, but I don’t want to know how many other girls he’s slept with. I’m certain he slept with Rachel, but I don’t want to know about anyone else.

Even though it hurt and I didn’t know what I was doing, I wouldn’t change it. Having his naked body against mine . . . just amazing. And what was great was that I didn’t feel insecure about my body, not even once. We cuddled and talked afterwards. I can’t even really remember what we spoke about. I was in a bubble of happiness. All I could think was how right it all felt. It was everything I’ve ever dreamt of, and I know how lucky I am to have lost my virginity to my boyfriend, who I love. I bet not many girls get to say that.

So, I’m really sore now, but I can’t stop smiling. I’m like a deranged clown. Even Peter’s ranting as I strolled in an hour late didn’t bother me. His moaning just bounced off me like an echo.

3 December 1998

I told Claire about yesterday. I hadn’t planned to, but it was a secret that felt too big to keep. I mean, hello, it’s
huge news
! I had to tell someone, and even though we don’t always get on that well, she
is
my twin. She was so shocked, especially because we’ve only been together a little while. She hasn’t done it yet, so she wanted to know everything. I didn’t leave anything out, and her eyes got wider and wider with every word I said. They got so big, they almost took over her entire face – they were like saucers!

It was really nice to speak to her like that. We hardly ever talk about anything properly. She’s always out with her friends, and I’m always in town with mine. It reminded me of how things used to be, and I think, more than anything, she likes that I’m standing up to Peter. I always thought she just didn’t care that he’s waded his way into our family and is trying to take over. I told her I was going to do what I wanted from now on, no matter what Peter says, and the look on her face was priceless. I don’t think she thought I had it in me.

4 December 1998

I nearly told Richard I love him today! I chickened out, though. I think he feels the same way, but I know I’d just get my words
all mix
ed up and look like an idiot if he didn’t say anything back. I’m going to stay over at his house this weekend, and it can’t come quick enough!

Adam put the diary down. He’d struggled to read about her first time. It was like he’d crossed a line somehow. It would have been different if she’d told him herself, but this was something she’d written for her eyes only. He felt like a voyeur.

He remembered the anticipation he’d felt the first time he’d slept with Sarah. After a month of dating, he was crazy for her, but what surprised him was that he’d really wanted to take things slowly. No matter what anyone said, sex changed everything, and those first four weeks had been perfect. If things were going to change, he’d wanted them to change for the better. It had finally happened after a night out at a comedy show. The laughter was a definite aphrodisiac. Even now, just thinking about her throaty laugh made his groin stir.

Images of her from that night floated in his mind – stills, frozen in time, like a photograph. Like how her hair tumbled around her shoulders when she’d released it from the ponytail it had been tied up in, and how her skin glistened with sweat, like it was covered with diamonds. He’d licked the soft skin under her breasts and kissed the delicate crease in the crook of her elbow. He’d stroked the silkiness of her inner thighs and traced the line of four tiny magpies tattooed on the side of her hip.

He’d explored every inch of her, and it wasn’t just physical. He’d looked into her eyes and seen the very same emotions
he wa
s feeling reflected back at him – lust, love and even fear. Th
ere was no
going back from that moment. That was when he knew he w
as hooked.

Adam shook his head. The truth was, the idea of proposing to her had been lurking in the depths of his mind for weeks before he’d found the courage in Santorini. If he’d never found the nerve, everything would be how it used to be. He’d be in bed with Sarah, sleeping soundly after having almost-guaranteed
Friday
night
sex, instea
d of sitting up at nearly three in the morning, reading her diary like a sad loner. But then again, he wouldn’t have found out about Claire – or the stepfather she hated so much. He wondered whether she’d have told him all this if he’d succeeded in
getting
her to talk or whether she’d have kept some of it to herself. After pressing for answers, he was starting to feel as though he were finally
getting
somewhere. It was just odd that it was coming from the pages of a diary rather than from Sarah herself. She’d probably
be mor
tified if she knew. And that was another strange thing. The contrast between her then and now was so apparent. Sharing her experiences with Claire, going out of her way to lie to her parents, embracing her rebellious streak. Why had she changed? Why had she clammed up to the point where she never even spoke
to
her
family
, let alone talked
about
them?