Authors: Sarah Webb
Wedding Belles (9 page)
Siúcra!
“Yes, Mum,” I say loudly. “But I’m just going upstairs to have a shower.”
“Come here first.”
I sigh and walk through the kitchen doorway. Mum is leaning against the sink. Behind her, through the window, I can see Dave throwing Alex up in the air and catching him. Evie is sitting on a rug on the grass, giggling at them and clapping her hands. They look so happy, and it just makes me feel all the more sad.
“Not going to the parade with Mills and her folks?” Mum asks me.
I shake my head. “I think I’ll give it a miss this year.”
“Are you sick? It’s not like you to miss the Paddy’s parade.” She reaches out a hand to touch my forehead, but I step back.
“I’m fine. I think I just need some rest. I’ll be in my room if you need me.” I go to leave, but she puts a hand on my shoulder.
“Amy, what’s up?” she asks gently. “Did you have another fight with Mills?”
We have had two almighty falling-outs, all right, but thankfully that’s all in the past, and we’ve both sworn that it’s never going to happen again. Best friends forever.
I shake my head, pressing my lips together to stop myself from crying again. “I’m all right, Mum, honestly.”
“You’re clearly not. What it is, pet? Come on, you can tell me.”
My bottom lip starts to wobble.
“Amy, please, you’re worrying me. Is it about Clover’s trip to New York? Or Polly?”
I shake my head. “No. It’s Seth. We broke up.”
“Oh, Amy, I’m so sorry. I’ll miss him. He was such a nice lad.”
“Mum! It’s not about you.”
She winces. “Sorry, sorry, you’re right. And I know there’s nothing I can say that will make things any better for you. Breakups are rough at any age. There is a pot of posh chocolate ice cream hidden behind the French fries in the freezer if that helps.”
I’m sitting in my bedroom with Mills, digging a spoon into the pot of Ben & Jerry’s Chocolate Fudge Brownie. It’s later the same day. She came by after the parade. I couldn’t face food earlier and I barely ate anything at dinner, but I feel a bit better now. And funnily enough, like Mum said, the ice cream is helping my mood a little.
My mobile beeps and I check it, telling myself it’s definitely not Seth before I look at the screen (even though a tiny fairy of hope is still flickering around in my head). I was right — it’s Clover.
HEY, BABES, YOU’VE FILED THAT ARTICLE, RIGHT?;)
I groan.
“Who is it?” Mills asks.
“Clover. I was supposed to write this article on kissing for the
Goss
. I’ll have to tell her I can’t do it. I hate letting her down, but . . .” I trail off.
Mills’s eyes widen. “An article for the
Goss
? By yourself?”
I nod.
“Wow! That’s amazing, Amy. Your very first solo article.”
“But I can’t do it.”
“Why not?”
I shrug. “You know.”
“Seth?”
I nod.
“Ah, Ames, writing an article for the
Goss
is a big deal. You can’t let breaking up with Seth ruin things for you. Clover won’t always be around to hold your hand and it’s a huge opportunity to show the magazine what you can do without her help.”
“What do you mean? Clover’s not going anywhere.” Does Mills know about New York?
“It’s only a matter of time. This is Clover we’re talking about — the coolest girl on the planet. Once she’s got her degree, do you really think Dublin will be big enough to hold her? I bet she’ll get job offers all over the world — Paris, London, New York — ”
“Clover loves Dublin,” I cut in quickly. “And she loves working for the
Goss
. She’s not going anywhere.”
Mills goes quiet. She just sits there, gazing down at her hands. After a few seconds, she lifts her head and says, “Sometimes if you love someone, you have to let them go, Amy.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.” But is Mills right — is Dublin too small for Clover? Does she need to spread her wings? New York would be so exciting, and in my heart, I know she’d be crazy not to take that
Vogue
internship. I wish I’d plucked up the courage to ask her about it the other night. What if she does go? What will I do without her? Especially now that I’ve lost Seth. I couldn’t bear it if Clover left me too.
“Clover loves Dublin,” I say firmly. “But it’s true that the kissing article is an amazing opportunity and I don’t want to let Clover down. Will you help me, Mills? Write it, I mean.”
“Of course. What are friends for? At least we do know what we’re talking about now.”
I type
THE ULTIMATE TEEN GUIDE TO SMOOCHING, BY AMY GREEN
into the computer and then read it out loud to Mills.
“What about ‘Kissing with Confidence’ as a title?” Mills says.
I smile to myself.
That was the title I suggested to Clover a long time ago for one of her articles. I secretly wrote to her, looking for kissing advice, signing my name “Samantha.” She knew it was me. “Who else would give me an idea for an article, complete with a perfect title, Beanie?” she asked me.
She never wrote the article, but she did give me valuable step-by-step smooching instructions. Only Clover could do that! God, I’m going to miss her.
“Amy? Do you like the title?”
“Sorry, yes, it’s great. Nice work, Mills.”
Kissing with Confidence:
The Ultimate Teen Guide to Smooching
by Amy Green
It’s quite normal to be nervous about your first kiss (or “meet”). Whatever anyone says, it is a big deal, and it’s something that you’ll remember for the rest of your life — yep, even when you’re old and wrinkly!
So first things first — don’t kiss any old frog (or boy), just so you can say you’ve kissed someone. You don’t want to look back and think, “Why did I smooch that slimy swimming fan/deranged musichead/loopy skateboarder? Yuck!”
Don’t rush into kissing someone just because all your friends have done it either.
If the thought of kissing someone makes you feel uncomfortable in any way, or you think you aren’t ready yet, then you should wait. It’s as simple as that. It’s not an age thing. Some girls feel ready at twelve, for others, it’s fifteen — everyone’s different.
OK, so there’s a guy you like. If he seems nice and the thought of getting closer to him makes you nervous but excited, you are probably ready for your first kiss.
So you feel ready for your first kiss. What next? I’m a big fan of getting to know the boy first. That way your first kiss will be special, and not just a few minutes spent locking lips with some randomer.
Some people have their first kiss at a party, others have a boyfriend for a little while before kissing him, or have a boyfriend who they never kiss. Every single person in the world is different and every first kiss is different.
So you’ve found a boy you like? How do you know if that boy wants to kiss you? Unfortunately, there’s no secret signal! He might make it obvious by asking if he can kiss you, or he might not.
Generally if you are sitting together, just the two of you, and he’s smiling, laughing, or holding your hand — flirting basically — chances are he might like to kiss you. You can encourage him by smiling and laughing back. Then he will probably lean toward you or stroke your hair and then your lips will touch for the first time.
I have to stop typing because Mills is squealing. “Can you really write that, Ames? About lips touching?” Her cheeks are bright pink.
“Mills, hasn’t the penny dropped yet? We’re writing a proper guide to kissing — with all the juicy details!”
She giggles nervously. “OK, but it’s still a bit weird to talk about lips touching.”
I smile. Mills has always been funny about things like boys and kissing. She takes it all way too seriously.
I continue:
OK, so your lips have touched, now what? Then you press your lips against his and kiss him back, keeping your lips firm and active, not floppy.
“Floppy?” Mills giggles again, but I just roll my eyes at her.
And here’s a tip — most boys don’t have a clue how to kiss the first time either. Here are some of the worst kind of offenders:
* Washing-machine boys — their tongues go around and around, and their kisses are wet!
* Lizard boys — their tongues flick in and out, in and out. Unpleasant!
* Dead tongue — they flop it into your mouth and leave it there. Yuck!
Mills is shrieking and holding her flaming cheeks in her hands now, and I’m chuckling away at her embarrassment.
“Mills, how did you ever kiss Bailey if you find the whole smooching business so mortifying?”
“It’s different with Bailey. It seems natural. You know like you — ” She had been about to say “you and Seth” before she stopped herself. “Sorry,” she says.
“It’s OK.” I try to shrug off my sadness and finish the article.
How long should a kiss last? A few seconds, a few minutes — there’s no set time as long as it’s fun. You’re not trying to set a Guinness World Record. And remember to breathe!
What happens if I do something daft, like knock his teeth with mine?
Yep, this is based on my own experience with Seth at Sophie’s end-of-term party almost a year ago. But it might just help someone who is in the same awkward position. I ran off and hid in the bathroom after it happened to me, but that probably wasn’t the best way to deal with it. I have a much better solution for the
Goss
readers:
Laugh it off and try again.
And here’s the important bit: never do anything that makes you feel awkward or that you don’t like. Ever!
Try to kiss with confidence. Pretend you know what you are doing even if you don’t. And with a bit of fun practice, it will all click into place. But the truth is: The best kisses of all are kisses with a boy you really, really like and who likes you back. With the right boy, kissing can make your heart sing!
“I miss Seth,” I say simply.
“I know, Ames,” Mill says, giving me a hug. “And I’m so sorry.” She doesn’t tell me that it’ll be OK or that I’ll forget about him soon, and I love her for it. Because it won’t be OK and I won’t forget him, ever.
Mills and I get the train to school as usual on Tuesday (Monday was a holiday), and neither of us mentions the elephant in the car — the fact that Seth and Bailey have obviously taken a different train to avoid us, or me, to be more exact. Instead we talk about the Saint Patrick’s Day parade, the Boston Twirlers (Mills says they were amazing), and me going wedding-dress shopping with Mum on Thursday evening. Clover and I are taking Mum to a swish wedding boutique called Butterfly Bridal. In fact, we talk about everything except what’s really on my mind — seeing Seth again.
The first time I see him is in the corridor just outside classics. He’s sitting staring down at the screen of his mobile, with his back against the wall and his head dipped. From the way his index finger is moving, I’d say he’s playing a game.
Feeling my gaze, he looks up. Our eyes lock. My stomach clenches anxiously and a lump forms in my throat. He gives me a gentle smile.
“Hi, Seth,” I say, just about able to get the words out.
“Hiya,” he says back.
It all feels really awkward. But I miss him so much, and I desperately want to talk to him. Even just for a second. I’m about to ask him how Polly’s been feeling the last few days, when Annabelle says, “Are you going inside or what, Green? You’re blocking the door.”
“Better go in,” I tell him, ignoring Annabelle.
“See you later,” he says. He doesn’t get up, which implies that he has no intention of joining me, so I walk into the classroom on my own, trying to concentrate on where to sit instead of feeling sad. Normally I head for the back row beside Seth, but today is different. I don’t want to spend the whole class wondering how he’s feeling, desperately wanting to talk to him about Polly, about us, about anything, wanting to connect with him but knowing that I can’t, that being “friends” will hurt too much. If he even wants to be friends, that is.