The next couple of weeks pass in a sun-soaked blur of kissing Cal, hanging out with Cassie and avoiding my sister. Cassie gives me a new thing for the day when she remembers. Some of my favourites include:
But I can’t even focus on today’s new thing because I have made a catastrophic mistake. I looked at a calendar. Only twelve days until results day. I kept counting and re-counting the weeks as if they would magically change if I counted them enough times, but they didn’t, and when I turned away from the wall I realized my chest felt tight and I’d dug little crescent moons into the palms of my hands.
Cassie will distract me. I can’t wait to spend some time with her away from the ice-cream stand. My mum offers to give me a lift, but I say no way and tell her to have a chill morning to herself. I pack the huge family picnic blanket and take the bus to Seaforth where I meet Cassie at the bus stop, who instantly wraps her arms around me and I breathe her in and everything feels right. I squeeze her back, then it strikes me that maybe I’ve held on a moment too long, so I pull away. I move so fast that neither of us knows where to look. Thankfully, we head for the corner shop to pick up some goodies for our picnic, and things get back to normal.
Despite the (mercifully) slightly grey clouds, it’s still a Saturday and the beach is busy. We walk down the sand, away from Seaforth’s famously loud and colourful pier, to a stretch of sand that’s less densely populated. I spread out the picnic blanket with a flourish. We lower ourselves onto it in as dignified a manner as possible before taking all our delicious purchases out of the paper bag.
We congratulate ourselves on our excellent food choices for this picnic, a perfect array of olives, marinated anchovies, fancy bread, a couple of nice cheeses.
‘Not to forget …’ Cassie says, producing a plastic container from her bag, ‘patties.’
‘OMG, exciting!’
‘They’re not that exciting. Well, I guess my mum made them from scratch so credit where credit’s due.’
‘Exciting for me because I’ve never tried one before.’
‘What?! You’ve never had a Jamaican patty?’
‘I don’t think so …’
‘A perfect new thing of the day!’ Cassie says, handing me one of the pleasingly sunny-yellow patties, dense and satisfying to hold in my hand, with its perfectly-crimped edges.
I take a bite. ‘Perfection.’
‘See what you’ve been missing out on your whole life?’
For dessert, we’ve chosen two swirly buns covered in white icing with a glacé cherry on top, like a glinting jewel.
‘These are so perfect,’ I say between mouthfuls.
‘The concept cannot be improved upon. Can you imagine if they tried to make these fancy? You would totally mess them up.’
‘They are exactly as they should be,’ I nod, sagely.
‘I saw on Instagram earlier that Will and Clem from art are interrailing around Europe this summer. They’re in Italy now and I think they just came from Greece, but you know what? I’m not even jealous!’
‘You really mean that you’d rather work on the ice-cream stand and eat cheese on a cloudy beach with me than travel around Italy?’ I say, fixing her with my most sceptical look.
‘No obviously I would rather be messing around in the sunshine,’ she replies, like I’m the stupidest person in the world. ‘But what I mean is, like, given I am not at liberty to travel and spend extravagantly, hanging out with you all summer is not so bad. I’m not, like, mad about it, you know? I’m content as is – much like this excellent bun.’
I smile. It feels good to play a part in her summer.
‘I know you’ve had the stuff with Daisy, but this summer’s been kind of fun, too, right?’
‘Yeah!’ I say, gamely.
‘I mean, you’ve really thrown yourself into this whole relationship thing with Cal!’ Cassie says. She almost sounds impressed. ‘Not usually something in the Lily Rose Comfort Zone!’
‘Oh … I mean … I guess?’ I furrow my brow instinctively. ‘Haven’t you with Jack?’
Cassie laughs. ‘No, not really! It was sort of a one-time thing. Or maybe a two-time thing. I mean, we went out a couple of times and it was fine, but it’s not like we had a connection or chemistry or anything. Not like you and Cal.’
I feel a little bit strange with this new information. I had assumed that Cassie and Jack were still merrily seeing each other and I just hadn’t wanted to ask too much about it.
‘Oh … yeah, I guess I am,’ I say. Even though I don’t really know how I feel about the whole situation, I do feel very protective of Cal, who is indisputably wonderful and who I am lucky to know, let alone date. ‘It seems to be going well.’
‘I guess I thought Cal would have mentioned that we fizzled out, seeing as he sees Jack pretty constantly!’
‘Yeah, he’s not … gossipy, like that, I guess?’
‘Well, you two have probably got better things to talk about. Speaking of which: you’ve slept together now, right?’ Cassie asks. I nod, wordlessly, hoping that’s enough. ‘How was it?’
‘Yeah, it wasn’t, like, bad or anything.’
‘But … was it good?’
‘Yes!’ I say, defensively, as if it’s ridiculous for her to even ask. ‘It was really good. Cal’s … talented,’ I say. As an uncomfortable expression instantly clouds Cassie’s face, I’m hit with the horrible realization that I’m trying to make her jealous. What the hell?!
‘Well, I’m glad to hear that,’ she says, looking out to the sea. She doesn’t ask anything more about it, which I’m relieved about. ‘Oh!’ Cassie rummages in her bag and produces a brightly coloured card from between the pages of her book. ‘You said it was Michael and Mark’s anniversary, so I whipped up this little card.’
‘They’ll be delighted! You’re too cute, honestly. Thanks, Cassie.’
Cassie pauses for a second, opens her mouth, closes it again. ‘Are you feeling OK?’ she asks, finally. ‘Like, in general?’
‘Yeah, why?’ I ask too quickly. ‘Feeling OK about what?’
‘Um … I don’t know, really. I just thought maybe you seemed stressed about something, or distracted, I guess. Like beyond what’s going on with Daisy. Like … if I was gonna draw you right now I would draw you with this little swarm of bees buzzing around your head.’ When I don’t answer, she continues, ‘You’re my best friend. I wouldn’t be very good at all this if I didn’t notice when you seem different. When you seem kind of unhappy.’
I swallow down all the things that are still too confusing and difficult to even begin to unpick. I think about telling her the real story with Daisy, the fact that I kept the whole Cal thing from her, but I realize I don’t like talking to Cassie about Cal. I want to keep them separate. ‘I guess I’m stressed about next year, you know? The unknown.’
‘Will you miss me?’ Cassie asks, playfully.
‘Are you serious?’ I say, taken aback. ‘A lot. An unhealthy amount.’
‘I’m not going anywhere, it’s not like we’re dying.’
‘I know that … it’s just a long way.’
‘And besides, you’re the one who’s leaving. That’s always easier,’ she says, looking down at her manicured hand resting on the picnic blanket.
‘Easier than what?’ I ask.
‘Being the one who stays behind.’ She wrinkles her nose but doesn’t look at me. ‘You’ve got a whole life to build. Mine will look pretty much the same.’
‘You’ll probably go to uni the next year, after you’ve done your art foundation course though, right? Like that’s why you’re doing it?’
She sighs. ‘Yeah, I know that, but it feels a long way off. I’m kind of jealous of you getting to have an adventure now while I have to wait here for my life to begin. And without you, while you’re having fun and going out with loads of new people in a new place. And forgetting about me …’
I don’t know what to say to her. I want to tell her that going to university feels like a huge mistake, like I’m just not ready for it, like I don’t want to go and leave the only place I’ve ever lived and leave my best friend who I love so much. But I don’t know how to say that without saying it directly, because saying it out loud would mean that I would have to do something about it or act on it and it’s all too far down the road for that now. My only hope is that results day is a massive disaster! But I don’t want her to think that I’m just skipping merrily off into the sunset to start a new life hundreds of miles away with loads of new people and that I’m going to forget about her. I could never, ever forget about her.
‘I don’t think it’ll be that fun,’ I say, quietly.
‘Come on! You don’t need to make me feel better about it! It’s fine, really. I just wanted you to know I’ll really miss you when you’re gone. That’s all,’ she says, but she looks scared, like she knows she came close to unearthing something I didn’t want her to. She looks at me quietly for a moment, as if expecting me to unburden myself to her. But I don’t.
I want to. And not just about university and the future. I want to talk to her about myself. I want to explain myself to her, and show her all the things that I don’t really understand. I want to show her who I am and ask if that’s OK with her. I want to take all the little fragments of my feelings and see if she can help me put them together. I want to be assured of who I am but also feel vulnerable enough to leave room for the nerves and the excitement. And I don’t want to do that with anyone else.
Ever since I met her, everything has felt a bit more right. A bit more like I’m at home. Every time I see her, I want to know when I’m seeing her again. A breeze has started along the beach, whipping the sand up in places, and I turn my head away from her and towards the direction of the wind and let it blow in my face. Because here and now, on this beach, on this Sunday, under this sky, I can finally see it. The truth.
I breathe in with shallow breaths as I realize the thing I’ve been avoiding all this time, the truth that I’ve been refusing to confront. I love Cassie. I love her in a way that’s different to friendship. I love her and I’m in love with her and it’s crept up on me in the past two years and I should have felt it coming and I didn’t. I feel like a mosquito suspended in amber, something frozen in time, all my thoughts swirling around my head, finally understanding everything, finally understanding the meaning of things people had said to me, assumptions people had made. The pain that other people could see before I could. The fear that Cassie can see it too.
‘Hey,’ she says, putting her arm around me, which makes me jump in surprise and then shrink in fear. ‘Are you alright?’
I turn back to her, not wanting to cry. ‘Yeah. I’m alright.’ A real new thing. Acknowledging that I’m in love with Cassie.
On the bus back to Weston Bay, I lean my head against the grimy glass, close my eyes and just sit and think. For the first time I let myself look the whole situation in the face. It makes me feel tired, the idea of having to do something about it. The pressure of living differently. But it’s all academic, because the one thing I would never want to do is compromise my friendship with Cassie.
To tell her how I feel and be rejected … to have her know that I love her and never be able to unsay it … it would pollute every interaction we ever have from now on. Unthinkable. I can’t lose her. Not to time, not to distance, not to a guy, not to anything. And what about Cal? How can I feel so attracted to him if I know how I feel about Cassie?
I get off the bus a stop later than I usually would and walk round to Uncle Michael and Mark’s house. We’re having a highly informal tea and cake round at theirs to celebrate their wedding anniversary. We all mutually agreed it was – gasp – too hot for a roast, so we figured cake on a Saturday is just as good as roast on Sunday. As well as keeping up appearances for my whole family, I’ve also got the Daisy situation to contend with. I would very much rather curl up in a ball and fall asleep. Focus on getting through tea first. Then figure out how to bury the fact that I’m completely in love with my best friend in the whole wide world, who almost definitely doesn’t feel the same way about me.
Gran answers the door. ‘Good timing, Lil – I just made a chocolate cake with that chocolate buttercream filling you like. It was funny using someone else’s kitchen, but I did my best …’
‘Hi, Gran,’ I say, but she’s already halfway to the kitchen to retrieve the cake.
‘Hello, baby!’ Mum trills from the living room.
When I enter, Uncle Michael and Mark are side by side on the sofa, holding hands and watching a quiz show on TV. ‘Alright, Lily?’ they say simultaneously, standing to greet me. I feel sad to disturb the serenity of the moment with my presence. They look so uncomplicatedly happy. It melts me a bit.
‘Happy anniversary!’ I say, enveloping them in a group hug. ‘I can’t believe you’ve been married for four years, isn’t that mad?’
‘It honestly feels like it was yesterday,’ Uncle Michael says, sitting back down on the sofa.
‘You and Daisy in those sweet matching yellow dresses.’ Mark closes his eyes in delight and clutches his chest.
‘We were thirteen! A decidedly un-cute age.’
‘No!’ Michael protests. ‘You two are always the sweetest little things, however old you are.’
‘Aren’t you, Dais?’ Mark nudges Daisy who’s emerged from the kitchen with a tray full of cups and little slices of perfect chocolate sponge.
‘Oh, hi, Lily. I didn’t know you were here,’ she says coldly, setting the china down on the coffee table before returning to the kitchen. Michael and Mark frown at Mum in the armchair and then look at me for an explanation, but I just shrug as if it’s a mystery to me. I instantly hate myself for the betrayal but I’m not going to make tonight all about me and Daisy.
We eat our cake and watch the quiz show, Mark shouting answers between mouthfuls. ‘Vanuatu!’ and ‘Jeremy Bentham!’ and ‘Beryllium!’
‘Where do you store all this information?’ Uncle Michael marvels, shaking his head at Mark.
‘Aren’t you glad you married a genius?’
‘Even if you weren’t a genius I would still be glad I married you, because you’re so bloody kind,’ he says, kissing him on the side of the head.
‘Anyone would have been a step up from Jason, though,’ Mum says, rolling her eyes. ‘He was a right old whiner.’
‘And he was so rude to that waiter that time we all went for dinner up in London, don’t you remember, Luce?’ Gran turns to Mum for back-up.
‘Course I remember! Acting like it was his fault they were out of pheasant or whatever random meat he wanted. Awful man.’
‘I was young! He was rich!’ Michael wails.
‘You weren’t that young,’ Gran scoffs.
‘Yeah, you were literally in your thirties,’ Mum says, reaching across from her armchair and poking her brother in the arm.
Mark is clearly loving it. ‘Well, thank god I sat next to you on the night bus home from Pride all those years ago, is all I’m saying.’
The mention of Pride brings the homophobic posters crashing into my brain. And with it comes the realization that they are also targeting … me. First I was outraged on behalf of all the LGBTQIA+ people in my town. And now I guess I’m one of them. The thought leaves me with my forkful of cake suspended in mid-air, my mouth open, sat on the shaggy carpet rug beside Daisy. I sense Daisy’s eyes on me, but when I look at her, she averts her gaze.
‘Oh!’ I remember Cassie’s card. I retrieve it from my bag where I’ve stored it in the back cover of a book so it didn’t get bent. ‘This is from Cassie,’ I say, handing it over to my uncle. He brushes the crumbs off his hands and takes it from me. He opens it and shows it to Mark. It’s handmade, bold and graphic pieces of cut-out paper spelling HAPPY ANNIVERSARY in vivid, blocky writing. She has a way of making everything look cool and modern and unstudied, from her clothes to her cards.
‘What a great girl she is. It’s so sweet of her to think of us,’ Uncle Michael says warmly, getting up from the sofa to put the card on the mantelpiece.
As if he knows that Cassie and dating are related, Mark asks Mum, ‘How’s your dating life going, Luce?’
Mum blushes. ‘Well …’
‘Well what?!’ Michael demands, enthused.
‘I was going to ask you two,’ she says, turning her head to where Daisy and I are sitting side by side. ‘If you wouldn’t mind staying in tomorrow night. I’ve asked him round for dinner.’
‘Bloody hell, you sly dog!’ Michael shakes his head in mock disapproval.
‘Who is this man? Is he the one from the … app?’ Gran ventures, trying out her recently acquired technological knowledge.
‘Actually yes,’ Mum says quietly. ‘His name is Tony and he’s very nice and that’s all I’ll say on the matter.’
‘Well, I’ll be there,’ Daisy says. ‘Who knows if Lily can make time in her busy schedule.’
‘You don’t need to worry about me, Daisy,’ I say, sickly sweet, almost glad of the stupid distraction from what’s going on in my head. ‘You know I’ve always got time for the fair and equal pursuit of love.’
‘Thanks girls,’ says Mum, swallowing the last of her cake and choosing to ignore whatever’s going on between us.
I look at Cassie’s card on the mantelpiece and am filled with pride at knowing her. At the thought that she chose me to be her best friend. I shouldn’t want to disrupt that. I don’t want to disrupt that. I won’t disrupt that.
Once we get home Mum settles in to do some reading in the living room, Crystal perched around her neck like a scarf. I’m about to join them when Daisy pads into the room and sits next to Mum. Instinctively, my body tenses. I don’t really know how to behave around her. I start to head towards the door.
‘So you girls are OK to meet Tony? I know it’s soon, but I guess I just don’t want to get too invested in him if you two think he’s no good,’ Mum says, halting my escape.
‘That’s a lot of responsibility,’ I say.
‘It’s not that,’ she says. ‘It’s just that I think you’re good judges of character. And you’re the most important people in my life.’
‘Well, it’ll be an honour to judge his character,’ I say, plucking up the courage to look directly at Daisy, who nods in assent. One thing that can guarantee our cooperation: Mum. I stretch out my arms so Crystal disembarks from around my mum’s neck and comes to me.
‘We were always seeing each other tomorrow night, but I asked if he wanted to come here rather than us driving out to that pub with the fancy restaurant in it, you know the one …’ Mum says, casting about for the name. ‘He seemed a bit wary at first, I guess because it is quite soon.’
‘You gotta do what you gotta do,’ I say decisively.
‘I hope you like him.’
‘Same,’ I say, stroking Crystal’s fluffy tail.
‘Oh! There was something else I wanted to talk to you girls about.’
‘Uh-oh,’ I say.
‘It’s about Crystal.’
‘Oh my god, what’s wrong?’ Daisy gasps.
‘Nothing’s wrong – as you can see she’s in perfect health. We’ve done a really good job of looking after her.’
‘So?’ Daisy urges.
‘It’s time for Crystal to go back to her real home,’ says Mum. ‘I didn’t want to say too much at the time, but Crystal came from a woman who had been bringing her in for a while, whose husband was …’ She clears her throat and touches her nose – a familiar nervous tic. ‘Abusive. Violent. She wanted to leave him but didn’t want to leave Crystal with him, and she knew she would find it hard to get somewhere to live if she had a cat with her. So I said I would look after her until things were more stable. That’s why she’s not allowed outside – we didn’t want her to find her way home or for him to see her on the street.’
I feel a lump in my throat. For Crystal, and for her owner, and for my mum.
‘So she’s found somewhere to live?’
‘Yes, she’s got a place now, in another town, where some of her family live, and she can have Crystal back.’
We don’t say anything for a moment. Crystal leaps down off my lap and curls up between my mum and Daisy.
‘I’ve got to wrestle her into her carrier on Monday and drive her to a service station down the motorway after I’m finished at the surgery.’
‘We’ll miss you, Crystal,’ I say. Daisy strokes her in her little dip in the sofa where the two cushions meet.
‘She’ll miss you, too,’ Mum says.
I retreat to my room. I’m itching to paint. I get out my acrylics and put some old newspaper down on the floor so I don’t wreck the carpet. My art teacher used to put on classical music while the A level students were working because she thought it would calm and inspire us, so I find a classical music playlist and flick through all of the tracks until I find one that I recognize and makes me feel at home. I settle on Bach’s Cello Suite No. 1 and start putting lines on the page, building the structure and fleshing out the outline and softening it. I try not to think so hard, and add depth and shadow, making it more real and making it perfect and making it human. Making it Cassie. The person who’s always on my mind.
I’ve always said I don’t like to paint or draw people because I think it’ll reveal something about me on the page. Maybe this is the thing I’ve been scared of revealing, even to myself.
I’m in love with Cassie. I’m in love with Cassie. And I’ve always been in love with Cassie. Cal is wonderful in so many ways and I’m so attracted to him. But he’s not her. She’s all there is.
Does this mean I’m gay? I mean … it can’t, right? I fancy Cal. I fancy Cal a lot. But that just doesn’t eclipse what feel for Cassie. It’s like it’s all those feelings can be happening at the same time, but it’s what I feel for Cassie that burns brightest. I guess that means I’m … bi. I’m bi. I am bisexual. That’s me. That’s the answer.
It’s Cal I should be friends with and Cassie I should be in a relationship with – I’ve had it the wrong way round the whole time.