This is January:
This is February:
This is March:
Full
of
h o l e s.
It’s been a while since I sat with Lauren or Sienna at school. I haven’t been avoiding them, it’s just we’ve been running in different circles. Parallel paths, not crossing. Same place, same age, different lives. Still, I find myself missing them. Missing normality.
I thought I wanted this. I do want it, but can’t I have both?
Lauren/Sienna vs Finn’s crowd
Can’t I have it all?
I find Lauren and Sienna in the common room at lunchtime.
“Hey,” I say.
“The ugly duckling returns,” Sienna says, looking me up and down, “a beautiful swan. Nice ribs.”
I clutch my middle. I guess I have lost weight. Dancing burns a lot of calories.
“I’m not here to fight. I thought … wondered if you wanted to come over, after school.”
“Finn busy?”
“No … I just… Look, don’t make this hard. I’m trying to… Never mind.” I turn to leave.
“Yeah, we’d love to come over,” Lauren says. “Wouldn’t we?”
“Fine. That’d be nice,” Sienna says, tight-lipped. “But don’t think we’re going out car-jacking with you.”
“Sienna!” Lauren says. I swing around.
“You don’t have to come,” I say to Sienna.
She shrugs. “We’ll come.”
After school, we walk across the park towards my house, but I’m too tired to cartwheel, too knackered even to form proper sentences, let alone flip and twist my body in the air. I’m always tired these days.
We go up to my room and stick a film on, but end up chatting and completely ignoring it and it actually feels kind of nice. I’ve been severely neglecting them recently. Sienna has every right to be mad.
A packet of Jaffa Cakes and a tube of Pringles later, Lauren asks if we can talk about something more serious. I assume she means revision, but no.
“Are you all right?” she asks.
“What do you mean?”
“Since you got with Finn you’ve been pretty wrapped up in him and that’s cool. It’s new, it’s exciting, I get it. But you’re exhausted and you’re not turning in your work and … I don’t know” – she looks to Sienna for support – “you seem kind of fuzzy.”
“Fuzzy?”
“Like you go so mental at the weekend that you’re hardly recovered by Friday and then you go out and do it all again,” Sienna says.
“Oh.”
I feel myself prickle. Is it really that noticeable?
“You think I’m a dirty chemical-head,” I say.
“No… Just… Why do you do it to yourself?”
I avoid the question. “You didn’t say that about Georgia or Greg or Finn when you introduced them. You said they were popular. You even said you liked them.”
“Well, they don’t get so” – Sienna searches for the right word – “messed up as you. And we thought it was just a crush. We didn’t think you’d actually end up going out with him. ”
“Oh, great. Not only did you think Finn was so out of my league it would never happen, you also think I’m a total weakling who can’t handle the after-effects of a couple of nights out.”
We’re supposed to be doing these things, aren’t we? These are the best years of our lives and all that crap.
“It’s just you’ve got more to lose than they have. We’re worried about you. It’s not really my thing. I’m not exactly a waster, like yo– like that lot. I spent Friday night watching The Great British Bake Off and balling my socks. But you don’t seem to cope so well with the after-effects. That’s all I’m saying.”
“I’m fine. Like you said, you don’t know anything about it.” Anger wraps around my head and chest.
“Finn’s corrupting you.” Coming from Lauren, this hits me in the gut.
“Before you know it,” Sienna says, “you’ll be working a life sentence at Asda, still getting wrecked at every opportunity, while Finn Jr steals money from your purse to go out and get trolleyed with Daddy down the pub every night.”
“You paint a pretty picture, Sienna.”
I want them to stop talking. I want to put my hands to my ears and scream to block them out, but something stops me. Am I fighting with them … or me?
“I didn’t see it before but Finn’s charm is just an act,” Lauren says. “He’s always thinking about himself, how things can benefit him. Does he tell you why you’re his perfect girl? Or does he just flatter you? Does he show an interest in your life at all? He’s good-looking, sure, but what about the rest? I bet he can’t even list your AS-levels. How can he love you if he pushes you to do things that jeopardize your future? Think about it.”
Stop talking, please stop talking.
I don’t want to think about it. Finn and I have made a perfect little world and no one can destroy it. I feel cold, like the room has just dropped five degrees. I tense all over, barriers up. Too late. The ideas are already setting up camp in my mind, lighting a fire that’s bound to spread until it consumes me. I bring my hand to my cheek, wiping a tear.
“I think you should go.”
“I didn’t mean to upset you but you’ve got to wake up. He’s bad news.”
I thought they were my friends.
Yet … I don’t think I’d be so mad and upset unless I was beginning to think they might be right.
I think about the changes I’ve made to fit in with Finn’s lifestyle. It’s what I’ve wanted, but somehow, I don’t feel like myself any more. And what has he sacrificed for this relationship? I can’t think of a single thing.
I try to shake off these thoughts. He loves me. He loves me. He loves me. He said it and that has to mean something.