Tessa in Love (5 page)

I drooped a little bit, thinking maybe he was in love with Lara.

‘ . . . Chunk’s also great, really funny, but sarcastic and Jane’s really smart. It’s going to be great.’

‘And ... ?’ It occurred to me that there wasn’t really anything for me to do. I sipped my espresso. Actually I didn’t like espresso –
yet
– but I’d made a new year’s resolution to develop a taste for it, because I thought it was more sophisticated than my usual hot chocolate with squirty cream. I usually had to put tons of sugar in it, but was pretending to Wolfie that I drank it straight.

‘Oh we totally want you to help. You’re very sincere and . . . you know,
passionate
when you talk about the wood (I felt myself blush when he used the word ‘passionate’). I bet you’ll come up with something good. I’m taking some pictures. We’re going to make it look really professional – take it seriously. Tug at some heartstrings and get some serious backing. The store still has to get through another council appeal for planning permission before they can start, and you never know.’

‘God, do you really think we could make a difference?’

‘It’s got to be worth a try,’ he said. ‘Listen, how about if you come with me now and we can scope out some shots for me to take that would work with the thing you’re gonna write. But I know it’s a bit of a cheek, you’re with your friends . . .’ He glanced at me, looking almost shy, utterly gorgeous, then looked down. ‘We could do it another time, if you’re too busy. It’s OK.’

‘No, I mean, there must be a deadline, right?’ I said, hopefully.

‘Oh yeah, there’s a deadline of
course
– the sooner the better.’

‘I think Matty and Lee’ll be fine without me,’ I said, nodding. ‘I’ll just go and tell them I have to go.’

‘Wait!’ Wolfie said, urgently.

‘What?’

‘But you’ve still got all that coffee to drink.’

I looked at him, having taken at least three whole seconds to realise he was joking, and then I just let out this huge laugh.

‘I’ll be right back,’ I said again.

‘I’ll be here,’ he said, glancing over at Lee and Matty.

‘Is everything OK?’ Matty said, narrowing her eyes while she tried to work me out, and why I’d left them for so long.

‘Yeah, it’s good,’ I said breezily. ‘Wolfie and his mates are doing a sort of feature for the local paper, about the Wood, you know, and the protest, and I said I’d give them a hand. There’s just a bit of a rush, because the paper’s given them a deadline and they have to organise it, and we just want to talk about it for a bit. And you know how much homework we’ve got tonight.’

‘Yeah, sure,’ Matty said. ‘I just wanted to know everything was OK . . .’

‘So what’s with the crusty-love?’ Lee said. ‘You sure you want to hang out with those weirdos? You’ll come back with your nose pierced and your hair in dreadlocks.’

‘It’s just about this wood . . .’ I said.

‘I told him,’ Matty said.

‘Smoking da gan-jaaaa,’ Lee said. ‘Da ganja weeeed.’

‘They’re not crusties,’ I said. I wondered if I should stay until I could assure Matty I really
wanted
to go with Wolfie and wasn’t just worried about cramping her style. But this was not a good time to admit I had a crush on him.

‘E me, message me,’ Matty said.

‘Sure,’
I said. ‘I’ll be home before you.’

The sun was low and shining a deep gold when we got to the Wood. Wolfie’s face was striped with shadows and, when the sun broke through the branches with dazzling rays, he looked beautiful – straight swingy hair catching the low light, his eyes narrowed against the glare. It wasn’t cold, but I found myself trembling all over, shivering sometimes, and hoped he didn’t see. I was talking too much, saying things that weren’t worth saying. He was much quieter, but when he did talk he was funny, or lovely. He talked about how much he loved the peacefulness, and at that point I told myself,
Shut up, Tessa – wait until he speaks.
Enjoy
the silence
! I was sure I was annoying him by now.

‘Sorry, I’m talking too much,’ I said.

‘No. You’re not,’ he said. ‘The point of this was for me to get a feel of how you think of the Wood – what you’re going to say. And then I’ll come back tomorrow and get down to it.’

‘I suppose I haven’t really had a chance to think it through yet. I could write something tonight and come back with you?’ I said, and then closed my eyes and waited for the rejection. This was, in Tessa World, a very big and very obvious pass. He didn’t answer for too long. I opened my eyes. He was looking straight at me. Just say it, I thought, just say no. Just say you need to be alone to work properly, but please let me down gently.

‘I’d love that,’ he said. This time I think I might actually have gasped.

Neither of us spoke and we just looked at each other, and he frowned just slightly, and I let my lips part just slightly, and I was thinking, please come here and kiss me, just kiss me, just once – that would be enough to make me happy for, oh, for ever, and I held my breath.

Then he said, ‘OK, shall we meet here tomorrow after school? As early as possible, because we want to get good light, I mean, even though this is nice now it won’t look as good in a black and white . . .’ and he started walking back out of the wood away from me. I followed, running to keep up.

I
did
get home before Matty.

W
hen I woke up I had about five seconds of normality and then I remembered the previous evening and what a fool I’d made of myself. I pulled the sheets over my head and groaned, wondering if I could get away with not getting up at all. Better make it early, Wolfie had said, and no wonder, when all it took was a bit of sunset to make me gape at him like a lost puppy. He must have known what was on my mind. How could I have thought he’d want to kiss me? For one thing, he was probably on the verge of going out with Lara – what with the way she defended him, the way he talked about her in that admiring way, and the fact that she had that gorgeous hair – and if he told his mates that I had some stupid crush on him, I’d never be able to face any of them again.

Then there was Matty, who was apologetic and worried about making me feel left out, and she had no idea that I’d been trying to get away so I could keep my crush a secret from her. I was being a terrible friend. But I didn’t want to tell her at all, now that I knew Wolfie wasn’t ever going to feel the same way about me. I was fed up with only confiding my romantic failings to her.

It was a busy day at school and we only really caught up with each other at the end of it in a free period.

‘So, yesterday,’ Matty said, ‘I think Lee said a lot of stupid stuff, and I want you to know it’s not what I think, and it’s not what
he
thinks, even. It’s just his sense of humour is sometimes a bit dodgy.’

‘Honestly, it’s fine,’ I said.

‘I do
not
want you and me to grow apart because you think my boyfriend doesn’t know when to stop.’

‘Oh, Matty, don’t be nuts. You know you can’t get rid of me. Why would the things he said upset me, anyway?’

‘Because you’re totally into Wolfie Cole,’ Matty said.

I gaped at her.

‘I’m right, aren’t I?’ she said.

I gaped at her some more.

She smiled. ‘I
am
right, then. Good, I’m glad I can still see right through you. Oh, you can so get him – this is going to be great. When are you seeing him next?’

‘Well, this evening, I’m supposed to be going to ... Oh, but listen, Matt, forget it anyway, because I’ve already made it obvious and he’s not interested. So yes, I fancy Wolfie, and yes, you’re some kind of evil genius, but it’s no good, and let’s not get upset about it – there’s plenty more fish in the sea.’

‘What are you talking about? What happened?’ Matty said.

I told her about the day before, in the Wood: how I’d stood right next to him, how I’d stared up at him with my lips open and then closed my eyes – all the techniques Matty herself had taught me to use to show a boy I was interested. And he’d legged it out of the wood like it was full of angry bears, and moved up the time of our next meeting to make it before tea, nowhere near date-time, so I wouldn’t get the wrong idea.

‘But you don’t
know
this for sure,’ Matty said.

‘He had every chance to let me know he felt the same way as me, and he couldn’t get away fast enough,’ I said.

‘Well,’ Matty said. ‘You’ve still got tonight to change his mind. What are you wearing?’

‘This,’ I said. ‘We’re going straight after school.’

Matty looked at me. I was wearing my oldest jeans and no make-up, and my hair was scraped back in a ponytail. I also had a
fabulous
new spot on my chin.

‘You’ve got time to change,’ she said.

‘But nothing to change into. Anyway, don’t you see? I wore this on purpose. Now he knows I fancy him, I have to look the
opposite
of trying to get him. If I turned up in a little skirt and make-up, he’d just call the whole thing off in horror.’

‘Or,’ Matty said, taking my hair out of its stubby little ponytail, ‘now, he’ll think you’ve hippie-fied yourself a bit to try to be the kind of girl he’d go for. Dressing down, becoming less
materialistic . . .’

‘Nooooo!’ I said. ‘Oh my God, there’s no way he could think that. Is there? No, I bet he thinks I’m too shallow to even be able to empathise enough to imagine that there was a possibility that. . .’

‘Shut up! You’re doing my head in,’ Matty said. ‘Have you seen him yet today?’

‘No. But what diff–’

‘Come on,’ she said. ‘There’s no time to lose.’

Matty took me to the drama studio, where there were little changing rooms to the side, and sat me down.

‘OK, have you got a T-shirt under there?’ she said, looking at my baggy jumper.

‘Yes, but it’s cold.’

‘Doesn’t matter – you’re taking my denim jacket. Is it a pretty one? Come on, get that thing off.’

It was a black T-shirt with a cute little drawing of a flower with a face on it, in white.

‘Good,’ Matty said. ‘All is not lost. Now, do you have your make-up with you?’

‘You know I only wear mascara,’ I said.

‘I know, I know,’ Matty said. ‘And you’re bloody well not today, even. Luckily, I am always fully armed ...’

She sat me down and for the next ten minutes smudged, powdered and painted my face. Part of me was terrified, I was thinking, ‘Oh my God, she’s going to make me look like a complete tart,’ but I was also secretly pleased, because I’d always wanted a ‘but Miss Taylor, you’re beautiful’ moment. Basically, though, I knew I was just one of those girls who looked terrible in lots of make-up and I didn’t fancy her chances.

‘Here,’ she said, handing me her compact mirror. I looked. I looked again. It looked as if I wasn’t wearing any make-up. I looked like me, but so much better. And my new friend, Spotty McZit, appeared to have gone
completely.

‘What did you ... ?’ I said.

I touched it, to feel where it was, and Matty screamed. ‘Agh! No touchy! Now off you go to the ball.’

‘Matty . . .’ I said, feeling all sentimental.

‘Yeah, I know,’ Matty said.

But my confidence started to drain away when I was on my own again. I cringed when I remembered the way I’d opened my eyes to find him just looking at me, clearly embarrassed, and the way he’d suggested we met earlier rather than later, because he obviously thought it was too late to pull out altogether. I decided I would just stick it out, be a grown-up about it. I wouldn’t talk too much like I had the day before, or stare at him like a lovesick idiot, and, when it was done, I was going to be the first one to say that I had to go, and not leave it dangling until he had to come up with excuses to get rid of me.

Wolfie was leaning on the gate where we said we’d meet – alone, staring at the sky, not looking out for me. I thought that he must have been hoping I wouldn’t turn up. He was wearing faded cords and a fitted black shirt. I ignored the way my heart was pumping blood recklessly round my body, pulled myself together and called his name.

I’d been terrified I’d run out of things to say to him on the way there, but it was easy. I started off talking about the Wood, and the notes I’d started to write, hoping he wouldn’t ask me to show him any of them, because they were all scrawled in a girly pink notebook. Then he asked me questions and it took the pressure off me, and suddenly we were just talking without thinking, and, not only was I not worried about silences, I was waiting for Wolfie to finish talking so I wouldn’t interrupt him constantly, and he was funny and laughing, and enthusiastic and interested.

He really seemed to get me, and I didn’t feel I had to explain anything, and I just couldn’t believe we’d got over yesterday’s embarrassment so smoothly. I was talking about the things I could remember of spending time in the woods as a kid: Matty and me looking for foxes because we’d just read a book called
Little Red Fox
and loved it, my mum personalising fairy tales like
Snow White
as we walked through the kind of scenery that was in the stories. My brother and I collecting conkers, both of us climbing trees and trying to rig up secret hide-outs in their branches, and then we were there, suddenly already in the wood, and Wolfie had whipped out his camera and was looking through the lens.