Cwtch Me If You Can (4 page)

‘Um, so,' he says, ‘What do you do? Is Starbucks the future for you? I feel really weird, because we've met a few times, but I still don't actually know much about you.'

Glad of the change of topic, I turn back to him, wrapping my hands around my cup of tea. ‘Okay, well, I dropped out of Sixth Form after barely passing my AS Levels, worked in Tesco and a pub for a bit. Now I'm doing some college courses in psychology. What about you?'

‘Fourth year French,' he answers. ‘I spent my third year abroad. Probably going to go into teaching.'

‘So you know what you want to do with your life.'

‘Kind of. At least, I'd like to get the qualifications to be a teacher, so I can go into it if I want to. What do you want to do?'

I laugh, so hard that I give the most unattractive snort. ‘I have no clue.'

He shrugs. ‘That's okay. I have mates who still don't know what they want to do.'

And after that, talking with Sean is easy. I tell him more about me – like how I quit Sixth Form because I thought I'd never get my grades up (and how Cathy was the one who convinced me to give college a try and not give up on myself), and how I passed my driving test first time with only two minors.

I learn that Sean's dad is Irish – but his parents had a rough divorce when he was little, so he only sees his dad a couple of times a year because he lives in York now, and Sean and his mum and little sister live in Swansea. He tells me that he broke his arm falling out of a tree when he was fourteen, that he took three tries to pass his driving test, and my jaw drops when I hear about the two A* grades he got at A Level.

‘You probably could've got into Oxbridge.'

‘I didn't bother applying. It would've been too much pressure.'

‘Fair enough.'

We talk about music, movies, TV shows we like, and when we realise we both love watching
Game of Thrones
(but he's read the books and I haven't) we talk about that for about twenty minutes, mostly debating over Sansa Stark's character.

Being with Will used to be easy because we liked so much of the same stuff, and we were so alike. And even though Sean and I have things in common, it's different – it's like almost everything he says is a surprise to me. And that's good.

But I'm not going to start dating him, I remind myself. I won't. I'm not in the right place to do that. Emotionally or mentally. I need a break from dating. And with my disastrous history when it comes to romance, I'm starting to convince myself that I must be jinxed.

We spend almost two hours in McDonalds.

If I'm honest, it's was a much better way to spend my night than pushing away drunk, groping guys under strobe lighting.

I'd stay longer with Sean, but we're both starting to yawn. And I know that if I spend too much longer with him, I'm at a serious risk of forgetting about my ban on boys.

Just as I'm wondering how to tell him I want to head back home, I'm saved by the bell: my phone starts to ring.

I give Sean a look that says ‘sorry', and answer. It's Julia.

‘Where are you?' She's shouting, and I can hear other voices in the background calling to each other, and, behind that, music with heavy bass and some guy rapping over the top of it.

‘Nice talking to you, too. I'm in McDonalds.' I tell her which one, describing where I am. ‘Are you still at the club?'

‘We're just about to call a taxi. Are you getting one with us? Or going back to Lover Boy's?'

‘He's not –' I break off, blushing. I can't call Sean ‘Lover Boy' (whether he is or not) when he's right there in front of me, hearing my every word. I just hope he can't hear Julia. Self-conscious, I press the button on the side of my phone to turn down the volume.

‘I'll meet you guys and come back with you,' I tell her instead. ‘Where are you?'

When I hang up, Sean smiles easily at me, and starts to stand. ‘I'll walk you back to meet your mates.'

‘Oh, you don't have to do that.'

His smile turns to a smirk. ‘Can't have a pretty girl wandering around all on her own. Come on. Where are you meeting them?'

‘Maddison,' I tell him, picking up my bag and slinging the strap across my body. I try not to think too much about the fact that he just called me pretty. ‘You really don't have to walk me there, you know. I don't mind if you'd rather go find your own mates.'

He shrugs. ‘They'll be fine without me.'

‘But it's your birthday.'

‘Actually, it's after midnight, so not any more.'

I roll my eyes, waving a hand in a ‘whatever' gesture. ‘Details.'

‘That's them.' I point to where Julia, Ellie and Cathy are huddled together on the pavement near a phone box. Jules is on her phone, and Cathy is chatting to Ellie. We've stopped at the end of the road, and there are so many people around on the pavements that they haven't seen me yet.

I turn back to Sean, and smile, but it feels stiff, almost formal. Suddenly, everything feels awkward. The air is thick, like it's charged with tension that doesn't know where to go. The kind of weird and awkward tension that I recognise from the end of first dates with boys when you don't know whether to kiss them or hug them or just call ‘bye' and walk away.

Only this isn't a date.

And I'm
not
going to kiss him.

Besides, Sean was probably just being nice. He didn't want to go clubbing, saw an easy escape with me for a few hours, and that's all it was. I bet the last thing on his mind is dating me, when he saw me in such a state back on Valentine's Day.

I bite my lip, though, because in spite of what I tell myself, I'm nervous.

Sean clears his throat. He obviously feels the suspense between us too. ‘Thanks for tonight. I had a really great time.'

‘Me, too.'

I can practically hear crickets chirping in the silence that follows.

‘Um…' He clears his throat again. God, I think Sean's even more nervous than I am. ‘So, I guess, I'll maybe, um, see you around, some time?'

‘Sure.'

Then the girls notice me, because over the din of people on a night out and the music spilling out of the open doors of the clubs along the road, I can hear Cathy shouting, ‘Alex! Alex! Alex, over here!'

‘I'd better go.'

‘Sure.' Sean rubs the back of his neck, and then before I can turn away, he ducks down to kiss me on the cheek. I jump back, totally startled. ‘Bye, Alex. Have a good Easter.'

‘You – you too,' I stammer, and blink at him a few times before walking to meet my friends. When I meet them, I can hear them talking to me, but I can't focus. I'm too stunned. Instead, I just lift a hand to touch my cheek where he kissed me, and look back over my shoulder to see Sean raise a hand to me in farewell.

Reasons to want to date Sean

• He's the most handsome guy in the history of guys

• He might like me

• Even after seeing me in a state on Valentine's Day he hasn't ignored me

• He seems like a really, really great guy

• He's funny

• He's smart

• He's kind

• Did I mention how good-looking he is yet?

Reasons not to date Sean

• Dating is a bad idea right now

• He kissed me on the cheek and that means he's probably not actually interested

• There's no way he's interested. He was just being nice.

• I'm not really over Will

• I'll get my heart broken. I always do.

Chapter Five

Two days later, Cathy and I are both at the house for a couple of hours, before I have to go to work. The other two girls are still at classes.

I managed to avoid most of their questions on Saturday night (or, rather, Sunday morning). I dismissed it, saying we were friends and that was all.

Cathy isn't falling for it, though. She knows me too well.

She hasn't mentioned to Julia or Ellie that she knows Sean the waiter from university, and I'm glad. It's hard enough to get my feelings straight in my head without a bunch of other people pitching in.

Right now, we're sitting in the living room with some left-over Chinese takeaway we all ordered yesterday,
Deal or No Deal
playing on the TV. We're not paying any attention to it though – instead, my best friend is finding out everything from my night with Sean.

I have to tell her. She's my best friend. I can't hide stuff from her. And even if I don't want everyone's advice, I'd like to talk to someone about it. And even if Cathy hasn't been in love, she's realistic when it comes to relationships.

‘I can't believe I know him,' she says for the billionth time. ‘How crazy is that? I mean, I don't know him
that
well. But I've talked to him a little on society pub crawls and stuff like that. I mean, he seems like a nice guy.'

‘He is.'

She rolls her eyes, shovelling more sweet and sour chicken into her mouth. She says, mouth full, ‘So tell me again what happened at the end of the night?'

I sigh, poking the noodles in my plastic tub. ‘He walked me round to Maddison to meet you, and then it got all awkward as we were saying goodbye. Like, end-of-a-first-date awkward. And he said he had a nice time, and I said that I did too, then you called me, and he just – just kissed my cheek.'

Cathy frowns, swallowing. ‘And you're totally sure he wasn't aiming for your mouth and missed?'

‘Definitely not.'

‘A kiss on the cheek?'

‘Like a peck. Like you'd kiss your gran at Christmas.'

My best friend sighs heavily, shaking her head. ‘Boys are a goddamn mystery.'

‘This is why,' I say, ‘I'm not dating. For a while.'

‘But you like this guy.'

I groan, thinking about the lists I made to try to help me answer that same question, putting my half-eaten leftovers back on the coffee table and tucking my feet up under me on the sofa. I pull a cushion onto my lap. ‘I don't know, Cathy. I mean, he's a hard guy not to like. He's just got that kind of personality. And, of course, he's totally gorgeous.'

‘And he must like you.'

I shrug. ‘Yeah, enough to hang out with me. But he probably just likes me as a friend, or something.'

‘But –'

‘Otherwise,' I interrupt, ‘he'd have actually tried to kiss me on Saturday.'

‘Mm.' She can't disagree with that, so she doesn't. And she doesn't try to offer me any advice on it, either. We both turn back to
Deal or No Deal
, just as someone opens the 1p box and everyone celebrates.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Cathy smile at the TV. I don't. I can't really concentrate on the telly anyway. I'm too busy replaying Saturday night with Sean in my head again.

Before Will destroyed all my faith in romance, I'd have said that there was a spark when Sean kissed my cheek. That my skin was tingling afterwards from the imprint of his lips. That we had
chemistry
.

But now, I just think maybe that spark I felt was because it was so cold, and his lips were warm.

There's nothing romantic between us. The only reason he kissed my cheek is to make a point that whatever there is between us, it's just friendship.

There's no real reason we keep running into each other, either. I can't believe it's fate pushing us together. There's no such thing as fate.

And in spite of what I tell myself, I can't help but feel a little sad about that.

When I get home from work later that day, I find myself rooting out the shoeboxes from under my bed. The first shoebox used to hold the Converse I bought in the January sales, but inside is what would look to anyone else like a pile of rubbish.

It's not rubbish, though. It's all my mementoes from my last relationship. Cinema tickets, receipts from meals, photos I'd printed to put on my pin board. I go to my jewellery box, take out the necklace Will gave me that's buried there, and drop it into the shoebox, too.

I think I'm finally ready to move on. Or at least try to move on.

I pull out the other shoeboxes, then, and line them up in front of me on the floor.

I have had four boyfriends in my life.

The first was when I was ten. It started at the last school disco of Year Six, before we all left for comprehensive school. Barry Jones gave me his Penguin biscuit, and then we danced the
Cha-Cha Slide
together, and at the end of the disco he asked if I wanted to be his girlfriend.

We went to the cinema twice (once over the summer, once at Christmastime), both times with one of our parents in tow. We bought each other presents on holidays and gave each other Easter eggs.

And sometimes we held hands in the school yard and once, on Valentine's Day at school in Year Seven, he kissed me on the lips for a dare.

He broke up with me at the start of Year Eight, when he realised that other girls were starting to develop noticeable boobs and I looked more like a boy, with my short bob and flat chest.

That was the first time I got my heart broken. I cried all night and my mum told me, ‘You'll get your heart broken plenty of times before you find the boy who pieces it all back together for you.'

I hadn't believed her. I always thought that I would only ever fall for The One.

The One being the guy I would want to spend my whole life with. My knight in shining armour, my Prince Charming, my soulmate.

I take the lid off the shoebox, looking at the rope bracelets of beads that Barry gave me as holiday presents, the tickets from the two movies we went to see, and a few photos.

I wiggle the lid back onto the box, and move on to the next one.

My second boyfriend was the boy I fancied all of Year Nine, once I'd overcome my first bout of heartbreak. His name was Lorenzo – but everyone called him Ren. He was one of the coolest guys in our school year, and all the girls fancied him because he was exotic. His mum was Spanish and he took after her, with thick, shiny black hair and high cheekbones and olive skin.