Nick
Nick
It’s too late now. No going back. He can’t exactly lie on the floor in front of her door and try to fish the record back out.
She’ll probably think he’s totally nuts. But he just thought, if he could get her somewhere on her own – not like that, that sounds awful – but somewhere peaceful, where they can really talk it through without being interrupted… Perhaps then he can persuade her to take a chance on him.
Even though she’s out of his league. After all, he’s only a six out of ten.
God, what’s the matter with him? A six out of ten. It’s like he’s in pre-school or something. Beth isn’t like that. She’s not shallow. If she was, then she would have fallen for Justin, with his pearly whites and blow-dried hair.
‘Oh fuck,’ he says to no one, his hands running through his tangled hair. He feels completely out of his depth. Her reaction to that record matters more than anything.
He can’t remember the last time he felt like this. This exposed and vulnerable. Years ago now. It reminds him of that time in his teenage years, when Martin from school found out where he lived, and told everyone. And they all turned up at his house on a Sunday and shouted at him, calling him disgusting, saying he lived in a squat.
It was the first time he’d ever felt angry with his mum. Because she could have done something about it. She could have made it better. If only she cared. But she didn’t care enough.
She didn’t put him first.
He takes a deep breath, tries to calm his nerves. If Beth doesn’t want to go for a walk with him then that’s fine. If Beth goes home with Justin after the pub tonight and doesn’t find the record until later in the week, then that’s fine too.
At least he tried. It’s all you can do. Throw your best efforts out into the world and see which of them take off.
He looks at his watch. It’s late. He puts his ear to the bathroom door – a force of habit, in case Beth is inside. But there’s nothing. No echoes, no sound from within.
She must still be out with her theatre friends.
His shoulders slump of their own accord. But before he has the chance to push the bathroom door open, he hears something.
A tapping. Gentle, but insistent.
A tapping on his own door.
He freezes, for just a second. And then he takes a deep breath and opens it.
Beth’s there, standing in the corridor, looking just as lovely as ever. She’s wearing her thick puffer coat, a hat pulled low over her fringe.
‘So,’ she says, and he can tell she’s nervous and he immediately begins to feel sick with a strange mix of excitement and fear. ‘I got your invitation. And my answer is yes. Yes, Nick Parker. Seeing as you asked so nicely, I will go for a walk with you.’
She leans against the doorframe. When he doesn’t immediately respond, she swallows.
‘Or… maybe I won’t,’ she says, giving a nervous laugh.
‘Sorry,’ he says, feeling his own cheeks flush. ‘You just… caught me by surprise that’s all. I didn’t… I mean, it’s gone midnight.’
‘Sorry, Cinderella,’ she says, rolling her eyes. ‘I didn’t realise you were on a curfew.’
‘I’m not!’ he says, liking that he’s on the backfoot for once. ‘I’m… You’re right. Let’s go. Let me just grab my coat.’
He turns away from the door and yanks his jacket from the hook on the back.
‘Where are we walking to?’ he says, as he closes the door of his room.
‘I don’t know. It was your idea, remember?’
‘Oh. Yeah.’
Outside, the cold evening air whips around his face.
‘The park?’ he says, pointing towards it.
She nods.
‘I wanted to tell you something,’ he says, feeling the nerves rise. ‘Earlier on today, I… I broke up with Anna. I mean, not that we were ever really together but…’
She glances up at him.
‘I mean we were, I guess, but it was… it was never serious. I don’t want you to think…’
‘Oh.’
He can’t read the tone of her voice.
‘I want to be straight with you about it.’
‘It’s OK…’
‘No, it’s not. I want to explain it to you… I don’t really know how we got together. Alcohol. It was the first week and we all went out with some of the people from the flat downstairs and she made a move and I don’t know…’ He pauses. She probably doesn’t want to hear all of this. ‘But then it was like we were in some kind of thing, somehow… I knew it wasn’t what I wanted but I just went along with it… I didn’t want to hurt her. She’s a nice girl.’
She doesn’t say anything, which makes him even more nervous.
‘The thing is, I think you…’ How can it matter so much? He’s not sure, but it does. ‘I think you and I… Jesus.’
He raises his eyes to heaven.
‘I think about you all the time, Beth. I wasn’t expecting you… this… I don’t know what it is yet, but I’ve started waking up early in the morning and I’m glad that the night is over so that I can see you again and I’ve never… I’ve never felt like this about a girl before… and I… God, can you say something please?’
She laughs. He’s completely out of breath as he risks a glance down at her.
Her face is a full beaming smile.
‘What do you want me to say?’
She reaches out to take his hand lightly in hers, squeezes his fingers. It feels as though there’s electricity connecting them.
‘Nothing,’ he says, glancing down at their entwined hands. ‘This is… enough.’
They walk in silence for a few seconds, towards the centre of the park.
‘I like holding your hand,’ she says. ‘Remember that night… when you found me. When I’d just found out about my grandad.’
‘Yes.’
‘I was so grateful to you. For getting it.’
He pauses in the moonlight.
‘Don’t laugh at me, but that drive was one of the best nights of my life.’
She looks up at him.
‘Beth,’ he says, cupping her face with his hand. ‘I’ve only known you for a few weeks,’ he says, swallowing. It feels like the most terrifying moment of his life. ‘But… us… it’s different isn’t it? It’s not just my imagination?’
‘It’s going to be difficult,’ she says. ‘With Anna… She was your girlfriend.’
He closes his eyes. Shakes his head. She wasn’t his girlfriend. Or was that just a technicality? He doesn’t want to be one of those blokes.
‘Anna was a mistake.’
She frowns slightly.
‘I mean… I hadn’t met you when I met her…’ He tails off. ‘That sounds awful. I just mean…’
‘It’s OK,’ she says, reaching up and stroking his hair from his face. ‘I know what you mean.’
She tilts her face towards his and he kisses her, the sensation so overwhelming it leaves him light-headed. His arms are around her waist and he feels his knees go weak with it, and his brain closes down and there’s no thoughts anymore, no muddled-up, messed-up, over-anxious thoughts, there’s only the feeling of her body against his, and the knowledge that he wants her, utterly and completely, and that he may do forever.
After a short time, she breaks away. When she looks back up at him, she is smiling shyly.
‘I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long,’ she says, her words so quiet they are almost lost.
‘Me too.’
‘What are we going to do?’
She rests her head against his chest. She must be able to hear how hard his heart is thumping. He speaks into her hair.
‘I don’t know,’ he says, holding her as tightly as he can.
‘They’ll hate us.’
‘We’ll work it out,’ he says. ‘It’ll be OK. They’ll understand.’
‘And if they don’t?’
He sighs. He knows what it means to be ostracised by your social group. He remembers it well.
He doesn’t have the answer.