Fourteen years old
Sam
“Ihave to tell you something,” Kath whispers to me as I get off the train at the small Devon station. “But not yet, I don’t want Nan to hear.”
I give her a bemused look as I swing my backpack over my shoulder and pick up my suitcase. God, my back’s stiff after sitting on a train for that long. I think it seized up somewhere between Reading and Exeter. “Nice to see you too, Kath.”
She scowls, yanking the suitcase from me. “Fine. Hello, Sam. How are you? How was the journey? Did you sleep well last night?” Her voice is mockingly sweet as we head to the car.
“Ummm…” Luckily I’m saved by Kath’s Nan, who fills the drive with friendly chatter.
“What do you want to tell me?” I ask Kath as we finish unpacking my bag at the bungalow. She just gives me another pained expression.
“Not here.” She grabs two shopping bags and drags me out of the house, marching down the street with single-minded purpose.
“What is it?” I ask again.
Kath glances cautiously from side to side. I’m not exactly sure why she seems to think any of the people walking around Sidmouth would be interested in our conversation. Once she decides the coast is clear, she grabs my arm and pulls me closer, whispering, “Isawtomkissingsomeone!”
“What?” I ask her, trying to decode the garbled sentence.
She takes a breath. “I saw Tom kissing someone,” she repeats. So I did hear it right the first time.
“OK. Um, cool.” I’m not quite sure what else to say. Why is she telling me this? I don’t know what I’m meant to do with the information. Is this what’s been making her act weirdly for the last twenty minutes?
“No, Sam. Not cool. Gross!” she whisper-shouts even though there’s literally no one else on the street.
“I thought he liked Sophie. You know, the girl he’s on the cross-country team with.
But anyway, he was at this party and my nan sent me round to go and get him as he wasn’t answering his phone.
So I decided to walk along the beach to get there and they were literally snogging on the beach. ”
“Are you sure?” I say doubtfully.
“I’m sure,” she shudders. “Ugh, I can’t believe I saw my brother kiss someone! It’s burnt into my eyes.”
We walk in silence for a few moments. Something about it makes me realise we’re not kids anymore.
Not really. We’re not eleven-year-olds with grazed knees and juice boxes.
Kath doesn’t look eleven. She’s gone from all elbows and angles to somehow actually suiting her height.
She’s long-limbed and starting to get curves and— Stop it, brain.
When she does another full-body shudder I can’t stop myself from laughing.
“Tom’s seventeen. It’s not that weird,” I tell her.
“Please stop talking,” she says to me.
“You snogged Bobbie last year,” I counter. “Kissing isn’t that weird.”
“Felt like a dead slug in my mouth.” She winces.
“You probably did it wrong.”
She elbows me. “You kissed Piri.”
“It didn’t feel like a slug.”
That night is seared in my memory. Ben’s fourteenth birthday and that game of spin the bottle, the curse of teenage milestones.
In all honesty, I’m surprised neither of us had ever kissed anyone before.
Almost all our friends have, and it was a source of constant teasing.
I really thought that bottle might land on me when it was Kath’s turn. But it landed on Bobbie Reynolds.
I’ve never liked him anyway. He has a resting smug face. And he looked just a bit too pleased that the bottle landed on him. Stupid Bobbie with his stupid hair and excessive use of gel, or mousse, or whatever it’s called.
When we get back from the shops, Tom’s at home. He greets me with a wave and Kath immediately goes bright pink. She buries her face in the fridge, stacking blocks of butter with intense concentration.
“What’s on the timetable then?” I ask as we put away the last of the food. “I hope there are highlighters again this year?”
“Of course there are highlighters,” Tom says. “And this is what? Version four? Isn’t that right, Kath? And she’s even scheduled in study time for everyone. Though I have no idea why. It’s the summer holidays.”
“I just wanted to make sure we get to do everything we want to do,” she tells me. “Give me a second.” She disappears before returning with her A4 masterpiece. I look it over, checking out the swimming times and two gym sessions that I had requested.
“Do you want to come to the gym with me?” I ask Tom, who nods. “It says walk this afternoon.” I check it again. “Shall I make the packed lunch?”
“Already done,” Kath chirps.
Half an hour later the three of us set off along the coast path, which is only a short walk from the bungalow, across a field that slowly morphs into sand dunes.
I keep wanting to stop and admire the view.
I really do love it here. An hour or so into our walk Kath stops at a public toilet, and I get my chance just to pause and survey the landscape.
Everything just looks so vast. There’s so much space in comparison to London. The curve of the sea, the expanses of cliffs. The fields look like a patchwork quilt behind us. My musings are interrupted by my phone buzzing loudly in my pocket. I ignore it, but it starts again within a few seconds.
I reach for it in confusion. I’m not much of a texter.
I usually send my mum about one text on arriving somewhere.
She calls that message my ‘sign of life’ text.
And if I’m not with Kath I’ll send her messages; updates about my day, or silly things I’ve seen.
But that’s about it. Josh is one of my best friends, and I think we communicate about once a week. If that.
The messages are from Kath, and I frown as I read them.
Kath: Sam please come to the toilets now. As in right now.
Kath: Sam please answer your phone.
Kath: PLEASE
Kath: I’m actually begging you.
Kath: It’s nothing really bad, but please just come.
Kath: OK it is bad. Please come now. I don’t want to call my brother. This is so embarrassing.
I start panicking. I can feel the anxiety, the level that is always there thrumming beneath the surface, beginning to rise. My palms start sweating. I fumble with my phone again as I start to run back along the path. I have just enough signal to call her.
“What’s wrong?” I ask. “Are you OK?”
“Thanks for answering.” Her voice is quiet. She doesn’t sound in imminent danger so I slow from my run back to a jog. “I need to ask you a favour.”
“Anything,” I tell her. “You’re kind of freaking me out though, what’s happening?”
“OK, so don’t panic.”
“That is not a helpful statement, Kath,” I grit out, about to start running again. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m a minorly anxious person.”
“Yes, I have noticed that, Sam, but there's only room for one anxious person right now,” she snaps. “It’s not a big deal. Well, it sort of is. But anyway. I’ve started my period, and we’re in the middle of nowhere, and this is a disaster, and the only other person here is my brother and I cannot ask him.
Also, my stomach really hurts and it’s all a bit much. ”
She’s speaking so quickly that it takes me a moment to catch up.
My stomach drops when I work out what’s going on.
Oh god. What do I do? I’m not mentally prepared for this.
My mind spins back to some sex education classes at school that I was definitely not listening to.
I think I was probably napping post-swimming rather than paying attention. I curse myself. Right, Sam, stay calm.
“Errr, what do you need?” I ask. “Should I call your Nan?”
“DO NOT call my Nan!” she shouts down the phone before taking a calming breath. “I want you to go back to the last village we passed, and then find the shop and buy me some period stuff. Don’t tell Tom. I will die from embarrassment.”
“What’s period stuff?” I ask, scratching my head. “I can definitely do it, Kath, but just give me instructions.”
“Maybe call me when you're there,” she says, and now that she isn’t shouting at me I do detect the slight wobble in her voice. She sounds close to tears. That’s not right—Kath’s the calm one. I’m the worrier. That’s always how it is.
“Hey,” I tell her, channelling my inner Kath and pretending to be completely collected. “I was being an idiot. Of course I know what to get. I mean, how hard can it be? It’s going to be fine. That village is literally only a five-minute run away. I’ll be back in no time.”
“I can’t believe I’m getting you to do this,” she whispers through the phone. “I think this is the most embarrassing moment of my life.”
“It’s definitely not,” I reassure her, turning to jog back down the coast path towards the last village.
“Anyway, remember when I had to get you to wax my legs before that swim meet because I was too scared, and all the wax had stuck to them because I left the strips on too long. And we had to sit in a bath whilst you tried to scrub it off with soap and baby oil. And then after all that you had to be the one to peel the strips off when we did it properly because I was still too much of a wimp. It can’t possibly be worse than that. ”
“True.” She lets out a watery laugh. “That was pretty embarrassing. You really owe me for not telling anyone.”
“And I won’t tell anyone about this,” I tell her. “I promise, KitKat. Just hold on and I’ll run to the closest village and text Tom that I need more food or something.”
Fifteen minutes later, very out of breath and with what is probably too much stuff, I’m back at the toilets and passing a bag under the door. Despite my silence, Tom has worked out what’s going on and is studiously looking at his phone.
“Did you buy the entire shop?” Kath asks through the door and I wince.
“I panic bought. Sorry.”
She giggles. “You sounded suspiciously calm on the phone. I knew it was too good to be true.”
“Hey, at least we can joke about this.” I decide not to let her know that I had to call my mum when I arrived because I had no idea what to do.
She gave me a pep talk, then a lecture about being nice to Kath, then congratulated me on being a good friend.
And then asked me loads of detailed questions that I had no clear answers to.
I could feel myself flushing redder and redder as she said words like ‘flow’. Thank god Kath wasn’t around.
“Yep. At least we have a funny story,” Kath mumbles.
“Do you need anything else?” I ask through the door, not quite sure what to do with myself.
“Nope,” she tells me. “Stop loitering, I’ll be out in a bit. Can you distract Tom or something?”
Soon we’re back on the coast path and I’m subjecting Tom to an inquisition about his A level courses to keep the conversation going.
Luckily, he’s replying in great detail. As he launches into another thrilling story about his geography field trip and the way they were measuring river depth, I shoot Kath an anxious look.
She’s strangely quiet. I pull a KitKat out of my bag, offering it to her, and she accepts it with a small smile.
A few minutes later she starts teasing Tom again and I let out a sigh of relief.
That evening I’m in bed waiting for Kath to finish in the bathroom when Tom turns to me.
“You’re a good guy,” he tells me. I look at him in confusion over the top of my book.
“What?”
“You’re a good friend to Kath,” he says. “I can’t think of that many fourteen-year-olds who would run to a shop to buy their friend period stuff and also remember to buy paracetamol and chocolate at the same time.”
“Oh right.” I scratch my ear. “Well, she’s my best friend, and I know she’d do the same for me.”
“She would,” he says quietly. “I obviously don’t tell her it often enough, but she’s a pretty great sister. And you’re good for her. She likes your drive.”
“She’s good for me too.” This feels a bit too profound for a Thursday night.
“Well, don’t do anything to fuck it up,” he says. “I mean it.”
I gulp. What does he know? “I don’t plan on it,” I hedge instead.
“What are you guys talking about?” Kath asks as she walks in.
“Nothing,” I say quickly. “Is that my T-shirt? Again?”
Somehow most of my swimming T-shirts have become Kath’s pyjamas over the years.
“It suits me more,” she twirls, and I grin as Tom turns out the light. She’s right. It really does.