Chapter 15 Eighteen years old
Eighteen years old
Kath
Sam and I are lying in the park, the remnants of our picnic between us, reading our respective books in peaceful silence.
It’s between his morning and afternoon training blocks, and we’re doing our best to enjoy the weather while it lasts.
We’ve spent so much time at the pool this summer that the smell of chlorine has infiltrated my clothes, and the breeze through the trees is a welcome break.
The end of school felt slightly anticlimactic.
Maybe we were all just tired from the stress of the last year, but after exams everyone went their own way.
The only people left in London at the moment are Sam and me.
The fact that he’s leaving for college in Florida in a few weeks still hasn’t really sunk in.
“What are you being so jittery about?” He reaches across and stills my fingers. I hadn’t even realised I was tapping them against the edge of the book I’m barely reading. “What’s going on?”
“Just thinking about university.” I fiddle with my ponytail with my free hand. “I’m really nervous. It’ll be amazing being close to Nan, but Exeter feels pretty far from home. I know it’s only a three-hour train, but it feels farther than that.”
“You’ve done amazingly,” he says. “I know I’ve told you before, but really Kath, you’ve done so well. First person from St Peter’s to get into university to study medicine in five years. That’s pretty epic.”
“As epic as getting an Olympic medal?” I tease him.
“More so.” He doesn’t even hesitate. “You’re so smart. Honestly, it’s kind of amazing. Our school is supportive, but it’s not a private school. I know how hard you’ve worked, and it’s just as impressive as swimming a couple of lengths in a pool.”
“It’s more than a couple of lengths,” I tell him. “And you do it very fast. Maybe world record fast one day.”
He laughs. “I live in hope.”
His obsession with the individual medley record has become something of a joke between us. I’ve teased him before about hearing him muttering the record time in his sleep.
“Four minutes, three seconds, eighty-four milliseconds,” I tell him seriously and he chuckles again.
“Now stop deflecting and tell me why you’re nervous. You’re not usually a nervous person.”
“Do you want the whole list?” I offer, watching the clouds scud through the sky above us. It’s a nearly exhaustive list, ranging from what I want to wear on the first day, to the sort of person I want to be, and pretty much everything in between.
“Always,” he says softly. “You can tell me anything.”
I shut my book and prop myself up to look at him. He looks so Sam. His eyes are shut and his arm is thrown over his head, shielding him from the sun. His open book rests on his stomach.
“OK, well, it’s a pretty long list,” I warn him as I start ticking them off.
“I’m nervous about making new friends. I’m worried about the course being too difficult for me.
I’m anxious about being away from home. And I’m sad that you’ll be a nine-hour flight away.
I haven’t quite worked out how to survive with my best friend in America. ”
He sits up to look at me, concern etched across his face.
“Hey, don’t worry.” He brushes a stray strand of hair out of my eyes.
“We’ll text every day, and I’ll be back in December and then you can come visit over Easter like we planned.
And as for the other things. You make friends so easily, Kath.
It’s going to be fine. And I know you’ll smash the course. ”
I gulp. Too many compliments. “I think your faith in me is misplaced.”
“No, it’s really not.” He leans back, shading his eyes with his arm.
My mind is spinning. It’s so odd to think that in two months I won’t see Sam every day.
He’s been a daily presence in my life for the last seven years.
Since his mum got ill, I’ve been driving him to and from swimming practice, and taking him to weekend meets when his dad was busy with work.
I’ve become used to our new routine, and I don’t want to let it go.
I haven’t told him one of the other things that I’m really nervous about. I’ve been thinking of talking to him about it for weeks, but keep wimping out at the last minute. Maybe today should be the day.
“Can I ask you something really weird?” I say to him finally.
“Sure.” His eyes are shut again, face turned towards the sun. “Do I need to be worried? Is this, like, a truth-or-dare situation? Because I distinctly remember doing dares at your Nan’s one summer, and it didn’t end well.”
His expression makes me chuckle.
“No.” I inhale and decide to go for it before I chicken out again. “Will you have sex with me?”
He chokes. “Sorry— what?” he splutters, looking distinctly less relaxed than a minute ago.
I roll over to face him, propping myself on my elbows as he sits up, slightly red. “Will you have sex with me?”
He stares at me. I think I broke him.
I keep going before I lose my nerve. “I want to have sex before I go to university. Otherwise, it’s just going to feel like this… thing hanging over my head. And it’s making me really nervous. I’d rather it be you.”
He blinks. “Kath, you don’t need to have sex before university.”
Picking at a stray thread on the blanket, I try to work out what to say. The sun dips behind a cloud and the temperature noticeably drops.
“Loads of people haven’t had sex before university.” His voice is quieter now.
I want to make him understand that I don’t want my first time to be pressured and awkward.
Or with someone a stranger. I’d like it with someone I know in a place where I feel safe.
I never slept with Bobbie, even though he wanted to.
He was so pushy that it put me off dating anyone else and now I’m nervous that my last experiences were all with someone who made me feel bad about myself.
I don’t want to arrive at university worrying about this alongside all the other things that already make me anxious.
“Yeah, but I get so nervous about these things. Remember when I headbutted Paul when he tried to kiss me when we were fifteen? What if I do something like that but accidentally knee someone in the balls in the midst of a romantic moment?” I ask him.
His ears flush pink. “Wow. You aren’t exactly selling this to me.” He grabs the water bottle, flipping the lid off and spilling some of it on his shorts.
“Honestly, I’ve been thinking about it a lot,” I tell him quietly, and Sam coughs as he tries to take a sip of water.
“Not sex with you… I just mean in general. I spent so long waiting to have sex with a long-term boyfriend, like in all the films. And obviously that didn’t happen and now I’m just really stressed about the whole thing. ”
“Still not selling it,” he says. “Kath, if this is how you proposition people, I don’t think you’ll be having sex with anyone for a while.”
I smack him with my book.
“Ouch, I was just teasing!” he says.
“And I’m being serious.” I sit up straighter. “I’ve been thinking about it. I want to do this. But, I do understand if you don’t want to. Really. I don’t mind if you think it’s a terrible idea. Or… if it’s me that you don’t want to do—”
“I’m being serious too,” he cuts me off, taking my book and forcing me to look him in the eye. “You shouldn’t do something just because you feel pressured to do it. If you want to wait, just wait. You’re only eighteen… there isn’t any rush.”
“Says you, who had sex with an Olympic athlete aged sixteen,” I tease and he frowns. His expression suddenly looks more shuttered.
“Well, I regret that. I wasn’t ready when I first did it. Don’t waste an experience just because you feel that you have to do it.”
“I’m completely serious, Sam.” I tug my book back, trying not to analyse how our hands touch.
“I really want to do this. And I do love you—as a friend. I trust you completely. I think it could actually be fun. We’ve watched all these movies about friends with benefits. That could be us until you leave.”
I want something easy and fun. Something I don’t have to be nervous about.
I want Sam. And he’s safe because I know that he doesn’t do relationships, and he doesn’t do complicated.
There’s no risk with him. No worries about labels and feeling small and insignificant like I did with Bobbie.
We’re friends. Best friends. It’s the one constant I’ve always had.
“Are you sure?” He looks over at me, twisting his hands in his lap.
“I’m completely sure,” I tell him. “I’m around for the rest of the summer, because I’m not visiting Nan this year. And I take you to and from training most days anyway, so our schedules barely have to change.”
My stomach suddenly drops. Maybe he just doesn’t see me like that. It’s not about logistics, it’s about want.
“If you don’t find me attractive, I get it.” I force a shrug that’s attempting to look casual, but I think it fails.
“Christ, Kath, of course I find you attractive.” He lets out a slightly strangled laugh, and his ears start to flush even redder. “You’re beautiful. But I value our friendship more than anything. I don’t want to ruin it.”
I reach for his hand, threading my pinky through his without hesitation. “You won’t ruin anything.”
His brow furrows slightly. “You swear on the pirate’s code, KitKat?”
“I pinky promise,” I tell him.
He still looks a little disbelieving, but when I hold up our interlocked fingers, he sighs and shakes his head with a small, exasperated laugh.
“Just give me a moment to process,” he says. “It’s a lot. I need to think.”
He sits back and looks at the treeline, face scrunched up. It would be adorable if I didn’t suddenly feel very anxious. Sweaty anxious.
“We’re both leaving in eight weeks anyway,” I remind him after a few minutes of silence. “Then the Atlantic Ocean can absorb any awkwardness.”
He continues looking at the trees, alternating between clenching and unclenching his hands and then rubbing the back of his neck.
“Fuck.” He lets out a deep breath. “Fine. Let’s do this, but only if you’re one hundred per cent sure.”
“I’m sure.” I look hold out my hand, and we lock fingers again. It feels both incredibly comical and incredibly serious.
“Ugh, I’m never going to be able to swim this afternoon.” He flops back onto the picnic blanket with a sigh.
“What do you mean?”
“Because I’m going to be trying not to think about you the entire time,” he grumbles.
I cackle. “Oh, this is going to be fun.”
He peeks at me from under his arm, expression deeply unimpressed. “Oh god,” he mutters. “You’re going to ruin me.”