Chapter 19 Eighteen years old Kath
Eighteen years old
Kath
“Iordered your usual,” Josh says as I slide into the booth opposite him in our regular lunch spot.
In the summers we were sixteen and seventeen we both volunteered at the same nursing home, and somewhere between pretending we weren’t completely shattered after shifts, and developing a strangely intense addiction to chocolate digestives, we fell into a routine.
Every Sunday: volunteering, pizza and hot chocolate.
A weird combo, but somehow the salty-sweet chaos really works.
Josh’s been off travelling for a few weeks, and I haven’t had a chance to see him since the picnic a few days ago.
“Thanks.” I grab the mug like it’s a lifeline. “How was the trip? What embarrassing stuff did Ben get up to?”
We fall into easy conversation as we eat, him telling me stories about missed trains and questionable hostels, before he goes quiet and gives me a long look over the rim of his mug.
“So. What’s happening with you and Sam?”
“Nothing,” I reply instantly. I’ve successfully dodged Claire on the subject for two whole days, which feels like a personal record. “What dessert do you want?”
“Kath.”
“I’m just saying, they’ve got a new dessert on the menu. It’s called a crumble explosion. That feels important.”
“Please take this seriously.”
I blink. His tone’s shifted, and it makes me sit up a bit straighter.
“What’s going on?” he asks again.
“We’re just having fun before we go to university,” I explain. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Of course it’s a big deal,” he says, exasperated. “It’s you and Sam. The two of you have been dancing around each other for years. I can’t believe you never got together before, to be honest. I’ve been calling this since we were thirteen. Why now though?”
“Because we wanted to, we have a time limit, and it won’t mess with our friendship.” I shrug. “We’re not together. It’s casual. Very casual.”
Josh leans back in the booth, the plasticky fabric squeaking. He frowns at me and runs a hand through his hair.
“Are you sure?” he asks. “Does Sam know that?”
I frown, confused at his implication. “Of course he knows that. We even laid out ground rules. He was the one who insisted on it.”
Josh looks like he wants to say more, but stops himself.
“Fine. Well, as long as no one gets hurt, I’m all here for it.”
“We have a time limit,” I repeat. “He’s leaving in three weeks. So it could never become anything more. We both know that. Nothing’s going to happen.”
“OK.” He looks torn. Then he starts grinning. “You know the whole group is going to go mental when they find out.”
“Really?” I ask. “I don’t think anyone will care.”
“Oh, my sweet summer child,” he says. “We’ve been predicting it for years.”
It makes my stomach twist in a way I can’t quite explain. What does he know that I don’t? But before I can ask, he changes the subject, and we spend the next hour talking about university.
***
When I get back, Sam's waiting at the door, overnight bag in hand. My heart jumps when I see him, and I frown at my reaction. Where did that come from?
The moment we get through the door, I distract myself by pushing him towards my room, pulling his shirt off on the way and dropping it in the corridor even as he attempts to kick off his shoes at the same time.
“No one’s in, right?” he asks around breathless kisses.
“Mum’s working a long shift, Dad’s out all day and Tom’s gone to the pub with friends.” I tug at his belt. He grins at me, deepening our kiss.
In the room, I push him towards the bed, standing between his knees and tracing my fingers around the tattoo on his chest. He got it the day he turned eighteen.
It’s a set of Olympic rings just over his heart.
I was initially surprised; Sam isn’t usually showy when it comes to his achievements.
But then he told me about his mum joking in 2012 about having to take her son to get a tattoo and suddenly I understood.
“Fuck, Kath,” he grits out. “You make it so hard to control myself.”
“So don’t,” I suggest, pulling my dress up and over my head. He groans as his hands find my hips and he pulls me towards him.
“What do you want to do today?” He looks up at me. I'd texted him halfway through the afternoon telling him that I had plans for us tonight.
“Well, I was reading Cosmo.” I smirk at him as he shuffles around trying to pull off his shorts whilst still sitting on the bed before flopping back. “And it’s given me some ideas.”
He grins, and I let out a squeak of surprise as he pulls me down onto the bed next to him. I’ve just got us into the shape I want when I hear a creak on the landing. I freeze, looking at Sam with wide eyes only to see a look of absolute terror on his face.