Chapter 10
“Did I tell you Sydney and Darshi kissed?”
Without looking away from the screen, Ford pops a sweetie into his mouth. “Gross. Why?”
“I know, right!”
“Besides I thought Darshi fancied you?” Ford asks me next.
Which is a reminder of something I’ve been meaning to tell him and it brings me back to the loud thoughts in my head. “She did.”
That gets Ford’s attention, but not for long. He throws me a look and gets more comfortable on the couch, grabbing the bowl of sweeties and placing it on his lap. “I don’t follow.”
Before I can get a word out, Ford shouts and curses at the television.
He doesn’t usually follow football this much.
At school, Ford is in the rugby team and in summer, he plays cricket.
Football is just something he likes every two years.
And every two years, I remember why I hate men running behind a ball.
I keep my mouth shut, waiting for him to be done.
I have no idea what happened in the game and I’m not sure I want to ask.
“Sorry. You were saying?”
“Darshi did like me.”
“Why would she kiss Sydney, then? Wait, is she cheating on you?”
“What, no. No cheating.”
Frowning, Ford hands me the bowl and I fish out a wrapped chocolate.
Here we go. I have no idea how to do this, where to start from. I know I’m not making sense but I need to do this now. There is this urgency inside of me that I cannot shut up anymore.
“Darshi kissed me first,” I say. I can feel Ford holding his breath in anticipation.
His eyes get bigger as the football game runs in the background. “Man! You had your first kiss?” he asks excitedly.
“I guess? But wait. I’m not counting that. This is not about that.”
“Why not?”
Taking a big breath, I say the words I have been rehearsing for a month. “I don’t like Darshi that way.”
“Oh, that’s fine then. You can still find another girl and we’ll pretend that’s your first kiss.” Ford interrupts me with a conspiratorial wink.
“No, Ford. Not a girl.”
This time, he must understand. “Not a girl,” he repeats slowly.
“How did you know you liked girls?”
Ford shrugs, “I thought Emma was pretty and when I asked her to come over she had a nice dress. It was cute.”
Ford had told me about Emma, one of his classmates, in January.
One day he was inviting her to his house and the next day he was telling me everything about how she was his first kiss.
I hadn’t asked for details but Ford spoke non-stop.
He told me how Emma had showed up with a cake that her mom baked—a cake with bananas inside.
Ford hated bananas so he did not eat any cake but he said that when they had kissed, Emma tasted so much like bananas it almost made him vomit.
He never wanted to invite Emma over again.
“I think Darsh is pretty but I definitely did not want to kiss her.”
“Do you want to kiss boys then?”
“I don’t know,” I mumble.
“There must be someone you can kiss. To try it out, you know? One of your mates, maybe?”
“Urgh.”
“Okay. Hum…” Scratching his head, Ford purses his lips and for the longest time, he says nothing. “Why don’t you kiss me?”
“Excuse me?”
“Well I’m a boy. And if you like boys, you must like kissing me more than kissing Darshi. At least I think it works like that.”
“I don’t know.”
“Come on, Ash. We need to get you some courage.” Standing up, Ford heads to the kitchen. The football match keeps playing in the background.
I follow him, my bare feet warm against the cold marble of his floors.
“Here.” He shoves a glass in my hand, filled to the brim with a yellowish-white liquid.
“What is this?” I smell the contents and a strong, sweet scent hits my nostrils almost painfully. It makes my eyes sting.
“White wine. Mom always drinks this when she needs to be brave. And when she’s sad. And on Thursdays.” Ford stares at me waiting.
“I never had alcohol before.”
“Me neither,” he replies simply.
I don’t want to do this alone, so I suggest, “Would you get a glass, too?”
With a grin, Ford turns to open the fridge again and finds the bottle of wine easily.
Placing my drink on the kitchen counter, I reach above the sink on my tiptoes to get a clean one for him.
The room is silent while Ford pours the liquid in, filling his glass as much as mine.
In the living-room, England is losing to Germany and outside, someone is shouting animatedly.
“Okay. Here we go. You drink all of that, I drink all of this, and then we kiss.”
“Then we kiss,” I repeat.
“So we can see if you actually like boys,” Ford explains it as if it is the most brilliant idea ever.
I grip the glass with shaky fingers, “Darshi said that she liked kissing Sydney, but kissing me was weird. Because we are friends.”
Ford’s eyes are on me, but he says nothing. He brings the glass to his mouth and takes a sip of wine. His nose curls in disgust, then he waits for me to do the same. I’m not sure what I expected, but I find the wine quite tasty.
Sip after sip, we empty our drinks. Ford is done first, and when he slams his hand on the kitchen counter, I find myself flinching. “Sorry. That was disgusting.”
I nod in agreement. “It was. I need chocolate.” Although that is not exactly what I’m thinking. It was weird, bitter at the end, but somewhere in the middle, I quite enjoyed it. I like wine, I decide.
Ford comes back from the living-room with the bowl of sweets and hands it to me. In sync, we each pick our favourite Cadbury bars, we unwrap them and shove them into our mouths.
“Should I be feeling different?” I check.
“I dunno. More brave?”
I want to correct him. I want to say many things, but find the words for none.
It is almost as if my thoughts are just out of my reach, swirling around in my empty mind.
I try to grasp one but it slips away, and I have to lean on the kitchen counter for stability.
“What if we stop being friends like you and Emma?”
“Emma and I were never friends. Also, you and Darshi are still friends after she kissed you, aren’t you?”
Ford is right. Kissing Darshi had been like kissing my little brother Erik on the cheek. One moment she was standing close, the next she was trying to move her lips on mine. I stood completely still, held my breath and counted to ten, waiting for it to be over.
Now, I’m feeling different. There is something weird knotting my stomach. My mouth is dry and the room is wobbly around me. Ford is standing in front of me with a curious smile and relaxed shoulders. His skin gets more golden in the summer, even in the gloomy British weather. It’s magic.
“Maybe I won’t like it, and then what if I don’t like neither girls nor boys?”
Ford giggles. “Then we can find a space alien with two heads that you can marry without kissing.”
And that is the reason why Ford is my best friend, I remember.
This is the friend who gave up his nickname so it could be mine, the person who hugged me when I failed my English test and who picked me up when I fell from the skates.
This is Ashford Hale, always ready to play UNO, never jealous of my other friends, always smiling, never angry.
“Okay,” I say, more to myself than to him. Taking a step closer, I’m surprised my feet are not stumbling.
Ford is waiting for me and when I’m right in front of him, he places one hand carefully on my waist. “Okay.” He breathes out a confirmation. He smells like chocolate and wine and suddenly, I need to taste that mixture on his lips.
Kissing Ford is everything that kissing Darshi was not.
He’s harder, and his hand feels bigger on my body.
He smells like summer and sweat and his hair doesn’t tickle my face uncomfortably.
Our chests brush together and his is firm against mine.
It must be because of all the sports he’s constantly doing, but it catches me by surprise anyway.
It ends as quickly as it started and it leaves me breathless.
I wait a full ten seconds before opening my eyes. Ford is smiling at me, a question hanging between us.
“Yep.” That’s all I need to say.
Ford punches the air in excitement. “Yes! Boys! I’m so happy for you, mate. First alcohol and first kiss.”
Our friendship doesn’t change after that.
We go back to the living-room, sit on the couch with our feet on the coffee table.
We share the bowl of sweets until it is empty, England has lost to Germany and our heads stop spinning from the wine.
Ford takes his guitar and we go out on the porch, he strums Coldplay while we play UNO. That night I win two rounds.
It is June 2010. Nothing changes between us, but everything is changing inside of me.