Three
Sea-green eyes, drown me
Let me taste the salt, before it washes away
That’s the memory of when
I loved you like that
‘I Loved You Like That’ from Dreamers
Selena Says: We are halfway through our last school summer. Only three weeks to go until upper sixth begins! After school it’ll be uni, then it’ll be the real world. No more summer holidays! This is the best time of year, but are those days numbered?
The response to my Selena Says is immediate.
Bleak, messages back Kira.
Don’t you normally wait until term starts before you send these out? messages Faye. I don’t need this negative energy right now.
I’ve been sending ‘Selena Says’ since Year 9 when I saw Briar McDonald’s mum storm into school to argue with a Chemistry teacher about her child’s B grade. My hot take then was you shouldn’t get your parents to fight your battles for you, even if they look like they could wield a battle axe.
Kira and Faye enjoyed it so much that I’ve been sending them ever since.
Ollie and I are hanging out again today. I look at myself in the mirror, brushing down my sundress. I’ve made more of an effort than usual, wearing some light make-up, curling my hair. Ollie has seen me in all states over the years, but today there’s only one way I want him to see me: romantically.
Because today, I will tell him how I feel.
I meet Ollie out front. Looking at our houses side by side, it is bizarre we are next-door neighbours. Half of our street is a string of semi-detached, suburban homes, of which mine is one. Then it suddenly becomes a string of, well, mansion-esque detached houses. Of which Ollie’s is one.
Ollie has told me before that his house isn’t a mansion, and ‘it’s all relative’, as multiple friends of his from his fancy private school have way bigger homes than him. I guess he’s got a point.
He holds up a picnic basket, the contents no doubt raided from his mum’s well-stocked fridge. I swear I once saw caviar there. I’ve brought a blanket and garden chairs and we head off to the park around the corner.
‘Can’t believe we’re halfway through summer,’ I say, sinking into the garden chair.
‘Final year of sixth form coming up,’ he says, sitting down next to me and taking out the food.
‘Are you looking forward to going back to Benson’s? Surely they’ll have some ritual sacrifice or something to round off your final year,’ I tease. I take a crisp and scoop up some fancy garlic dip.
‘It’s a summer solstice festival at the end of the year, not a ritual sacrifice,’ he says, a bit strained. ‘And it’s a good tradition.’
‘At least you only have to do it once more now,’ I say lightly. Ollie gets a bit defensive about his school. In general, he doesn’t enjoy being teased.
He nods, saying nothing, and we sit in silence for a bit. I continue making my way through the crisps and garlic dip, but in my head I’m doing cartwheels about how to bring up my feelings. Do I say: Hey, I think I like you . . .?
No. I can’t do that.
Maybe: This feels like a date . . . because maybe it is one?
Bad again.
If Ollie notices my internal turmoil, he doesn’t say anything. He just seems to be staring out across the park; but then suddenly he turns to me. . .
‘What are you most looking forward to this year?’ he asks me.
I sigh inwardly, but then my answer comes immediately. ‘Going to Rose Conrad’s tour,’ I say. ‘I can’t believe she’s coming before Christmas! She said she wanted to tour this album as quickly as possible.’
‘Of all the things that can happen in this year, and you’re most looking forward to Rose Conrad’s tour?’ says Ollie disbelievingly.
‘Her music is pure escapism. I’m in the moment, I’m there. And to experience it live – I can’t imagine it.’
Ollie laughs. ‘You’re starting to sound like a Rose Conrad song yourself. Overly nostalgic.’
‘Hey! I know you’re not her biggest fan, but you’re going to help me get tickets, right? There’s some complicated online queuing system, and I need all the help I can get.’
‘Absolutely,’ says Ollie. ‘Anything for you, Selena Pia.’ He touches my arm, and I look at him, and our eyes meet. I feel caught in them, like they’re tugging me forwards.
‘There’s something I have to tell you,’ says Ollie.
This is it. I don’t need to confess my love to Ollie, because he’s about to do it to me! The greatest turn of events that could happen.
‘I’m moving next week,’ he says.
‘What?’ I feel winded. ‘As in, moving house?’
He nods.
‘So you can get closer to your sixth form?’ I say, a sinking feeling starting in my stomach.
‘To Manchester,’ says Ollie, looking away.
‘Manchester? As in—’
‘The North of England Manchester,’ says Ollie, now looking up to the sky.
‘But why?’ The words escape me in a near howl. ‘We were just hanging out yesterday. It was normal. You were normal.’
‘Dad got a job there,’ says Ollie, finally looking at me. ‘I’ve known for a month now, but I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want to ruin summer.’
‘So you waited until the week before you move to tell me?’
‘I’m sorry,’ says Ollie. ‘But I don’t have a choice. It’s a big opportunity for him.’
I hear the bitterness in Ollie’s voice, and realise I haven’t even thought of how he feels.
‘You still have school. Your A levels.’
Ollie shrugs. ‘September is in a couple of weeks, I’ll be in Year 13, and then it’s university, right? I’ll have had to leave everyone behind at that point anyway.’
I can see Paul, Ollie’s dad, in my mind’s eye, telling him these words, the words Ollie is repeating to me right now.
‘Are you okay with this?’ I say.
Ollie exhales deeply. ‘No, but I don’t really have a choice. My final year here, saying goodbye, watching everyone go to university . . . It’s like my last year of being a kid has been taken away from me.’
I feel the tears rise. I’ve always been an easy crier. Anger, sadness, happiness, you name it, I cry at it. And even though I’m furious he didn’t tell me, I give him a hug. Because that’s what friends do.
He grips me, and I remember what I was going to tell him. How I was going to tell him he was the one. And maybe I still will—
‘Selena,’ Ollie says into my hair.
‘Yes?’ I say, looking up at him, into those green eyes of his. We’re so close now, I can feel his breath on my skin, it is pulling me closer and closer to him. This is it, even though he’s moving away, he’s realised how he really feels. I tilt my head up, lean in even closer and then—
‘That garlic dip is pretty strong on your breath.’