Chapter Seventeen
Dear Diary,
I think maybe I like girls as well as boys… maybe. Probably.
Last week I caught myself staring at Bella in PE when she was tying her hair up.
She has that really soft brown hair that does that swoosh thing.
It made my stomach flip, same way it does with Ren sometimes.
So I told Ren, just to see what he’d say.
We were lying on his bedroom floor, listening to one of his stupid indie bands.
He was sketching something and I just said it.
Something like ‘I think I like girls as well as boys’.
He didn’t even look up.
He just said ‘Yeah?’
He asked if there was someone I liked, so I told him about Bella. And he just nodded and said, ‘She’s pretty.’ Then he went back to his sketch. It was so anticlimactic that I almost laughed. They make a big deal about it on Glee.
But it didn’t feel like a big deal telling Ren.
He knows everything about me anyway.
Love,
Lydia
I must have done something really sick and twisted in another life. That’s the only explanation – because right now, Lydia was peeling off her soaking clothes beside me, while I stared rigidly at the panel of the tent as if my life depended on it.
Hell.
I was in hell.
I’d laid everything bare in the rain. I’d told her exactly how I felt and now – every thought, every feeling I’d had since this hike started – and now I was expected to spend a whole night with her, surrounded by the smell of that shampoo she loves to use.
Hearing her breaths. Feeling the warmth of her body next to me.
I just needed to get through this with some dignity intact. But firstly, I needed to make sure she was comfortable. Shit. She must be freezing in those clothes. Why hadn’t I offered her anything yet? Idiot.
‘Here,’ I held out the grey T-shirt between us, a peace offering of sorts. ‘You can wear it. If you need it.’
I wished I hadn’t turned around.
She had stripped off her leggings, and her long legs, toned and athletic, were exposed. Her soft skin – and memories of them wrapped around my waist – hit me like a truck.
‘Sorry.’ I glanced away quickly.
‘It’s fine.’
Nothing about this was fine.
‘I’ll turn around. So you know.’
‘Oh,’ she said again. Her cheeks flushed. ‘Thanks.’
The whole thing was painful.
I busied myself with the sleeping bag, turning back to the nylon wall while she changed. But it was impossible not to hear the soft rustle of her clothes, or imagine the slow drag of fabric over her skin.
‘I didn’t realise you still had this.’
I almost jumped out of my skin. I turned and my breath caught.
Lydia was in my shirt, my Manila Times gig tee, faded and baggy. Her legs were bare and, fuck me, how was she hotter in more clothes? My eyes dragged down her thighs before I could stop them.
I forced myself to look away, running a hand through my hair.
‘I couldn’t get rid of it,’ I said, keeping my voice even. ‘It was our first and only date.’
She blinked. ‘Date?’
I locked eyes with her.
‘Yes. Date.’
‘Ren,’ she said slowly, almost lethally. ‘What are you on about?’
‘It was a date. I asked you out. I bought the tickets. It was just us.’
She looked so confused it almost made me laugh. Or cry. I wasn’t sure which.
‘We’ve hung out, just us, for years. What was so different about that night?’ she said, a little defensive.
‘Yeah, we did,’ I agreed. ‘At family stuff. Or when we were kids. But that night… it was different. Or at least I thought so.’
It was the summer after we’d finished our A-levels, and I’d had a tough year.
I’d had my first really bad bout of depression.
It had hit me like a truck. I couldn’t get out of bed.
My teachers were concerned I wouldn’t pass any of my exams. My dad and Liam were trying to be as supportive as possible, but I knew I was being a burden by the way they would talk in hushed tones when they thought I wasn’t listening.
Or when Liam would talk over me at the doctor’s.
But Lydia had been my saving grace. She hadn’t put pressure on me to be better or make plans with her.
She was there if I needed a late-night phone call or a quiet walk around the park.
And it was more than that, something I couldn’t put words to.
It was like I didn’t feel heavy when I was around her.
She never drained me or made it worse. If anything, she made it better.
A solid, calming presence, like the soft glow of a lamp as the sun began to set.
And I knew I was starting to feel… more for her. But I also wasn’t in the right headspace for a relationship with someone who always gave so much for other people. I didn’t want to take advantage.
So I held back.
But, by summer, I’d finally got on some medication and was feeling a lot more stable.
And Lydia was more gorgeous than ever. My heart skipped when she walked into a room.
She had grown out her hair, and she had started wearing these jeans that hugged her curves.
She was more confident, and I loved hearing about her plans to train as a PT, because she would just come alive.
Don’t get me wrong, she’d always been beautiful, I couldn’t deny it, even when we were in our awkward, the-opposite-sex-is-disgusting phase.
But there was something about that summer – we were newly minted adults with no responsibilities, no exams, and no teachers. It was charged with possibilities.
I had thought, without my lows, that maybe I could be good for her. Worthy of her.
So, I’d bought the gig tickets, and we’d woven our way through the crowd, my hand wrapped around hers. I remember glancing back at her, just to check she was real. She was here with me.
In the crowd, I leaned down to whisper in her ear.
‘You look really beautiful tonight.’
She turned to me, brows quizzical, like she couldn’t hear me.
Then a squeal. Pale arms wrapped around my neck. I turned to see Lindsey Matthews and my stomach dropped.
‘Lindsey Matthews was there.’ Lydia snapped me back into the present. ‘You danced with her.’
I winced. ‘She was drunk. And clingy. I’d made it clear we went to the prom just as friends, but she latched on that night. I didn’t want her there, Lyd. I wanted it to be us. But you wouldn’t even look at me after she showed up.’
Once Lindsey had turned up, Lydia avoided me like the plague, and then the gig started, and there were what felt like a million sweaty bodies around us, keeping us apart.
She stared at me like I’d just told her I wanted to join the circus.
‘You can’t just rewrite history, Ren.’ Her voice shook. ‘And why didn’t you just tell me?’
I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. ‘I was eighteen and scared. Worried you’d say no. Or everyone in Everly Heath would jump on it. You know what they’re like. We’d have this pressure on us before we even started. I was hoping you’d guess it was a date.’
‘Guess?’ she repeated incredulously.
‘Yeah, I know. Dumb,’ I muttered. ‘I’ve made a lot of mistakes, Lydia. But I’m trying not to make them any more. I wish I’d just grabbed you and kissed you that night, instead of taking another ten years to do it.’
Lydia’s eyes widened, her eyes darting to my mouth, then she pulled herself together. ‘It wouldn’t have mattered. We’re—’ she stuttered. ‘All of this has been a mistake. You have to admit—’
‘I won’t admit it,’ I said. ‘I won’t admit that any time I spend with you – kissing or not – is a mistake.’
Lydia sucked in a breath. ‘Ren—’
‘Are you not over Casey?’ I asked quickly, like I was trying to rip off a plaster. ‘Is that it?’
I dreaded the answer. The idea of Lydia choking up over someone else – after that kiss in my apartment, after every moment pulling us closer again – sat in my gut like a punch.
‘What?’ she asked, her brow furrowed.
‘Casey,’ I repeated. ‘Are you not over her?’
Is that why you’re pushing me away?
Her expression softened, as if she realised it had been gnawing at me.
‘I’m over Casey.’ Her gaze dropped, thumb picking at her nail. ‘Don’t get me wrong, I was gutted when she left. But I don’t think…’ She paused, and I hung on every word. ‘I don’t think I was honest – with her or myself. I don’t think I was as invested in that relationship as I could have been.’
Was that because of me? The thought flared – arrogant and a little tempting. I didn’t ask because, if I pushed, she’d bolt. But part of me hoped.
And then there was the way she kept dodging my gaze… only for her eyes to flick, almost involuntarily, to my arms, my chest. Yeah, I caught that. She knew I did, from the way her cheeks blushed.
‘Ren, we said we were just going to be friends.’ She kept her voice even. ‘I know you think we can be more—’
‘Look, I’m not going to force you to see it my way.
Particularly because it would be borderline creepy when we’re sharing a tent and you are just in a T-shirt.
But let’s say this—’ my voice lowered. ‘We can play it your way. But, Lydia, that means that next time you want me to kiss you – you’re going to have to ask me. ’
‘That’s not going to happen,’ she said. But her voice was softer now, like even she didn’t quite believe it.
I shrugged. ‘We’ll see. In the meantime…’ I patted the sleeping bag, ‘Let’s go to sleep.’
I lay down, and she did the same, and I could tell she was holding herself stiff so we didn’t touch. I draped the sleeping bag over both of us, like a duvet.
Then her legs touched mine and she bolted upright.
‘We don’t have to share. I’ll be fine without.’
‘Lydia,’ I said gently. ‘I told you. We’re just sleeping.
And you’re not wearing anything on your legs.
And as torturous as it is to know you’re only wearing my T-shirt and one of those tiny thongs – don’t interrupt me – I don’t want you to be cold.
So let’s just… accept our fate, share the bloody sleeping bag, and sleep.
We can both pretend this never happened in the morning. ’
Something in my voice cracked at the end, a quiet ache I didn’t mean to let out.
‘Okay?’ I asked.
‘Okay.’
She curled in beside me, and I felt her breathing slowly. The rain outside softened and the silence inside thickened – comfortable, for once. Like an old rhythm, remembered.
I lay there, and wondered how many near misses with Lydia I’d have to endure.