Chapter 12 #2
‘Goodnight, Lizzie.’
I look up at him as I pass and am surprised to see a troubled expression on his face again, but this is different from how he looked a few hours ago. He seems to be struggling to look at me and swallowing more than usual.
‘That’s OK,’ I tell him, my voice soft in case he’s feeling guilty about how much of my night he’s commandeered. ‘It’s what friends do, right?’
His eyes close for a split second as he nods his head. When they open again, something has shifted, and he’s able to look me dead in the eyes once more.
‘Yeah. It’s exactly what friends do. Goodnight.’
Getting ready for work on Monday, I’m as tense and nervous as if it was my job interview.
I watch the clock all morning, wondering where Elliot will be up to, hoping he’s remembered to wear the green tie and to remind Mr Montgomery how brilliant he is with the students here, which, when it comes down to it, is the most important part of the job.
When lunchtime comes round, I’m finally free to look for him, but he’s not in his classroom nor in the staffroom, and he’s not left a message on my phone to tell me how it went despite my strict instructions to do so.
I’ve a full afternoon teaching, so it’s only when the bell goes for the end of the day that I’m free to go searching for him again.
This time he’s sitting at his desk, his face pale. His hair isn’t his usual deliberately messy but genuinely all over the place.
‘How did it go?’
I’ve startled him from his thoughts, and when he turns to look at me, I can see the tiredness in his eyes.
‘Not sure. John’s going to ring this evening to let me know.’
‘John? Well, that’s a good sign for a start, isn’t it? I’d never dare refer to Mr Montgomery as John. Nor did you before today.’
He gives me a weak smile. ‘I suppose. I think it went well, but I don’t know. There were two other interviewees, both more experienced, including Isabelle from the science department who’s been building up to getting this job for years now.’
‘Maybe but being more experienced doesn’t mean they’re better than you. And anyway, I’m sure John,’ I can only bring myself to utter his first name as a whisper, ‘can see how great you’d be or he’d have never asked you to apply.’
‘We’ll see,’ he says, and he looks so unsure of himself that all I want to do is give him a hug and tell him I’m proud of him. But we don’t do that.
‘What’s the plan now?’ I ask.
‘To go home and watch my phone until it rings.’
‘Make sure you eat, too, OK?’
I go home as well, feed Bud and try and plan my lessons for tomorrow, but I can’t settle, not knowing Elliot is facing that excruciating wait for news alone.
I know him. If it’s good news, he’ll be delighted.
He’ll bound around his flat like a puppy not knowing what to do with itself, then finally fall into a contented sleep, which he desperately needs.
But if it’s not good news, he’ll be equally lost.
When my phone rings, I jump up to get it from my bag, thinking it must be Elliot ringing with news, but it’s Jordan’s name on my screen.
On seeing it, my first feeling is disappointment that it’s him, not Elliot.
I hesitate, wondering whether to answer it or not in case Elliot rings while I’m on the phone, before I remember who I’m dating here, and who I’ve hardly spoken to this week and press the green button.
‘Hello, you.’ His voice is so upbeat and full of warmth, guilt twists my stomach at how close I was to not answering.
‘Jordan, hi. How are you?’
‘I’m good. So I know we said we’d wait until the weekend to see each other, but I was just sitting here thinking what a bad idea that was, and how we should rectify such poor decision making by meeting for a drink tonight.’
‘Oh, right.’
‘I don’t mind coming over to somewhere near you,’ he ploughs on.
‘And I’m happy to drive and leave my car, so I can pick you up.
Or you’re welcome to come round here if you’d rather.
Or we can always leave it. Totally up to you.
I just thought it would be nice.’ The volume and confidence leave his voice with each word he speaks, and part of me wants to jump in and tell him I’d love to see him, but I know tonight isn’t the night for it, that I’d only be distracted waiting for news from Elliot and worrying about him if he didn’t get the job.
‘I’m sorry,’ I tell him. ‘That would be great, but Elliot’s not heard about the job yet, and I might need to go round to his again, depending on the news.’
‘Oh, yeah. Right,’ he says, a hint of annoyance creeping into his usually pleasant voice.
I get it. I’ve explained to Jordan that Elliot isn’t an ex-boyfriend of mine, but he does know we slept together.
That it was a drunken mistake’ and we’re only friends now.
If it was the other way round and Jordan was spending all this time with a friend of his who he had slept with so soon into our relationship, I’d find it very hard not to be worrying too.
‘I’m sorry.’
‘No, that’s fine,’ he says, recovering. ‘I just thought the interview stuff would be done by now.’
‘It is,’ I tell him, and I hear the truth of it. I’ve done my job. I helped Elliot to prepare for the interview and he’s had it. So why can’t I switch off? Why can’t I think about anything but how he’s going to react whichever way it goes and how much I want to be there for him when he finds out?
‘So I can’t tempt you for even one drink?’
I want to be tempted, I do. I want to put Elliot to the side and put my focus back on Jordan, on seeing if what’s between us is something that could work, but I know I won’t be able to concentrate on him until I hear from Elliot.
‘I can’t. Not tonight. I’ve got to catch up on some of the prep work I’ve let slip. I’m really sorry,’ I fib, hoping to take the attention off Elliot.
‘Ah, of course. No, I completely get it. Sorry, silly suggestion,’ Jordan says.
There’s a note of disappointment in his voice that feels like a weight pressing down on my shoulders, but he’s right.
This is what this is. Elliot’s my friend.
One of my best friends, and I just want to make sure he’s OK.
This is normal, and I’m glad Jordan gets it.
‘Thanks. I’m really looking forward to seeing you on Saturday.’
‘Me too,’ he says. I turn on my laptop and try and get some work done but an hour after getting home, I give up and put my coat back on.
It’s pointless being at home, trying to concentrate on anything other than waiting for Elliot to get in touch.
I should reach out to him. If there’s one thing he needs tonight, it’s company while he waits for the news.
I should have offered it from the start.
If he’s being quiet, it may have been bad news.
On the way over, I stop off to get supplies.
I throw Haribo and tortilla chips into my basket as well as a loaf of bread in case I end up being there half the night and snacks no longer cut it.
It’s only when I’m in front of the wine fridge I slow down.
My eyes are drawn to the champagne. If he gets the job, it’s absolutely what we’ll want.
If he doesn’t, though, it will be entirely the wrong thing.
I open the fridge anyway and grab a bottle, smiling.
This is Elliot. Of course he’s going to get it.
When I get to his, I press the buzzer to his flat, and like always, he buzzes me straight in. I knock on the door and wait, my stomach fizzing with excitement. I remind myself he might not get the job, but even so, I’m just happy I made the decision to come round tonight to support him.
‘Lizzie? Hi! What are you doing here?’