17 who knew I was capable of thinking with my head?
17
who knew I was capable of thinking with my head?
Finn
Shovelling a few slices of toast into my mouth and downing almost a litre of water before I went to bed last night saved me this morning. Thank you, drunk Finn, for being smart.
After I’ve spoken to Ava and let my heart rate settle, I call my mum on my walk to the leisure centre, letting her finally congratulate me on my job interview.
‘It’s still early days,’ I say. ‘I might not get it.’
‘You will.’ There’s a pause before she asks, ‘Does your father know?’
‘I told him I got an interview, but I haven’t told him specifically what for yet. Or where.’
Another pause. ‘And this is definitely something you want?’
I wonder if she’s worried that being closer to him will take me figuratively further from her.
‘You know I’ve always wanted to try living in San Francisco,’ I tell her, avoiding a pile of fried chicken on the pavement. For years, California has always felt like a distant dream. Something was holding me back and I could never quite bite the bullet to apply for jobs there until now. ‘The position seems like it was made for me. It was one of those job ads where I could check off every single item on their requirements list and then some.’
‘Of course it was, you’re so—’ her voice is muffled for a moment, and I can hear someone else in the room before the sound sharpens again, ‘I’m sorry chick, I’ve just realised I should’ve left to drop Ali at robotics five minutes ago, can we chat later?’
I push down the heaviness in my chest. ‘Yeah, of course. Tell him I say hi.’
Just before I push my locker closed in the changing room, I notice I’ve received an email from my dad’s assistant. He’s having a hectic time at work, so I don’t expect much direct contact at the moment. I haven’t mentioned anything specific about the job yet, but I can’t wait to tell him I’ll be moving closer to him soon, if it all works out.
Now, in the pool, choppy water tumbles around me the way thoughts crash against the inside of my skull, and my brain goes to that place it’s been going a lot recently, any time I’m alone.
It goes to a beautiful woman with a near-constant scowl.
I almost fucked up last night. Almost.
When I gave Ava the glass I stole from the bar and her face lit up, I was far too close to blurting out that I felt like I was standing alongside living, breathing moonlight.
And when there was lightning in the air and she was looking at me like I might be able to answer every question she’s ever had, I could’ve so easily leaned in and closed the distance between us.
But when she answered my FaceTime earlier, sleep-deprived and hungover and prettier than anyone should be in that state, I was reminded why I’m grateful I didn’t do either of those things. Because last night, she showed me the quiet, vulnerable side of herself she usually keeps hidden away, showed me a glimpse of the scar left behind when her brother got sick. She’s beginning to trust me, and I won’t jeopardise that.
Then there’s the glaringly obvious fact that she as good as told me that that moment, that almost -something we almost had, was an embarrassing, alcohol-induced mistake. So thank god I listened to my brain, especially when other parts of my body were begging for attention. Besides, I know what she does with the men she usually hangs out with. Her friendship is far more valuable than a drunken night that ends with her never talking to me again.
And even if she were looking for something else from me, I won’t be around for much longer. I refuse to start things I know I won’t finish. The simpler, the cleaner, the better.
As much as I tried to push against it, before Ava came along, I was beginning to feel the brushes of loneliness; the special kind that only exists in a city like this one. So many people, so many lives existing in parallel, but never within touching distance. But since starting the bucket list, London’s felt a little more welcoming, a little more familiar, a little more liveable. That’s too important to lose.
So I’ll stomp out these unnamed emotions, no one will know, and we’ll continue exactly as we were. I’m not going to let my feelings make a mess.