12
‘See you next week.’ I wave goodbye to the little ones and drop down on a purple pouffe.
I’m still in my pumpkin costume and Flynn’s over to the side of the children’s area, leaning against the door to the library garden, and grinning like a kid opening presents on Christmas morning.
I wave, it’s all good, we can just be friends.
Then he runs his fingers through his messy fringe and starts strolling towards me, all loose-limbed and easy, and my nerve endings spark with every move that he makes.
And I tell myself to breathe through this, forget this. I can’t have this. Flynn may have the starring role in my dreams, but after last night, hearing what he said about Natalie, I know I’m not his leading light and I never will be.
I’ll always be the sweet goofy sidekick, the faithful best friend.
If I don’t screw up this chance that the universe has been good enough to grace me with at last. I promise myself again I’ll give it my best shot.
I know all the standard buddy lines, and I’ve even nailed the costume this morning, and that’s the first thing he comments on.
‘Oh man, this was worth flying home for. You should sing that song for the Samhain session and wear this outfit too.’ He grins as he pokes my padded orange middle, and I screw up my face and stick out my tongue.
If I’m going to play the part of a smiley stuffed vegetable, I might as well give it all I’ve got.
‘How long are you home for?’ I ask him at last. I’ve been skirting around this question since Flynn arrived back and I’m not sure why I’ve finally managed to let it out.
Maybe it’s everything we talked about last night.
Knowing that he’s still hung up on Natalie, and that things weren’t as easy for him as I assumed when he left.
I wonder if that’s part of the reason he seems in no rush to get back.
Because he needs a friend to talk to. And because maybe I’m not the only one who needs a fresh start.
‘I’m not sure yet.’ He rubs at the crease above his nose; the same place he used to smooth out for me when I’d get anxious. ‘It depends on Pat. I have to talk to him some more when he’s home next week. There’s a lot we need to work out. And to discuss with my parents.’
‘Sounds serious. Is everything okay?’
‘Yeah, it’s all good. Well, with Pat anyway.’ His jaw tightens. ‘I’m not so sure about my parents.’
‘But you don’t want to talk about it?’ An old familiar ache tugs at my chest. Maybe Flynn doesn’t need me after all.
‘Oh, Gracie, I do.’ He crouches in front of me and takes hold of my hands. ‘But nothing is decided. And I don’t want to get your hopes up and then let you down.’
‘You mean when you have to leave again,’ I say quietly.
His eyes linger on mine as he squeezes my hands. ‘No, it’s not that. I promise as soon as I’m sure about everything, you’ll be the first one I’ll tell.’ He tilts his head. ‘Okay?’
‘Okay.’ I take a quick glance over to the desk, where Conal, our temporary library assistant, is working his way through the queue of customers. He spots me checking and gives me an I’ve got this wave.
I turn back to Flynn. ‘I’d better go and change before we lock up.’
‘Sure.’ He lets go of my hands and stands up. ‘I’ll check out the gardening section while I wait. And I thought we could go for a walk down by the lake after lunch, if you’re up to it.’
‘’Course I’m up to it,’ I scoff as I rise from my pouffe. ‘I might not do push-ups every morning but I can manage a lakeside walk.’
‘Well, that was a pretty energetic workout you just did.’ He grins, then his eyes narrow and I see the question forming in his mind before he speaks. ‘How do you know I do push-ups?’
My face warms. ‘I heard you talking to Conal earlier about football, about keeping up your training. And there’s no gym in Oakwood, so I presume you work out at home, when I’m not there .
. .’ I’m getting hotter by the minute, as I try to cover up my blunder, and picturing Flynn pumping up and down, wearing nothing but those teeny white football shorts, is definitely not helping me cool down.
‘Anyway, I have to run.’ I puff out a breath. ‘I’ll pass out if I don’t take this costume off.’ I jog across the library, and upstairs to the staffroom, and pray Flynn believes it’s only too much woolly padding causing me to overheat.
We have lunch in the Corner Bar, at our favourite table by the stove, and Flynn spends the hour cartoon drawing locals in Halloween costumes, with speech bubbles that capture everybody just right.
He draws Jamie as a sequence of puffed-up pumpkins with a middle that gets larger every time he speaks, until he eventually explodes, and there are speech bubbles flying everywhere.
He’s flicking the pages to animate the sketches, setting us off with the giggles, when Jamie blasts through the door.
He veers for the bar and I don’t think he’s seen us.
But as he reaches the counter, the door swings open and Olivia bursts in, her face pale and streaked with mascara.
She makes straight for Jamie and grabs hold of his arm, and he turns around to face her, looking so distressed that I almost feel sorry for him.
‘Olivia, please, I’ve told you we can’t keep doing this,’ he says, loud and exasperated and seemingly oblivious to multiple cocked ears. The Corner Bar regulars love a good gossip.
‘Because of her,’ she howls, and I feel guilty listening. She sounds stricken and desperate and nothing like the over-confident ice queen I’ve always taken her to be.
‘When you’re not even sure she’ll take you back.
’ She lets go of Jamie’s arm and her mouth twists as she calls out, to him and the entire lunchtime crowd, now hanging on every word, ‘He’s back too, you know.
My cousin told me all about him, how she never went anywhere without him, before he ran off to the States.
And how she’s hanging out with him again.
All the time. So don’t come crying to me when you find out she’s been using you the same way you’ve been using me. ’
Shit, I forgot Olivia has relatives in Oakwood.
Every head in the room jerks towards our table, and Jamie and Olivia follow the trail, until they’re both open-mouthed, gaping at Flynn and me. Olivia, fair play to her, gathers herself first.
‘See, what did I tell you.’ She shoots out an accusing arm. Then she turns on her high heels and storms straight back out.
Jamie moves to go after her, but he pulls himself back. He tilts his head from side to side as though he can’t make up his mind which way to turn. He looks unsure, which isn’t like him, and I wonder if Olivia has hit a raw nerve. But then he pushes back his shoulders and scowls straight at Flynn.
Jamie never liked Flynn. Because Flynn got at least as many admiring glances from girls, and he took absolutely no notice of Jamie, until he asked me to the ball.
And if there’s one thing Jamie hates, it’s to be sidelined or ignored, especially by someone like Flynn who didn’t even want the attention Jamie craved.
Sarah always said that what pissed him off most was when their football coach made Flynn captain of the under sixteens.
Jamie had always been team captain. His father made sure of it.
But they got a new coach, one who didn’t give a damn about local politics, and Jamie sulked so bad he quit the team for a year.
I think he might still be sulking, but I’ve more important things to worry about, like the way he’s furiously scowling at Flynn.
Does he really believe I’ve been pining for Flynn all this time?
And can I honestly tell him, and myself, and the entire gawking crowd, that Olivia’s got this all wrong?
That I’ve only ever seen him as my friend.
Jamie starts walking towards us, and it’s like everything’s happening in slow motion, except my heartbeat which feels like it’s galloping towards a solid brick wall. Flynn reaches a hand down to give mine a squeeze under the table and whispers, ‘It’s okay, I’ve got you.’ And I let myself breathe.
Jamie towers over us, glaring at Flynn. Then he turns to me and his face softens a smidge. ‘Gracie, please.’
Am I forgiven already for cutting off his performance at the meeting last night? I never know with Jamie. His moods can change with the breeze.
Flynn keeps one hand on mine beneath the table and uses the other to close his notebook before Jamie has a chance to spot himself exploding across the page.
‘Gracie and I are friends. That’s all we’ve ever been.’ He looks straight at Jamie, and it sounds like he believes every word. ‘She’s not interested in me that way, so whatever it is you’ve done, whatever mess you’ve made, it’s all on you. Not Gracie.’
Jamie clenches his fists and glowers down at Flynn, then his eyes flick to mine again and I blink and shake my head. And Jamie sighs with what sounds like relief.
He thinks my head shake means no. No, I don’t have feelings for Flynn. No, I haven’t been nursing a wounded heart for ten years. No, you weren’t just my shiny consolation prize.
And I can’t tell him otherwise, not with a bar full of locals hanging on our every word. Oh God, how did I not see this? Was I the world’s worst girlfriend? I guess I’m not great best friend material either. I feel nauseous as I look from Jamie to Flynn and back again.
Remembering how Jamie treated me like a princess that year after we got together at school.
And for a long time after, he seemed proud that I was his girlfriend.
Sure, he’d get annoyed when he’d see Flynn’s Christmas cards.
But I wasn’t about to hide a card from an old friend.
I swore to him that Flynn and I were only friends.
And I honestly believed that, because I’d long ago given up hope of anything more.
And I think Jamie believed me too, until Flynn called me in London, after he broke up with Natalie.
I’m not sure why he called, I think he just needed someone to talk to.
But I didn’t get to ask him how he was or help him talk through the heartbreak of losing the girl he’d been with for years.
Because Jamie interrupted and then went into a sulk telling me I cared more about Flynn than I did about him.
It didn’t help that he saw me in tears, holding Flynn’s card, the following Christmas, even though I think I was just missing Oakwood and old friends.
I told Jamie that, but I don’t think he believed me, and it feels like he’s been testing me ever since.
These last few months when I looked back, desperately trying to figure out what went wrong, I convinced myself it was all down to Jamie. But maybe he did only sleep with Olivia because he thought I didn’t care about him. Or that I didn’t care enough. Oh God, I feel more confused than ever now.
‘We need to talk,’ Jamie snaps. ‘I need to talk to you.’ He jerks his head towards the door. ‘Come on, Gracie, you owe me that.’
And he’s back. The old Jamie. The one who’s good to me if I play the game according to his rules.
‘You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.’ Flynn leans close so only I can hear, and I release a ragged breath, and feel my resolve slowly seep back in.
I might be confused, and I do feel guilty about these strange, muddled feelings I’ve been harbouring about Flynn. But I’m tired of centring my life around Jamie. And I feel proud of the way I handled him last night, in front of Flynn, in front of everyone. I can’t let him derail me again.
He frowns when I don’t respond. ‘Aren’t you coming?’
I shake my head. ‘No, I’m not.’
His nostrils flare. And Flynn squeezes my hand again, and I hear what sounds like a low growl come from somewhere deep in his chest.
‘Gracie and I have plans.’ He lets go of my hand but not before giving it another squeeze. Then he stands and eyeballs Jamie. ‘And if you really do want to talk to her, try asking properly next time.’
Jamie’s face turns puce and he looks ready to explode.
My eyes fall to Flynn’s notebook, and I have to clamp my lips tight to force back my grin.
I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to look at Jamie again without seeing him as a puffed-up pumpkin cartoon.
And that feels like a gift, my own personal superpower to stop him wearing me down.
Flynn’s gaze follows mine and I catch the spark in his eyes.
Jamie gasps as he stares at me, eyes wide with outrage. ‘Are you laughing at me?’
‘No, of course not.’ I clamp my lips tight to quell the giggles threatening to burst out. ‘But I am busy this afternoon. And I have your number, Jamie. I’ll call you when I’m ready.’
‘This is all your doing.’ He points his finger at Flynn’s chest and scowls before he turns back to me. ‘I told you he’s a bad influence. I hope you realise that before it’s too late.’
He’s still standing there furiously shaking his head – waiting for me to apologise, I think – when my whole body starts to shake, and before I can stop myself, I’m giggling like a mischievous schoolgirl, and Flynn covers his face with his hand to stifle a snort.
And the whole bar gapes at us like we’re their lunchtime soap opera. Jamie cast in the role of the bleeding-heart victim and me and Flynn the cold, heartless villains. Only, I think everybody here knows us too well to believe that.
As Jamie storms out, Flynn gives me a proud smile, and I get a weird fluttering in my stomach. Then I remember Olivia’s accusations, and Flynn reassuring Jamie that there’s never been anything between us, and I remind myself I can’t go there. No fluttering allowed.
Now that I have him back in my life, what I want more than anything is to hold on to that friendship.
And the last thing I need is to mess that up with unrequited feelings, again.
I might not have been the best girlfriend to Jamie, but I can try to be a better friend to Flynn.
Mind you, it would help if he could just keep his shirt on.