Chapter 40 #2
But Elliot had been real. He’s flesh and blood and infuriatingly stubborn. The picture of kindness, patience, and compassion. I had spent three days helping him, and letting him help me. Opening up to him about things I normally avoid. He had seen me in pain and he hadn’t looked away.
And so I ask myself a question: is it time for me to do something irreversibly stupid?
Maybe stupid isn’t the right word. Brave sounds better. I’ll go with that.
I can’t trust myself that this is the right decision because I simply don’t know what the outcome here will be. But perhaps it’s about time I take a risk.
For some reason, when he isn’t standing right in front of me, the idea isn’t quite as devastating or humiliating.
Before I can think myself out of it, I whip my phone out of my pocket, desperately punch out the first message that I can think of and hit send:
Want to go for a drink?
It sits there in a lonely green bubble. I stare at it with horror as it hovers awkwardly below our previous messages, unprompted and unread.
Oh God. What have I done? Oh no.
No no no no no. No!!
I quickly press my thumb against it and tap the red delete, then bury my face in my knees.
I can’t do it. I can’t ask him out via a stupid message. I can’t text out what I want to say; it doesn’t feel like enough. I resist the urge to scream.
Okay, maybe I can’t ask him out. Never mind. I tried.
I heave out a frustrated sigh and tap my phone against my forehead several times. Elliot’s bright eyes and easy smile leap to my mind and my gut twists all over again.
I sit up, staring at my deleted message.
Then a stupid idea knocks me sideways. It is completely, totally idiotic. But it feels like something I want to do.
I type out a new message and press send.
Where are you?
A small clock symbol sits at the bottom of the message. It isn’t delivering to his phone. I watch it with my heart in my throat, and then force out a groan.
If there’s anything worse than having to admit your feelings, it’s waiting in the space knowing that there’s no turning back.
‘God, oh God, oh God,’ I mutter through my hands as I pull my eyes away from my phone screen. ‘What are you doing, what are you doing.’
I tap my feet impatiently against the wood of the jetty as I check my phone again. The message still hasn’t been sent. I resist throwing my phone into the lake. Would that un-send it??
Not truly allowing myself to think about where I’m heading, I get to my feet and force my legs to start walking.
I’m making my way around the last corner of the lake when my phone buzzes. My hands rush to my pocket, my breath catching when I see his name on my screen.
Firecrest stage
Why? Are you ok?
My heart plummets into my stomach reading his response. I ignore the concerned tone of the message and type out a quick reply:
Where exactly?
I take another breath and swallow down every shred of my pride before typing out another message.
I need to talk to you
Just let me know where you are and I’ll come find you
My shoulders go up to my ears with humiliation at my brazenness. He begins responding immediately, the text bubble dancing as he types.
Nora please don’t come here, it’s absolutely rammed
This doesn’t dim my adrenaline or slow my racing pulse. My body feels like its about to launch itself out of a plane and I’m looking down at a surreal view of the earth.
I’m coming to find you, you can give me directions or you can make things considerably more difficult
I’m being painfully stubborn but at this point I don’t care. As long as I get one last chance to talk to him, at least I would know I tried my best.
Ok I’m leaving now
It might take me a while to get through this crowd but I’ll come find you
What direction are you?
The Lakes side, walking towards you
I’m coming to you, stay there
My body is too restless to stand still and wait for him here, so I keep walking. I march in his general direction, refusing to acknowledge where exactly this path leads.
The Tower Stage comes into view, quietly majestic and strangely welcoming with its colourful flags billowing in the wind and empty surroundings.
With no crowd in sight, it doesn’t seem as terrifying as it did on our first day.
A sea of beer cans and paper cups cover the surface of the field, the grass now worn down from thousands of footsteps and yellowed from the sun and dirt.
It doesn’t feel right to stop. To wait. But the alternative is unthinkable.
Showing up at the Firecrest Stage to find him?
The idea makes me want to cackle and wretch at the same time.
I wouldn’t even be able to find him. Would I?
Would it come across as a thoughtful gesture?
Would he even appreciate something like that?
As thoughtful as it may or may not be, it’s not smart.
But fuck it, I’ve done the impossible before. I survived the crowd on Friday, maybe I can do it again.
Of course, I would have to actually get to the Firecrest Stage first. Without panicking or fainting.
My spine erupts with a burst of hot adrenaline, which I ignore.
It’s time to act. I want to act now. I’ve never fought for something I want like this.
Someone. The years of unspent energy and action have caught up with me, chasing behind me like a shadow.
Keeping me moving so rapidly I’m almost running.
The sound of crunching metal under my feet meshes with the pounding of bass emanating from the Firecrest Stage. It pulses louder and louder as I approach the entrance I never thought I would step through.
What are you doing what are you doing what are you doing
The thought circles around my brain on repeat. For now, I concentrate on breathing in, filling my lungs to capacity, then releasing my breath through my nose.
What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck
If I’m being realistic, I know how bad this idea is.
Recklessly throwing myself into a situation that is likely to trigger a panic attack is something I would never normally do.
I doubt my therapist would condone this level of exposure.
Exposure therapy is meant to be gradual and controlled, which this most certainly is not.
My family wouldn’t condone it, Hennie wouldn’t. Heck, even Elliot doesn’t.
Oh, shit. Hennie.
I scramble to send her a message.
if you’re on your way back to the lakes I am so sorry, I’m not there anymore
I left
I am doing something stupid
Her reply is immediate.
shut up wait
are you going to tell him you love him???
OMG YES GO NORA GO
Now now
I do not love him I have known the man for three days
But I am going to try to be honest, that sort of thing
Wish me luck?? That he doesn’t laugh in my face
he’s NOT going to laugh in your face
not if he wants to live anyway
GOOD LUCK !!!!
I LOVE YOU
WOOOOOOOOO
I bite down a grin as I push my phone back into my pocket, and when I look up, the monstrosity that is the Firecrest Stage is looming over a colossal crowd.
Five men in matching blue outfits move around the stage in sync, belting into microphones.
The music thumps through the speakers, reverberating in the centre of my chest. I watch as fists and open hands bounce in the air over the heads of thousands.
A wave of dizziness nearly knocks me off my feet until I catch myself.
Taking a breath, I walk directly into the mouth of the crowd and let it swallow me whole.