Diary of a Crush: Kiss and Make Up (3 page)

Too late. Too late. It was all too late.

Oh God, how could I have been so stupid? I’m like, Queen of the Losers. We were doomed from the start. Like, I was always more into Dylan than he was into me. And I’d practically forced him into being my boyfriend. It wasn’t like he ever wanted to go out with me. And I knew I should be angry at them, at Dylan and Mia, but I should have known I wouldn’t be able to keep him.

And when I got in after just walking and walking, Mum was yelling because I hadn’t been at the allotted meeting place and they couldn’t ring me because I’d left my mobile on the freakin’ pavement. I walked up the stairs and then she was yelling at me again because Dylan was on the phone and even though I didn’t want to speak to him I picked up the receiver to hear Dylan say in that throaty way of his, ‘We need to talk,’ and all the stuff inside of me collapsed. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow on the bridge,’ he added, while the tears spilled down my face.

I wore black to match my mood. As I shrugged myself into slouchy trews and a shirt, all I could think about was that I didn’t have anything to say to him. There was nothing to say. It was impossible to make it all right. Things were messed and there was no way to unmess them.

To be honest, I s’pose I half-hoped that Dylan would tell me everything was going to be OK and I’d got it all wrong. But they’d been kissing. You can’t come back from a kiss you gave to someone else when your girlfriend had got a ringside seat.

It was one of those perfect days. The sky was that sort of blue you always want to paint your bedroom walls but you can never find the right colour on the paint charts. I wished it was raining.

Dylan was wearing jeans and the cool Hawaiian shirt we’d found at a Crimbo jumble sale. I watched him standing on the bridge for a minute and even after all this time just looking at him could make my stomach dip; he still had the power to make me feel all unnecessary. That was half the problem. The sun was glinting off his hair and as he saw me he straightened up and put a hand to his eyes to shield them from the glare. Or maybe he couldn’t bear to look at me ’cause as he walked towards me I knew I had a really accusing look on my face.

I sat down on the bench under the willow tree.

‘Hey you,’ Dylan said, as he sat down next to me.

‘Hey,’ I muttered quietly. I looked at my toes poking out of my flip-flops like they were really fascinating. Dylan shifted restlessly next to me.

‘So is this the silent treatment?’ he asked. ‘You not talking to me?’

All I could think about was him kissing Mia.

‘I’m not
not
talking to you,’ I mumbled. ‘I
can’t
talk to you.’

‘Well that’s helpful.’

Dylan was meant to be full of apologies and excuses and promises that it would never, ever happen again. He wasn’t meant to be so bloody difficult.

‘I should have known that something like this was going to happen,’ I said in a rush. Dylan turned to look at me with a guarded expression on his face. ‘I mean, you don’t tell me anything. Like, you wouldn’t have told me about your mum if she hadn’t chucked you out. And you didn’t even tell me that you were going to see Mia yesterday until I found out from Shona.’

Dylan rolled his eyes. ‘That’s because you’ve been going on about it for weeks. It’s, like, all you could talk about,’ he spat out. ‘OK, so what do you want to know about my oh-so-fascinating life? C’mon, I’ll tell you anything.’

But there was nothing left that I really needed to know. I’d seen him kiss Mia. And that was it. There was a pause before I said: ‘This just isn’t working, is it?’

‘What? This conversation or us?’ Dylan asked like he didn’t really want me to tell him.

‘Us,’ I said in a tiny voice. ‘I think we should stop seeing each other.’ I’m sure I only said it because I wanted Dylan to tell me that he was going to make everything better but he didn’t. He gave me such a venomous look that I could feel myself shrinking back against the bench to try and get away from it.

‘You know, Edie, that’s fine by me,’ he finally drawled. ‘I thought you were different but you’re just a lightweight. You can’t cope with anything that exists outside of the dream world you live in.’ He stood up and walked off without even looking at me. All I could think as I made my way home was that he’d never even told me that he loved me.

I feel terrible. Really terrible. I didn’t think having a broken heart would make me feel so achey and nauseous and sore-throaty. I just want to die.

Do you know what works really well when you’re trying to avoid bastard, jerkface ex-boyfriends? Going down with gastric flu, that’s what.

I’ve missed the last couple of weeks of college due to puking my guts up and being generally delirious. Mum even took time off work, that’s how ill I’ve been. But it was kinda nice. She parked me on the sofa with a quilt around me and we watched old black-and-white movies on TCM and when I wasn’t crying or throwing up, she’d stroke my hair.

Dylan is maintaining radio silence. Shona came round once when I was sleeping and she must have told him I was ill but I didn’t get so much as a Get Well Soon card from him. Because he cares
that
much.

Today I felt better. I ate scrambled eggs and actually managed to keep them down, which is so of the good. Because I’ve lost, like, a stone and my tits, which weren’t exactly filling out a B-cup anyway, have shrunk to little bee stings. Then I realised that Dylan would be leaving college in about a month and going off to someplace else to do his degree in September. And I’m trying really hard to hate him but just the thought of him not being
here
made me cry all over again. You’d have thought my tear ducts would have dried up by now.

I’m recovered and trying to catch up on all the college work I’ve missed. I’m only crying about every other hour now and I was even allowed out to meet Shona for a coffee.

It was a little awkward. We made polite small talk about a band who were playing soon and tried not to mention the D word until I burst into tears. Again.

‘Oh Edie,’ she murmured sympathetically. ‘You’ve really screwed up this time and you look awful.’

‘
I’ve
screwed up?!’ I spluttered. ‘
I
didn’t go and snog someone else.’

‘Dylan didn’t…’ she started. ‘Look, you two need to talk.’

I shook my head violently and wiped a hand across my eyes. ‘That’s just it, we can’t. We were dreadful together. We were, like, the worst couple ever. All we did was argue and get off with each other; it’s not exactly the basis for a relationship, is it?’

Shona squeezed my hand. ‘I could speak to him.’

I pulled a face. ‘What’s the point? He doesn’t care. I didn’t see him bringing flowers and bunches of grapes over when I was sicking my guts up. He didn’t think we were worth fighting for.’

‘Well, neither did you.’

‘Gee, thanks, Shona, now turn the knife counter-clockwise,’ I snapped, but I couldn’t help myself. ‘Has he said anything about me?’

‘I haven’t seen that much of him,’ Shona insisted. ‘He’s shut himself away. Look, why don’t you come and see Bikini Dust next week? Just you and me. We’ll have a girls’ night out.’

‘I guess.’ I sighed. ‘At least it’ll get Mum off my back.’

‘Well, that’s settled then,’ said Shona with a triumphant gleam in her eyes.

I didn’t fancy going to see Bikini Dust play. I wanted to skulk around my room and listen to my completely depressing mope-rock playlists that I’ve been making but Shona forced me out of the house. It was my first big outing since I got ill and I looked utterly revolting; all scrawny and pasty so it probably wasn’t a good idea to wear black. I looked like a total Goth. Worse, I looked like a Goth with a smack habit.

Shona was acting all twitchy and weird too. I asked her when the band was coming on about five times before I actually managed to get a reply. And no wonder. Because we’d only been there ten minutes when Dylan strolled in. I hadn’t seen him for nearly a month and I figured I’d managed to wean myself off him. He had on this disgusting pair of checked wool trousers that Shona and I had begged him to never wear in public and a bizarre pale blue shirt with ruffles down the front. But who was I kidding? He’d never seemed more beautiful or more out of my reach. Though he really needed a haircut, I could hardly look at his face, at his cheekbones and the glitter of his eyes so I kept my gaze firmly on his black Chuck Taylors.

‘You didn’t tell me
he
was going to be here?’ I yelped at Shona before hurrying off when I saw him striding over in our direction. I hid behind a speaker stack and watched Dylan having a go at Shona, judging from the expressions on both their faces.

It wasn’t until the band came on that Dylan suddenly appeared beside me.

His eyes were boring into me but I refused to acknowledge him until he bent down slightly and hissed in my ear: ‘So are you better now?’

‘I’m fine.’

‘You don’t look fine. You look like the poster girl for flu,’ was his charming reply.

‘Ta, ever so,’ I muttered but I don’t think he heard.

‘I got into the Fine Art course at the university so I’m staying in Manchester,’ he continued. Although I would never have admitted it to anyone I felt a tide of relief wash over me. But I just said, ‘Whatever.’

‘It’s nice to find you in such a talkative mood, Eeds.’

I turned round to face him. ‘What the hell do you expect?’ I screeched. ‘I’m meant to be all happy and pleased to see you? After all the crap you’ve put me through?’

Dylan grabbed my shoulders and hauled me against him. ‘So what do you think happened, Edie?’ he shouted at me.

‘I saw Mia with her tongue down your throat!’ I screamed, suddenly realising that it was the quiet bit between songs and most of the audience were staring at us.

The band started up again as Dylan bit out: ‘Yeah, you saw Mia kissing
me
.’ He shook me gently. ‘But you didn’t wait round for explanations.’

‘You’ve had three weeks to think up an excuse.’ I slapped his hands off me. ‘And it’s not even a good one.’

‘I shouldn’t need to make up excuses, you should trust me!’

‘So you admit it was an excuse?’ I pounced.

Dylan shot me a look of complete disgust. ‘You can’t even see what’s right in front of you! Just grow up, sweetheart!’ He pushed me away but I grabbed his arm and started yelling about what a pig he was. He yelled right back that I was immature and needy. We were making so much noise that the lead singer of Bikini Dust halted the song and told us to shut up.

I’ve never been so mortified in my whole life – Dylan and I were
escorted
off the premises by two bouncers. Of course, then I started crying (which is getting to be a really old look for me) and Dylan started being nice to me, which involved hugging and hair-stroking and we ended up having this intense kissing session. Dylan had me backed up against the wall of the club when Shona, Nat and Trent burst through the door.

‘You two sort it out for God’s sake!’ Shona barked at us before disappearing. Dylan went rushing after her. And me? I went home.

I did something either really stupid or incredibly brave today, depending on your politics. I went and spoke to Mia.

It took me ages to find her but eventually I tracked her down to the library basement, where you can smoke without setting off any alarms.

Normally Mia’s the definition of brazen but she seemed quite taken aback when she saw me padding towards her through the stacks.

‘You look like shit,’ she said, but it lacked the usual bite.

‘I need to talk to you about Dylan,’ I said, sticking to what I rehearsed. ‘I saw you kissing a few weeks ago and I want to know what’s going on.’

She nibbled on a fingernail while I folded my arms and waited for a response. ‘Have you asked him?’ she said eventually.

I shrugged. ‘He said
you
were kissing
him
. Didn’t look like that to me.’

She gave me one of those cat-like smiles of hers that make me want to punch her. And she had on this completely ridiculous T-shirt that she’d slashed so it would look punk but really I think she just wanted people to look at her tits.

‘Me and Dylan go way back,’ she said. But see, normally with Mia she spurts out all this evil crap right off the bat and this time she wasn’t. She was actually taking time to engage her brain cells before she opened her mouth.

‘I know but I’m not talking about way back, I’m talking about a few weeks ago.’ I was being so calm. I couldn’t begin to imagine why. ‘You know we’ve split up?’

Mia’s head shot up from where it had been contemplating the end of her cigarette. ‘Because of me?’

‘Well, yeah…’ I perched on the edge of the table. ‘It’s kinda hard to carry on seeing someone once they’ve kissed their ex-girlfriend.’

‘Oh, but I was never his ex-anything,’ Mia protested. ‘It was just to make Paul jealous…’

And then she did something that I never expected her to do in front of me. She burst into tears.

It wasn’t to make me feel sorry for her, it was proper crying. With snot and howling and her hands over her eyes. I found a tissue in the bottom of my bag
and then I put my arms around he
r
!

‘Paul… love him… can’t bear it,’ was about all the sense I managed to get out of her for a while.

But finally she stopped crying and was at the stage where you scrub at your face with a ratty tissue and hiccup gently. ‘I know you think I’m the biggest bitch in the world,’ she spluttered. ‘But I love Paul, I really love him and I can’t stand to see him with
her
and he’s happy and it’s not because of me.’