Diary of a Crush: French Kiss (16 page)

I tore open the envelope and pulled out a card. It had a fluffy kitten chasing a bauble on the front of it. I gave him a look.

‘It’s meant to be ironic, OK?’ he murmured.

I opened the card and a Polaroid fell on to the table-top.

Dylan picked it up and handed it to me. ‘This is your birthday present. I was going to give it to you when we got back home.’

It was a picture of me! Dylan had taken a photo of me, reproduced the image twelve times, each time painting my hair and my eyelids and my mouth a different colour. It was like those famous Andy Warhol silkscreens of Marilyn Monroe.

‘Wow!’ I whispered. ‘I don’t know what to say. It’s fantastic.’

‘I figured you’d like it,’ Dylan commented.

I opened the birthday card again to read the message inside. Dylan had written, ‘To Edie, Happy Birthday. I wish you everything that you’d wish for yourself. Dylan.’ Cryptic much. There were no kisses after his name.

I took a sip of tea. Dylan was looking at me from under his lashes; it was a cool, considered look, as if he was weighing me up, trying to judge what kind of mood I was in. It made me feel very awkward. I started burbling on about what I’d been doing that day, the jugglers and the pink shop. I rattled on and on but I got no reaction from Dylan. Eventually I had to pause for breath.

‘What are we going to do?’ he said bluntly.

‘About what?’

His lips twisted. ‘About us,’ he stated firmly. ‘We can’t go on like this, can we?’

I shook my head. ‘I guess not. So, do you think we can be friends? Do you think we can, sort of, um, stop kissing?’

Dylan stared at me and for a moment I didn’t think he was going to reply.

‘No, I don’t think so,’ he said with a sigh.

‘You don’t think we can be friends any more?’ I asked in a broken whisper. My right hand, which had been resting on the table, started shaking. Like, I had no control over what it was doing. Dylan reached out and gently covered my cold hand with one of his.

‘No, I don’t think we can stop the kisses,’ he told me. ‘They’re too good. I feel like my life is just periods of waiting before I get to kiss you again.’

I think, at that point, my heart missed a beat. And then I said it right away while I still had the guts to say it.

‘I love you,’ I choked out. ‘I can’t help it. And I know you’ll come up with a million reasons why we can’t go out with each other, but that’s my one good reason why we should.’

I looked Dylan right in the eye and he looked straight back at me. It was impossible to suss out what was going through his head. He was stroking the underside of my wrist in an absent-minded way before he grabbed both of my hands and gave them a little shake.

‘Listen to me Edie,’ he said urgently. ‘I think you’re amazing. You’re, like, the most alive person I know. Everyone else seems to move at half their natural speed compared to you. And when I’m with you, you make me realise things that I’ve never even thought about before. Like, when we were on the ferry and you were talking about the wind and the sea and stuff.’

‘But I feel the same way when I’m with you,’ I interrupted, but Dylan shook his head.

‘No, let me say this,’ he ordered. ‘I can’t get you out of my head. I just imagine what you’re going to be like ten years from now and all the brilliant things you’ll be doing and, like, how if you ever have kids how cool they’ll be. And I think that if I went out with you, I’d make you lose all the things about you that are so special. You see the good in everything and all I can see is the bad stuff and the darkness. Do you understand what I’m saying?’

I nodded my head. I understood what he was saying, even if I didn’t agree with it.

‘But you’re wrong, Dylan,’ I insisted. ‘Before I started being friends with you and Shona, I didn’t have anything to say to anyone. I was shy and boring. And all the stuff that you’ve just said about me, that amazing stuff, you’re the one who’s inspired me to be like that. You’ve made me realise that I don’t have to be frightened to tell people about what’s inside my head.’

Dylan looked even more miserable once I’d spilled out my little speech.

‘But there’s other reasons why I won’t go out with you,’ he bit out. ‘It’s too much responsibility, I’d have to spend all my time being someone else because if I’m myself I’ll just end up hurting you. And you’re too young and I’m used to older girls…’

‘Because you can sleep with them!’ I snapped. ‘That’s what this is all about, isn’t it? You want a girlfriend who’ll have sex with you and you know I’m not ready for that.’

Dylan shifted uncomfortably in his seat. ‘That’s partly true,’ he finally admitted.

‘So, you think it’s OK for us to be friends and for me to snog you and then what’s going to happen when you meet one of these older girls? You still get to be friends with me but you stop kissing me and have sex with her instead. And that’s not supposed to hurt me?’ I finished with an angry intake of breath.

‘I hadn’t thought about it like that,’ Dylan said. ‘There doesn’t seem to be an easy answer, does there? Whatever I do, it will end up being the wrong thing.’

‘Not necessarily,’ I protested, without actually thinking about where I was going with all this. ‘Look, I’m not prepared to be second best. I’m giving you an ultimatum, we either start seeing each other properly or we stop being friends. I want everything or nothing.’

I think I shocked Dylan as much as I shocked myself. He took a long gulp of his beer and then looked at the ceiling as if he’d find the answer up there. It felt like the walls were closing in around me as I waited for him to respond. It could only have been a few seconds that passed, but they felt like hours.

Then Dylan scraped his chair back and stood up. This is it, I thought, he’s going to walk out and we’re not even going to be friends any more. I could feel this great, big sob welling up inside me but Dylan wasn’t walking away, he was sitting down next to me and the next thing I knew, he was cupping the back of my head and kissing me really gently on the mouth, as if he was frightened that I’d break in half.

He started kissing a little path across my face until he reached my ear. ‘OK, I’ll go out with you,’ he said softly.

I suppose when I’d thought about it, I always imagined that there’d be a loud clap of thunder and that lots of angels playing harps would suddenly descend from the heavens once Dylan finally said the words. Finally gave in and saw sense. Finally got beaten down by my tears and my tantrums and my utter rightness in the face of his utter wrongness. But, y’know, not so much.

I half-turned and hugged him and then he kissed me lightly on the lips again.

‘Happy Birthday, Edie,’ he drawled and he kissed me again. Greedy kisses, like he’d missed me.

Then we got kicked out of the café by the proprietor who was scandalised by our public display of affection. Dylan took hold of my hand and we ran down the street laughing.

As we neared the hotel, Dylan started kissing me again, his hands in my hair. I couldn’t believe that I’d been stupid enough to think I could have walked away from Dylan and the feel of his mouth on mine. I pulled away.

‘What made you make up your mind?’ I wanted to know.

Dylan stroked a hand down the side of my face. ‘I couldn’t walk away from you,’ he said. ‘And I s’pose I realised that we’re practically going out anyway, so, y’know, we should make it official. Anyway,’ he added with a wicked glint in his eye. ‘It’s not like I had to worry about the competition any more.’

‘What competition?’

‘Josh,’ Dylan reminded me. ‘I thought about how angry I was when you started going out with him. Like, how could he ever appreciate you like I do?’

I gave a little grimace. ‘I’d forgotten about Josh,’ I said ruefully.

Dylan smiled smugly. ‘Good.’

When we got back to the hotel, we found Simon sprawled unconscious in one of the chairs in the lobby.

‘Is he all right?’ I asked one of the art boys who was sitting next to him.

He and Dylan laughed. ‘Well, he won’t be in the morning,’ Dylan said. ‘Once he passes out, it’s impossible to wake him up, he’s going to feel like crap tomorrow.’

‘Up for some more drinking?’ the art boy asked Dylan. ‘Andy’s having a party in his room. Y’know, last night an’ all.’

I’d forgotten that we were going home tomorrow. Dylan looked at me and shook his head.

‘Nah, Edie’s tired.’

I was about to tell him that I wasn’t that tired – I couldn’t have felt more awake if I’d tried – but Dylan shot me a warning look.

‘Art student parties are horrible,’ Dylan laughed as we began the trek up the stairs. ‘Someone would’ve probably puked on your dress.’

When we got to my door, it was a bit awkward. I didn’t know if Dylan wanted to come in or if he wanted to go to the party or what?

‘Have you got your key?’

‘Oh, it’s a long story,’ I sighed. ‘Mia’s got both keys but I think she’ll let me in.’

I banged on the door. No reply. I banged a bit louder.

Dylan folded his arms and settled himself against the wall like he was in for a long wait. ‘Maybe she’s gone to the party.’

‘Hmmm, maybe,’ I agreed.

‘So… D’you wanna come into my room?’ he husked.

God, I’d forgotten about Dylan’s sultry way with an arched eyebrow for at least half an hour. I looked at him and just about came undone.

‘All right.’

He straightened up from the wall and walked across the corridor.

‘You coming then?’

Dylan was holding the door open for me. The few steps towards the open door seemed to take forever, but then I was in his room.

‘It’s very tidy,’ I commented brightly and tried to remember that it was just four walls and a floor and a ceiling. ‘I thought boys were dead messy.’ I couldn’t think of anything else to say.

‘I’m an art boy,’ joked Dylan. ‘I hate mess.’

‘You’re forgetting that I’ve seen the inside of your car,’ I reminded him. ‘It looks like a tramp died in it.’

‘Are you going to sit down?’ Dylan asked me. I was standing in the middle of the room, twitching because I felt so nervous. I perched on the end of the nearest bed and smiled uneasily.

‘Relax, Edie,’ Dylan smiled. ‘Take your coat off, I’m not going to eat you.’

I shrugged my coat off and wriggled up the bed so I could rest a pillow behind my back.

Dylan came and sat next to me.

‘Well, this is cosy,’ he said.

I didn’t really know what to say. There were a million thoughts racing through my head. Like, Dylan was my boyfriend now. And I was on my own in a hotel room with him and he was being dead… smoochy with me.

‘Oh, don’t go all shy on me,’ he groaned.

‘Well, stop looking at me like that.’

‘Like what?’ he murmured, giving me one of his most smouldering stares.

‘Like that!’

Our eyes met and I knew that we were going to start kissing in precisely three seconds… one, two, three.

Dylan’s mouth came down hard on mine. One of his hands cupped my chin while the other crept round my waist, turning me towards him. He nipped at my bottom lip with his teeth before sliding his tongue into my mouth. It felt so right, I didn’t want it to ever stop but my boots were really pinching me. I tickled Dylan under his arm.

‘What?’ he said, laughing softly.

‘My boots are hurting,’ I whispered. ‘I have to take them off.’

When you’re in the middle of a serious kissing thing, everything you say sounds really intimate, even mundane stuff about footwear.

I unzipped my boots and kicked them off and reached for Dylan again but this time I ended up lying flat on the bed with him half-lying on top of me. I could feel his ribs digging into me but I didn’t mind, especially when he started nibbling on my neck and stroking along my collar-bone with his fingertips.

‘We’re just going to kiss, right,’ I reminded him softly. I didn’t want to kill the mood but I was worried that things might get out of hand unless I set some boundaries while I was still capable of rational thought.

‘Don’t worry,’ rasped Dylan. ‘There are thousands of things that I want to do that involve just kissing you.’

‘I love kissing you,’ I said dreamily.

‘I love kissing you too,’ said Dylan, smiling. ‘And I love these little freckles on your shoulder. I think I’m going to kiss every one.’

It was true. Dylan could make kissing the most exciting activity in the world. He kissed my shoulders and then stroked all the hair back from my face, before planting little butterfly kisses on my forehead and my eyebrows and my eyelids before reaching my mouth again. And when he kissed my mouth, it wasn’t like those kisses you tell your friends about where you joke about boys trying to slip you a bit of tongue; it was as if he was touching my soul.

Eventually we had to come up for air. It was getting cold and while Dylan went to get me a glass of water, I rubbed my arms and tried not to shiver. Magic dresses are all very well but they’re not very warm. When he came back, Dylan climbed onto the bed and pulled the covers around us. He curled himself against my back, put his arms around me and kissed the back of my neck.

‘Do you think Shona or Mia are back?’ I asked.

Dylan groaned. ‘Oh, don’t go yet. I never get you to myself.’ I could feel him laughing.

I reached behind and poked him. ‘What are you laughing about?’

He kissed the back of my neck again. ‘I don’t know why I held out so long,’ he whispered in my ear. ‘I think you’re going to be the most perfect girlfriend in the world.’

Hearing him call me his girlfriend made it suddenly seem real. Like, I’d achieved the impossible. After all these months and all the kisses that didn’t lead anywhere and all the times we’d argued, I was in Dylan’s arms and it was for keeps. Hopefully.

‘Call me your girlfriend again,’ I demanded.

‘Edie’s my girlfriend. My girlfriend’s called Edie,’ Dylan chanted, laughing again. ‘See that girl over there with the really wicked eyebrows, that’s my girlfriend, Edie.’

Dylan was running his fingers along my arm and it made me shiver in a way that had nothing to do with the cold and when he started gently biting my earlobe, I began to tremble.