Diary of a Crush: Sealed With a Kiss (17 page)

‘You’re right. But if I’d stayed then…’

‘Well, we’ll never know, will we?’

‘I’m just saying that the little girl in there she’s feisty as hell. You need a strong woman like that.’

‘… Edie’s not that strong. She’s all over the place most of the time. She’s changing every day. When I’m with her I feel like…’

I held my breath. It was like when you dream that you’re falling and your heart misses a beat. I felt like I was pitching downwards with nothing to grab on to to steady my fall.

‘Like what?’

‘I don’t want to talk about her with you. You don’t know her. It’s like, like she’s changing so fast, trying to run in all these different directions and all I can do is follow her and hope that when she’s ready to stop, I’ll have caught up.’

‘You don’t have to catch up with her. You can do anything you want Dylan, you could come over here; go to a really good art school.’

‘You’re not listening to me. I don’t want to be like you, constantly searching for some big dream that doesn’t exist and making everyone around me unhappy. So what if I’m stuck in Manchester, so what if Edie’s moving on…’

‘You kids think first love is forever. It’s not, Dylan. If she’s moved on, then maybe you should too.’

‘Screw you,’ Dylan snarled. There was the sound of a chair being scraped back. ‘You don’t understand. People aren’t just
things
that happen to you and then disappear, Edie and I were proper. She made me a better person and now I’ve lost her. And I don’t want to move on. I want to stay where I am, with her.’

I sat up in bed and pushed the sweaty strands of my hair away from my face. Everything was so messed. I didn’t want to split up with Dylan but once someone’s done the things that he had, you can’t undo those things. And just because I was the one who’d called it quits, didn’t mean that I’d got away free from all the pain and misery that happens when you tell the love of your life that you don’t want him to be the love of your life any more. The raw hurt in Dylan’s voice echoed around the empty place in my chest where my heart used to be.

I lay back down and kicked the sheet off, hoping that some stray breeze would blow in through the window and cool me down. Instead, Dylan crept through the door. I’m such a coward that I pretended to be asleep. But Dylan crawled into bed and reached out to touch me. Still feigning sleep, I inched away because if he touched me I’d get all undone.

Then Dylan started crying. Quiet choked sobs and when I turned over and asked if he was all right, he practically threw himself into my arms. I rested his head on my chest and I stroked his hair and murmured soothing words that didn’t really make any sense.

We didn’t talk about it the next day.

Am I glad to be on the road again. Dylan’s calmer after his crying thing. I s’pose he was so twisted up inside that he had to let it out. We’re talking again. Which is good but being Edie the best friend, instead of Edie the girlfriend is not so good.

I mean, it was my decision, yeah? So I have to be all bright-faced and optimistic to show that it was the right decision. But I don’t feel bright-faced and optimistic. Not at all.

But I’m also glad to get out of the trailer park, or the trailer to be more specific. Watching Estella and Lenny was not my favourite spectator sport. I couldn’t stand the way she’d constantly ask his opinion about everything and how she’d start most sentences with, ‘Lenny thinks’ or ‘Lenny says’. It wasn’t her sappiness that got on my nerves; it was the way she was so hopelessly in love with someone who didn’t love her back. I don’t think Lenny loves anyone. Not even himself. He’s what my nan would call a troubled soul.

Which probably explains why yesterday morning when we were leaving he was nowhere to be found. I hugged Estella and promised to keep in touch and even managed to ruffle the mini-Dylans’ hair without flinching (nits were a big possibility). Then it was Dylan’s turn to be pressed against Estella’s amazing double E-cup mammaries and play-wrestle with Johnny and Hank. After that came the awkward hanging around while we waited for Lenny, and Estella tried to make excuses for him.

‘D, we should get going,’ I said eventually. ‘He probably doesn’t like goodbyes.’

‘No change there then,’ Dylan muttered darkly, as he got into the car.

I took the peanut butter and jelly (that would be jam) sandwiches that Estella had made for us and gave her one last hug.

‘You take care honey,’ she sniffed, giving me a little push towards the car. ‘And you don’t be a stranger, Dylan. I know your daddy’s real proud of you but he don’t like to get all emotional and…’

‘Just drive,’ I hissed at Dylan as I shut the car door. ‘Or we’ll be here forever.’

Estella was still apologising for Lenny as we drove off. I waved and waved until we cleared the trailer park entrance and I couldn’t see her any more.

I glanced at Dylan. ‘You OK, D?’ I asked lightly.

‘Yeah, I shouldn’t have expected anything else from him,’ he replied.

‘Like Estella said, I just don’t think he’s good at showing his feelings,’ I said carefully. ‘Look, we’ve got miles to go so I’m going to take over the music selection and you just put your foot on the accelerator and worry about the driving.’

Dylan smiled a little. ‘Thanks, Edie.’

‘For what, bossing you about?’ I laughed.

‘You know what for,’ murmured Dylan.

I was just turning the volume up on
Write about Love
and telling Dylan that he’d listen to Belle and Sebastian and damn well like it, when we saw Lenny standing at the side of the road.

I wanted to tell Dylan to carry on driving but he was already pulling over. Lenny opened one of the back doors and threw a bag inside. My internal Civil Defence System started clanging but Dylan was already jumping out of the car.

‘What are you doing?’ he asked Lenny who was in the process of joining his bag on the back seat.

‘What does it look like?’ said Lenny. ‘I want out of this town. I need to be on the move again.’

I decided to stay where I was but I turned off Belle and Sebastian and studied one of the guidebooks very intently. Dylan had to handle this one on his own.

He started by grabbing the bag and handing it back to Lenny.

‘You can’t come with us,’ he told him sternly. ‘You’ve got a family to take care of.’

I tilted the windscreen mirror so I could see what was going on. Lenny had his hand on Dylan’s shoulder.

‘You don’t understand. I feel like I’m trapped,’ he tried to explain. ‘I need to be free.’

Dylan shook his hand off. ‘No, what you need is to show some responsibility for the first time in your life.’

‘Dylan…’

‘No, don’t try and talk your way around it,’ Dylan snapped wearily. ‘You can’t bail out every time things get difficult. Estella thinks the world of you, though I don’t know why, and you have two sons who need a father.’

Lenny’s shoulders slumped; he looked defeated. ‘I thought it would be fun. A bonding thing.’

Dylan looked unimpressed. ‘It’s too late for us but it’s not too late for you to go back to that bloody trailer and start acting like a grown-up.’

Way to go, D.

Dylan got back in the car and Lenny leant in at the open window. ‘Don’t hate me too much, Dylan,’ he said with a wry smile. ‘And don’t forget about me.’

Dylan clasped Lenny’s hand in an awkward grip. ‘There’s no danger of me forgetting you, Lenny,’ he said wearily. ‘We have to go, if Edie doesn’t eat some fresh fruit and veg soon she’ll get scurvy.’

I waved half-heartedly at Lenny. ‘Well, bye then. Take care,’ I said comfortingly. Be nice to Estella, I added to myself.

Lenny smiled at me. ‘I hope you two work it out.’ He banged on the roof of the car. ‘Go on, get out of here.’

For the second time, we drove off.

I squirmed round on the seat so I could share a horrified glance with Dylan.

‘Did that really happen?’ I exclaimed in a bewildered voice.

‘Oh yeah,’ said Dylan.

‘Are you upset?’

Dylan considered the question for a moment and then pulled a surprised face. ‘Actually, no. I feel really relieved that we’re out of there and I feel really good. Like, I’ve got rid of some of my demons.’

‘Some of them?’ I asked in a mock-scared voice. ‘You mean there are
more
?’

‘You’re a real comedian, Eeds,’ said Dylan sarcastically. ‘A lot’s happened, most of it my fault but I know the rest of the trip is going to be pain-free.’

‘Why did you go and say that?’ I snapped. ‘You’ve jinxed us.’

‘What
ever
, Miss Glass Half Empty!’

Texas is big. The largest state in the union to be specific and men wear cowboy boots and stetsons with their business suits and not a hint of irony. And everyone says ‘y’all’. As in ‘Y’all have a nice day.’

Dylan and I have been having nice days. Lots of them. Now that the itinerary is gone, we meander from one place to another, enjoying the getting there as much as the being-there-and-getting-to-have-a-shower. But I was kidding myself if I thought we could be friends. We’re not friends. We’re two people who have split up and are trying to put a brave face on it.

’Cause even after all the crap that Dylan’s put me through, I love him. And although rationally I realise that you can’t be with someone who shuts you out all the time, I miss all the little things. Like Dylan driving with his hand resting on my knee and the way that we’d share a big, gooey ice cream but I especially miss the hot nights in those motel rooms when Dylan was all around me, the smell and taste and feel of him. And I’d go to sleep in his arms with the sound of his heartbeat being the last thing I’d hear before I fell asleep. I ache with longing.

We sit opposite each other in diners and the brush of his leg against mine under the table makes me lose my appetite. And at night when we’re lying in our twin beds and I hear Dylan’s slow, even breathing and steal a glance at the smooth lines of his back and shoulders, I itch to creep across the room and touch him. What’s even worse is when Dylan leans against me to change a CD. Or when the heat gets too much and he decides to pull off his T-shirt and drive bare-chested
and
he asks me to put sun cream on his back.

We don’t talk about us though. We talk about everything but us. And when I hear Dylan talking about his art and how the trip has inspired him or even hear him spend half an hour musing on what kind of food he wants for dinner that night, it makes me love him even more. No, Edie! These are bad, bad thoughts.

Dylan decided to teach me how to drive. Let me recount the many ways in which this was a stupid idea: I have very low concentration levels, even less co-ordination skills and I can’t talk and do something else at the same time.

‘I’m worn out from all the driving,’ Dylan whined when we were still 200 miles from El Paso, Texas where we were meant to be spending the night. ‘You have a go.’

‘No,’ I gasped. ‘I don’t know how to. I’ve never had a lesson in my life.’

Dylan looked unconcerned. ‘It’s easy. It’s a straight road so you don’t have to worry about steering, you put one foot on the accelerator pedal and when you want to stop, you press down on the brake pedal instead.’

‘But what about the gear shift?’ I asked in a terrified voice. ‘No, I didn’t say that. I’m not driving. We could get pulled over by the police. We’d get deported. My mum would kill me!’

Dylan stopped the car. ‘It’s OK. It’s automatic – you just stick it in “drive” and then you don’t have to do anything else. Come on, we haven’t seen another car for miles. There isn’t another town for miles so we have to get to El Paso and I have killer backache.’

‘I could rub it for you,’ I offered weakly. If I don’t have to touch you while I’m doing it.

‘Oh come on Eeds, don’t be a chicken.’

I glared at him. ‘I’m not being a chicken,’ I protested. ‘I’m being serious.’

‘Bock, bock, bock,’ said Dylan softly.

‘Fine,’ I snapped, unbuckling my seatbelt. ‘But if we wind up dead then don’t blame me!’

Driving was horrible with added bits of horribleness. There were loads of things to remember and it was boring.

Dylan made lots of encouraging noises but all I could concentrate on was the vast grey expanse of road in front of me. Dylan meanwhile propped his feet on the dash and leaned back in the seat luxuriously before putting on the Hank Williams CD he’d bought to remind him of the demon spawn that was his half brother.

‘Turn it off,’ I demanded. ‘Put on something I know really well, otherwise I can’t concentrate. New sounds, driving; too much to take in. And don’t keep talking to me.’

‘You were the one who was talking to me,’ Dylan protested.

‘I said don’t talk to me!’

After 100 miles, Dylan took pity on me and we swapped over again. Secretly I was quite proud of myself. Driving was so grown up. But all that tense concentration had left me with a raging headache. I massaged my neck and closed my eyes.

The next thing I knew we were in El Paso and Dylan was driving into the car park of a Best Western Motel.

I slowly opened the car door and slid out, almost falling over. Dylan was at my side in a flash.

‘You all right?’ he asked in a concerned voice.

‘Tired and headachey,’ I mumbled. ‘Let’s check in and find somewhere to eat so I can go to bed.’

I lay on the bed and wondered why all motels came with a regulation brown floral quilt while Dylan brought our suitcases in. I felt very odd, almost as if I was floating.

The bed dipped as Dylan sat down. ‘Edie? I just asked you three times if you were all right,’ he said, pressing a hand to my forehead. ‘You’re very hot.’

I sat up and tried to ignore the rush of dizziness that almost sent me sprawling back on the bed.

‘I’m hot because it is hot,’ I grumbled. ‘Can we just go and have dinner?’

Ignoring Dylan’s outstretched hand, I got to my feet rather shakily and walked to the bathroom to splash my face with cold water.

He’s having a shower now and I wish he’d hurry the hell up. I feel really icky…