Chapter 19: It's A Date

We drove back in silence until we got to the edge of Westmouth when I asked Emily to swing by the leisure park so that I could check out of the hotel. By now everyone would know I was back in town so there was no point wasting money when I had a perfectly good room back in Wintersmith.

After we deposited my things in my room on campus, I asked her if she’d follow me back into town in her car while I dropped mine off for its repair job. She failed to hide her concern when she saw the damage but kept her comments to herself on the drive back up the hill. Then she dropped me off at Wintersmith and promised to come and check on me later. I trudged back to my room, threw myself on the bed and stared blankly at the telly. I couldn’t even tell you what I watched. I think it might have been the news channel.

I really wanted to be alone, but I’d left the door open through sheer force of habit—I’d been propping it open ever since I’d moved in way back in September. So it was my own fault when Mark wandered into the room and plopped down in the red chair he’d pretty much made his own.

“You’re back then?” he grunted in his distinctive rich northern tone. Sometimes his voice had so much bass in it you felt it in your gut.

I shrugged. “‘Spose.”

We both stared at the screen. There was some report about the economy and how it didn’t seem to be getting any better. The incumbent government were still blaming the previous one, but they—now the opposition—were saying that the government had failed to sort things out after two and a half years so they should now implement their plan (conveniently forgetting their plan was what caused the mess in the first place). In another two and a half years, I’d get my first chance to vote in a general election and, honestly, I didn’t think much of any of the parties. They all seemed incompetent to me.

“You’re a twat, you know that?” Mark said, out of the blue.

I looked across at him, but he was looking at the screen. I sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. I am.”

“Just so long as you know.” A few seconds later, he added. “You disappear like that again, I swear, I’ll fucking kill you.”

I smiled. I think that might have been his way of telling me he’d worried about me. “Fair enough. Reckon I’d deserve it.”

“Damn straight. Glad we got that sorted.” A couple of minutes after that he turned to look at me and said, “This is boring. Pizza, pool and a pint?”

“Yeah. Why not?”

“Good. You’re buying. I reckon it’s only fair and, I mean, it’s not like you can’t afford it or nothing.”

“Eh?”

“Oh, come on, d’you think I didn’t notice? I know you said you didn’t have to worry about money but the way you always make sure it’s your round by the time we get to The Union or Central Pier—where the drinks just happen to be the most expensive. Or the way you always seem to have the latest DVD releases for Sunday nights? Either you’re so shit with money that you’ll run out before we graduate or you really, really don’t have to worry about money. And I don’t think you’re shit with money.”

I think I blushed.

“Besides, Emmy clued us in.”

I felt my anger rising and I muttered through gritted teeth, “She had no right.”

“She had every right mate, and you know it. Besides, it was just me and Imogen, and we’ll both keep our gobs shut, count on that, but Emmy just needed us to understand what went on before, you know? The whole story. All of it.”

I wasn’t pleased, but I kept my mouth shut. Mark was right—I could trust both him and Imogen. If I couldn’t, then who could I trust?

“And it’s not like it makes any difference to me one way or t’other. You’re still a mate. We are mates, right?”

“Yeah. Course.”

He nodded. “So ... as a mate, right...”

“As a mate...”

“Whatever you need to do to sort your head out, just fucking do it. All right? Get it sorted.”

“Easier said than done.”

“Yeah, well, when you’re ready, let me know. I’ll back you up.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem. Goes without saying really. So, you ready?”

We stood and walked towards the door. Mark turned to face me as I locked my door and added, “Imogen describes herself as ginger, by the way.”

“No, she doesn’t.”

“Does too. I asked her. I said, would you describe yourself as ginger, auburn or something else?”

“And she said?”

“She said, what do you think, and I said ginger and she said there you go then. So there you go. She’s ginger.”

I shook my head.

“Tasty bit for a ginger, mind you. Right tasty.”

I smirked. “Come on, let’s go. Do you think Jem will want to come?”

“What it is he always says? Does the Pope shit in the woods? No, wait, that’s wrong.”

I laughed. “Text him and tell him to meet us there.”

I suppose if there was ever a good time to have a breakdown then I’d picked it. With everyone busy studying for or taking exams they had less time to gossip—or it put it a better way, less time to bug me with constant questions about what the hell had happened. And because there were also exams scheduled for Saturday morning, I didn’t even have to come up with an excuse for not going out on Friday night. Hell, even on Saturday all anyone wanted was a quiet drink in one of the campus bars and that suited me fine.

For the rest of the two-week exam period, I had breakfast with Imogen (and Steve, as usual) every morning. If we had a morning exam then we had lunch together too. If not, then I had lunch with Mark instead after locking myself in my room studying all morning. And each evening, I ate with Mark and Jem before heading to the bar to play pool with the pair of them—our collective concession to relaxing.

My last exam was on the Thursday afternoon of the second week. I’d yet to leave an exam early, while Imogen had left about half of them before the end, waiting outside the exam room for me every time. During this last exam, she’d stayed to the end and as we walked out of the exam room together, we bumped into Katie, who had finished about five minutes earlier and was, apparently, waiting for me.

“Paul! Hi!” she called, waving me over to her.

I looked at Imogen, who shrugged, then at Katie, who was still beckoning me over to her.

“Hi,” she said again when I stepped in front of her.

“Hi.”

“Erm ... Paul ... I was wondering...”

“Yes?”

“Well ... I mean, exams are over now, for us at least, but, like, all my friends back at the hall still have exams tomorrow.”

“Most of mine do too.”

“So, like, going out to celebrate is totally off the table until tomorrow night, right?”

“I suppose.”

“So ... I was thinking ... I mean, if you wanted to ... maybe we could, you know ... have our own celebration. You know, finish what we started that night in The Union. Before we got interrupted. What do you say?”

<<Oh, hell yes! That what he says!>>

For almost two weeks, I’d hardly heard a peep out of her but at the first hint of any sexual activity, there she was again.

<<Come on, Paul! It’s been, what? A couple of weeks? That’s a hell of a long time to go without. She hot, she’s eager and she’s just your type!>>

Katie stepped closer and put her hand on my chest. Despite the fact we’d been cooped up in an exam room for three hours, she didn’t half smell good. And she was hot. Seriously hot. No man in his right mind could possibly turn her down when she offered herself to him like this, could he?

But I wasn’t in my right mind. I hadn’t been for a long while.

“Katie, look—”

<<Don’t do it, Paul! She’s laying it in on a plate for you! Don’t pass it by!>>

“—I’m not so sure it’s a good idea right now.”

“Really?” The expression on her face was one of pure sexual hunger and her tone of voice was straight out of some Hollywood erotic thriller. “Why’s that?”

Her face was right in front of mine now. All it would take from her was to move her head forward slightly, capture my lips with hers and that would be it. It’d give in. Lose control. Give in to the voice in my head. Her breathing was laboured. So was mine.

<<Come on, Paul! She wants you. You want her. Just do it. Do it!>>

I stepped back. “It’s just ... It’s just not, okay.” Still stepping slowly back I added, “It’s ... It’s not you, okay? It’s me. I’m just...”

<<Oh, it’s you all right, Paul. You disappoint me.>>

“I just ... It’s just ... Oh, fuck.”

“Well, that’s what I had in mind.” Her eyes flashed dangerously.

“Hey,” I felt a gentle tug on my elbow and turned to see Imogen grinning at me. “Buy me a beer?”

I sighed, relaxed and nodded. “Oh, yeah.”

Imogen smiled at Katie and said sweetly, “Join us?”

I gaped at her in alarm. The last thing I needed was to let Katie work on me until I gave in. But Katie smiled back—it couldn’t have been more false looking—and said, “No. No, it’s fine.”

“Sure?”

Katie nodded. “No. Honestly, it’s fine.”

Imogen nodded too and then some unspoken message passed between them and Katie’s smile changed, looking far more genuine—as if she suddenly understood. What she understood, I have no idea.

“Another time, huh, Paul?”

“Erm...”

“Just make it soon, okay?”

“Yeah ... Soon...”

She turned and strode away and I let out the breath I didn’t realise I’d been holding in.

“Thanks,” I said to Imogen in genuine relief.

“Don’t thank me yet. We need to talk.”

“Talk?” Again?

“Yep. About Vanessa.”

Oh, shit.

We went back to the bar in the admin building by Wintersmith and Imogen found us a table while I bought the drinks. When I sat opposite her and handed her glass over, I said, “Come on, let’s get this over with.”

“What?”

“You’re going to lecture me? Right?”

“No. Not at all.”

“What then?”

She sighed. “Look, Paul, I know it’s not your fault, but honestly, you freaked Ness out big time when you asked her to be your girlfriend.”

“But I—”

“You what?”

“Well, technically, I didn’t ask her to be my girlfriend. Not really.”

Imogen arched her eyebrow at me.

“Okay, I suppose I did. Sort of. Maybe.”

Her eyebrow stayed arched.

“Okay, I did. But only because she asked me to.”

“Huh? Okay, tell me what happened that night. I’ve heard Ness’ side, obviously, but ... Well, she wasn’t exactly very detailed. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. To get your side of things.”

“Oh. Right. Is that all?”

“Give me your side of things and we’ll see.”

I rolled my eyes. That didn’t sound good.

“Okay. Well, basically, I told her I had a really good time that evening we spent together and asked if she wouldn’t mind doing it again.”

“Yep, that’s what I thought you did.”

“But she didn’t answer straight away. Then she asked me if I was asking her to be my girlfriend.”

“And?”

“And ... Well ... I kinda figured that’s what she wanted to hear, so I told her I suppose that’s exactly what I was doing. And that’s when she said no.”

Imogen nodded. “Okay. That makes sense.”

“I’m glad it makes sense to someone.”

She smiled warmly at me and reached out to put her hand on top of mine. “This is going to sound corny, like when you said it to Katie just now, but Paul, really, it wasn’t you. She didn’t say no to you. She said no to being a girlfriend. Anyone’s girlfriend.”

“Huh?”

The warmth in her eyes seemed to deepen. “What you have to understand is what she’s been through. Before she came here.”

“And what has she been though?”

She took a deep breath. “You have your secrets, Paul. Would you want everyone to know them?”

I shook my head.

“It’s not my place to tell you. It’s hers. If she wants to. I’ll just say she’s only ever had a bad experience of being a girlfriend. The word doesn’t mean the same to her as it does to most people.”

“Okay. So why are you telling me this if you can’t tell me this?”

“Because.”

“Because what?”

She lifted her glass and took a long pull on her pint. Imogen was about the only girl I knew who drank pints of lager like the men. Most of the other girls insisted on half-pints or shunned beer altogether. Emily, for example, preferred those ghastly fruit flavoured concoctions.

She put her glass down and said, “Paul, I think that you and Ness dating would do you, the both of you, good. And Emily and Mark agree with me. About it doing you good, at least. They don’t know Ness well enough to have an opinion.”

“But you said—”

“I said she doesn’t want to be someone’s girlfriend. And, honestly, I don’t think you want a girlfriend either. But I think both of you can stand to have a regular date instead of what you have been doing. Look, you’ve been nailing anyone who’s shown the least bit of interest—until today. And even then, you nearly caved. And Ness has been flirting with all sorts all year. You saw her that night in The Union when you—Well, that night. I don’t even know the guy’s name she was dancing with. I don’t think she did either. And she’s been like that all year. Only, while you stick your dick in any hole available—”

“Hey!”

“Well, you do. Or you have been doing. But while you’ve been a massive man-slut—”

“Hey!”

“Well, you have. And interrupt me again and I’ll deck you, all right? While you’ve been bonking everything that moves.” She gave me a stern look and waited for me to say something. But I didn’t. “She’s a big tease. She leads guys on. She shows them to the garden gate, but never lets them up the path if know what I mean?”