Eighteen Kisses

‘Yeah, that’s a real deal-breaker,’ said Hannah with a laugh.

‘What? I’m trying to be helpful!’ said Sophie.

‘You’re not texting Nick, are you?’ asked Hannah, breaking off from their we-hate-Nick session and finally noticing what I was up to. I didn’t even bother trying to lie. Hannah was an actress – she could spot even the most skilled of fakers.

‘Jacki, give me your phone,’ she said sternly.

‘But a lot of it is my fault,’ I said. ‘I threatened him. I gave out to him for not sharing stuff with me. I said if he couldn’t do that then what was the point of us?’

‘Listen,’ said Hannah. ‘It’s not your fault, OK? Something was obviously not right. You said so yourself last week.’

‘I know… but I never really thought we’d actually break up. I just need to -’

‘You should wait,’ said Sophie. ‘Wait until you’ve calmed down a bit, looked at things rationally, before you text him.’

‘Whatever you say now is going to sound a little crazy,’ said Hannah, ‘no matter how good your intentions. I know you feel like the only thing you want to do right now is fix it, but you have to let him go. He chose to break up with you. He’s a moron for doing it, and either you two weren’t meant for each other, or he’ll realize what a complete idiot he was and come running back. But he’s going to have to realize that for himself. You couldn’t control what happened tonight, but you can control what you do now. Don’t call him.’

It was the only thing I wanted to do right now, but I could see Hannah’s point. I deleted the half-written text without sending it and handed her my phone.

‘You’ll thank me later,’ she said.

‘They should really teach night classes on the subject of boys,’ said Sophie, folding her napkin into the shape of a ship. ‘Forget metaphysics, relationships are the real predicament.’

‘Life is one big long relationship night class,’ I said with a sigh.

Sophie smiled. ‘A friend-ship,’ she said, handing me the folded napkin. I giggled. I was so lucky to have such nice friends. Friends who convinced bus drivers to brake at undesignated stops and bought ice cream to cheer me up and lied about the level of my ex-boyfriend’s hotness. I did wish Colin could be here too, even if he would just say I told you so. He’d been right about Nick. He’d said I was going to get hurt, and now I was hurting a lot. But even though Nick had hurt me so much, I was still sure I loved him. And I really wanted to talk to him. I wouldn’t though. Not yet… I’d take Hannah’s advice.

‘Are you sure you’re going to be OK?’ said Sophie as we arrived at my gran’s gate.

‘Yes, I’ll be fine,’ I said.

Hannah handed me back my phone. ‘Call me if you need anything,’ she said.

‘I will.’

‘And don’t call him,’ she added.

‘I won’t.’

They forced me into a bear hug, only letting go when I’d been suitably squashed.

‘Bye,’ they said in unison.

‘Bye,’ I said, then pushed open the gate.

I opened the front door, stepped into the hallway, then closed the door as gently as possible behind me. It was so quiet, all the lights were off and Gran had gone to bed. In the silence the sadness suddenly hit me like a blow to the chest. I climbed the stairs, went into my bedroom, lay down on my bed and called Nick’s number. It rang out. He didn’t want to talk to me, he didn’t want to see me, he didn’t want to be with me. I felt so empty. I threw my phone on the floor, curled up into the smallest ball my body would allow and cried myself to sleep.

Chapter 18

There’s something comforting in being alone. When you’re alone, you can’t get hurt. And yet we just keep going back for more, keep setting ourselves up for more pain. Because the hope for something great overrides the fear of getting rejected. And I think that’s a wonderful thing, that we’re willing to risk heartbreak because there is a very slight chance that this person might be the right person, that this person might actually love you forever. But I also think it sucks because at that moment I felt so, so horrible.

I couldn’t get angry, and that’s what I needed to be. I needed to get angry in order to get over Nick. When I could see him for what he really was, then I would be able to get over him. I was angry at myself for not being honest with him. Part of me knew he was moody and selfish and didn’t deserve me, but just then all I wanted was for him to hold me. He’d told me he didn’t want to be with me, that he didn’t want to talk to me, but the only thing I wanted in the world right then was for him to put his arms round me. I knew it was completely illogical and I knew I shouldn’t want it, but I did.

I lied to Gran and told her I had a migraine so that I wouldn’t have to go into work at the magazine. I just wanted to lock myself away, but at the same time it was torture to be alone. I wanted to talk to somebody, to get out some of what was in my head before I drove myself insane, analysing it over and over again, wondering how things would have gone if I hadn’t been so stubborn and called him. But then the next second I was thinking, No, why should I have to do everything? Why should I give in to his sulky moods and act like everything’s great when it’s clearly not? Part of me hated Nick for doing this to me. Could he not have waited a few more days? He didn’t know I was working on a case, but he did know I was working at Electric magazine. I wondered how long I could get away with calling in sick.

I heard my door creak. I pulled myself up, thinking it would be Gran offering me more tea. I couldn’t stomach anything at the moment, not even tea, so I really didn’t want any. To my surprise, I saw Hannah standing there.

‘Jacki King,’ she said, barging into my room. I’d just dumped all my stuff inside my door last night, so she had to climb over everything to get in.

‘Yes?’ I said.

‘Get out of that bed.’

‘I’m never getting out of this bed,’ I said.

‘So you’re going to stay there forever?’

‘Yes. I’ve decided I’m going to die of a broken heart.’

‘You can’t die of a broken heart, it’s not possible.’

‘Johnny Cash did.’

‘He was seventy-one!’

‘So?’

‘And he and June were meant to be together.’

I ignored the last comment. Hannah was just being mean now.

‘When was the last time you ate?’

‘Can’t remember.’

‘How come you didn’t go to work today?’

‘How did you know I didn’t go to the magazine?’

‘Dillon told me. He was worried about you.’

‘I’ll be fine,’ I said, trying not to think about the fact that Dillon had said he was worried about me. ‘If I lie perfectly still and try not to move and try not to think, then I’m fine.’

‘Have you heard from him?’

‘No.’

‘Are you going to the magazine tomorrow?’

‘No.’

‘Jacki, are you honestly going to let this take over your entire life? You need to get up.’

Hannah pulled the covers off my bed. I was wearing fleece pyjamas, bed socks and clutching a hot-water bottle.