40 Things I Want to Tell You (4 page)

Adam99 sounded great. I wished Griffin could be more like him.

As soon as the thought crossed my mind, I regretted it. Griffin wasn’t pressuring me: what he wanted was
normal.
I paused before answering Adam99, pulled out a sheet of paper and began to write a list.
Pros of having sex with Griffin:

• First time is a big deal and it will be with someone I trust and know well.

• I’m not shy with him.

• He loves me.

• It will be a good step for us as a couple.

• He’s my best friend (apart from Cleo!).

• I’ve known him forever. We’ll be friends forever—together forever.

• We will be careful and safe.

Cons of having sex with Griffin:

• I am feeling pressured. Not sure why. Not sure I should have sex just because I feel pressured to. Maybe I’m feeling worried because it’s my first time. Will it hurt?

• He’s my best friend. Okay, this is a pro too, but sometimes it seems like a con.

• Although I’m not shy with him, maybe I will be if we’re not wearing clothes. Might be weird.

• Is he the one? I know he is and we have a great future planned, but sometimes he’s just so … so him. I wish he could be more confident and more mysterious—maybe I just know him too well.

• I keep thinking about Pete Loewen. The idea of being with him doesn’t make me feel anything except excited. Maybe this is a pro reason for having sex with G … Would it get me back in the right headspace?

Seeing the words I’d written led me to doodle a frustrated series of angry lines and squares under the list. This was getting me nowhere. I scrumpled up the page and chucked it away, returning my attention to Adam99.

CLEO CAUGHT UP WITH ME BY THE LOCKERS ONE AFTERNOON AFTER
the final bell.

“What’s up with you?”

“Nothing. Everything’s good.” Rain began to spatter against the opposite window. “I guess I’m stressed about school.”

I thought back to when Cleo and I met. We were eleven and were attending a photography class that Mum got for me as a gift. I noticed Cleo right away. She had streaks of purple in her black hair. I’d never seen anyone my age with purple in their hair.

She stood in the middle of the room, her fancy camera looped round her wrist on a pretty chain, and said to the teacher, “I don’t really like taking photos.”

I envied her camera, I envied her purple streaks and I envied her for being cool. Pure hatred quickened in my blood. I decided that the way she’d spoken to the teacher was the rudest thing I’d ever heard, so I was furious when we were paired up to work together.

The girl hooked her arm through mine as if we’d been friends forever and said, “So how are we going to make the time go faster?”

“I like taking photographs. I
want
to be here,” I replied.

She started laughing.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“You are. You’re so cross and stiff, like a cardboard cut-out. You need to relax.”

“You need to realize you’re not the centre of the universe.”

She laughed harder. “You’re hilarious,” she said. “I think I love you.”

“I’m not being funny. Let go of my arm.” I put my hand up and said to the teacher, “Please can I be paired with someone else?”

The teacher sighed. “Come on, girls. Let’s get on, shall we?”

“But she doesn’t even
want
to be here.”

Cleo said, “Because it’s a
Saturday.
Who wants to be on a course on a Saturday?”

“Why did you come, then?” I spat.

She shrugged. “My dad bought it for me as a Christmas present.”

“My mum got it for
me
as a Christmas present and I’m
happy
about it. I want to learn about photography.”

She smiled broadly, her braces showing fully in her mouth. “Okay, well, let’s learn about photography. At least I’ve got you as my partner. That should make things better. What’s your name?”

Even though I didn’t like her, I couldn’t help but warm to her smile. She was what my dad would call a live wire. “Bird,” I said. “It’s my nickname. My real name’s Amy Finch.”

“Don’t be mad at me, Bird.”

“Can we just get on with this?”

“You’ve forgiven me?”

The rest of the day was great, but afterward I figured I’d never see her again. However, we started at the same new school in September of that year, and we both grinned like idiots when we recognized each other.

Now Cleo said, “Uh, helllooo, Bird, I’m still here. Sure you’re all right?” She slung an arm over my shoulder. “Come on, ‘fess up. Is the idea of having sex freaking you out?”

I turned away from the window. “How do you know what’s going on in my head?”

“Your first time, it’s a big deal …”

“But it’s me and Griffin, remember? It’s so obviously the next step for us.”

“It’ll be over before you know it. Then you won’t have to worry.”

“Yeah. I guess so. Can we talk about something else?”

“You know, you don’t always have to be the one giving advice. I can listen too.”

“I know, I know. Maybe you’re right and I should just get the whole sex thing over with. It’s just Griffin, right?” I said it again. “Right?”

“Well, you know him better than anyone. He’s been kind of like your brother forever.”

“Oh my God, that’s disgusting.”

“I don’t mean it like that. It’s just, you were best friends for so long that the thought of having sex with him might be weird.”

I wondered if I should tell her about my crush on Pete—perhaps she could help me figure it out. I was just about to try to bring it up when she spoke.

“So I tried to ask the hot guy out. Pete.”

Jealousy flared through me. Pete Loewen was
nothing
to me, so I shouldn’t care. Oh God. I was going to have to watch Pete and Cleo together the
whole
time.

“Huh. So, um, when are you seeing him?” I asked, trying not to sound like I felt.

“Mr. Sleeps-Around turned me down. Me?” Her eyes widened. “I told him I’d heard he wasn’t the type to turn women down and he laughed. He’s going to have to do the running around when he realizes what he’s missing.” She pulled her music-playing phone out of her bag. “Oooh, gotta take this. It’s Joe—I think things might work out with him.”

“Joe Friesen?”

She nodded.

“See you later,” I said. I leaned against my locker and took a breath. Thank God Pete had turned Cleo down, although I couldn’t understand why he’d done it. She had boys after her all the time. He was probably playing hard to get. I slammed my hand against the cool metal door. I hated that I was thinking about him again.

I pushed off from my locker and jogged down the corridor, suddenly keen to get out of school, glad classes were over for the day. I shoved open the main door and stepped out, rain dampening my hair and clothes. I should have gone back, but instead I hurried out the front entrance, my shoes splashing up water. Ruined. I was being an idiot. I stopped under a clump of trees in the small park opposite the school, feeling weirdly free. The rain eased off a little and I smoothed my hair behind my ears, wiping my face on my sleeve. The wet and the cold felt bracing, and my skin tingled. When a hand touched my upper arm I almost jumped out of my soaking clothes.

I spun round and was practically in Pete Loewen’s arms. I could see dewy drops of rain on his cheeks and I could smell the cigarette he must have just smoked. I’d imagined being close to him more times than I cared to admit, but it was even better in real life. The rain slowed to a light drizzle.

“So,” he said, his mouth easing into a smile.

“I, uh, what, um.” Not cool.

“I wondered if I’d be able to get anywhere near you,” he said.

My heart was slamming, my skin on fire. I figured steam was probably rising from me, considering the heat generated between us. I should have stepped back but I couldn’t stop looking in his eyes. They were the colour of flint.

As I stared at him, I figured something out. He
wanted
me. I could
tell.
No, I was being ridiculous. He could have his pick of any girl in the school—he’d just turned Cleo down. I was way too ordinary for a guy like him. A girl like Cleo was tall, slim, gorgeous, whereas I was just … just okay.

“I, uh, should go,” I stammered. My body was humming. This close I could see a tiny scar cutting up from his top lip. Silvery. I wanted to touch it.

“So, Amy,” he said. His voice was low and steady. “Finally we get to talk. It seems like you’ve been wanting to talk to me.”

“I, um, I don’t know what you mean.”
He knew my name!

“I’ve seen you staring. You’re sweet when you blush.”

The blush I’d been trying to stop seared my cheeks. I stood my ground. “I haven’t been, um, staring at you,” I said, my voice coming out way less confident than I wanted it to.

“I saw you the first day I started at this school. You and your
boyfriend.
”

“Huh. I, uh, hadn’t noticed.”

“If you say so.”

He leaned closer, and even though his lips weren’t touching mine, I felt the warmth of his breath. His face was damp from the rain.

He murmured, “You’re a terrible liar. I know you’ve been looking at me, because I’ve been looking at you.”

My insides zipped all the way up and I sucked in a breath.

“So what’s the deal with you and that guy?”

“Griffin?”

“Him.”

“He’s my, uh, boyfriend.”

“Are you sure?”

I stood with my face upturned, his mouth a heartbeat away from mine. With a fierce jolt, I knew I wanted him to kiss me more than anything.

“This is crazy,” I mumbled, mustering all my self-control, but wanting to cover the millimetres between us and taste his lips on mine.

He murmured, “I’m not so bad, you know.” His expression was hard to read. He stepped back, leaving me with nothing but cold air on my mouth.

“That’s not what everyone says,” I managed to whisper.

His eyes narrowed and he gave the smallest of nods, like my words had just confirmed something he didn’t want to hear. Just as I was trying to understand what was going on in his head, he turned his back and sauntered across the street to school like nothing had happened.

And nothing had happened. Technically.

AFTER THE NON-INCIDENT (WHICH IS WHAT I WAS CALLING IT) WITH
Pete in the park, I forced him from my mind and tried extra hard to be the perfect girlfriend. I kept my head down at school, ignoring Pete Loewen at all times, kept things light with Griffin and tried not to think about the night of my birthday.

But November 3 rolled around faster than I could have imagined. The idea was to have supper first with Cleo, Griffin and my parents. Cleo knew all about the big sex plan, so she kept smirking at me.

Mum ordered in Thai food from the place she always used when we had Thai, and the table in our cozy kitchen was laden with foil boxes full of spicy and steaming delicacies. Everything smelled delicious, but because I knew what was coming later, my gut was knotted like a rope. I wasn’t even sure I could eat. I found it hard to look at Griffin. I reassured myself that after this, everything would start to feel normal again.

Dad came to join us at the table and everyone served themselves.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out. A text from a number I didn’t recognize. It read:

Bet Ur thinking about me.

Pete? It had to be him.

My heart leaped about like a fish in a net. I swallowed the feeling. “Could someone, uh, pass me the, um, green curry?” I had studiously avoided speaking to Pete since the moment together in the rain. The non-incident—so unimportant I hadn’t even told Cleo, so unimportant it was
all
I’d been thinking about—had been interfering with my concentration at school.

Mum handed over a silver box of hot curry. I smiled quickly at her but she didn’t smile back. She looked even paler than usual, with dark blue circles under her eyes: I should probably have made time to ask her what was up.

Dad chatted away. “I can’t believe you’re seventeen, my gorgeous birthday girl. I remember the day you were born. You had this little scrunched-up face and crossed eyes and a little upturned nose and you were the most beautiful baby in the whole world. You used to burp so loudly—”

“
Dad
, stop.”

“You were a darling. When you were about four, you came up to me and said,
Can I marry you when I’m older, Dad
?”

“Gross,
stop
!” I cried, giggling. I was enjoying the banter with my dad, while secretly thrilling at the idea that Pete was waiting for me to reply.

Dad said, “You wept when I explained you couldn’t ever marry me—”

Mum cut in. “Anyone want any cashew chicken? I got an extra box because I know you like it, Griffin.”

Griffin said, “Sure, thanks. Remember when we met, Bird? You were in a clump of bushes. You had a broken leg.”