Chapter 15
NESS
I don’t call Evan. Abby says I’m stubborn, playing hard to get. Whatever. Why would I open myself up to him again? I’m keeping out of all things male and all things student. As originally intended.
The bookmarks tab on my laptop grows daily with Internet research on backpacking. By my calculations, I should have enough money to go by spring. Six months. Half a year in my call center life pains me but then I think some people will always work there. I’m lucky to have the time and opportunities I have.
I scroll through one of my favorite blogs, read an update on the girl whose adventures I’m following. She’s in Australia and the place looks amazing. The huge blue skies above her contrast with the gray evening encroaching my life from now until spring and I sigh. Six months. Maybe I should start a countdown. Create my own blog.
Someone knocks on the door and voices carry up the stairs. I glance at the clock. 7PM. Around the time Abby goes out. Curiously, there’s only one other voice. Male. Interesting, I’ve not met the new guy she’s been talking about. Sneaking out of the room, I lean down the stairs to see him. And look straight into Evan’s face.
My rear bumps onto the carpeted step, aware my own face has inflamed. Evan smiles warmly; not his sexy grin but a friendly smile. His eyes are less confident than usual.
“Hey, Ness.”
I offer a small smile in return but I’m dizzy and my stomach churns. Every minute of the night in bed with him tumbles through my mind on fast forward, I’m drawn to how damn sexy he looks without even trying. He stands, hands buried in his pockets, blue jacket open.
“Did Abby say I asked you to call?” he asks.
“I did,” said Abby.
“Oh. I thought you might call?” he asks, “I wanted to catch up.”
“It’s a while since I’ve seen you. And you could’ve called me. You’ve got my number.” As I look at his face, memories of those lips on mine and on my breasts resurface, and my face grows hotter.
“I did try to contact you,” he said quietly, “but you didn’t answer.”
“Eventually you did. And by text.”
“Okay!” said Abby, “I think I’m going to finish getting ready to go out.” She sweeps upstairs and on the way past leans down. “Be nice.”
I trudge downstairs, wishing I wasn’t makeup free and in mismatching clothes.
“How’s work?” he asks.
“Shit. How’s poetry class?”
“Pretty good. Missed a few lessons when I was away.”
“Yeah? Didn’t know they taught at weekends.”
Evan perches on the arm of the sofa, steadying himself. “I was away longer than the weekend, Ness. I texted you when I got back.”
“Don’t they have mobile reception in Lancaster?”
Something in Evan’s face opens me to him. A haunted expression, as he blinks away whatever thought crossed his mind. “It was a difficult time.”
Oh, cra
p
. Maybe someone died. “But it’s okay now?”
“It’s not something I want to talk about.”
Hidden secrets. Broken boy? Not my problem.
“Anyway, you didn’t call and you wouldn’t reply to the texts I sent so I thought I’d come round.”
“Why?”
Evan tips his head, hair falling to one side. “Why do people normally visit other people’s houses?”
“There’s a whole number of reasons.” I head to the kitchen, away from his maddening, physical pull.
“I came to see you. To talk to you. And apologize.” He’s in the doorway, leaning on the frame, mirroring the evening we first spoke. Apart from he’s more upright than that first night.
“You don’t need to apologize.”
“I feel like a fucking cliché, Ness. I slept with you, arranged to meet you then sent you an ‘I’ll call you’ text.”
“Did you want a drink?” I turn to the kettle.
“Good idea, we can go for a beer.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Ness…” I turn back round, aware my hands tremble slightly. Evan’s hands are tucked under his arms, folded across his chest. “I know. I’m asking you to come for a drink with me. To apologize.”
I consider his offer. His explanation for not calling is semi-plausible. But he didn’t say he’d explain.
“I don’t feel like going out tonight. And not with you.”
He frowns, and I think it’s at himself and not me. “Tomorrow?”
“I don’t know.”
“Okay, how about I ask you on a date?”
I lean against the sink. “A date? Really? You’re not very good at keeping dates.”
“I’m sorry, I fucked up. But I want to get to know you. I told you that before. We just got…interrupted.”
He’s sucking me in again. Not by choosing to flash his sexy smile at me, but by his openness. His admittance he did wrong.
“I don’t know…” My resolve wavers as he steps towards me, as if we’re being magnetically pulled.
“Please, Ness. At least let me apologize for hurting you.”
“You didn’t hurt me,” I snap, “I knew what I was doing.”
“Okay…” I can tell he doesn’t believe me. “But you’ll come out with me tomorrow night?”
Jeez he doesn’t give up. “I’m working tomorrow night.”
“No problem, I’ll pick you up around ten tomorrow morning.”
He grins and turns, leaves before I have a chance to protest. As I switch the kettle on and wait for the water to boil, I fight with myself, annoyed at how pleased I am he came over.
****
EVAN
Why can’t I keep away from her? Doing the love them and leave them thing has never bothered me. Not once. I don’t do guilt. The longer I waited for her to get in touch, the more apparent it became she wasn’t going to. I’m not used to this situation either - normally girls get on my back if we’ve gone as far as sex, wanting more from me. Ironically, the first time I want a girl to, she’s not bothered. Then I saw Abby who was clueless what’d happened between me and Ness, but still gave me a hard time, and the guilt over hurting Ness caught up with me. Ness was so close, sitting in her car but I wasn’t brave enough to go over. I hate confrontations, crying girls. But after seeing Abby, everything tumbled back, all the feel good memories from being with Ness. So I gave in, decided to apologize and see how I went.
When I knock on her door the next morning, Ness answers dressed in jeans and a baggy jumper. She’s wearing lip-gloss, which I think is a good sign? Her shiny lips draw memories of kissing them. That evening was so long ago now, so much happened in my life in between.
“Where are we going?” she asks as we head to my car.
“I made a picnic.”
“Picnic?” Ness looks at me as if I’d told her we’re going to spend the day running naked though the streets.
“Sitting, eating food. Why, does picnic mean something else in the South of England?”
“No, I just wouldn’t associate you with picnics. And it’s November.”
She opens the car door and steps in, wrinkling her nose. I climb into the driver’s seat. I really need to clean my car, the fast food wrappers are taking over. The same greasy odor assaults me too.
“I hope that’s not the picnic I can smell,” she says and smiles at me.
From that moment, I know I’ve made the right decision.
****
NESS
The patchwork
Pennines in the distance make a welcome change from the brick and concrete views of the city. The move from Cheltenham to Leeds was jarring, swapping my green countryside life for urban sprawl, and I took a while to readjust. Getting out of Leeds feels like taking a lungful of fresh air.
Evan drives away from the city, the suburbs growing smaller until we hit the motorway. I eye the road signs as we pass.
“You’re not taking me to Lancaster, I hope?”
His hands grip the wheel a little tighter. “Definitely not.”
“I get the feeling you really hate the place.”
“Yeah.”
A muscle twitches in his cheek. I want to ask why he went back but understand he’s closed the book on his old life as much as he can. Even after the mysterious visit. Same as me. My parents wanted to come to see me and I refused. Despite leaving on okay terms, I don’t want them entering into my new life. Interfering.
And I don’t want to break the news to Mum I’ll be leaving the country for a few months. On my own.
“So, where are we going?” I ask.
“There’s a town I like. A world away from Leeds, but only a short drive.”
His car isn’t comfortable, springs begin to surface under the fabric and after an hour I shift around uncomfortably. Our conversation dries up after half an hour, acknowledging we barely know each other. I bite the inside of my mouth as the realization I slept with a guy I hardly know hits again. Some of my grabs at independence aren’t well thought out. Besides, I don’t know how to talk to him without getting snarky. The words just come out that way. I’m a little less pissed off with him now, but I don’t trust his motives.
Gradually the road begins to wind through the hilly countryside, lined by winter trees. We stop in a beautiful mill town, parking by a park near the canal which cuts through the center of the stone built houses.
“It’s so quiet,” I say as he pulls a rucksack from the car boot. “Amazing views.”
The hills are closer now, the town cutting a path through the valley, stone walls crisscrossing the fields above us.
Evan hitches the rucksack over his shoulder and grabs my hand. His cool fingers encircle mine and my stomach lurches. I look down at his large hand around mine, arm stiffening.
“Can I hold your hand?” he asks, grip loosening.
After what we did in my bedroom, I think the hand holding stage has been skipped, so it’s odd for him to ask me. I don’t reply and I don’t pull my hand away.
We wander silently along the towpath, where a long barge is wedged in the lock, water gushing in to move the vessel down. We lean over the gate and watch, waving at the excited children on their boat trip. As the barge settles onto the canal below, we continue along the path.
“We’re a world away,” I say.
“I thought you’d like it here.”
Evan’s choice of picnic spot is a wooden bench table beneath a tree. For once, the winter day is sunny, taking the edge off the biting breeze. I’m impressed by Evan’s collection of picnic food - sandwiches, salads and cream cakes bought from the local bakers, still tucked into their paper bags. He sets out two cups and a large bottle of orange juice with his long fingers. All the while I study him; have I underestimated him? He has a blue scarf wrapped around his neck, his long hair touching the edge. His cheeks are pink from the cold and there’s a natural happiness in his face; as if the weight of whatever follows him has gone for today.
“You’re good at this,” I say.
“At what?”
“Picnics. Most guys wouldn’t have any idea - I’d have a bag of crisps and a can of coke.”
His eyebrows dip. “I’ve always liked picnics. I just copy what we used to have when I was a kid.”
“We never really did the whole picnic thing.”
“Then we’ll have to go on plenty to make up for it.”
He passes me a sandwich and the connotation of his words come with the bread. More time together.
“Thanks,” he says, picking up a sandwich of his own.
“For?”
“Agreeing to come out with me. I didn’t want you to think I was one of those guys.”
“I knew what sort of guy you were when I chose to do it, Evan.”
He shakes his head. “Did someone hurt you? In the past? You have a low opinion of me. Of guys.”
I rub my eyes. “No more than usual teen break ups.”
“Maybe part of growing up involves accepting people make mistakes, life is more complicated.”
“That’s very deep.”
“Perhaps I should transfer to Psych.” He smiles, a tug at one corner. “What I mean is, we’re all finding our way. And sometimes we get lost.”
“So you got lost the day you never called me back?”
Pouring a drink into both cups, Evan sips from one. “Yeah, like I said, I fucked up when I didn’t call you so I guess I did. But I’m glad you let me find you again.”
Evan chews on his lip as he looks at me, brown eyes clear. Not turning on seductive charms or trying to impress me. Honesty.
The night I met Evan in the kitchen, the chances of ever being here having an intelligent conversation were zero. The day I slept with him, the idea he’d do more than notch me on his bedpost remained with me. But he’s reaching out to me, connecting with me. And I don’t know why. All relationships are inexplicable, every person we meet fated, but where fate leads I don’t know. My tendency to over think needs tucking away.