Things I Know About Love (8 page)

I was too tired to laugh. I gave him a weak smile.

“You want to go home, don’t you?” Adam said.

“No,” I said. “Of course not. I’m just tired.”

“Well, anyway, let’s get you home,” he said. “We’ll come back again soon. This is turning into quite a long breakfast date. You could sue me under the Trade Descriptions Act.”

“It’s lucky I refused to sign anything, then,” I said. And I chickened out of telling him. We had just missed the train when we got to the station, and as we waited for the next one, we seemed really to have finally run out of things to say, and my head felt too woolly and tired to do any better. Finally we boarded, and I took out my lovely Cocktail Time set and we talked about that for a while until, lulled by the steady rattle and gentle rocking motion of the train, I silently leaned against him, and he put his arm around me and, nearer to Princeton, when the carriage emptied, we kissed and kissed. We didn’t get back until after nine. He walked me home in the opposite direction to the evening’s lilac sunset, and I said he ought to come in and say hi to Jeff.

I opened the door with the spare keys Jeff had given me, and when we got inside, we were more than a bit surprised to see Jeff and Krystina snogging on the sofa.

THANK GOD for the train ride home. At that point, I was seriously worried. For most of the day, I’d been doing very well. I mean, really, you should have seen me. I made a couple of okay jokes, she seemed to like the flea market, I took her to look at shoes…but at some point in the day I might have actually bored her to death. But then she was opening up her game on the train, and getting excited about it in that ridiculously cute way of hers, and it happened.

I am besotted with Livia Stowe.

“My brother
was really into you, you know,” Krystina said, mock-scoldingly. “I didn’t know you were already interested in someone else.” I say
mock
, but I wasn’t sure there wasn’t a bit of spikiness hiding under her smooth, teasing voice.

“That’s not true,” I protested. “About him being into me, I mean. He didn’t really have any time to get to know me.”

“Well, you’re very cute. You could have told me you were serious about Adam earlier. You knew, didn’t you?”

“Sort of, yes, but I didn’t know I stood a chance with him.”

I looked up at her to see if she was really angry about all of this. Krystina rolled her eyes.

“Oh, come on. Anyway, I forgive you, and besides, both of us dating the other’s sibling would have been
too weird
. And I’m very crazy about your gorgeous, annoying brother.”

“Now
that
I still can’t believe,” I said. “He’s been mad about you since he met you.”

“I just didn’t know I stood a chance with him,” she said, and gave me a pointed look. Well, sure, it sounded crazy when
she
said it. But you should see her.

We were sunbathing on one of the grassy squares between the college buildings. I say
we —
Krys was lying there in a crocheted red bikini top and short blue shorts looking like Wonder Woman, baking herself a deeper shade of honey, sitting up now and again to tell me off, while I was smothered in SPF50, with a sun hat, sunglasses, and a lot of cotton clothing. Ginger hair, you know the score.

I’ve been missing my friends from back home.

Not because I’m unhappy—the opposite. I want them to associate me with good news, too. You know how I’d been worrying about having lost out on some of the closeness they shared, because of my illness? Before I came to Princeton, I’d been feeling more and more as if I was living in a different time from them, as if I’d been held back a few years—which in many ways I had. When they talked about nightclubs, I’d think, “You go to
nightclubs
? What are you,
women
?” and then remember that we all sort of are. They’d been there for me when I broke up with Luke, but that had been the last time since my illness that I’d had anything different to talk about, and it was all a long time ago. They’d given me lots of support and reassurance and I’d felt loved and supported, but the news, as it always was with me, had all been bad.

I do constantly worry about how to tell Adam the things he doesn’t know, and what to tell Adam, and what I’ll do if it makes him see me another way. It’s too soon for me to be scared about this…and yet, I know that what I feel for Adam is the most exhilarating and amazing thing I’ve ever felt. I remember being happy in the early days with Luke, but this is different. I don’t feel insecure this time. I don’t have reservations about
him
, the way I did with Luke—Luke was always addictively attractive, but he was also nasty about my friends, and the way he joked with me often went beyond the point where it still seemed like a joke. I found myself making a lot of excuses for him and keeping a lot of things a secret. It’s as if I’m only just noticing this now, but I always thought it and didn’t dare think
about
it. Right from the start there were moments when I just didn’t even
like
him.

I know lots of girls say “but this is different” before they get their hearts broken, again. But this is
nothing
like my last relationship. There is nothing I don’t love about Adam. Just in little ways: the way he talks about his brother and how much he cares about him—and understands how I feel about mine. The way he looked at my sandals and worried that my feet might start to hurt. The way he took me to the shops he thought I’d love—and got it right. Luke used to drag me round endless record shops to show me bands I’d never heard of because he said I had terrible taste and I needed to be told what was good.

In big ways, there’s no comparison. Adam’s type of funny isn’t mean or biting. His dark brown eyes are kind. He’s quicker to get what I’m talking about, maybe because he’s cleverer, maybe because we’re more like each other, or maybe just because he’s more interested and
wants
to understand. He thinks I’m funny. And this might sound hopelessly girly and lame and gullible (those are Luke words, that’s what he’d say) but it was
really
nice when Adam told me I was beautiful. Because I’m so obviously not! I’m a mess. I have stupid hair and I’m pale and freckly and my nose is too fat and my eyelashes are white and my thighs are too big and my knees hit each other when I walk and oh God let’s not go into all the other stuff…and
he thinks I’m beautiful.

Comparing them is all wrong, because it makes it sound as if I’m not properly over Luke, as if he’s still on my mind. When I think of Luke now, though, I don’t feel anything—not bitter, not empty, just like clouds floating on a soft summer’s day, lying in a field feeling light-headed and careless. The thought of him making me as sad as he did seems
insane
. If I think of him at all, it’s just to think, what the hell was I
doing
with him? I’m proud of Adam. He can meet my friends and I can relax. I won’t worry about him being sullen and sneering and saying the wrong thing and I don’t have to dread hearing what he’s saved up to tell me later. And yeah, this feeling is why I’m craving my friends’ company. Because I’m happy, and I want them to know me happy!

The mad sequence of events from the previous couple of days had jolted my friendship with Krystina and, as we were sunbathing together, I could sense there’d been a change between us. She’s now my brother’s girlfriend—which means I’ll see more of her, but I won’t be the person she’s coming to see anymore. We have to like each other for his sake, as well as our own. This is going to sound nuts, but whereas our friendship was natural and easy from the moment we met, now I’m saying things and thinking,
I hope I don’t make Jeff sound bad
, and
I hope she doesn’t think our family is awful
. There had been a kind of subtle pressure for me to get on with her brother, and that pressure has been completely removed now that I’ve been spending time with Adam. But all the same, I’m worrying more and more about Kyle turning up, just because I think it would be embarrassing. And now that I see
even more
of Krystina, because of Jeff, there’s
even more
chance of running into Kyle again. Ack, what a mess!

“By the way, there’s a party on Saturday,” Krystina said. “I thought we could all go?”

“Oh, er…what did you have in mind?” I said. Could I still bring Adam or was she too cross about the fact that I’d secretly started seeing him without telling her?

“It’s like a big communal party—a lot of the guys in Butler are planning to open up their apartments and set it all up in the spaces between them, play some music, have some fun….”

The Butler Apartments are a little village of “temporary” student houses, except Krystina says they’ve been there about fifty years. Jeff had told me they were full of graduate students, i.e., older than all of us, and a lot older than me. I was quite apprehensive.

“But would they mind if we turned up uninvited—me and, er…Jeff and…”

“No, of course not! Well, ask Adam if he wants to go when you next see him.”

I met Adam later for lunch at a sushi bar. Out of nowhere, when I saw him standing outside, waiting for me, I felt a stab of fear that made me want to run away. Yesterday in New York had been so perfect, but what if it had meant more to me than him? It was possible that everything I’d thought about since yesterday, all the daydreams of him meeting my friends, that it was all me getting carried away, summer madness. Holiday romance. Maybe it hadn’t been the same for him. Maybe he hadn’t even pretended it had, and I’d only heard what I wanted to hear. In this moment, when I was a few seconds away from finding out how he’d start talking to me today, and whether everything would be fine, I suddenly felt cold and alone. I wanted a backup plan and more time to make sure of what I’d been feeling all morning. I wanted the confidence back. Adam just smiled his little half-smile and didn’t say anything at first. He came up to me and held out his hand, and when I took it, he kissed me…just a tiny kiss, but somehow it said what I needed to hear. And everything was okay.

“You look really pretty,” he said, and touched my back lightly as he let me go into the sushi bar in front of him.

The Japanese owner of the bar was comically bossy and made fun of our English accents.

“You’re English, yes? I bet you like your sushi cooked well done,” he said, and laughed loudly. “Maybe you’d like it boiled?” His chef, who was slicing the salmon, rolled his eyes and grinned at us.

“Krystina’s asked us if we fancy going to a party tomorrow at the Butler Apartments,” I said to Adam, snapping my chopsticks in two. “What do you think?”

“Well, yeah, those parties are supposed to be great fun,” Adam said, nodding. “But I won’t know many people there. Would Jeff be going?”

“Yeah.”

“We could have a good time, then,” Adam said. “And I’m free and I’d like to see you, so yes.” I realized that I was almost disappointed, because it would mean an evening out with him that wasn’t really all about us, that we couldn’t make up as we went along. Adam looked at me. “What’s up? Don’t you want to go?”

“I’m not so great at parties when I don’t know many people there.”

“You don’t have to be great at parties. You’ll know me and Jeff. And Krystina. I’m sure Kyle’ll pop up, and he’s a laugh a minute.”

I hit his arm with the back of my hand. “Oi.”

“We don’t have to go,” Adam said. “I said yes because I thought it was what you wanted. But I don’t mind either way. If you’d prefer, you and I can sit outside on Dougie’s balcony and watch for shooting stars.” As soon as he’d said it, I knew that was what I wanted to do. “Let’s go,” Adam said, apparently not reading my mind at all. “You need to know that parties aren’t scary. It’ll be fun.”

It’s two
weeks today since I came to America, and less than two weeks till I go, again. Adam just walked me home, and Jeff is asleep. I don’t know what happened to him after we left the party. I texted him to let him know I was going to stay over at Adam’s brother’s apartment, and he just texted back,
OK
. That is an awkward text to have to send to your brother. You have to keep it short. You can’t send something like:
THAT DOESN’T MEAN ADAM AND I ARE GOING TO DO ANYTHING, YOU KNOW, WELL EVEN I DON’T KNOW BUT WELL OBVIOUSLY WE’RE GOING TO DO SOMETHING BUT NOT WHAT YOU THINK BECAUSE I’M DEFINITELY NOT READY FOR THAT YET BUT DON’T THINK ABOUT IT TOO MUCH EVEN THOUGH I AM
.

Yesterday was another soft, balmy night, and Krystina, Jeff, Adam, and I walked to the Butler party together. A few of the little aluminum apartments were completely open, and people were going in and out. There was dance music blaring out of a big sound system. In one apartment, the bathtub was full of ice, and there were drinks sticking out of it—mostly beers, some sodas. We ran into Kyle by the Coke machine; he was rocking it from side to side and laughing, and it wasn’t clear whether he was trying to claim a legal bottle of Sprite or thought he’d worked out a way of stealing from it. I was actually pleased to see someone I knew because there were a lot of older people I
didn’t
know wandering around and I’d felt out of place since I got there and knew I didn’t want to stay. We would have gone earlier, but it became clear pretty soon on that Jeff might be bit stranded if we did.

The first thing that happened was that Krystina started dancing, and Jeff has never been much of a dancer, so he stayed with me and Adam—we stood in a line talking about the music and watching her. At the beginning she pulled me over with her by my wrists, but no one else was really dancing, although a couple of girls in groups were standing around sort of moving to the music. I felt very stupid—I was one of the youngest people here, and dancing seemed to draw attention to that. I retreated to Adam and Jeff, and Krystina came to pull me back again, but I smiled and shook my head, knotting my arm with Adam’s. She went back to dancing, losing herself in the music, her hands winding imaginary ribbons above her head, her eyes half-closed. We stayed with Jeff, but there was something about this that seemed wrong and made me feel bad for him. A boy I’d never seen before, indie-kid looks—dyed black hair, a silver spike piercing just under his lower lip, and a few heavy silver chains around his wrist—but very attractive, started dancing with her.

I could hear Krystina shouting to him over the music, “Trey! Have you got some of
your
music? Can they put on some of
your
music, Trey?”

The boy felt in his pockets and shook his head.

“Oh, yeah, that’s got to be Trey,” Jeff said, nodding. “He’s the singer in a band she likes—the Psycho Rats.”

“Are they any good?” Adam asked, kind of just for something to say. Jeff shrugged.

Trey was holding Krystina loosely around the waist. I glanced anxiously at Jeff. I also couldn’t think of anything to say.

“So, Jeff,” I said, before I’d decided what would come next, then I just said the first thing that came into my head: “Do you think there’s somewhere I could sit down for a bit?” It was totally the wrong thing to say, because Jeff is always completely over the top with worrying about me if I so much as cough or admit that I’m even slightly tired.

“Let’s find a quiet spot,” he said.

Adam and I followed him to a grassy square behind the apartments where the music was muted. It had been so loud a minute before that I had a steady rough hiss in my ears now that it had stopped. We sat on the grass and Jeff gave me a bottle of water. “Are you okay?” he asked.

I nodded. I was thinking,
Stop, Jeff! Don’t say something crazy and concerned, something that will make Adam ask questions. Stop looking so worried about me.

“I think we might head off soon,” Adam said. He looked at me. “You think?”

“Yeah,” I said. I really wanted to go, but I didn’t want to leave my brother behind.

Adam and I looked at each other, then he turned to Jeff. “Do you wanna come with us?” I felt so embarrassed, not really understanding what everyone was feeling right now.

“No, I’m sticking around,” Jeff said, with a forced breeziness. “But yeah, you two go, that’s smart. I’ll let Krys know. I’ve got my phone, Liv. Call me if you need me—it doesn’t matter what time it is.”

I felt for my phone and took it out of my bag to show Jeff, even though he hadn’t asked to see it. “Yep, I will,” I said brightly.

“Are you okay?” Jeff asked again.

“I’m great!”

“Okay, you want to keep going through there, that’ll get you back on the road,” Jeff said, pointing the way home. We all stood up untidily, and I brushed a little dried mud off the back of Jeff’s elbow. “Look after yourselves.” Then Jeff headed back to the party.

“Maybe I should stay with him,” I said to Adam.

“No,” Adam said.

“But he was on his own.”

“She won’t dance all night.”

“Yeah, but, it just seemed like…”

“I don’t know Jeff the way you do, but I know blokes pretty well,” Adam said. “If he and Krystina are having some kind of…anything…he’s going to be really embarrassed having his little sister around to see it.”

“But we’re not really just brother and sister, we’re more like mates,” I said.

“It doesn’t really work like that,” Adam said. “Your sister’s your sister. I’m not saying you’re not as close as friends, it’s better than that. But there are things you don’t want your sister around for, even when you’re close to her.”

“What do you mean, ‘things’?” I asked. “What do you think’s going on?”

“Nothing. I don’t know anything about it—whether it’s nothing or not nothing—I just think we should leave them to it.”

“What is this ‘it’ you keep talking about? How can ‘it’ be nothing? You seem to know what ‘it’ it is you’re talking about.”

Adam chuckled.

“Do I sound crazy?” I said.

“A
tiny
bit,” he said, putting his finger and thumb a centimeter apart.

“I’m just worried,” I said, finally smiling and bumping him with my shoulder.

Adam turned and leaned down to kiss me without holding me. I kissed him back, and we were just reaching towards each other, our lips together. It was a pretty way to kiss, although part of me was hoping he’d scoop my waist towards him and crush me with his arms.

“So let’s go,” I said.

“Back to yours?”

“What about that alternative plan you mentioned yesterday, your brother’s balcony? The shooting stars?” I said. “Unless he’s using it?”

“No, he’s in Philadelphia tonight,” Adam said. “Seeing his new girlfriend.” He paused. “Does that change things? I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“No, it doesn’t,” I said. But his question, even though it hadn’t sounded creepy at all, had thrown up a load of all-new fears for me.

They were:

“What are you thinking?” Adam said.