‘Oh, is this… Mae?’
‘Who?’ The woman put a hand over the receiver, but Callie still heard her say, ‘It’s not Deliveroo, it’s a wrong number. I swear, if that curry is cold, I’m going on thewarpath.’
Callie hung up. Shit. She didn’t have the recent number. Obviously, she could ask Neil…
Why was that so embarrassing to ask? Why was it so embarrassing to say, ‘No, I don’t have my oldest friend’s number anymore?’
But it was. Callie would rather the alternative. Maybe it was better. You couldn’t hang up on a visitor.
***
The night air slapped Callie’s cheeks the moment she stepped outside. The village was quiet, lamplit and still. She could remember that feeling so well, this deadness to the place.
She walked fast, hands shoved into her pockets, rehearsing half a dozen versions of what she might say. All thin.
The bakery appeared at the end of the street, dark below, warm light spilling from the upstairs window. Mae’s flat. Mae and her dad’s once.
Callie climbed the narrow outside stairs, dread filling her. At the top, she lifted her hand and then lowered it again.
Callie hated this. She hated how nervous she felt. But if she didn’t do this, the whole production would fall apart.
So she knocked softly. But nothing happened, so she wrapped a bit harder. The sound echoed down the quiet street. Callie held her breath and waited.
Back Then
Callie did not sleep.
She tried. At least twice, she turned off the bedside lamp and made a token effort, eyes jammed shut, counting backwards from a hundred. By ninety-three, she was replaying the momentin the bakery when Mae’s mouth had met hers, familiar hands reaching for unfamiliar places…
Okay, no more counting.
It wasn’t just the kissing. Although, God. Thekissing. Callie had been waiting for a kiss like that her whole life. And she’d had some epic snogs in her time. Well, she’dthoughtshe had.
But the grade curve had shifted significantly now.
This wasn’t Callie. She didn’t do staying up all night worrying about someone else’s feelings. But now here she was, horribly conscious at four in the morning, trying to work out how not to ruin the most important thing in her life.
Mae had kissed her. That was yes to something, Callie thought. Hoped. But she knew she was on probation.
She deserved that. She’d been romantically flighty since puberty, and no one knew that better than Mae. Callie would have to be someone she’d never quite been before to make Mae know how serious Callie was, how in love with her.
And she was. She really was. It was all over as far as denial was concerned. She was in deep. Up to her tits in something terrifying and beautiful. Mae. She was it for Callie now. The centre of the universe. Just as she’d always been. But with, potentially, a lot more touching and maybe some new titles.
Callie felt a sweat break out on her neck.
Her phone buzzed. Who the hell would be texting her at… Oh, it was morning.
For a wild second, she thought it might be Mae. Telling her last night was a mad moment, and she didn’t want to talk about it ever again, and while she was at it, she would actually rather never see her again, and if she bumped into her in the village, she was just gonna pretend Callie didn’t…
It was something else, though.
EMMA: Hey. I hope we can see each other again soon, but if not, that’s okay x
Callie let her head fall back into the pillow with a groan. She’d failed to factor Emma into her life rebrand.
She stared at the message. It was horribly kind.
You’re going to have to tell her, said a voice in her head. She didn’t recognise it. Who was this voice? Why, it was Romantically Adult Callie! This is what she sounded like.
