‘Yes, Ham,’ Elliot says obediently.
‘And look after our son,’ I add, giving him a nudge. ‘I really hope Max loves it.’
‘He will,’ he says firmly.
‘See you soon.’ I try to make it a statement rather than a question.
He nods, returning my hesitant smile.
Maybe a future version of myself might be more honest: a bolder, shameless Nora with the kind of self-belief I have always craved. Perhaps she might be the one to say:I think I’m crazy about you. Orlet’s grab a drink.Just you and me.
For the first time, the idea of meeting that person who must be lurking somewhere inside me doesn’t seem so impossible.
But for now, those blue eyes fill me with nothing but terror, so I watch him walk away.
‘Come on, slackers! If we miss Cherry Wave, I will die!’ Josh shouts.
‘I thought we were stopping the dramatics, Ham,’ Owen says.
‘That’s nothing but truth, Owen,’ Josh drawls.
The boys eye the drumstick in Elliot’s grasp with surprise as he rejoins them, but don’t mention it as they make their way up the footpath back into the festival. Owen eyes me over his shoulder with concern as I force my brightest smile.
‘See you! Be safe!’ Josh yells as Owen waves farewell. Elliot just shoots me one last smile: the soft, tender one that usually stops my brain from functioning altogether, as I now know all too well.
They vanish from sight and I bite my lip, finally feeling the disappointment collide with my gut. Disappointment in myself, and with everything that led to me being this way. And, as always, Hennie’s hand finds mine.
39
We walk through The Lakes area arm in arm until we slump down on a small jetty over the water to take a breath.
And the words tumble out of me: my sudden, unwelcome feelings for Elliot, our late night confessions, our stilted and strange goodbye. Hennie soaks in all my words, toying with the edge of my jacket sleeve silently.
She sighs after my outburst and puts a steadying hand on my knee.
‘Good grief, babe,’ she breathes.
I wheeze with a hearty laugh, and let my head fall onto her shoulder.
‘What an eventful weekend,’ she says with a snort of laughter. Her voice is lower and grittier than usual from the late nights.
‘And yet, everything has remained the same,’ I say, gesturing at myself - at my lack of confidence, my lack of drumstick.
I feel her head turning, prompting me to sit up. She considers me for a moment, her brows creasing together.
‘You’ve arranged to see Owen soon?’ I ask eagerly, interrupting her thoughts.
She nods, a smile illuminating her face. ‘Yeah, there’s an artist he loves who’s doing a show in Brighton in October, so he’s coming down.’
‘Oh,really?’ I lean closer to her, seeking out any hidden truths in this admission. ‘That will be fun.’
‘Yes, it will,’ she says evenly. ‘Don’t you give me those eyes, we reallyarejust friends.’
I lean back again as I wipe my face clean, a picture of innocence. ‘Okay.’
‘I’m just baffled Elliot didn’t ask you out,’ she ponders. ‘I really thought he would.’
The idea is laughable, but I just shrug my shoulders. ‘Maybe there’ll be another boy.’
