‘Hmm.’ She nods with understanding. ‘That’s what you meant on your post-it note, right?’
‘Yeah.’ I sigh. ‘He did at least say we should do something soon. That’s–’
‘Wait, what?’ She sits up straight, her eyes narrowing. ‘Hang on. Whatexactlydid he say?’
‘I don’t know,’ I say with a confused laugh. ‘That we should “definitely do something soon”? I don’t remember.’
‘Oh myGod!Jubilantday!’ she shouts at the sky. She grabs my hand. ‘Oh Nora, my beautiful fool. I thinkthatwashim asking you out.’
I rear back in surprise. ‘No, he wasn’t. I think he meant all of us.’
Her eyes are wide, imploring. ‘I really, really don’t.’
‘Well, what am I supposed to do? Text him and ask, “sorry, Elliot, you know that offhand question you asked about hanging out again, did you mean the group or just you and I?” That’s crackers. He’d block me.’
‘I don’t think it is,’ she says haughtily. ‘Oryou could just ask him out if you’re so unsure.’
A loud laugh erupts from my belly, and I fling the smooth pebble that’s sitting under my thigh into the lake. ‘Yeah, sure. Imagine.’
I watch a young group of friends stroll past the opposite end of the water, two girls sitting on their friends’ shoulders holding their bottles of beer, rapping something together perfectly in sync. The sight makes me smile.
‘I have to be honest, Nora. I know you’ve only known him three days, but it looked like you two really got on. I thought you sort of… I don’t know, really understood each other.’
‘Really?’
‘Yeah, like you’re made of similar stuff.’ She pouts thoughtfully. ‘Like when you have the same ingredients in a bowl but get slightly different cakes out of the oven.’
‘That’s probably true,’ I snort, thinking of our competitiveness and unrelenting stubbornness. Our careful vulnerability and uneasy steps towards each other.
‘Nora, what is it that’s stopping you from asking? Please don’t tell me you think he’s out of your league or something.’
I shake my head, trying to piece together an answer to the question I’ve always avoided. ‘A bit of me does think that, though. I’ve never felt like adesirableperson. Not a trulywant-able orlove-able person. It’s a theory I’ve had that’s been tested over and over again and it’s always been proven correct.’
She points a furious finger at me. ‘Hey,Ifucking love you and you know that.’
‘I know,’ I say gently. ‘I mean in a romantic way, you know? I’ve always felt like there’s some fundamental part of me that’s missing, that everybody else was born with.’ Her expression darkens again at my words. ‘I’ve always felt that way, Hen. I wish I could see things differently, but it’s just – it’s so embedded. And when you’re told for years that you’re heinous to look at, and tormented for just being so…wronglyput together as ahuman, it’s hard to believe any other kind of truth. God knows I don’t look anything like the girls I’m sure Elliot dates.’
‘With your consent, I’m going to start arguing with you now.’
‘Okay. Before you start: I love you, but this isn’t a belief that’s going to just vanish overnight,’ I say. ‘I’ve been working on this for years.’
‘Alright.’ She nods, her eyes skimming across my face. It’s the same watchful expression she has when she thinks I might be about to panic. ‘I have to make it clear anyway that I think you are very wrong about this. You are, and havealwaysbeen beautiful in my eyes. And not just because you’re wonderful and kind and clever and my best friend in the world. You’re beautiful.’ She pulls my hand into hers. ‘Head-to-toebeautiful. I-consider-dyeing-my-hair-red-sometimes-because-of-you beautiful.Genuinelybeautiful.’
Every fibre and shred of my insecurities wants to scream at her that she’s biased, but for once I try to ignore it and just let the words land somewhere near me. My lips twitch into a smile.
‘Harty, why haven’t you talked about this with your therapist?’
Nowthatis an excellent point I can’t argue with. ‘I thought the whole panic thing was more urgent, honestly.’
‘I think it might be time to bring it up with her,’ she says softly.
I nod, because she’s absolutely right. And I know I haven’t discussed it because I don’t want to face the reality of it. The humiliating, ugly truth that I deem myself so deeply unworthy.
‘So, sticking with the current situation at hand, then: you’ve seen pictures of these girls Elliot has dated, allegedly?’
I narrow my eyes, already seeing where this is going. ‘No.’
‘Don’t give me that look.’ She taps my hand gently. ‘I love proving you wrong. It’s my favourite pastime, especially since you’re so smart, it makes me look fantastic.’
