I felt like smiling so hard my face would fall apart.
I also didn’t trust it.
This was a good thing. Good things didn’t happen. Not to me, never to me.
“You do?” I asked, not trusting, not believing.
He picked up my hand so our fingers were entwined.
“I’ve wanted to kiss you since that first night, when I walked you home.”
What? When I was drunk? And complaining? And unfriendly?
“You did?” Not trusting, not believing.
“I thought I was being really obvious.” He clenched my hand tight. His fingers felt so right in mine, and yet none of it made any sense.
“But…you…” And it tumbled out. “You got with Melody.”
He opened his mouth, surprised I’d said it. Surprised I knew maybe. He let go of me and sighed.
I knew it was true then, my worst suspicions, made true. I felt sick. All the good from the kiss evaporated, like the mist coming off the waterfall.
“I only kissed Melody because…” He paused. “Because, well, I’m not sure, I just do what I’m expected to do. I told you… It didn’t mean anything.”
I moved away a little, making the gap between us wider.
“What do you mean? You’re expected to?”
He threw his hands up. “I was trying to tell you earlier. I’m boring, I’m obvious. Everyone sees me and expects me to behave a certain way, and I just, I don’t know, go along with it sometimes. Because I’m not sure what else to do.”
I shook my head.
“Be yourself, perhaps?”
“I don’t know who myself is. I’m so dull. I’m just, like, the most obvious person who does the most obvious things.” He picked up a small rock and threw it across the lake. Even in my emotional state, I had to stop and pause a moment and appreciate just how far he’d thrown the rock.
“You’re not saying anything,” he said.
I picked at nothing on the rock face below me. “I don’t do talking about emotions very well, remember? British? Repressed?”
He smiled at that, but it was a small one.
“You’re so not repressed at all. That’s what I like about you. You’re all fire and passion. You really care about stuff, you really do stuff. Like you came out here for a whole summer, to a new country, and you don’t even know anyone? I’ve never even left America. I don’t even have a passport. And you, you’re always making comments, but in a good way, you don’t just let things pass. You’re just…you… You can’t be anyone other than you. And I really like the you you are, Amber.”
We were kissing again. Rougher. I couldn’t work out what was happening. It felt so so nice, but he’d kissed Melody… Had he kissed her like this? Why would he kiss someone he didn’t even like that much?
I remembered Mum’s words: Every girl feels they have a connection with Kyle…
I broke off again.
“What is it?”
“I’m just…confused,” I said. “About the Melody thing.”
“I told you, I wasn’t thinking. I just did it!”
“I get that. But I don’t just kiss people. I’ve never just kissed someone. I don’t understand. Plus, won’t Melody be hurt by this?” It’s weird, how I was suddenly on Melody’s side. Maybe that’s what girls need in order to like each other – a guy in common to confuse us and make us turn all solidarity. “I mean, what if you kiss someone else next week?”
“I won’t, I really won’t.”
“I don’t even know you,” I said.
The moment the words came out of my mouth, I knew they were true.
I didn’t know him, not at all.
I didn’t know what he liked, what he didn’t. I hardly knew anything about his family. He’d asked me about myself loads, but never really revealed much of him. He was just a great guy, a nice-looking guy, a smart guy. But what else? What did I really like about him? What he stood for? As a Prom King, a basketball player? Was I just into the idea of him? Also, I was only here a few more weeks. Would I ever get to know him? There wasn’t any time to…
I stood up, just for wanting something to do. It was already busier. Tourists streamed up the last staircase, loads in anoraks, some with special walking sticks – all with cameras. A queue had already formed to get your photo taken at the top of the waterfall. They’d finally caught us up.
Kyle stood up too.
“Amber?”
“I don’t know what to do.” It was true.
“Be with me,” he said, simply, clasping at my hand. The words melted in the hot air around me. A boy was standing on top of a waterfall, saying he wanted to be with me… Why was I closing him off?
“I don’t know who you are.”
I watched my words break him. His gorgeous face fell, his smile disintegrated. Yet I kept on talking. It was true, I had no idea who he was – not really. “I live in England. You kissed Melody.” They both seemed equally important. “I guess I’m just shocked.”
“Shocked?”
“I didn’t see any of this coming,” I said.
He went to take my hand again but didn’t.
“How could you not?”
He asked it so genuinely and I didn’t have the answer. It hadn’t really occurred to me that Kyle would like me, not really. Yeah, I’d fantasized about it – got confused by his signs, maybe entertained the thought – but that’s different from believing it. I was struggling to take in how everything had changed so quickly. My brain was in full-on compute mode, trying to slot everything into place like a jigsaw, but none of the pieces fitted together.
Why would he like me anyway?
Why did he get with Melody?
What did I do now?
Would it just be a summer thing?
Is this real?
And why the hell did he get with Melody?
“I thought maybe I was a charity project…”
It was hard to talk about my feelings. I’d never known how unnaturally it came until I’d come here, to this strange country, where they talk the same language but vomit up so many honest feelings all day that it was a totally different tongue. The other day Whinnie had asked Russ, “Good morning, all good with you?” And rather than answering like every British person would – “Fine, how are you?” – even if half your leg had come off in the night and you were oozing blood all over the floor… No, Russ answered honestly. “I slept like crap. My back hurts, I think I pulled it.” And Whinnie didn’t look at him like he was breaking a secret code or something, like you would in England.
Kyle pulled a face.
“Why would you be a charity project?” he asked.
“Because of my mum. Because I’m in a new country. Because I would never in a million years ever be Homecoming Queen.”
Kyle made this grunt of anger and stepped away from me. “Have you not been listening? I really, really like you, Amber. I love that you’d never be Homecoming Queen. I love that you’d never want to be Homecoming Queen…”
Well that wasn’t true. Every girl, secretly, wanted to be Homecoming Queen. Even if we didn’t even have them at home.
“Don’t you hear what I’m saying, none of it means anything? I hate that I live a life that doesn’t mean anything. But this –” he took my hand – “my feelings for you mean something. I know we’ve only known each other a few weeks but, like I said…straight away, on that first night…I just needed to know you.”
My hand glowed hot at his touch, like it was agreeing with him.
I laughed. I don’t know why.
“This is all very dramatic,” I said, trying to break the atmosphere. “Can’t we just go explore the rest of the park or something?”
I was pushing him away. I didn’t know why, but I was pushing him away. Hard.
His eyes dropped to where our hands were entwined. He let go.
“Yeah, sure, whatever.” He faked a laugh. “Sorry, I had it all planned in my head… I didn’t mean to ambush you. I thought…” He trailed off.