Tommy leant in close, and then it hit me.
The disgust.
A wave of absolute, unbridled disgust.
He was so close I felt like I wanted to scream, I wanted to smash a glass and throw up at the same time. My fists tightened on the arms of my chair and I tried to keep looking at him, keep moving towards him, kiss him, but he was so close to me and it felt horrific, I felt disgusted. I wanted this to end.
‘It’s OK to be nervous,’ he said. ‘It’s kind of cute, actually.’
‘I’m not nervous,’ I said. I was disgusted by the thought of him near me. Wanting things from me. That wasn’t normal, was it?
He put his hand on my thigh.
And that’s when I flinched, shoving his hand away and sending his drink toppling off the side of the chair, and he swung forwards to grab it and fell out of his seat.
Right into the firepit.
There’d been signs. I’d missed all of them because I was desperate to fall in love.
Luke from Year 5 was the first. He did it via a note in my coat pocket during playtime. To Georgia. You’re so beautiful, will you be my girlfriend? Yes [ ] No [ ] From Luke.
I ticked No and he cried all through numeracy.
In Year 6, when all of the girls in my class decided they wanted boyfriends, I felt left out, so asked Luke if he was still up for it, but he was already going out with Ayesha, so he said no. All the new couples played together on the climbing frame during the leavers’ barbecue, and I felt sad and lonely.
Noah from the school bus was the second, in Year 9, although I’m not sure he counts. He asked me out on Valentine’s Day because that was what people did on Valentine’s Day – everybody wanted to be in a couple on Valentine’s Day. Noah scared me because he was loud and enjoyed throwing sandwiches at people, so I just shook my head at him and went back to staring out of the window.
The third was Jian from the boys’ school. Year 11. A lot of people thought he was extremely attractive. We had a long conversation at a house party about whether Love Island was a good show or not, and then he tried to kiss me when everyone was drunk, including both of us. It would have been so easy to go for it.
It would have been so easy to lean in and do it.
But I didn’t want to. I didn’t fancy him.
But the fourth turned out to be Tommy, who I knew from school and who looked like Timothée Chalamet, and I didn’t really know him that well, but this was the time that broke me a little, because I’d thought I really liked him. But I couldn’t do it, because I didn’t fancy him.
My seven-year crush on him was entirely fabricated.
A random choice from when I was eleven, and a girl held up a photo and told me to choose a boy.
I didn’t fancy Tommy.
Apparently, I hadn’t ever fancied anyone.
I screamed. Tommy screamed. His entire arm was on fire.
He rolled over and suddenly Pip flew out of nowhere, grabbing a blanket, and falling straight on top of Tommy, stifling the flames while Tommy was saying, ‘Holy shit, holy shit,’ over and over and I was just standing over him, watching him burn.
The first thing I felt was shock. I felt frozen. Like this wasn’t really happening.
The second thing I felt was anger about my jacket.
That was my favourite fucking jacket.
I should never have given it to some boy I barely knew. Some boy I didn’t even like.
Jason was there too, asking Tommy if he was hurt, but he was sitting up and shaking his head, pulling off the ruins of my favourite jacket, looking at his unscathed arm and saying, ‘What the fuck?’ And then he stared up at me and said it again. ‘What the fuck?’
I looked down at this person I had picked at random from a photo and said, ‘I don’t like you like that. I’m really sorry. You’re nice, but I just – I don’t like you like that.’
Jason and Pip both turned to me in unison. A little crowd was starting to form, our classmates wandering outside to see what the commotion was about.
‘What the fuck?’ said Tommy a third time, before he was swarmed by his friends, coming to see if he was OK.
I was just staring at him thinking, that was my fucking jacket and seven years and I never liked you at all.
‘Georgia,’ said Pip. She was next to me, pulling on my arm. ‘I think it’s time to go home.’
‘I never liked him,’ I said in the car as we pulled up outside Pip’s house and I cut the engine. Pip was next to me. Jason was in the back. ‘Seven years and I just lied to myself the whole time.’
They were both being weirdly silent. Like they didn’t know what to say. In a horrible way, I almost blamed them. Pip, anyway. She’d been the one pushing me to do this. She’d been teasing me about Tommy for seven years.
No, that was unfair. This wasn’t her fault.
‘This is my fault,’ I said.
‘I don’t understand,’ said Pip, gesturing wildly. She was still fairly tipsy. ‘You … you’ve had a crush on him for years.’ Her voice got quieter. ‘This was your … your big chance.’
I started laughing.
It’s wild how long you can trick yourself. And everyone around you.
The door to Pip’s house opened, revealing her parents in matching dressing gowns. Manuel and Carolina Quintana were just another of the perfectly-in-love, incredibly-romantic-backstory couples I knew. Carolina, who’d grown up in Popayán, Colombia, and Manuel, who’d grown up in London, met when Manuel went to visit his dying grandma in Popayán when he was seventeen. Carolina was literally the girl next door, and the rest was history. These things just happened.
‘I’ve never had a crush on anyone in my entire life,’ I said. It was all sinking in. I’d never had a crush on anyone. No boys, no girls, not a single person I had ever met. What did that mean? Did it mean anything? Or was I just doing life wrong? Was there something wrong with me? ‘Can you believe that?’
There was a pause again, before Pip said, ‘Well, s’fine. S’fine, man.
