My Ten-Year Crush by Olivia Spring

Chapter Seven

Graduation Night: July 2000

It’d been the best day. Mike and I had graduated!

Three years of blood, sweat and tears had finally paid off. Going onstage dressed in our gowns, shaking the dean’s hand and posing for official photos before doing the obligatory hat toss in the air, was so cool.

Even several hours later, it still hadn’t quite sunk in. I was a graduate. Someone who was supposedly ready to go out into the world and start my career. It was exciting and scary all at once.

I had mixed emotions. Happiness and pride for what I’d achieved: a 2:1 with honours in English (of course, Mike had got a first-class degree, like I’d known he would). But I also felt a little bit sad. I’d no longer be spending my days with him. Studying, laughing, joking and hanging out. My stomach plummeted at the thought of it.

We’d already moved out of the house we shared with Melody and Jim, and in a few months, I’d start my teacher training and he’d be—well, who knows? Mike didn’t like thinking too far ahead, so he still hadn’t decided whether to travel or go through with doing his master’s.

But the good news was, we still had a whole summer to enjoy together. I’d been doing lots of extra shifts and saved up a fair bit. I’d also had a brainwave. What if Mike and I took a trip to Bali—together? He’d always wanted to go. I had too. I knew Dad wouldn’t be happy with me flying so far, but what the hell. A trip there with Mike would be worth it.

With its lush landscape of hills and mountains, sandy beaches and idyllic clear waters, it looked like paradise. Mike had a whole mood board with pictures he’d cut out from travel brochures and magazines of all the places he wanted to visit and things he dreamed of doing. It was in the top ten of his bucket list, which I knew Mike was eager to tackle ASAP, and what better time to tick it off than our last summer of freedom before we were thrust into the world of proper adulthood?

I remembered thinking that the only thing that would make the day perfect was if I was brave enough to finally tell Mike how I really felt.

I’d been wanting to do it for weeks. Ever since he had broken up with Rebecca. But I’d decided to wait. I mean, they were always on, then off again, and then back on. Swooping in straight away would be heartless. Even though he said he was fine, it was only natural he’d need some time to get over her. I was definitely over Lance. It’d been three months since he’d dumped me out of the blue, saying that the whole long-distance thing just wasn’t working, so I was single and ready for another relationship.

Mike and I had become even closer those past couple of weeks and I was convinced we’d had a few moments together. I felt it. Right in my gut. We were meant to be. We made each other laugh. We knew each other inside out. We got on like a house on fire and I fancied him like crazy.

Actually, ‘fancying him’ was an understatement. I loved him. Utterly and completely. He was the first thing I thought about when I woke up, then he was on my mind what felt like every second of the day, and I dreamt about him at night. I had it bad.

Was it one-sided? I’d wanted to think it wasn’t. I was sure he had feelings for me too, but Mike was a gentleman. He was probably too worried about overstepping the boundaries by making a move. So I’d promised myself that if it felt like we were having a moment again, I’d act on it. Tell him how I felt.

Easier said than done, though. I’d known that declaring my feelings was a big risk. Huge. Mike was my best friend and his friendship meant everything to me, so the last thing I wanted to do was to mess things up. But at the same time, I recognised that I couldn’t go on like I was. It’d become harder and harder to hide my emotions. I’d wanted to tell him how I felt so many times but just didn’t know how. How did you tell your best friend you were in love with him?

Go for subtle with something like:

Mike. I fancy you. What do you say about being more than friends?

Or full-on declaration:

Mike, I’m madly in love with you. I have been since the first day we met. We belong together.

Hmm. I’d decided that the second option was a definite no-no, but knowing the right words and getting the timing right seemed impossible.

I’d considered doing it before we graduated but thought it best not to, just in case it made things awkward that day. But now, I reasoned, uni was officially over. We were no longer living in the same house or going to the same lessons. It was the ideal time to try. If only I had the guts to—

‘We should toast our success!’ Mike said as he walked into my parents’ living room.

One of Dad’s friends had booked tickets to see a show in central London, followed by a night in a hotel, as an anniversary gift for his wife, but then she’d fallen ill, so he’d asked Dad if he wanted the tickets and accommodation so he could treat Mum instead. Dad was never one to pass up a freebie and quickly accepted. Mum said she felt bad about leaving me on the night of my graduation, but I told her that I was going out with friends anyway and would be fine.

After Mike and I had left Melody, Jim and the others at the bar, I’d just planned to come back on my own, but because it was late, Mike had offered to get the bus home with me. By the time we got here, he was bursting for the loo, so he’d come in and then just kind of ended up staying.

‘I agree!’ I smiled. ‘You can never toast graduating enough!’

‘Exactly. We have to live our lives to the full, Bells. Not everyone gets the chance to. We’re very lucky…’ His voice trailed off, then he spotted the drinks cabinet and perked up. ‘Oooh! Is that where your parents keep the good stuff? I’m sure the booze in that bar was watered down, so it’d be great to get a decent drink.’

Mike and my dad didn’t get on, so Mike had only been here a handful of times. Usually when my dad was out, or in the summer, when he and Mum went on holiday.

‘That’s their dinner party stash, so I’m sure it’s good,’ I said.

Mike opened up the cabinet and pulled out a bottle.

‘Tequila! Yes! This is perfect,’ Mike said, whilst I wondered whether Dad had marked or measured the contents of every bottle so he’d know if anyone drank it. I wouldn’t put it past him. But Mike was right. It was our graduation night. We deserved to enjoy ourselves a little.

‘Confession: I have never had tequila before.’

‘What? You’ve got to be joking. We are going to fix that immediately.’ Mike strode into the kitchen and opened the fridge.

‘What are you looking for?’

‘Found one!’ He’d plucked out a lemon, took a knife from the block and cut it into wedges. After putting it on a saucer, he grabbed the salt that was on the counter, took my hand and led me back into the living room. ‘Ready to pop your tequila cherry?’

‘Put so elegantly…’ I said.

‘This is a big moment. You never forget your first taste of tequila. Mine was on my last holiday with my best friends from college when I was seventeen, just a few months before… the… anyway… lick your hand,’ he commanded.

‘What? That’s gross.’

‘You’ve led such a sheltered life, Bells. Come on.’ He licked his own hand, and the sight of his tongue made my body tingle. At that moment, all I was thinking about was how good it would feel to have it roam all over me. But I told myself to focus. It wasn’t the time. I was sure I’d know it when it was.

That was when I decided that maybe the tequila wasn’t a bad idea after all. It would help me relax more and maybe even give me some Dutch courage…

I tried to make adding saliva to my hand look seductive like Mike had, but failed miserably. I was rubbish at flirting.

He took my damp hand, sending shockwaves through me, sprinkled salt over it, then poured tequila into two shot glasses and put them on the coffee table.

‘So when you’re ready, you need to lick the salt off your hand, drink the tequila quickly, then bite and suck the lemon straight away. Got it?’

‘Okay,’ I replied. ‘But you go first.’

I watched as Mike made light work of downing the shot. If I was with anyone else, I probably wouldn’t have admitted that I’d reached the age of twenty-one without trying tequila. Most of my peers had experimented with every type of alcohol available and a lot more, so they’d probably laugh. But I could be myself around Mike. He never judged me.

I was always nervous about being too adventurous with alcohol. Before I’d gone to uni, I’d never really drunk that much. Maybe a glass of wine for special occasions with my parents or a Bacardi Breezer if I was out with my friends, but never more than one bottle. I usually just opted for a Diet Coke.

There was no denying it. I was a lightweight. A few sips of anything remotely alcoholic and my mind went all wobbly. Plus I didn’t really like feeling out of control. It just always seemed safer to stay sober so I could remember what I’d said or done the night before, rather than hiding my head in my hands as someone recounted cringeworthy stories of me dancing on tables or doing something embarrassing.

Tonight, though, I told myself that I’d try living a little. Yep, that about summed me up. Drinking a tequila shot was my idea of living life on the edge. Jesus. No wonder some of my friends called me Grandma…

I winced once as I licked the salt off my hands, then again when I downed the shot, and grimaced repeatedly as I sucked on the lemon.

‘Why?!’ I stuck my tongue out in disgust. ‘Why would anyone do this to themselves voluntarily? It tastes awful!’

‘I thought it tasted pretty good, actually. This is quality tequila. You should taste the one at the student union bar. That could strip paint off the walls.’

‘Sounds like I had a lucky escape.’

‘I think you’ll like the second shot better.’

‘Second?’

‘Yeah. You didn’t think you were just having one, did you?’

‘Well, yeah…’

‘Don’t worry, Bells. Just because I’m having more shots doesn’t mean you have to. If you don’t fancy drinking, just have a Coke or water—it’s up to you.’

That was Mike all over. Always wanting to make me feel comfortable.

‘Screw it!’ I said, deciding to loosen up. The tequila had already started to hit my bloodstream. ‘We’re celebrating. I will have another!’

How bad could it really be? I didn’t have to worry about passing out drunk in a bar or how I was getting home. I was with Mike. Despite what my dad thought of him, I knew I was completely safe.

As the night went on and more shots were consumed, more of my inhibitions evaporated.

‘So are you and Rebecca definitely over now?’ The words flew out of my mouth before I could stop them. I didn’t know what I was thinking. Correction. I knew exactly what I was thinking. I was checking whether the coast was clear. Whether I should test the waters and see if Mike was interested. I probably wouldn’t have the guts to go through with anything, but I reasoned doing a little research wouldn’t hurt…

‘We are done. Over. I am single and ready to mingle!’ he shouted emphatically. Which I thought probably meant he was lining up a new woman for every night of the week. That was what normally happened when he broke up with Rebecca. He’d mope for several days, then go on a booty-call binge-fest. Then again, this time round, he hadn’t brought anyone home. ‘What about you? Think you’ll patch things up with Lance?’

‘No way.’ I shook my head.

‘His loss. I’m surprised you haven’t been snapped up already.’

‘Ha!’ I laughed. ‘Most guys just think I’m boring and too sensible,’ I blurted out. I was so annoyed at myself. I was supposed to be convincing Mike that I was a catch, not reminding him why all my relationships ended with me getting dumped.

‘You’re not boring!’ Mike frowned. ‘You’re smart and funny and beautiful…’ He shuffled up closer to me on the sofa and brushed a stray curl off my face. Feeling the heat from his fingers was like being struck by lightning.

Mike called me beautiful. And smart. And funny. My mind went crazy and my body fizzed with excitement.

I looked into his dark eyes and thought he was the most perfect man I’d ever laid eyes on.

‘Thanks.’ I blushed. ‘But it’s not true.’

‘It is. Any guy would be lucky to be with you.’

‘I don’t just want anyguy, though. There’s only one man I’m interested in.’

I’d put my foot in my mouth again. At first I wasn’t sure that I should have said that, but I then told myself it was okay. After all, it didn’t have to mean anyone specific…

‘Oh really…?’ Mike edged closer. ‘And do I know this guy?’

‘You do…’

Mike held eye contact with me. His face was just inches away from mine. All it would take was for one of us to lean forward and our lips would be touching. I felt the sparks of electricity firing between us. This is it, I thought. I should tell him. This was the moment I’d been dreaming about for three years. The timing was perfect.

He’d just complimented me. We were both unattached. He’d confirmed that things were definitely over with Rebecca and there was no one else on the scene. We didn’t have to worry about exams or dissertations or deadlines. We were free. To be together. After years of fantasising and dreaming about him, it was finally going to happen.

‘Who is he?’ Mike smirked, moving forward another inch.

That was the closest we’d ever been. I could smell his favourite body spray, mixed with the sweet scent of the lemon he’d just sucked on.

Mmm. Those lips. All I’d have to do is move a few millimetres and they could be all over me.

It was now or never.

I lurched forward and planted my lips on his.

Our mouths collided and before I knew it he’d gently slid his tongue inside.

Oh. My. God.

It was finally happening.

I was kissing Mike Jones! The man I’d been in love with what felt like forever. And it was even more sublime than I could have imagined.

Mike tasted all citrusy and fresh. As we continued kissing passionately, I ran my fingers through his hair and then down his big muscular arms. This was bliss. I felt like I was floating. With every flick of his tongue, the feelings of ecstasy grew. I wanted him. I had never wanted a man so much before in my life.

The tequila had given me some kind of newfound sexual confidence, and before I knew it, I’d pushed Mike back down on the sofa, climbed on top, then reached for his belt buckle.

Normally I wouldn’t sleep with a guy so quickly, but this was different. This wasn’t just anyone. This was Mike. I couldn’t wait for us to be together. Properly. To have all of him. To feel all of him.

Just as I went for his zip, he grabbed my hand. ‘Wait…’ He bolted up from the sofa. ‘This is a mistake. I-I should go.’

I was rooted to the spot.

What was happening?

Less than sixty seconds ago we were kissing. Enjoying the most magical, blissful kiss I’d ever had, and now he was leaving?

‘What? Why? I thought you…’

A mistake? Never had anything felt so right in my life. He wasn’t making any sense. I’d felt it. Every fibre in my being told me that kiss was real. That we were meant to be together.

I climbed off him sheepishly, feeling like a fool. Wondering if I’d come on too strong and that was why he wanted to leave.

‘I’m sorry. I’ve got to go,’ he said, avoiding my gaze. He grabbed his jacket and walked out of the room, then I heard the front door slam.

Just like that, Mike was gone.

And little did I know that, apart from one other awkward exchange, we wouldn’t see each other again for another ten years…