Eight Perfect Hours by Lia Louis

Chapter Thirty-Four

Daisy seemed to be secretly relieved when I told her I wouldn’t join her in Lee’s car. I beat myself up about it for such a long time, making up versions in my head that had Daisy looking sad or disappointed when Ed came along and said, ‘Come with me, Nell. Don’t let me go on the train on my own. Pleaaaase?’ In so many versions my brain dreamed up to torture me, in so many bad dreams, Daisy begged me to stay with her. She cried, she got really angry at me – snarlingly angry. ‘Why the fuck would you leave me?’ she’d spit. ‘So what, you’re just blowing me off for your boyfriend? Is that what you’re doing? You could’ve stopped him. You could’ve changed things.’

But the reality was so different. She gigglingly stumbled over the grass with me, then stopped and pointed out his car. A white Golf in the distance, low to the ground. ‘There he is,’ she’d said. ‘Next to that really tall one with the dark hair. I think that’s his cousin. But look. Look at him. Look at that super sexy hair.’

‘Fit,’ I’d said.

‘Both super fit. Well. Even you can see that from the back, and you can tell a hottie from the back, you know,’ said Daisy, ‘it is scientifically proven. And they are. Trust me.’

Then Daisy had put her arms around me and cuddled me tightly. Her hugs were always tight, as if she was squeezing something out of me. ‘I hate weak hugs,’ she used to say, ‘I’d rather they didn’t bother, if they don’t mean it. What’s the point? Hug me or don’t at all.’

‘Do you know he told me I had the sexiest mouth he’d ever seen?’ she’d squeaked and I laughed into her ear. She always smelled of vanilla, a perfume she used religiously, from a baby blue bottle. ‘You do have a sexy mouth.’

‘You wait till you hear his voice,’ she said, jiggling about on the spot, the way people do when they’re bursting for a wee. ‘It’s slightly like … I dunno … Canadian or something. Or maybe he’s just weird, like one of those blokes out of Busted. You know, they sort of talk American when they’re from like, Taplow or something. I like weird.’

‘Is he Canadian?’

She linked my arm. ‘Oh, no, he’s from Bristol, I think. You’ll know what I mean when you hear his voice. But his cousin is full-blown American, so I think he gets it from him. You know, it rubs off.’ And we’d laughed giddily then, like we might never stop.

We walked together, across the soft grass, green and lush and cushiony, and the floodlights lit us up as if the sun was shining. I think that’s why my last memories of Daisy are as if the sun was shining on her like a spotlight, turning her brown eyes copper, twinkling as if excited by the world and all that was waiting for her.

‘His cousin is proper tall, isn’t he?’ Daisy said. ‘And you know, I love our Ed, but it’s sort of a shame you’re not single, Elle, because I can really see you with a tall man.’

I laughed and she squeezed my arm.

‘I’m serious! I can see it if I close my eyes. You and this super tall guy with like … I dunno … a little twinkle in his eye and strong arms and …’ She put a hand forward, to Lee’s cousin who was now walking off, his hands patting his pockets. ‘I mean, look at those shoulders …’

She stopped, conscious of Ed being behind us now. ‘Cos you know, Ed might have that smile and those bloody Colgate teeth, and all that boring knowledge all the girls in biology love.’ She looked at me and smirked. ‘But Ed’s a proper fucking short arse. Like he could probably fit into my size threes.’

‘I’m a size nine actually, thanks very much.’

I felt Ed’s arm around my waist, warm and tight.

‘A very generous nine,’ I said, and Ed kissed the side of my face.

‘Size nine is quite pathetic, Edward,’ said Daisy. ‘Lee is an eleven. His cousin probably struggles to find shoes. The sign of a real man.’

I stopped on the grass, remembered how smoky my hair smelled, from the barbecue, the way I lifted a bunch of curls to my nose. ‘How can you know what size Lee’s feet are,’ I’d giggled, ‘but have no idea what his proper name is. Or where he lives. Or if he’s seventeen or eighteen or even nineteen.’

‘Because I find out the important stuff up front. Shoe size. Ability to write a poem …’

‘His real name?’ asked Ed, laughingly.

‘Yeah, it’s like, Stanley or Bradley or something. Anyway Edward, you’ve got to go.’

‘Have I?’

‘Elle, come in Lee’s car with me on the way home. Please. Then you can meet him.’

‘Bloke on the plumbing course? The one with the hair?’

‘Yup.’

‘Well, you’re not stealing my girl,’ said Ed, nuzzling his nose into my neck. ‘I’m coming too.’

‘No way. He’s not got the room. You are not getting in.’

‘What? So I have to go home on my own?’

Ed groaned and pulled me towards him as we stumbled along. ‘Get the train with me, Nell. You’ll be a third wheel. Nobody likes a third wheel, nobody wants to be a third wheel—’

‘She won’t be. Nell can scope him out, approve of him, and then we’ll drop her off. Then it’s to the twenty-four-hour Maccy D’s and a snog in the car park.’

‘And when is it you’re going to check out his feet?’ Ed asked. ‘Is that after a Big Mac or before?’

And we’d all burst out laughing, there under the stars, under the bright floodlights, our breath making fog in the air.

‘Seriously, come with me, Nell. She’s got a date.’

I really did weigh it up. I didn’t want to be third wheel, I wanted to be with Ed, but then I wanted to be with Daisy, meet this boy she never stopped talking about. But I could meet him another time, right? A time I wouldn’t be a third wheel, awkwardly squirming in the back seat with his cousin or whoever it was, as they made out in the front. ‘I should really leave you to it. If you’re gonna be kissing and stuff. Unless you want me to come, and then of course I will …’

At that moment, Lee called over. ‘Daisy!’ he shouted. I can still hear that part echo through my brain, if I think hard enough. It was so loud, it echoed.

‘I don’t see a car full,’ I whispered.

‘See,’said Ed. ‘His tall mate with the special shoes is even walking off.’

‘God.’ She looked over her shoulder where Lee was still looking, smiling, a cool lazy hand in a wave. She waved back and turned to us, her eyes bright, two little lime-green studs glittering in her ears. ‘Maybe it is just us two.’

And then Lee had called again, and Daisy had sort of started walking backwards, her mouth in a rigid, tight, excited grin, all teeth and sparkling eyes.

‘Love you,’ she’d mouthed to me. ‘I’ll text you, Elle.’

‘You better.’

And she had. It was her last ever text. ‘He seriously just reached over and squeezed my hand. My heart is dancing! WHO KNEW THE HEART COULD DANCE!’

And I waited for Daisy’s ‘I’m home’ text, but nothing came. I was asleep until Ed shook me awake at our train stop and we walked home together, tired and lazy, blue lights streaking through the town. I’d tutted at the shrillness of the sudden sirens. Sirens I later found out were for Daisy and Lee. And would’ve been for me too, if I had got in the car.