‘I’ve been waiting a long time to do this,’ Lad Boy said as he cupped my face in his hands and kissed me. It felt odd, but still nice at the same time. We were lying facing each other in bed and I wrapped my leg around his waist. We kissed some more before I pulled away and sat up to take my shirt off.
‘Let me help you with that,’ a voice said from my other side. I turned to see RG smiling at me before he kissed me. I could feel Lad Boy kissing my shoulders when I heard the door open. I looked over to see Grey standing in the doorway.
‘Mind if I join?’
The sharp tone of my alarm clock dragged me slowly from the dream. Why was it that what was potentially the most interesting dream I’ve ever had was interrupted by my alarm clock, whilst I had a dream that lasted what seemed like hours two nights earlier about listening to a lecture on biomechanics that my mind finally bored itself enough with to wake me up out of? I had a dream a few weeks earlier that Lad Boy and I were having a threesome with a porn star. One of many strange sex dreams I had been having on a regular basis. What the hell was going on in my mind? I contemplated trying to fall back asleep as the brightness of the grey sky creeped through a crack in my curtains, but for fear of slipping back into a biomechanics lecture instead of a foursome I threw my duvet to the side and forced myself out of bed.
I crossed my room and put the kettle on. As I waited for it to boil I shivered and pulled on Dale’s oversized sweatshirt I had borrowed from him before turning the heating up. The kettle clicked off as I was putting the teabag in my mug. As I let the tea brew I opened my laptop to check emails and facebook. I drink my tea stronger than most, so after a few minutes and an acceptable shade of dark I took the teabag out, poured in an obscene amount of milk (think a 65:35 ratio of tea to milk), took out a ginger biscuit and returned to my laptop to get through the morning’s admin.
With BBC Breakfast playing in the background I was slowly coming to life as the tea content of my mug diminished. There was an hour before my lecture, but I could tell that I was going to be late if I even made it at all. I am chronically late to most things. Terrible habit. If it’s something important I have to aim to be an hour early so that I can be there thirty minutes early. I could go to a lecture that would no doubt bore the pants off of me or I could stay home and work on a project due later in the week. I opted to stay home and put the kettle on again.
Three hours of 4oD and BBC iPlayer later, I finally shut off the programmes and opened up Word. A flash of my dream came back to me and I decided to write it out. Hello, Monday.
Which brings me to this very second. Still in slippers and Dale’s sweatshirt, it’s past midday and I have done nothing. I was quite productive last week, these things come in spurts I find. Not checking Twitter and blog comments every fifteen minutes certainly helped, as did refraining from writing out everything that was happening which would have monopolised much of my time. But here I am, regretting not at least making a coherent timeline of what’s happened because without knowing it I’ve been in a relationship for over a month now and have only managed to write about Ricky Gervais.
Perhaps it’s because things with Dale have been going so well that I don’t want to share them for fear of jinxing myself. It’s been nothing particularly hilarious or anecdotal really, and the relationship has only been sporadically interrupted with inner freakouts and imagined crisis on my part. What kind of crisis you may ask? I suppose this is where I’ve missed the rather anecdotal parts of the past month.
Unnecessary Freakout Anecdote:
‘I can’t wait for you to meet my best friend.’ Dale said one day. ‘She’s great.’
She, huh? ‘Can’t wait!’ I said, as we walked through college hand in hand towards his. We got to his room, and as we de-clothed each other and fell into bed laughing I forgot all about this pending introduction.
The next night I walked into our college bar and Dale spotted me. ‘Hey!’ He said, coming over to me and we kissed hello.
‘Hi!’
‘I want you to meet someone.’ He said and we walked towards a girl who had her back to me. He tapped her on the shoulder and as she turned around he said, ‘This is Lily.’ A name that is also a flower is only appropriate, as the girl who turned around is possibly one of the most beautiful girls I have ever seen.
‘Hi! Dale has told me a lot about you, it’s so nice to finally meet you!’ She said, extending her hand.
Smiling, I opened my mouth to say something but was a bit dumbstruck by what could have been Britain’s Next Top Model standing in front of me. I managed to finally say, ‘Likewise!’ as I shook her hand. ‘Dale has said nothing but nice things about you,’ I added as I looked towards him. He was smiling at the two of us.
‘Well, I think I’m going to get a drink, would you like something?’ Lily asked.
‘Sure, I’ll have whatever you’re having I’m sure it’s fine.’
‘Lager okay?’
‘Sure!’ I said. Why had I just said “sure” what seemed like a million times in one minute? I was in my panic-say-one-key-word-repeatedly mode. “Sure” was apparently the word of the day.
She returned with the drinks, ‘There you are,’ she said handing me a pint.
‘Cheers.’
She sat next to me and we began to talk, as Dale was busy talking to Al (the three of us being in social situations together is so frequent that the awkwardness has subsided and the regularity has taken over). As I spoke to Lily that evening a few things became very apparent.
Very Apparent Observations about Lily:
- She is bloody well cool.
- Her and I are essentially the same person
- She is strikingly beautiful, as pointed out to me later by every male friend of mine in the bar.
- Dale worships the ground that she walks on.
Number three and four are what triggered the crazy switch in my mind for about a week. Number one and two are what eventually brought me back to reality.
About a week after I had met Lily, and after a week of over-thinking things as I tend to do, I called Dale as I hadn’t seen him in a few days due to our hectic schedules and both being out of town over the weekend.
‘Hey!’ He answered.
‘Hi, how’s it going?’
‘Yeah, it’s-’ he began to cut in and out.
‘I can’t really hear you too well.’ I said over the static.
‘Oh! (More incoherent words here)’
‘Yeah, I still can’t hear you.’
A few seconds later the static stopped. ‘Is that better?’ he asked quickly.
‘Yeah, where are you?’
‘At home, just ran down the stairs and am outside now.’
I laughed. ‘Cool, what are you up to tonight?’
‘Lily’s over right now, we’re just making dinner. You’re welcome to come over. Have you eaten?’
My face burned red a little. ‘Well, I texted you about two hours ago asking what you were doing for dinner then got bored and hungry so, yes, I’ve eaten.’ I said in a flat tone, less amused than I had been a minute earlier.
‘Oh, okay.’ He said, clearly (and thankfully) oblivious to my irrational and sudden rage. ‘Do you want to just meet at the pub in a bit then?’
‘Sure.’ I said, reverting to my panic word.
‘Cool, cool. I’ll give you a call when we head out.’
‘Any idea when that will be?’
‘Uh, well we just started cooking so an hour I suppose? I don’t really know.’
‘Okay. Well, let me know.’
‘I will, see you soon!’
‘Yeah, see ya. Bye.’
‘Byeee.’ He said. He always elongated the ‘i’ sound in ‘bye’. I was too angry to find it endearing at that very moment.
‘Argh!’ I said, hanging up, picking up a pillow off Briony’s bed and punching it. I missed the pillow and punched the little finger on my opposite hand. ‘Fuck!’
‘What’s wrong?!’ Briony asked, shocked.
‘I was just invited to dinner by Dale and Lily.’
‘What?’
‘Why do I feel like they’re the couple?’
‘Why are they cooking dinner?’
‘I guess they were hanging out together.’
‘What’s the big deal?’
‘Ugh. It’s nothing. It’s just that … she’s, like, really, really, pretty.’
‘And? So are you.’ Briony said.
‘Really?’
‘Don’t be daft. Yes, you are “like, really, really pretty” as well.’
‘But look at her,’ I said, holding up her facebook profile picture on my iPhone to Briony.
‘She’s not that pretty.’
‘You have to meet her in person, and yeah she is that pretty.’
‘You sound like a mentalist. You are prettier than her.’
‘That’s not what this is about! Forget the pretty part. Yes, we’re both pretty. The point is, I feel like a third wheel whenever I’m with her and Dale.’
‘Well obviously he likes you more than he likes her, which is why he’s dating you.’
‘I know.’
Briony tried to reassure me for another half an hour and I immediately regretted seeking a girl’s advice on the matter, because I actually hate talking about these kind of momentary problems, which are then subsequently (though not necessarily rightfully) validated by female friends obsessing with me about every text message/phone call.
‘What if he doesn’t text me tonight?’ I asked at one point, granted at the height of my panic.
He texted about two minutes later.
Headed to the pub now, see you there? x
Sure, see you in a bit x x
Cool x
I sat with Briony for a bit longer before heading to the pub, trying to get the last of my crazy out before I had to go and talk to people like a normal, non-pillow punching, human being. I eventually left and made the short walk to the local. As I walked I shuffled through my iTunes library on my phone and landed on ‘Don’t Panic’ by Coldplay. My anxiousness dissipated as I thanked the stars that I had a psychic iPhone that knew which songs to play when. Sometimes I really do think it is psychic, but that’s a story for another day. A few steps from the door I turned the music off and shoved my headphones into my pocket.
We’re sat in the front by the telly x Dale had texted me a few minutes earlier.
I walked in and saw Dale and two of our friends sitting, facing the telly, watching whatever game was on. Lily sat on the other side of the table, alone with her back to the telly. I sat next to her.
‘Hey,’ Dale said. ‘How’s your day been?’ He glanced up towards the game before I answered.
‘It’s been okay. Yours?’
‘Yeah, good.’ He said, looking at me briefly before returning his attention to the telly behind me.
‘Who’s playing?’ I asked turning to Lily.
‘Honestly, I don’t know.’ She said, then whispered, ‘And I don’t really care.’ We laughed and talked to each other as the boys sat, drinking in silence and watching the game.
I realised that I had been overreacting, as usual, to Dale’s friendship with Lily. Who wouldn’t want to be friends with her? In fact, if I get nothing else from my relationship with Dale, I will at least have made friends with her. Her and I have so much in common, which is perhaps what initially made me anxious – if Dale liked me so much, and Lily is exactly like me, why wasn’t he with her? As it turns out she has a boyfriend at another uni, but I’m not sure that actually made me feel any better.
After the game we all headed to a party. I was getting a drink when I saw Lily and Dale talking and laughing together. It’s difficult not to be just a bit jealous when you see your boyfriend talking to someone who is clearly beautiful and funny and intelligent. It’s even more difficult to listen to them talk about all the fun times they’ve had together. ‘Rember the time we ____? Or when we ____? Or that one time when you forgot your _____’ They have this entire history together and my relationship with Dale seems infinitely smaller in comparison.
I stood there by the drinks, all these thoughts running through my head when Russ came up. ‘Alright beautiful?’
‘Hey!’ I said, and he gave me two big kisses on each cheek. ‘How are you my love?’
‘Dr-unk.’ He replied.
I laughed. ‘Per usual.’
He put his arm around me and said, ‘So how are things with Dale?’
‘Yeah they’re good. I think he’s in love with Lily.’
Russ looked at me and frowned. ‘Clearly he isn’t. I mean she’s fit, but so are you. And he’s with you. If he was in love with her, he wouldn’t be with you.’
‘I guess.’
He pulled away and faced me, putting both hands on my shoulders. ‘You’re thinking too much. You just need to,’ he did a windscreen wiper type movement in front of his face and made a whoosh! sound, ‘stop thinking.’
‘If only.’ I said, and he pulled me in for a hug.
I had one last thought before taking Russ’ advice, which is that, from across a crowded room, the intimate greeting, subsequent intimate conversation and current embrace could be misread quite easily by anyone in that room. Russ was one of my best friends, and despite how close we are, I’m not about to do anything romantic with him. He also reminded me why it was that I went to my male friends for advice. Stop thinking is much better advice than Let’s talk this to death and then you should go and talk to Dale about this. Not that I’m not infinitely grateful to my girlfriends who do indulge me in my crazy freakouts, but perhaps they should learn to get me to snap out of it quickly, as it’s much far more conducive to my sanity.
Whoosh I thought and walked back towards the drinks. I had made mine way too strong initially and needed to water it down a bit.
I calmed down massively after my chat with Russ, and after he had wandered away Dale came up to me. ‘Hey, how’s it going?’
‘Good, you?’
‘Yeah, good.’
I paused, ‘Do you want to go home together tonight?’ I asked, slightly sceptical of what the answer would be, but my tone was masked by the music.
He frowned. ‘Of course!’ His tone was not masked, it was more of a Why would you ask that kind of daft question you silly cow? Minus the cow part because I’m about 99.9% positive he would never call anyone a cow. I smiled and went to kiss him on the cheek and he went to kiss me on the mouth, resulting in an awkward half mouth-half cheek kiss that we both laughed at as we pulled away. Why am I so bad at casually kissing people? I do not know. ‘C’mon.’ He said, and we went back to our circle of friends and enjoyed the rest of the party. Any and all tension had disappeared as quickly as the awkwardness from our kiss.
As it got later we decided to leave. Lily had left her bike at Dale’s so we all walked together back to college together. She was at a different college than Dale and I, hence needing a mode of transport to get home. We said our goodbyes and Dale and I headed up to his room.
We began kissing and I soon found myself sandwiched between the mattress and Dale. He pulled away for a second and I said, ‘Can’t . . . breathe!’
He propped himself up on his arms quickly. ‘Really?! I’m sorry.’
I laughed, ‘No, not really. You’re big, but you’re not that big.’
He smiled, then put his arm underneath me and in one swift move he was under me and I was on top of him, laughing. We kissed some more and he ran his hand down to the hem of my dress and pulled it up towards my waist. I propped myself up and he pulled the dress towards him and off of me. More difficult than it sounds when you’re trying to stabilise yourself with one arm on the bed. After more laughing and a bit more struggling I was finally out of my trap of a dress. I pulled his shirt up, and in similar amusing fashion it was stuck about halfway over his face. I stopped and looked at him for a moment. ‘This is a good look for you.’
‘I’m sure.’ He said, then pulled the shirt off and threw it on the floor.
We laughed some more, and as we continued to undress and get down to business I smiled knowing that it wasn’t a dream my crazy mind had fabricated.
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