Message sent

Message Sent

They met at the bus stop, the first day of college in the early days of September. This was her second go-round; she thought she was so cool with her spiked hair and badges on her bag, standing nonchalantly against the pillar and looking up the road for the bus with that practiced mask that hid her nerves, her fear that everyone was silently judging her.
“Hey Sis,” she heard from behind and she smiled briefly to herself at this familiar nickname that she had barely heard all through the summer holidays. She turned to greet Lewis, who was not actually her sibling - however much he insisted. She noticed another boy walking with Lewis, his hands in his pockets and a bag slung over one of his shoulders. She didn’t recognise him. She and most of the youths in the village hung around with nothing to do, either on the steps or outside the Post Office and sometimes even further, like the Dram or the Bumps. These fair-weather friends, with their chatter, their antics and their spare fags were better than spending time alone with her thoughts. But she didn’t know this one.
“This is Ashley, a fellow geek,” Lewis told her proudly, gesturing to his friend. “And this is Jess, who is also a geek but just won’t admit it. I’ve been trying for years to get her to come to the dark side of geekery, I’ll wear her down one day.”
She smiled indulgently as Lewis chatted on because she didn’t know what to say and looked the new kid over surreptitiously. Dirty blond hair that was nearly a buzz cut. The start of a wispy, ginger beard. A grey fleece jumper and blue jeans. Skinny. But he had a nice, goofy smile and kind, grey eyes.
They chatted and joked until the bus arrived over the brow of the hill and all the other college-going teens gathered around. She said goodbye to Lewis and his friend and made her way to the back of the bus where her friend Kelly was waving frantically. Kelly hardly ever got the bus but Jess was glad to have someone to talk to on the way to college. Lewis tended to talk about gaming and computers and Jess thought it was too early in the morning for that.

***

Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months. Christmas came and went, January melted away and then it was February. Jess’ life had become a flurry of lessons, homework and a weekend social life. Kelly was talking constantly about her big, extravagant eighteenth birthday party on Valentine’s day.
They were in the canteen one lunchtime, tucked away in the corner. Jess liked this table; not only to hide but to watch the people walking to and from the fag shed through the huge windows. Kelly and Jamie, who was wearing a flamboyant glitter hat and scarf combo today, were talking about who to invite but Jess was barely listening.
“Jess, what do you think?” Kelly said, breaking into Jess’ reverie. She glanced down at the list Kelly had shoved across the table but barely knew any of the people written down in Kelly’s untidy scrawl, or else found them too intimidating to talk to. Suddenly she had visions of sitting in the corner like some sad and lonely gothic wallflower, watching others have a good time and wishing, as always, that she had more confidence. She glanced around the canteen and spotted a group of lads playing some sort of card game, laughing raucously in the way that young lads do.
“What about Lewis?”
Jamie rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically but Kelly’s face lit up. “Ooh yeah, Lewis.” She jotted his name down on her list and flicked her long hair over her shoulder. “I’ll go ask him.” She jumped up and pranced over to their table for a few minutes, some of the boys staring up at her like they’d never seen a girl before.
“Lewis said he’d come,” she said after she’d danced back through the mess of chairs and people. “Oh, and that Ashley kid, too.”
“Cool,” she replied, nodding her head calmly. She was working so hard to keep the smile from her lips for fear of being mercilessly mocked by Jamie, but Jess found she was looking forward to this party just a little bit more now.

***

Kelly’s party was in a club down the road where old men played skittles on a Friday night. Although the room was small and run-down, the bright lights from the DJ booth made it look better. The DJ was playing indie rock from Kelly’s playlist and a few people were dancing in a tiny space in front of the small stage. Kelly’s family, including her aunts, uncles and grandparents were there, too.
As predicted, Jess had not worked up the courage to stand around talking to any of Kelly’s friends, because they were older and were part of the skate crew. She did smile when anyone caught her eye on their way to the bar. Then she spotted Lewis and Ashley walking through the battered old door, both looking very smart in their shirts and product-laden hair. Jess had to stifle a laugh because Ashley was wearing an honest-to-goodness tie and therefore took first prize of the Best Dressed Competition.
After a couple of hours most of Kelly’s family had left and only the younger crowd remained. They had cut the cake and devoured the buffet table and were sitting around, chatting about everything and nothing. Kelly passed around a bottle of vodka under the table, being careful to avoid the watchful eyes of Dawn, her mum. Jess splashed a bit more into her Coke. Lewis and Ashley declined.
Jess’ cheeks felt hot but she was having a good time. The music, although a bit light for her tastes, was better than whatever was in the charts at the moment and she was deep in conversation with her two geeky friends. Jess was being frightfully witty and drole, given a bit of Dutch courage from the vodka, and even tried flirting a little with Ashley. He either didn’t notice or was ignoring it. Or maybe she was being too subtle. He was terribly funny, she thought to herself as he made some joke in his smooth voice with just a hint of the local dialect. The Forest twang usually grated on her nerves but on him it was charming.
They were kicked out promptly at 11pm and made their way outside to wait for lifts from grumbling parents. Jess stood with Ashley while Lewis flitted around, being his usual strange yet endearing self. She had mostly sobered up now, conscious of the fact that she was going home to her whip-smart mother who could sniff out vices like a bloodhound.
A car pulled up next to them, headlights glaring, and Ashley called over to Lewis.
“That’s my dad,” he said and brushed her hand slightly as he turned to get in the car. “Bye.”
She waved as the car disappeared into the darkness, listening to a chorus of The Killers or some other trendy band sung by a group of giggling girls while she waited for her step-dad to pick her up.
At home, after she’d successfully bypassed Maggie and climbed the curved staircase to her secluded bedroom, Jess wrote in her diary as she did every night and got into bed. She text Kelly to congratulate her on the party and then hovered over a new text, her heart racing. She wanted to send a text to Ashley, because she found that she couldn’t stop thinking about him. Everything she typed sounded insipid and she deleted her words with growing frustration. In the end she sent something direct, something hard to misconstrue, something that he could easily decline if he wanted to. Her heart hammered in her chest as she watched the envelope on the screen zoom off into nothing. Message Sent.

***

Many years have passed since that night. But every year spent together. Ups and downs, through thick and thin and all the other sayings about a long, happy life. They’ve got the kids, the house, even the pets. Their life is a domestic utopia; but she knows, from watching too many TV shows and reading too many articles, that they must not get complacent. Seventeen is a tender age to meet the love of your life, and amazing when it happens. But they cannot take it for granted.
So she wanted to tell a story, their story. She wanted to tell him that she loves him, that she’s always loved him and she’s glad they’ve built a life. As she writes this, she’s nervous about being so vulnerable. She wonders how he might react. Her heart is hammering in her chest, just like the night she sent that text.
He still gives her butterflies. Message Sent.