‘I’m afraid that we’re closing up for the night guys,’ the grey haired bar man says to us.
I look around and notice that we’re the only ones left.
‘How old are you?’ I blurt out.
‘Poppy!’ Ryan slurs.
‘Sorry, I’m just interested,’ I slur back.
‘I’m sixty-three, but I don't feel a day over twenty-one,’ he says, smiling kindly.
‘Well, you look g-g-great’.
‘Maybe time to take her home, hmm?’ he says to Ryan.
Why is he talking about me like I’m not here? Ryan is just as drunk as me, but he nods back, as if I’m some huge liability.
‘Come on, miss aggressive drunk,’ Ryan says, dragging me off my bar stool.
‘I just want to finish my drink.’ I clutch onto it for dear life.
‘I think you’ve had enough,’ he says, taking it out of my hand and placing it on the bar.
‘Wait!’
‘What?’ he says, stopping in his tracks, seeming alarmed. Maybe I was a bit loud.
‘I can't walk with these stupid things on.’ I throw off my flip flops and place my bare feet on the warm grass. ‘Aah, that's better’.
‘You really are a bit of a hippy aren’t you?’ he says, with a wicked grin.
‘Whatever,’ I slur trailing on behind him, not caring that he’s again decided to walk off the main path. It’s more private this way.
We walk for another few hundred yards singing Bon Jovi and getting shouted at by people trying to sleep in their tents. Wimps.
‘My feet hurt,’ I wail.
‘Don't be such a baby Pops. We’re nearly there,’ he says playfully.
I hate being called a baby. It instantly puts my back up. Unless someone’s saying ‘nobody puts baby in the corner’. That's obviously different. I’ll show him. I’ll prove to him that I can walk for miles.
‘Do you want a lift?’ he asks, humour curving his lips.
‘No! I’m fine on my own thanks,’ I say defiantly. ‘I have two feet.’
God – I’m not even making sense.
‘Come here,’ he says, flinging me on his back into a piggy back, before I can protest. I wrap my hands round his neck and lean my face against his. It's so warm and soft.
‘You know, sometimes you’re so moody,’ I say.
‘Ri...ght?’
‘But tonight you were so fun. I like fun. I like lollipops too.’ I literally can't stop this shit coming out of my mouth. It's like my tongue doesn’t belong to me anymore!
‘Yeah, I like lollipops too. And, I’m not moody, I’m just misunderstood,’ he says, his voice serious.
‘That's something that moody people always say. You and Grace should get married. You could have beautiful moody children...and you could get a moody dog...and maybe even a moody parrot.’
He laughs. ‘You think I’m beautiful, do you?’ he asks, his voice husky.
‘But moody. Let it be noted that I think you’re moody.’
‘Don't worry, I think I get the hint that I’m moody. But you’re too nice.’
‘Too nice?’
‘Yep,’ he nods. ‘It's funny. You get yourself in loads of trouble from just being too nice.’
‘Well, I’m sorry for being too nice,’ I say like a moody child.
‘Well maybe that's why we complement each other. I’m moody and you’re too nice. Together we’re probably a normal person.’
‘Yeah, we’d have normal children. But Grace is very beautiful. I would love her,’ I slur, wondering why I’m not walking. That's right, I’m on his back.
‘Well, then you can marry her. I’m not interested.’
‘Good. Beautiful people should not get together. It's too perfect.’
‘Well I guess there’s no hope for me and you then,’ he chuckles.
‘Huh? You think I’m beautiful?’ I slur, surprised.
‘You’re alright I suppose,’ he says, after a pause.
It’s enough for me to start singing.
‘You really love me, you want my babies, you want to marry me and kiss and squeeze me,’ I sing to him.
‘OK,’ he says drily. ‘We’re back now anyway.’
He puts me down in front of my leopard print tent and I look inside to see Izzy and Grace passed out, still fully clothed.
‘Well, goodnight,’ he says, punching me on my shoulder.
‘Ouch!’ Night.’
I crawl into the tent, but something stirs in my stomach. I really don't want the night to end. I don't want to be away from him. I crawl out and go up to his tent.
‘Ryan,’ I whisper through the material. ‘Ryan, are you awake?’ I unzip the tent and he looks up just as he takes his top off, exposing his beautiful soft skin.
‘Alright trouble. I thought you went to bed?’ he whispers.
‘Well, I don't want to. I want to cause more trouble,’ I giggle. ‘And your wife is snoring too loud.’
‘I’m tired though,’ he says, pushing his hair back with his hands.
‘Me too. Can I sleep with you? I mean, you know...just to sleep.’
‘OK, but I’ve only got the one sleeping bag.’
‘That's OK,’ I say already jumping into it. ‘I can share.’
I snuggle into his pillow and feel him try and squeeze in next to me. I lay silent and melt when he wraps his arm around me, his hand resting in between my boobs. His legs go in between my legs. I breathe deeply as he pulls my hair away from my face and kisses me on the neck.
‘Night Pops.’
‘Mmm,’ is all I can manage before I give up fighting the tiredness and drift off into my dream world.
Chapter 16
When I wake up I search for his hand before I open my eyes. All I feel is the cold sleeping bag. I open my eyes and look around the tent for him, but again nothing. Where the hell is he? My dream flashes up in my head and I remember vaguely that me and Ryan were lollipops that got married, and Grace was a mars bar that melted in the sun. How random.
‘Ryan?’ I call quietly, suddenly feeling vulnerable.
What time is it anyway? I glance at my watch and see that it's 9am. I unzip the tent door and find him sitting on a chair in front of the fire, his forehead wrinkled up in deep thought.
‘You ok?’ I ask quietly as I walk around the silent tents. It doesn’t look like anyone else in the camp is awake yet.
‘Yeah,’ he says, looking up and smiling weakly. ‘Just thinking.’
‘Oh, ok. Anything...interesting?’
I feel so awkward. Last night all of the walls were down. Well, almost all of them. I don't know if we’re being so candid today and it makes me feel tongue-tied.
‘Nah,’ he says, looking at me, his eyes enigmatic.
OK, what the hell do I say to that? I gaze at him expectantly, waiting for him to speak.
‘I was just thinking that life is complicated,’ he sighs.
‘O...kay. What brought on this sudden bought of depression?’
‘Nothing. It’s just...I seem to always make things difficult for myself,’ he says, seeming to be torn by some internal dilemma.
‘How?’ I ask, removing the sleep from my eyes.
‘I just...I just think me and you are best as friends,’ he blurts out quickly.
‘Oh.’ I’m still too asleep to be as truly upset as I know I will be later. ‘Yeah, that's fine,’ I shrug, trying not to look bothered and hoping my cheeks aren’t blushing.
‘I just think you’d be better off without me.’ He looks into the fire, his expression blank.
Did I come on to him last night or something? I must seriously be giving off majorly desperate vibes for him to have to be clarifying it to me like this.
‘Anyway, happy birthday. What do you want for breakfast?’ He smiles, seeming to be pleased to have got that off his chest.
I’m so mortified. I shouldn’t have to feel this humiliated on my birthday and it's only 9am.
‘There’s a choice?’ I smile. I look around for this supposed food while I desperately try not to show my disappointment.
‘Yep. There’s beans or the burger van?’ His dazzling face is friendly, a slight smile on his flawless lips, but his eyes are careful. Probably scared to lead me on in case I’m still planning our wedding.
‘Shall I wake the others?’ I ask, desperate to get myself out of this situation.
‘Yeah, you better do. I’d hate to see Grace hungry. I reckon she’d murder someone,’ he says, with a cheeky grin.
I laugh gratefully, pleased that he’s lightened the mood. I love it when he laughs with that twinkle in his eye, like we’re both in on some private joke. But we’re just friends remember. Yeah, I remember, I think sadly.
I go into the leopard print tent.
‘Guys, wake up. We’re going to get breakfast.’
I hear Grace grunt from the black sleeping bag. Izzy stretches out, yawning so wide that I can see her tonsils.
‘Morning Pops. Happy birthday,’ Izzy claps. She immediately flinches and touches her temples. ‘God, I can't believe how much we drank last night.’
‘Yeah I know.’ I’m only too aware of my own headache.
‘God, if any of my clients could see me now they’d be horrified.’
I laugh because I feel I should, but my hearts not in it. What Ryan said is starting to sink in. I’m so pathetic. I feel just like I’m back at school and the popular boy’s told me I don't stand a chance. I might as well have my braces back.