You're the One That I Want(35)

‘What?’

‘I don’t miss it at all.’

‘Being popular?’

‘Ha!’ he spat, pulling me closer and tickling me until I begged him to stop. ‘It never meant anything to me, but you? Now, you mean the world to me.’

And just like that, my strong, loving, thoughtful boyfriend eradicated my fears … well, at least for the time being.

We’d come to the end of school life and our university days were looming around the corner, ready to take us on the next big journey of our lives. There was a huge chance that the three of us would end up at different places around the country, a fact we’d decided not to worry too much about until our results were collected and offers accepted – but the wait was agonizing, even if we didn’t admit it.

We all had different universities down as our top choices, having decided to focus on different subjects. It meant that, if we all got the grades we’d been predicted, our friendship group would be separated for the first time in nine years. Robert, who had taken PE, Biology and English Language A levels, was hoping to go to Nottingham Trent to study Sport and Exercise Science. Ben, who’d taken Graphic Design, Art and English Language, was hoping to go up north to Northumbria to study Graphic Design. And I, having studied Art, English Literature and Psychology, wanted to go to Bristol and study Photography. If everything went to plan we’d be miles apart. It was a sobering thought.

A fry-up was the only way to start results day. Our grades, and our future fate, wouldn’t be accessible until ten o’clock and, seeing as we knew we’d all be up anxiously pacing around our homes, we figured getting together would keep our brains occupied. A sombre mood filled the kitchen in my house as we cooked in silence. Each of us lost in our own thoughts.

‘How are we all feeling?’ I asked, once we were seated and had started tucking in to our bacon, sausages, eggs, beans and toast.

Two shrugs were given as answers. It was a gesture I was used to receiving, but on that particular day I’d expected more from them.

‘I’m the only one crapping myself, then?’ I huffed.

‘Mad, there’s no point worrying until we know what we’re worrying about,’ said Ben with an appeasing smile.

‘Well said,’ nodded Robert, although I could see the worry in his face, highlighted by the frown on his brow. Robert needed to get the highest marks of our group to get onto his chosen course – two As and one B. I knew he was feeling the pressure, even if he wanted to pretend that he was laid-back about the whole thing.

‘Where are we going tonight, then?’ asked Ben, changing the subject to something more jovial.

‘Tonight? I think we should start straight away,’ Robert laughed, pulling three miniature bottles of Jack Daniels from his pocket and handing one to each of us. ‘To the tripod,’ he toasted, unscrewing the lid of his bottle and thrusting it in the air.

‘To the tripod,’ Ben and I repeated, giggling as we knocked them back.

The school was in chaos when we arrived, with people running around screaming in delight or crying in despair – their future fate decided. It caused a lump of nerves to form in my throat as we strolled to reception and picked up the awaiting white envelopes.

‘Should we go somewhere quiet?’ asked Robert. ‘Away from everyone?’

‘Over here,’ I gestured, leading us away from the crowds and into an empty classroom.

‘Here goes,’ sighed Robert.

‘Moment of truth,’ I laughed weakly.

‘On the count of three …?’ suggested Ben, to which we nodded. ‘One, two, three …’

We all hastily opened our envelopes, and took out the result papers, taking time to understand the meaning of them before any reactions were given.

‘Three fucking As!’ screamed Robert, fist pumping the air.

‘One A and two Bs!’ I squealed – it was more than I needed to get into Bristol. I threw myself on Robert in excitement, thrilled that everything was on track for us both.

But one of us wasn’t celebrating. I turned to face Ben to see that he was still staring at his paper, looking disappointed.

‘You all right, mate?’ asked Robert, clamping a hand on his shoulder. ‘How did you do?’

He looked up and shook his head.

Ben had needed to get an A and two Bs to get into Northumbria, but instead he’d got three Bs.

‘Fuck!’ offered Robert.

‘What are you going to do?’

‘I’ll phone up and see about clearing, I guess, but …’

‘There’s a “but”, that’s good!’ encouraged Robert.

‘Well, it’s good enough for my second choice …’ he said looking at me with an apprehensive smile. ‘Bristol.’