Because my brain didn’t know how to deal with what was going on with Danny, it completely shut that out, as if it had locked it away into a thick steel box to deal with at a later date. Instead, I started to think about another time I’d experienced a deep emotional pain like this one, almost as if I was searching for the answers I so desperately needed in my past.
The camping trip.
Urgh, that damn camping trip. I couldn’t help but feel that if that hadn’t happened, things could have been different between me and Joe—maybe we could even still be friends. Maybe none of the romance would have happened at all, and maybe that would have been better for us in the end. Of course I wouldn’t have felt that way at the time, but with hindsight, I could see that the way things had turned out wasn’t great anyway, so maybe it would have been better if I could have saved myself that heartache.
I was excited for the camping trip a long time before it happened. The entire class was. All of a sudden, because of our age and the crazy teenage hormones surrounding us, the air became filled with an intense sexual electricity. No one was interested in learning anymore, and the gossip changed completely from what was going on, to what could happen, and the potential was exhilarating.
Who was going to kiss who?
Who would be sharing a tent? How did that make room for any potential fooling around what may or may not happen?
What would happen with those relationships when we got back?
Of course there was no way I could share a tent with Joe, much as I wanted to, which meant I ended up with one of the very quiet, studious girls who also didn’t really have any friends—Emily. I liked her well enough, but she didn’t seem to care too much for me. Maybe I wasn’t intelligent enough for her, or maybe she was too socially inept to find a way to connect with me. Either way, we didn’t really speak, we only hung out awkwardly when we really had to.
But at the time, I didn’t care. All I wanted was to be with my friend anyway, the one I was terrified would slip away from me. The one I felt I might be losing to everyone else…
On the first day of the trip, I spent as much of my time beside Joe as I could. He ditched me once or twice to hang out with the guys, but apart from that, we were in one another’s pockets. We completed some ridiculous, mandatory tasks, such as white water rafting and building a camp fire, just to satisfy the teacher, but none of that was important to me. It was all background noise compared to what was going on internally.
All I could really focus on was the fact that something had irrevocably shifted inside of me, and I had no idea what to do about that.
Suddenly, Joe’s presence filled me with butterflies, his smell made me feel a weird squishiness inside, and as he spoke, all I could focus on was his lips. I had no idea what had sparked it—maybe it was puberty well and truly hitting me—but I no longer thought of him as only my buddy. I wanted to kiss him, to hug him, to claim him as my own in a fiercely intense, all-consuming way.
Although imagining that was fine, actually considering doing it was something else entirely—something absolutely petrifying. In all honesty, I was a messy ball of confusion. It amazed me that I managed to get anything done at all.
The face that I had become so accustomed to was somehow different. It suddenly meant a whole lot more to me, and I didn’t know what to do about it. I wasn’t sure if I was acting strange or different in any way, but Joe didn’t treat me any differently, which somehow made it even more challenging to come to terms with. Why did I have to be the only one experiencing this change? How the hell did he manage to remain completely unaffected? It didn’t feel fair.
The moment which shifted absolutely everything for evermore came the second evening, after dinner. One of the teachers had an amazing idea to run an orientation game in the dark for a little extra ‘fun.’ We were given a list of things to find in pairs, and the team that did it the quickest would win some form of prize.
Sensing that someone else was about to grab Joe to be on their team, I slipped my hand into his and squeezed it tightly as the teacher explained the game away. I’d been dreaming about him, thinking about him every single moment he wasn’t by my side, and it was making me crazy. I actually felt calmer with him, because then I couldn’t get myself all tied up in knots, worrying about what he was up to.
He shot me a smile as I did, accepting my request silently, which built up a false confidence within me—one that, looking back, should never have been there. I suppose in a way I thought it was him wanting me in the same way I did him, which was naïve and kind of crazy. I was just so wrapped up in him I couldn’t really see anything else.
As we raced through the crappy orientation course, quickly ignoring the game as we realised we were never going to win, we found ourselves laughing and joking in the way we normally did. Thankfully that ease of years of friendship was still there, allowing me to be around him in a semi-normal fashion. Eventually, through laziness, we gave up the pretence completely, and we found somewhere secluded to sit and have a—what felt like to me—much-needed chat.
“You do make me laugh,” Joe mused, tossing his arm casually around my shoulder. He was completely oblivious to my racing heart and the way my palms began to sweat at his mere touch. I gulped down a ball of fear and forced a smile on my face, wanting to act as normal as possible. “You’re such an awesome person, Lotts.”
Every time he called me Lotts—the nickname that only he could use for me—it built an intense bond between us. At least on my part.
“I like you a lot too,” I rasped, trying to control the tremble that raced through my spine. “I…I always have.” I meant something different there, but I wasn’t being forthright with that. It was very likely he assumed I was only talking about friendship.
However, there was an intense look in his eyes, one I felt could be desire. My pulse rate kicked up another notch entirely, and the butterflies grew even larger, turning more into bats as they swam through my stomach while we gazed at one another. I felt a disconnect with my body as I was certain I saw him lean towards me. For a split second, I tried to make the smart decision, the one that wouldn’t have horrible repercussions for our friendship, but I was so desperate for him, so needy, so keen, that I felt myself imitate him, needing to finally get more.
We were growing closer, I could feel his breath on my face, my lips were pursing…
“Oh look,” he cried out suddenly, jumping upright. “There’s Jack.”
I watched in a cold, icy horror as he ran off to join his friends, leaving me a quivering, emotional mess. As I remained sitting there, completely alone, eaten alive by my thoughts, I felt muddy and raw, exposed for the entire world to see.
The only problem was the person that I needed to see me was the only one who couldn’t.
“Come on, Lotts,” he called casually to me while laughing at something Jack had just said. “Let’s walk back with these guys now.”
I did as he requested, trailing numbly behind them all, but deep within me I knew nothing could ever be the same again.
I spent the final day and night of the trip in my sleeping bag, refusing to even move, never mind get out and join the rest of the class for whatever dumb activities they were doing. I wasn’t sure if the teachers fully believed in my illness, but they allowed me to remain behind. To be honest, I grew so worked up by what I perceived as Joe’s rejection, that I probably did look pale and sickly to them anyway.
The worst part of that time came from the fact that Joe didn’t even come to check in on me once to see how I was doing. Emily was kinder to me than I deserved, but even then I rejected her simply because she wasn’t the person I needed her to be. Looking back, I was cruel, and I felt terrible about that for a long time after.
When we returned home, I realised for certain that I needed something to change. I couldn’t keep going on in the way that things were—it was killing me. So as soon as the rumours hit my ears that there was another girl in Joe’s life, Kara from the year above, I did the only thing I could to protect my bruised and aching heart. I pulled back, moving away from him. I stopped seeking him out during school hours, preferring to spend time with Emily instead. Despite everything, she actually managed to become a really good friend to me.
I kept our friendship superficial, never discussing anything real, and definitely never Joe, but she was there for me when I needed someone, and for that I would always adore her.
I didn’t want to spend any time at home with Joe either, which proved a little more challenging. As soon as the eyes of our school friends were off us he would look for me once more, as if he needed to torment me. I threw myself into my studies, always telling my mum to send him away because I had homework, but he was relentless, which eventually caused our parents to intervene in a very unhelpful fashion.
I grabbed my diary, needing to seek out this time in my life, to try to see how I dealt with it. Looking back now, it was like a massive black void that I’d completely blocked out, but there had to be something that could help me…surely…
14th January 2007
Dear Joe,
I don’t know how to even begin to express my feelings to you out loud, never mind in a letter, but I feel like I need to just get some of it out before it full drives me mad. You’ve always been my best friend, my closest person, the only one I can speak to…but now, for some unexplained reason, things are different.
It isn’t necessarily you. To be honest, you haven’t really changed at all. It’s me. I don’t know how to be around you anymore when I like you so much. I don’t even know how to fit you in to that part of my life, never mind deal with it. I can’t talk to you about it without wrecking anything…so I just don’t speak to you at all.
I love you. At least, I think I do. Yep, I definitely love you, but you’re with her, so it’s obvious that you don’t feel the same way.
I’m sorry. I don’t even know…
Tears rolled down my cheeks as I recalled writing this scrambled letter. I thought I was going to give it to him, to help us to find a way to make some kind of bond again, but I didn’t. I hid my feelings, kept them buried inside until they became rotten and twisted, eating me up alive.
If there was one thing I could take from this, it was to not allow situations to just wash over me again. I couldn’t continue down the same path as fifteen-year-old me. Somehow, I was going to have to man up, and to take action this time. I needed to do something…I just didn’t know what!