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“What happened to you?” Logan laughed. “Didn’t you used to be a party girl?”
I cringed a little at his words. A few years ago I may have had a bit of a reputation as a club fiend. Oh, the joys of Facebook and its ability to document all of your moves, even if you weren’t the one posting them. I dreaded to think how many pictures Logan might have seen of me after a few too many vodkas on nights out with friends.
“Ha!” I said, shaking off the embarrassment. “I used to go out, but not to the extremes of some people. I am looking forward to having a proper drink later though. It’s been forever.”
“Wait.” Logan faked a look of horror, his eyes widening. “You mean you’re not driving us home?”
“No chance! This girl wants… wait, what do people drink at music festivals?”
“You’re kidding?” Logan laughed so loud that some people nearby turned their heads towards us and I ducked, hiding behind my hair. “Oops,” he said, in almost a whisper. “Sorry, but you’re such an amateur! You’ve never been to a music festival before?”
“Nope, you’re popping my festival cherry.”
I caught a sparkle in his brown eyes. “Well, they don’t serve any fancy shit.”
“What do you think I drink?” I chuckled. “I’ll happily drink beer from a bottle. I mean, they do have beer, right?”
“Yes. They have beer. And now I’m going to sulk because I’ll have to stick to Coke.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll have a beer for you too.”
Present
“All sounds positive so far,” Lydia says, taking a sip of her vodka and lemonade.
It’s two days later, the first chance I’ve had to see my best friend and tell her all that happened on the day that everything changed. We’re in one of our local pubs because, frankly, I need the fresh air after spending forty-eight hours mooching around my house with a dopey grin on my face.
Have you ever tried to hold off on sharing a memory, just because you’re scared that saying it out loud will taint it somehow? Lydia wanted to know every detail of the trip right away, but all I managed was a text saying, I’ll tell you soon xx
The thing is, when our plans changed during the course of the day, it threw me. I hadn’t expected to make so many memories, and looking back on them now is like recalling the details of a vivid, beautiful dream. I want to keep them safe, protected. I don’t want them analysed or picked apart because they’re fragile, and even the slightest question mark over the things that transpired will shatter those amazing images that play over and over in my head. To me, they are perfect.
But the best friend code states that best friends must be kept informed of all details of romantic or potential romantic situations. It’s the law.
“The journey was great,” I tell her, nodding. “You know you’re in for a good day when there’s more laughter than silence.”
She grins. “So, do you want to explain exactly how you went from, ‘We’re driving back tomorrow night’ to-”
I hold up my hands. “I will. But…”
“What?” Concern flickers in her blue eyes. I don’t mean to worry her, I’m just anxious. Anxious about sharing the memories. She’d been looking at me as if Logan and I had slipped into porno mode and spent the night going at it behind a beer tent. Not that that was beyond the realms of possibility. After all, it wasn’t as if I’d never thought about it. Not necessarily behind a beer tent, but… you know what I mean.
“Talking about this feels weird. I want to tell you everything because, let’s face it, nobody has listened to me drone on about Logan’s awesomeness more than you have. You deserve the Ultimate Bestie Award for putting up with me for so long. But also, it sort of feels like some parts of it should be kept private. Between me and him.”
“I don’t need to hear the full details if there is sex involved, Marnie.” She laughs. “But you’re right. I definitely deserve to hear the rest of this story, so keep talking!”
The Reminiscing Stage aka Everything Changes
“What the hell is going on with the weather?” Logan asked, quickly casting his eyes skyward before fixing them back on the road.
When we’d left home, the sun was shining. As we neared our destination, the clouds had grown darker, and the summer warmth had been replaced by a cool chill that made me reach into my bag for a jumper.
See, it really never hurts to be prepared.
“I’m hoping it’s just a glitch,” I said. “Maybe we’ll drive right through it.”
“We don’t have too much further to go now. About half an hour.”
I raised my eyebrows. My being prepared didn’t actually extend to an umbrella. Yes, we lived in the UK, and even in July the weather could be unpredictable, but I’d had high hopes, and visions of tanning while enjoying the music and knocking back… beers. Because that’s what people drink at festivals.
