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He nods and chuckles, “Articulate as ever, Amber French,” but then takes a pause before lifting my chin with our joined hands and making me meet his gaze. “Remember that first day in the snow when I said I thought this could be something?” He looks at me questioningly and I nod. “I don’t think it. I know it.”
Bam. There goes my heart.
This is something. It’s some kind love. Scary and real. Intense and unexpected. I know somewhere deep inside that no matter what happens, no matter where this goes, a little bit of me will always love him, right up until the day I die, and then during whatever comes next.
Freddy glances at his watch, and his mega grin and dancing eyes light up his serious expression. “Happy birthday, Amber French,” he whispers, and my heart melts to fit around his endearment.
When my bedroom door flies open, it makes me give a screech of surprise. I’m a bit tired and grouchy from being up all night. The romance thing is great, but it does make me a bad-tempered bunny the next day. Actually, it makes me a psychotic bunny the next day.
I’ve had a delightful breakfast with Mum and Dad where they pretended for half an hour they weren’t furiously mad at my strike for independence, which includes a mini break away with a boy.
“Happy birthday, Bitch!” Dani stands on the threshold to my room, a bag swinging in her hands.
“What’s up, fuckface?” I fire back our common greeting. We both stand awkwardly, making it painfully clear that neither of us know how to act. I jig about a bit, uncomfortably, until I break the silence with, “What are you doing here?”
Dani strops past me and drops the bag on the bed. “Well, it’s my best friend’s eighteenth birthday, but she hasn’t spoken to me in days. I was beginning to think it was a lost cause when out of the blue I got a call from her boyfriend asking me to meet him here at…” She checks her watch. “Now.”
“Oh.”
“Oh.” She shrugs and perches herself on the end of the bed. I follow suit and both of us sit there as awkward as strangers in a sauna.
At least five minutes passes, and Freddy doesn’t turn up. When another five minutes has passed, I know he’s pulled a fast one.
“I don’t think he’s coming,” I say.
“Nope, me neither.” Dani pulls the bag towards her and then thrusts it into my lap. “Here, these are for you.”
“Presents for me?” I’m not feigning my shock, although judging from the narrow-eyed glare Dani gives me, I’m also coming cross as a tad sarcastic. “I’m being serious. I wasn’t even expecting to see you, let alone get pressies.” Excitedly, I cross my legs on the bed. Dani jumps up and we sit knee to knee as we always have.
“Just because I’m frustrated with you, doesn’t mean I’m not your best friend anymore, you dipstick.”
“Frustrated? Frustrated? Jeez have you been stewing on that?”
Dani giggles with a shake of her head. “Yeah, maybe, obviously I meant seriously arsed off.”
“That’s better! Frustrated! That’s so funny.” I start to tip a bundle of presents out of the bag and pick up the smallest first.
“No, not that one. That one’s last.” Dani grabs it and tucks it under her bum.
“Don’t you fart on it.”
‘Gross. Come on, Amber, get opening.”
So I do. There are our usual gifts of smellies, face stuff, make-up, fluffy socks, all the norm, and I squeal over them all. Second to last, I open a soft package that contains a white t-shirt. On the front in big letters it says “My Boyfriend’s Hot!” I start to giggle hysterically, tears escaping out of my eyes. “He so is,” I confirm.
“Yeah, yeah. We all know you bagged a hot one. Turn it over,” she insists. I do and on the back is a Post-It note with Dani’s slanted loops scrawled across it. “. . .and my best friend is jealous.” I pull the sticky note off the t-shirt.
“Dani,” I exclaim. “You’re my best friend. You don’t have anyone to be jealous of.”
She reaches her hand for mine. “I know, Amber. It’s just I thought as we were both so crap with guys, we would both be stuck together, at least until we got to uni and our luck hopefully changed. I guess it took me by surprise when your luck changed quicker than mine.”
“Dani,” I start to try to interrupt her, but she holds up her hand.
“I don’t want you to regret the choices you make now, but I will support you in them. That’s what friends do. And when you’re fed up and married with kids in ten years time, I will make sure to remind you of my words of advice.” She starts to giggle as I pounce on her and tickle her in between her ribs.
“He’s hot though, isn’t he? Admit it!” I squeal.
“Yes, yes, he’s hot!” she agrees, although under duress. “Here, last one.” She pulls the small packet out from under her and hands it to me.
