Loveless (Osemanverse #10)(7)



My seven-year crush on him was entirely fabricated.

A random choice from when I was eleven, and a girl held up a photo and told me to choose a boy.

I didn’t fancy Tommy.

Apparently, I hadn’t ever fancied anyone.

I screamed. Tommy screamed. His entire arm was on fire.

He rolled over and suddenly Pip flew out of nowhere, grabbing a blanket, and falling straight on top of Tommy, stifling the flames while Tommy was saying, ‘Holy shit, holy shit,’ over and over and I was just standing over him, watching him burn.

The first thing I felt was shock. I felt frozen. Like this wasn’t really happening.

The second thing I felt was anger about my jacket.

That was my favourite fucking jacket.

I should never have given it to some boy I barely knew. Some boy I didn’t even like.

Jason was there too, asking Tommy if he was hurt, but he was sitting up and shaking his head, pulling off the ruins of my favourite jacket, looking at his unscathed arm and saying, ‘What the fuck?’ And then he stared up at me and said it again. ‘What the fuck?’

I looked down at this person I had picked at random from a photo and said, ‘I don’t like you like that. I’m really sorry. You’re nice, but I just – I don’t like you like that.’

Jason and Pip both turned to me in unison. A little crowd was starting to form, our classmates wandering outside to see what the commotion was about.

‘What the fuck?’ said Tommy a third time, before he was swarmed by his friends, coming to see if he was OK.

I was just staring at him thinking, that was my fucking jacket and seven years and I never liked you at all.

‘Georgia,’ said Pip. She was next to me, pulling on my arm. ‘I think it’s time to go home.’





‘I never liked him,’ I said in the car as we pulled up outside Pip’s house and I cut the engine. Pip was next to me. Jason was in the back. ‘Seven years and I just lied to myself the whole time.’

They were both being weirdly silent. Like they didn’t know what to say. In a horrible way, I almost blamed them. Pip, anyway. She’d been the one pushing me to do this. She’d been teasing me about Tommy for seven years.

No, that was unfair. This wasn’t her fault.

‘This is my fault,’ I said.

‘I don’t understand,’ said Pip, gesturing wildly. She was still fairly tipsy. ‘You … you’ve had a crush on him for years.’ Her voice got quieter. ‘This was your … your big chance.’

I started laughing.

It’s wild how long you can trick yourself. And everyone around you.

The door to Pip’s house opened, revealing her parents in matching dressing gowns. Manuel and Carolina Quintana were just another of the perfectly-in-love, incredibly-romantic-backstory couples I knew. Carolina, who’d grown up in Popayán, Colombia, and Manuel, who’d grown up in London, met when Manuel went to visit his dying grandma in Popayán when he was seventeen. Carolina was literally the girl next door, and the rest was history. These things just happened.

‘I’ve never had a crush on anyone in my entire life,’ I said. It was all sinking in. I’d never had a crush on anyone. No boys, no girls, not a single person I had ever met. What did that mean? Did it mean anything? Or was I just doing life wrong? Was there something wrong with me? ‘Can you believe that?’

There was a pause again, before Pip said, ‘Well, s’fine. S’fine, man. You know you’ll find someone –’

‘Don’t say it,’ I said. ‘Please do not say it.’

So she didn’t.

‘You know, the idea – the idea of it is nice. The idea of liking Tommy and kissing Tommy and having some cute little moment by the fire after prom. That’s so nice. That’s what I wanted.’ I felt myself clench the steering wheel. ‘But the reality disgusts me.’

They didn’t say anything. Even Pip, who’d always been a chatty drunk. Even my best friends couldn’t think of a single comforting word.

‘Well … This has been a good night, right?’ Pip slurred as she stumbled out of my car. She held the front passenger door open and pointed dramatically at me, the streetlamps reflecting in her glasses. ‘You. Very good. Outstanding. And you –’ she prodded Jason in the chest as he moved into the front seat – ‘excellent. Really excellent work.’

‘Drink water,’ said Jason, patting her on the head.

We watched her walk up to her front door and get gently chastised by her mum for being drunk. Her dad waved at us, and we waved back, and then I started the engine and we drove away. It could have been a good night. It could have been the best night of my life, if I’d actually had a crush on Tommy.

The next stop was Jason’s. He lived in a house built by his dads, who were both architects. Rob and Mitch had met at university – they were doing the same course – and ended up competing for the same architecture apprenticeship. Rob won, which he claims he earned, but Mitch always claims he let Rob win because he liked him.

When we arrived, I said, ‘Most people our age have kissed someone.’

And he said, ‘That doesn’t matter.’

But I knew it did. It mattered. It was not random that I was the one who was falling behind. Everything that had happened that night was a sign that I needed to try harder, or I would be alone for the rest of my life.

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