Loveless(33)

‘You’re going on your date?’ Rooney asked, just as I was about to leave our room on Saturday afternoon, about ten minutes before we’d agreed to meet. She looked my outfit up and down.

‘Yes?’ I said, looking at myself.

I was just wearing my normal clothes – mom jeans, a cropped woolly jumper, and my coat. I thought I looked quite good, actually, in my usual sort of cosy bookseller way. We were only going for ice cream, for God’s sake.

‘You look cute,’ said Rooney, and I felt like she really did mean it.

‘Thanks.’

‘Are you looking forward to it?’

I actually hadn’t really been looking forward to it. I guessed this was due to nerves. Everyone gets nervous about a first date. And I was very nervous. I knew that I needed to chill out and be myself, and if I didn’t feel that spark after a while then we just weren’t meant to be.

But I also knew that this was a chance for me to actually experience romance and be someone who has fun, quirky experiences and doesn’t die alone.

No pressure, I guess.

‘Pistachio,’ said Jason, looking at my choice of ice cream as we sat down at a table. He was wearing his teddy-bear jacket again, which I loved for its sense of familiarity and cosiness. ‘I forgot that you’re literally a disgusting gremlin when it comes to ice cream.’

The café was cute, tiny and decorated with pastel colours and flowers. I admired Jason for suggesting it. It was straight out of a romance novel.

I glanced at his selection of ice cream. ‘Vanilla, though? When they had cookies-and-cream?’

‘Don’t bash vanilla. Vanilla is a classic.’ He popped a spoonful into his mouth and grinned.

I raised my eyebrows. ‘I forgot how basic you are.’

‘I’m not basic!’

‘It’s a basic choice. That’s all I’m saying.’

We sat at our little round table in the ice-cream café and talked for an hour.

We talked about university for most of that. Jason explained that his history lectures were already a bit dull, and I lamented about the length of my reading lists. Jason admitted that he didn’t think the drinking-clubbing lifestyle was really for him, and I said I felt the same. We spent a long time talking about how we both felt Freshers’ Week was a monumental let-down – marketed to be the best week of your whole university life, only to turn out to be a week of endless drinking, visiting gross clubs and failing to make real friends.

Eventually conversation dwindled a little, because we’d known each other for years, and we’d already had dozens, if not hundreds, of deep chats. We were already at the point where silence didn’t feel awkward. We knew each other.

But we didn’t know how to do this.

Be romantic.

Date.

‘So this is weird, isn’t it?’ said Jason. We’d long since finished our ice cream.

I was leaning on my hand, elbow on the table. ‘What’s weird?’

Jason looked down. A little embarrassed. ‘Well … the fact that we’re … you know … doing this.’

Oh. Yeah.

‘It’s …’ I didn’t really know what to say. ‘I guess it is. A bit.’

Jason kept his eyes firmly down, not looking at me. ‘I’ve been thinking about it all week and I just … I mean, I didn’t even know you might like me like that.’

Neither had I. But then I had no idea what ‘liking someone like that’ was even supposed to feel like. If it was going to be with anyone, it was probably going to be with him.

His voice grew a little quieter and he smiled awkwardly, like he didn’t want me to see how nervous he was. ‘Are you just doing this because of what Rooney said when we all went out that night?’

I sat up a little. ‘No, no – well, I mean, maybe a little bit? I think her saying it made me properly, um … realise that I wanted to. So … I guess I started thinking about it after that, and … yeah. It just felt like … I guess it just felt right.’

Jason nodded, and I hoped I’d made sense.

I just needed to be honest. Jason was my best friend. I needed to make this work and do it at my own pace.

I loved Jason. I knew I could be honest with him.

‘You know I’ve never done this before,’ I said.

He nodded again. Understanding. ‘I know.’

‘I … want to go slow.’

He went a little red. ‘Yeah. Of course.’

‘I like you,’ I said. At least I thought I did. I might have if I tried, if I encouraged it, if I pretended it was real until it was. ‘I mean, I-I think I could – I want to give this a chance, and I don’t want to regret anything when I’m on my deathbed.’

‘OK.’

‘I just don’t really know what I’m doing. Like. Theoretically, yes, but in practice … no.’

‘OK. That’s OK.’

‘OK.’ I think I was going a bit red too. My cheeks felt hot. Was it because I felt flustered around Jason or because this whole thing was a bit awkward to talk about?

‘I don’t mind going slow,’ said Jason. ‘Like, all my romantic experiences until now have been a bit shit.’

I knew all about Jason’s past romantic experiences. I knew about his first kiss with a girl he thought he really liked, but the kiss was so terrible it actually put him off doing it again. And I knew about the girlfriend he’d had for five months when we were in Year 13 – Aimee, who went to our youth theatre group. Aimee was kind of annoying in a Jason is my property and I don’t like anyone else hanging out with him sort of way, and Pip and I never liked her, but Jason was happy for a little while, so we supported the relationship.