“Forecast says it’ll be over thirty-five every day, babe – you’ll need at least factor thirty.”
I froze, then slowly squatted down behind the shelves, not that they could see me over the top anyway, but being lower down made me feel more hidden.
“So, I’m not gonna get a tan, then?”
“You’re so pale though, babe… No, get the spray stuff, it’s easier.”
I didn’t want them to see me because it would have been awkward, right? Awkward because last year we all went on holiday together – Annie’s parents rented a villa in Spain, and they let me and Will stay in the spare room for free. That was before Annie and Will got together and everything was normal. It was when I stupidly hoped I might be in with a chance with Will, even though he was a straight boy (*slaps forehead repeatedly*), and that maybe at some point over the ten nights we would be sharing a bedroom, he would finally open up to me about his confused feelings towards other boys, and ideally me specifically.
Well, that didn’t happen.
All that did happen over those ten nights is that Will talked a lot about how much he fancied Annie, and I spent a lot of time locked in the bathroom, relieving myself of all the stress.
I’m sorry, that’s probably too much information.
But anyway, they became a couple and they had clearly decided they wanted to do couple things and there was no space for me any more. And there in the chemist’s, that was the exact moment I realized that my long-anticipated glorious summer after finishing GCSEs, just hanging with my mates, with no worries and nothing to do except mess about in whatever sun the fickle English summer deigned to throw our way, was totally wrecked.
But before I had a chance to contemplate the car crash of my summer any further, it got worse:
“We really need to tell Alex,” Annie said.
“Yeah, but what do we say, though?” I could imagine Will flapping about awkwardly, avoiding her eyes, not wanting this conversation, because that’s what Will does. That was one of the main reasons we became friends – he hates talking as much as I do. We could literally sit for hours, in total silence, playing video games, and we’d both be happy as pigs in shit.
“Well, we gotta say something,” she said. “He thinks we’re all gonna be hanging the whole summer, so it’s not fair on him.” She paused and sighed. “Poor Alex.”
Poor Alex?! I was actually frozen to the spot at this point, because now I was some sort of charity case. I was a person to feel sorry for. Don’t get me wrong, I am well aware of my own terrible plight – I’ve lived my constantly disappointing life for a full sixteen years now, so I’m well acquainted with the damp squib that is my existence, but for OTHER PEOPLE to also know this?! It was mortifying.
I had to get out of there before they discovered me behind the shelf, and before I heard any more devastating revelations. If I worked my way back towards the far left corner of the store, I was probably safe. I could hover there, pretend to look at stuff, and wait until they’d gone. I stood up, and my eyes met those of the security guard, who was watching me from the end of the aisle. I grabbed a bottle of “Hydro Force Power Wash – With Active Carbon” (why do they think guys require this level of industrial cleaning?), to try to show I wasn’t a shoplifter, and I scurried off along the aisle, something hot and unpleasant pumping through my veins. Poor Alex. Poor Alex. Were they just hanging out with me because they felt bad for me? Like the kid picked last for a sports team, was I just a burden they were reluctantly letting join in? I couldn’t believe that’s what they thought of me. I couldn’t believe Will hadn’t told me about the secret holiday. I couldn’t believe how … empty this whole thing had made me feel. Yes, I get that people find love. It’s not that I begrudge them that. I just don’t see why that suddenly means friends have to be excluded, like you can’t be part of their little gang any more. It would have been nice to go on holiday with them again. I wouldn’t have been any trouble. I never am. I’ve even got that in writing on one of my reports, from Mrs Harper, history: “He’s not any trouble.”
I must have been on autopilot, because I unexpectedly arrived, breathless, at the checkouts, with a basket stacked high with random products I must have picked off the shelves as I stormed past. I didn’t know what the hell I’d been doing, or even how long I’d been doing it, but the security guard was watching again, so I must have been acting pretty weird.
Also, I was very confident there was no way I’d have enough money in my account to pay for all this. But, nevertheless, there I was. Trying anyway.
A blonde girl, face thick with foundation – “I’m Dolly – here to help!” – gave me a half-hearted smile. “Do you want a carrier?”
Whilst the obvious answer would have been yes due to the volume of goods I’d acquired, the five-pence charge she would have added for the carrier could have been the straw that broke the camel’s back, financially. “No,” I said, with as much confidence as I could manage, like I could deal with this. Like the carrying situation was in hand. “No carrier.”
She looked at me doubtfully and started scanning the items through the till.
“Alex?”
I froze. It was Will’s voice. Right behind me.
“Will?!” I said, with too much surprise, because it was clearly him, holding a basket of goods in a shop in the town where we both live, so his being there shouldn’t have been that shocking.
Will nodded at me. “Cool, man,” he said, pushing his free hand through his dark brown hair. He was looking less skinny than usual. Like he’d been going to the gym. I tried not to look too much.
“I’m just in the chemist,” Will said. “Getting some … stuff.”
I glanced at his basket – several bottles of suntan lotion, after sun, eye masks, inflatable travel pillows and those little miniature toiletries you can take through airport security. I flicked my eyes up to him, because if he was going to tell me about how he was going on holiday without me, this would probably have been the time – what with all the evidence and all.
But he bottled it. “Annie’s here, actually… I think she’s … looking at shampoo.”
“Yeah, shampoo’s … good,” I said. “Hair.”
“Hair. Right! Ha! So … Alex … you got plans for the summer?”
OK, so here it was. This was the lead-up. I couldn’t tell him the truth, which was “nothing”, because it sounded utterly pathetic. And I couldn’t say “doing stuff with you guys” because it sounded too needy, and anyway, I knew I wouldn’t be doing that now.
And as annoyed as I was, Will and Annie were also friends, and I didn’t want to make them feel bad.
I blew out a breath. “Loads,” I said.
“Cool…” Will nodded, clearly expecting more. Expecting details.
“What about you?” I said. Deflection – my favourite tactic.
Will nodded. “Hey, maybe later in the summer we should all go to a festival or something.”
I noted his use of the word “later”. This was Will’s way of telling me he wouldn’t be around during the first part. I should probably have considered myself told at this point.