Chapters (86)
- Title Page
- CONTENTS
- Love
- Before
- One
- ONE
- Two
- TWO
- Three
- THREE
- Four
- FOUR
- Five
- FIVE
- Six
- SIX
- Seven
- SEVEN
- Eight
- EIGHT
- Nine
- NINE
- Ten
- TEN
- Eleven
- ELEVEN
- After
- One
- ONE
- Two
- TWO
- Three
- THREE
- Four
- FOUR
- Five
- FIVE
- Six
- SIX
- Seven
- SEVEN
- Eight
- EIGHT
- Nine
- NINE
- Ten
- TEN
- Eleven
- ELEVEN
- Twelve
- TWELVE
- Thirteen
- THIRTEEN
- Fourteen
- FOURTEEN
- Fifteen
- FIFTEEN
- Sixteen
- SIXTEEN
- Seventeen
- SEVENTEEN
- Eighteen
- EIGHTEEN
- Nineteen
- NINETEEN
- Twenty
- TWENTY
- Twenty-One
- TWENTY-ONE
- Twenty-Two
- TWENTY-TWO
- Twenty-Three
- TWENTY-THREE
- Twenty-Four
- TWENTY-FOUR
- Twenty-Five
- TWENTY-FIVE
- Twenty-Six
- TWENTY-SIX
- Twenty-Seven
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- Twenty-Eight
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- Eleven Months Later
- ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
- Copyright
Now, here we are, sitting on the beach, the sea at our feet. I know now that the happiness – that thirteenth-birthday-cake happiness – didn’t go away. It’s always been there, like when you can see that the sun is shining, but you can’t feel it on your cheek. I can feel it now – I’m happy. Not just when I’m with Poppy, but on the bus to school with Adara and at night, when I’m on the edge of sleep and I can feel myself tipping. It’s just there – all the time – and whatever happens next year, I hope we remember this night, that we never, ever forget it. Even when we’re forty and all of this feels so very far away. I hope we remember that inside, we will always be the people we are tonight.
A few minutes ago, I was freezing, the tip of my nose sore from the sharp breeze coming off the sea. Now I’m burning up, my cheeks hot and my heart flickering red, like a neon VACANCY sign that I’m sure Poppy can see, even through my hoodie.
Now I’ve told my mother about her, I know what it’s like to be a normal couple, to just sit and talk without worrying who’ll see. We’re making lists of all the things we want to do next year. I let her go first, on and on until she runs out of breath. Then it’s my turn and it tumbles out of me. I don’t know whether I’m high on the promise of the New Year or the nearness of her, but I can’t say it quickly enough, the words getting on top of one another in my effort to get them out. Brighton Pride. Downstairs at Twin Pines. The Photomatic booth at Snooper’s Paradise. I don’t hold back and when I’m done, I don’t know whether I’ve told her all the things I want to do next year or made a list of all the places I want to kiss her.
We’re spent and settle into a silence I feel no urgency to fill. I can see our breath and remember that there’s talk of snow. I feel a tickle of joy at the thought of Poppy in red mittens, snowflakes melting in her hair. I know it’s cheesy, but I want that. Normal stuff. Snow angels and hot chocolate and selfies in matching scarves. Stuff from movie montages when the couple are falling in love but they don’t know it yet.
Except we do.
Or I do.
I just haven’t told her.