How Hard Can Love Be? Page 6

  “Melody, you don’t have to do that. That’s what resuscitation Annie is for.”

  “Yeah, but it’s much better to practise with a real body, don’t you think?” she giggled.

  Watersports certainly seemed to agree.

  I scuffed my shoe in the dusty grass, and focused, yet again, on not being sick. All twenty of us were on our compulsory first-aid part of training day. In the already strong sunshine, it seemed we’d be the ones who needed first aid for heat exhaustion…or maybe that was just hungover me.

  Whinnie sidled up next to me. “You okay, Amber? You look a little…green.”

  I nodded, concentrating on getting through the wave of nausea.

  “Was I bad last night?” I whispered. I’d only just met her, but she seemed like the safest, nicest, person to ask. When she made a cooing reassuring sound I knew I was right.

  “You were fine,” she said. “Everyone got pretty wasted after you left anyway. Melody and some of the others ended up skinny-dipping.”

  That wasn’t a surprise. I’d only met Melody yesterday and it wasn’t a surprise.

  “Really?” I asked. “Who else did it?”

  “Umm, a few of the girls…like Bryony. Did you meet her? The jock guys…” As she was talking, Kyle and Russ came up behind us. Whinnie turned to them. “You didn’t, did you, Russ?”

  Russ shook his head. “Skinny-dip? Nope.” He punched Kyle’s shoulder. “I didn’t want to make all the other guys jealous. Especially Kyle here.”

  Kyle thumped him back. “Dude, we share a shower. I’ve seen it all.”

  “Yeah, and you cried afterwards.”

  Whinnie gave me a “boys” look. I smiled and returned it, distracting myself from my headache for a short moment.

  “Did you do it?” I asked Kyle. And annoyingly I felt myself blushing at the thought of him naked.

  He stretched his arms up and nodded, like it was nothing.

  “I grew up in the middle of nowhere mountains. Skinny-dipping was the only thing we had to do at the weekend. Why, you don’t do it in the UK?”

  I blushed harder as I wondered if he was now thinking of me naked, as I was him. I shook my head. “If you skinny-dipped in England, you’d get frostbite of the dangly bits.”

  They all cracked up, and my face got even redder.

  “I don’t even want to know how you know that,” Kyle said.

  “I don’t know it for sure!” I protested. “It’s just a theory. I’ve never had any dangly bits to test it on…” I needed to stop talking. All three of them were laughing uncontrollably now, so much so we attracted the attention of Kevin and his bumchin.

  “Guys!” he said, clapping his hands to startle us out of it. “This isn’t a playground. This training could save someone’s life. Come on, Amber. Let’s teach everyone how to put someone in the recovery position.”

  Melody and Watersports were standing up now, and Kevin jutted his hand out, to pull me to the centre.

  “Now, Amber, let’s have you demonstrate. Lie down on the ground here.”

  He smiled, like he was doing me a massive favour by putting everyone’s attention on me. I happily – despite him – lolled onto the earth and closed my eyes. It felt nice. It calmed my churning stomach.

  “Who wants to help? Kyle? You wanna put Amber into the recovery position?”

  “Be careful of her dangly bits,” Whinnie said, only loud enough so I could hear her, and I giggled with my eyes shut.

  I felt my face get cast into shadow as Kyle stepped forward to follow Kevin’s instructions.

  “Now, Kyle, if you just kneel next to Amber, and gently put the arm nearest to you up at a right angle…”

  I felt his fingers touch my skin and I almost jolted away at the shock of it. His hands were warm, his skin a little rough. He picked up my hand and put it back onto the earth. I breathed in as deeply as I could. I realized this was the first time a guy had ever held my hand…and he was putting me into the recovery position. I was pathetic.

  “That’s good…now pick up her other hand and place it onto her cheek. The side of her face that’s nearest to you.”

  I braced myself for the physical contact this time, but it still felt stupidly nice as he touched me again.

  “You all right there, patient?” Kyle asked softly. I opened one eye up at him, hardly able to see him against the sun.

  “This is really helping my hangover,” I whispered, and he laughed.

  Kevin tutted. “Come on, Amber, you’re supposed to be unconscious.”

  I closed my eyes again and let his words flow over me, making myself floppy so Kyle could manoeuvre me easily.

  I didn’t need to be taught how to do the recovery position.

  I’d had to do it myself, on my mum. When I was thirteen and Dad dared to go away for the weekend and leave us. She’d passed out on the kitchen floor and I was worried she’d choke on her vomit. I’d had to Google it, and follow the directions of a YouTube video.

  I never told Dad what happened though… In case this was the thing that tipped him over the edge. The thing that made him leave.

  Didn’t matter. He left anyway. Less than a year later. Wrenching me with him.

  Later I’d figured out he’d been with Penny that weekend.

  SITUATIONS THAT ARE DESTINED TO FAIL:

  A webcam

  +

  My sunburn

  +

  The slowest internet connection EVER

  Eight

  Evie and Lottie waved madly at me – Lottie jumping up and down with excitement.

  “Hello, traveller,” they called. “We are here from Planet Skype, to serve your insatiable need for sarcasm.”

  I wanted to reach into the computer monitor and yank them both through the screen, dragging them into America with me. I was sitting in the corner of Kevin’s cabin, sweating into my vest-top and feeling so far away from them. It had been a HORRID day of training. Horrid mainly due to my honking hangover combined with lectures on pus and blisters and blood. I’d given myself a break – for aftersun application, and much-needed girlie catch-up time.

  “I miss you guys so much!” I yelled, jumping in my chair, high off seeing them.

  Lottie and Evie beamed back. Their faces were all pixelated and smudgy. Lottie’s eyes were just two black holes. The slow connection obviously couldn’t adequately process her copious amounts of eyeliner.

  “We miss you too.” Lottie’s voice warped in the high pitch of her squeal. “Though your face scares me. I want to courier an industrial vat of aftersun over to you.”

  I touched my burned red face sheepishly. I could feel the heat from it on the back of my hand.

  “I promise, on all of the Buddhas, that I used factor 50. I just didn’t realize I’d have to apply it every ten minutes.”

  Lottie burst out laughing.

  “Hey, it’s not funny. It hurts!”

  “Oh, but it is.”

  “You still look beautiful,” Evie said. “… It matches your hair.”

  “HEY!”

  They both giggled themselves into a frenzy and I had to sigh and wait it out.

  “So how ARE you?” Lottie demanded, after she’d recovered. Her hair was all scooped up on top of her head and she pushed her kohl-covered eyes right up into the webcam. “What the blazes is happening over there in America? You having fun?”

  I nodded. Shook my head, then nodded again.

  “Uh oh,” Lottie said. “Tell me everything.”

  This was why I loved them – their constant ability to know when something was up. “No, it’s great,” I said semi-honestly. “It’s so pretty here, and all the other counsellors are okay. REALLY American, but friendly and stuff. I’ve had basic training all day. In the sun, as you can see… The children aren’t arriving until tomorrow…”

  Evie pushed towards the screen. “How about things with your mum?” she asked quietly.

  I did my nod-shake thing again.

  “Okay. Well, not
really. But not bad, it’s so weird…” I trailed off. “Is it okay if we don’t talk about it?”

  They looked at each other and nodded.

  I changed the subject. “Did I tell you they made me get resuscitated by people? With a hangover! I thought I was going to die. Last night there was this welcome campfire party and I drank too much. A headache in altitude is, like, worse than listening to Joel’s band with a migraine.”

  They laughed. Joel’s this guy from back home, the boyfriend of Evie’s old best friend, Jane. He’s in the world’s worst band ever – death metal, with added lack of talent.

  “So…” Lottie’s head loomed close again. “Have you met any American HUNKS?”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “I hope you saw that eye-roll. It is destined for you. Never has an eye-roll been so destined for you.”

  Lottie pretended to catch it, like it was a blown kiss. “What? I’m only asking.”

  “Well, yes. There are American guys here. Some could be classified as ‘hunks’, I guess…” Water sports guy would definitely qualify. Maybe Kyle. Though we’d spent all of training today talking about how he loved reading biographies – that wasn’t typically “hunky”.

  “I want a hunk!” Lottie said. “I’m getting on a plane now.”

  My stomach dropped, even though I knew she was joking. If Lottie was here, all the “hunks” would’ve swarmed to her – like bees to a honeypot made of the juice of a thousand genetically-modified rose petals.

  Evie interrupted, with reason as always.

  “Amber’s not there to go boy hunting though, is she? She’s there to see her mum.” Evie sighed. “Anyway, aren’t we supposed to be having a Spinster Club meeting? Isn’t objectifying men as ‘hunks’ slightly counterproductive?”

  Lottie and I smiled at each other through the webcam.

  “Right you are, Evie,” I said. “What’s the topic of discussion for today? It has to be quick. They’re threatening another campfire later.”

  Evie’s head ducked down and reappeared with some notes. “I thought I’d choose a transatlantic theme.” She coughed, in a fake announcement. “Ladies: America or England – which is the most sexist country?”

  I grinned and Lottie gasped. “You can’t do that, Evie!”

  “Why not?” Evie asked.

  “Because America and England aren’t allowed to battle each other. We’re, like, proper mates. We watch the same TV and fought together in World War Two.”

  “That’s why I picked it,” Evie said. “Because we think we’re so similar. It would be too easy a fight if we compared England to, say, I dunno, a super repressed country where women can’t go to school or vote, or drive or whatever.”

  I nodded. “Makes sense to me.”

  Lottie shrugged. “Okay, then. Fine. Break the special relationship.”

  “I will.” Evie shuffled her cards. “So, Amber, as you’re over there, you have to argue America’s corner. Lottie, you can defend the UK. And I’ll flit about in the middle of the debate being Switzerland.”

  Lottie put her hand up, like she was in school. “Okay okay okay, I’ve got the perfect start. The UK is better at feminism because we’ve had a female prime minister.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Does Margaret Thatcher count? She hated the word ‘feminist’ and basically only had men on her cabinet.”

  “At least she had the right junk,” Lottie argued.

  “Is that what we’re calling genitalia now? Junk?”

  “Okay, she HAD A MASSIVE VAGINA.” And we all crumpled into laughter. Just as I was about to point out that gender is so much more than biology, I heard the door of the cabin slam. I jumped.

  “Why are you always screaming the word ‘vagina’?”

  It was Kyle’s voice. I whipped around. Him, Russ and Whinnie stood in the doorway – looking equally perplexed and amused.

  “Oh my God, guys. I’m…erm…I’m online speaking to my friends back home.”

  Lottie’s face was immediately right up on the screen.

  “LET ME MEET YOU, AMERICAN ONES,” she yelled.

  I beckoned them in. “Come on, they’re umm…a bit excited. We’re having a meeting.”

  Kyle raised an eyebrow. “A meeting?”

  “A VAGINA MEETING,” Lottie cackled.

  “Lottie, shut up!” I stage-whispered.

  The Americans stepped nervously into the sitting room, looking around. I guessed it was weird for them, being in their bosses’ house.

  “HELLO, HANDSOME,” Lottie’s voice boomed from the speakers. She’d clocked both Russ and Kyle as they stepped into view of the camera.

  I covered the camera with my hand. “Ignore her…she’s… erm…drunk…”

  “I’M NOT DRUNK.”

  “Girls,” I hissed into the computer’s ancient microphone. “I need to go do camp stuff.”

  “Noooooo,” I heard Lottie yell, but I waved bye and turned off the computer as quickly as I could.

  “They your friends?” Kyle nodded towards the now-blank screen.

  “Yeah, we were just…umm…what are you guys doing here, anyway?”

  Russ was already picking stuff up off the table, reading Mum’s Mind and Spirit magazine upside-down and pulling a face.

  Whinnie answered.

  “You’re in our group. For the welcome show tonight. We all have to put on a little performance for everyone.”

  I closed my eyes slowly. Performing… I hated performing.

  “Really? Do I have to?”

  Kyle smiled as he nodded. “We all have to.” He didn’t look bothered at all. “Now, are you going to explain why your computer was yelling rude words?”

  I sighed, cursing Lottie.

  “Let me get my stuff, then I’ll fill you in.”

  I put on some flip-flops, and rubbed more suncream in, then followed Kyle and Russ into the forest. They said there was a clearing outside their cabins which would make a good place to practise.

  “Practise what?” Whinnie asked. “We don’t know what we’re going to do yet.”

  “How about a silent protest?” I suggested. They ignored me.

  I still wasn’t used to the heat and just the walk there was tough. I could feel my hair expanding to three times its normal volume.

  “So when you going to explain to us, Amber?” Kyle teased.

  I shot him a look. “My friends and I back home, we…well… We have this like women’s rights group. And we were having a meeting using modern technology.”

  I pushed past some ferns and scratched my leg.

  “You’re in a women’s rights group?” Russ asked.

  “Yes. It’s awesome. You should join one.”

  “I think I’m okay, thanks.”

  “What was your meeting about?” Whinnie walked right beside me, and she seemed genuinely interested rather than taking the piss.

  “We were chatting about America actually. They wanted us to argue over who has the best women’s rights – England, or you guys.”

  “Are you kidding?” Whinnie’s eyes went all big behind her glasses. “It’s totally your country. Do you, like, know what they’re doing with abortion law over here?”

  I shook my head. “Not good?”

  She shook her head. “Muchly not good.”

  “Well, I’ll let them know. And, jeez, I’m sorry.”

  She gave me a huge grin. “It’s okay. We’re protesting about it on college campus. We won’t let them win.”

  I found myself high-fiving her – America was already rubbing off on me.

  “You all right, Kyle?” I asked. He’d gone all quiet on the walk.

  “Yeah…fine…” He trailed off. I hoped he wasn’t a secret chauvinist.

  We stepped out into a clearing framed by two cabins. They were both so sweet, it looked like a scene out of a fairy tale.

  “Welcome to Casa Awesome,” Russ said.

  Whinnie and I shared a look, and I knew we both had the same idea at the same time. We r
an into the sunshine, past a circle of stones, and flung open one of the doors.

  “Stop them,” Russ yelled, but it was too late.

  “Eww,” Whinnie said, as she stood next to me in the doorway.

  “That. Is. Disgusting,” I agreed.

  The inside was a mess. Smelly boy clothes were flung all over the empty bunks, a half-eaten packet of crisps (or potato chips) was scattered over the sheets. It stank of stale boy stench…

  “Oi,” Russ said, catching up with us. “It’s not fair that you’re snooping.”

  I turned to face him. “Russ? Seriously? You’ve only been here a few days! How is it so gross? And how are you going to tidy it before the children get here?”

  He looked suitably ashamed of himself.

  “Kyle said he’s going to help me.”

  Kyle arrived at the door. “Well, that’s not true, is it? I said I’d keep you company while you tidy.”

  Russ’s face darkened. “Well, some of us aren’t anally neat like you.”

  “Kyle’s…tidy?” I asked.

  Whinnie caught my eye and we shared another thought in unison.

  “Let’s see!” she yelled, and we both ran into the other cabin – the boys flinging themselves after us.

  We burst through the door of the other cabin, just as Kyle caught me by pulling on the back of my T-shirt.

  I stopped in my tracks.

  “Wow, your cabin is like crazy tidy,” I said. “What the hell happened to make you so neat?”

  Kyle had made up all the beds to military precision. His belongings were aligned in perfect angles around his bunk. There was even a plastic cup filled with flowers on the window sill. It was almost as tidy as Evie’s room back home – though Evie’s tidiness didn’t have much to do with her OCD. She was just neat, and thought I was a slob…

  He tried not to look embarrassed but his blush gave him away.

  “Duuuude,” Russ said. “My mum would want to adopt you. How do you keep it so clean?”

  He shrugged. “I have a lot of siblings. If we were all messy back home, we’d live in utter squalor.”

  I walked further into the cabin, liking how it smelled. All clean and fresh with an underhint of mint. From Kyle’s bodywash, I guessed.

  “How are you going to cope when the kids turn up and trash the place?” Whinnie asked.