Page 134 of How We Began

Ben was staring at me through his long dark lashes. “Please don’t ever walk out on me like that again.”

“I won’t.” I wished he’d stop looking at me. I must have looked like some form of disgusting puffy monster with yesterday’s make-up on.

“Lilah.” Ben held my chin so I had to look at him. “You can ask me anything and I will always tell you the truth.”

I met his gaze even though my brain was attempting to escape out of my right eyeball.

“I know, Ben. It’s just I’ve this very bad visual image of you being surrounded by tall, skinny, blonde girls dressed in black underwear.”

He laughed and pulled me in. “You’re crazy.”

“I know. I’m missing lectures today.”

“I know.”

13th April

It’s Jayne’s birthday.

Jayne’s been largely absent of late due to her embarking on some crazy love affair with a guy from the football team. I’ve only met him a couple of times, and I’m not entirely sure, but I think he might be a knob.

Anyway, Jayne is trailing this guy all over campus, which is rather amusing to watch. Meredith and I frequently get emergency calls like “Quick! Meet me outside the bar. He’s just gone inside. We can make it look like a coincidence,” or “Guys! He’s on the third floor of the library. Meet me in the stairwell!” Meredith and I have started playing a juvenile game of rock paper scissors to see which one of us goes to rescue her.

Tonight we’re going out to celebrate her birthday. Sound Box are playing, which is great apart from a couple of developments.

This is the first time I have seen the band since the whole America debacle and the subsequent row, and Ben has told me (in his gentle don’t-scare-the-kitten voice) that their rep from the States is going to be there. Miranda.

It shouldn’t bother me. I know he loves me and he knows I love him. We are as set as cement.

However, let’s be honest: I’m prone to crazy-green-eyed monster behaviour and I’m trying very hard not to think about the fact that in two short months the love of my life will be leaving me to live in another country with this woman called Miranda.

No. It’s okay. I am a confident, attractive woman with a boyfriend who worships the ground I walk on. I don’t need to be worried.

14th April

Or I really bloody do.

Guess what? Miranda (pronounced Mihraandah) is six foot, blonde, skinny, and I could clearly see her black frickin’ bra through her white shirt. I didn’t think people did that these days as a look, but they do.

It started with, “Wow, Lilah, how lucky are you to have such a talented boyfriend?” said in a slow southern drawl.

“Mmm, that’s me, lucky, lucky, lucky.”

“He’s quite a catch. Girls love the guitar thing. Hope you’re keeping him sweet.”

I hesitated for a moment, unsure if I’d heard her correctly. What? As opposed to sour?

“Well, I try.”

“Those girls were going wild for him out there.”

“Really?” I bet they bloody were.

“Oh, yes, Ben definitely got a lot of positive feedback.”

What is positive feedback?

I needed a cigarette before I turned green and exploded out of my clothes. The band had only just started playing so I couldn’t escape. I decided to be a grown-up and move away from the annoying and skinny American.