Page 29 of How We Began

“Wow, she really doesn’t take no for an answer, does she?” Meredith said eventually.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “No is just a word you mutter until you give in and say yes.”

Meredith squeezed my hand and lent her hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too. I can’t believe they think I’m going to fail.” Okay, so half the time I think I’m going to fail, but that’s me. I’m allowed to have those thoughts about myself.

“I don’t,” she assured me.

“No?”

“Nah, it would take something epic for you to back out now.”

PART THREE

November

5th November

Fireworks Night

Poor Guy Fawkes! There he was, part of a gang planning to bring down parliament using over-sized fireworks. A plan that failed spectacularly, yet he is the only one who gets plonked on top of a bonfire year in, year out. That’s history, though it only really ever remembers the names that it wants to. Everyone else gets lost in dusty, boring textbooks, much like the ones that I am being forced to read these days.

I feel a bit like Guy Fawkes. Well, I’ve been creating some banging *excuse the pun* fireworks with Ben.

Mum freaked me out last week at Harvey Nics. She was seriously not listening to a single word I said.

Perhaps the problem is that I’ve not actually explained to them what my life is like here.

Ben and I are living this bizarre co-existing lifestyle. Sometimes I stay in his room; sometimes he stays in mine. Every morning he makes me coffee. He assures me he is happy with this role due to the fact my coffee and tea tastes like pee. Which was rude, but I let him off after an unexpected orgasm while I was reading us aloud the chapter on Spartans.

We never talk about anything serious, and never, ever mention my family. I know he’s told his mum about me, he told me outright he can’t keep secrets from her. So it’s just me, living my little secret double life.

My parents wouldn’t get it. They are all about assets and transactions and how much things cost and what’s the long-term investment. The gain for the pain.

I have never had this before with anyone. I never thought of any place as a ‘shared home’. Sure I share with Tristan, but that’s just a sibling necessity because Dad paid for it.

I do realise now how easy my life was before I came to uni. Dad paid for things, gave me a job. Nothing about it was independence. Even the flat in Putney wasn’t necessarily what I would have chosen for myself.

I’ve never had the capacity to choose anything, always being steam-rolled into things… come on, Lilah, be a good girl and do what you’re told.

I can’t be her anymore.

This thing with Ben, we hardly know each other, not really, a couple of months but it’s got forever stamped on it. I can’t help but wonder if it is too easy. When I’m laughing with Ben or we are quiet and sitting on one of beds studying together, feet pressed against each other’s… my dad is in my head saying; won’t be long now, Lilah. Soon you’re going to mess up and run.

We are leaving in a few minutes for the fireworks display. It is raining hard, so I reckon old Guy Fawkes might get a lucky escape this year.

6th November

Okay, I need to get a grip. I have got one month to finish four essays, otherwise the Christmas holiday will be a complete write-off.

Uh, Christmas holiday. I can’t think of anything worse. The way things are going, I’ll still be doing my chicken act and lying about my love life. I’ll have to go home to Mum and Dad’s for Christmas where I’ll be forlorn and drunk and missing Ben. It’s not even like I could ask him. Oh hey, Parentals, this is Ben, the man I haven’t told you about, we’ve been fucking like rabbits and I’m pretty sure I’ve fallen in love with him, based purely on his bacon sandwiches alone. Oh, and he plays guitar for a living.

I can’t do this anymore.

I need to make a stand. I’ve got to be strong and stand up for my own life, my own future.

I’m not going to fail.