Page 79 of Unnecessary Drama

‘Okay, so if you make them younger—’

‘Which I have decided I will do,’ I say. I thought about it a lot in bed last night, in part as a way to stop myself replaying the real-life couch scene between Jesse and me over and over. I worried it would be like when I play a song I love over and over, or watch one scene of a show over and over, and I strip all the pleasure from it. I need to keep the pleasure of the couch memory because who knows how long it will be before I kiss anyone like that again. It might never feel that good again in my life. And thinking of our night on the couch was also getting my feelings all scrambled and making me deeply regret saying the words ‘we can’t be together’ even though we obviously can’t be together. So I focused on my story, and as much as I resisted the idea of changing the characters’ ages, it suddenly clicked into place and I saw he was right. Damn him.

‘Ah, see. I am a genius,’ he says.

‘Okay, calm down. It was one good suggestion.’

‘Genius. Say it. Gee-nee-us.’

‘Don’t make me regret letting you read it,’ I say.

‘I have plenty more ideas, so get ready for your mind to be blown,’ he says, grinning.

We talk about the story more, and laugh, and I start taking notes in my phone. Some of his ideas are terrible, some are just things he’s saying to make me laugh, but some are pretty good. The most important thing is that I feel the spark, the very particular writing energy I need, and even though I have less than twenty-four hours to do it, I feel like there’s a chance I can crack the story open and rewrite it into something to send to PJ by tomorrow morning.

We stop for petrol, and as we’re pulling back onto the highway, he turns to me.

‘I have something to show you,’ he says.

‘What is it?’ I say, wary. Surprises, especially the ones I’ve had lately, put me on edge.

‘On the backseat, there’s a bag.’ He sounds very ominous.

I turn around and see a big brown paper bag sitting there.

‘Is it another stuffed toy dog?’ I ask.

‘Very funny, but no. It’s actually sort of worse than that.’ ‘I love that dog,’ I admit.

‘Well, I need to give you context for this first, before you look at anything.’

‘Set the scene,’ I say, pushing my sunglasses up onto my head.

‘So, after everything that happened back then, in school, the kiss attempt and me being awful and you ripping the map,’ he says.

‘After all that, yes,’ I say.

‘There’s a bit more I never told you.’

‘Oh?’ I say, my stomach suddenly bubbly with nerves.

‘I was feeling guilty. I knew I’d fucked everything up. And I thought if I could just show you how sorry I was, we could be friends again.’

‘Okay,’ I say. I had no idea he felt this way back then.

‘I thought I should get you a present. Well, first I thought about writing a letter but every time I tried, it was really bad. I had no idea how to write a letter to a girl without sounding cheesy. I still don’t. So I decided a gift was the best option,’ he says. He’s watching the road as he says this, occasionally glancing at me. I don’t know where this story is going, and I still have no clue what is in the bag.

‘I wanted to give you something meaningful and heartfelt.’

‘What is it?’ I say, reaching around and picking up the bag. It’s heavy.

‘Well, I took the ripped-up map home. At first, I thought I could tape it back together, smooth it out, but that didn’t work, so I drew the whole thing all again. I recreated it and made it better, put in a few more of the details that you had written into the story, and then I got it framed.’

I reach into the bag and pull it out, the map he drew of the world we made up together, in a lovely plain wooden frame, behind glass. I have to take a second, to swallow and make sure my voice won’t wobble when I speak, that my eyes won’t fill with tears. Because it’s so lovely and sentimental and gorgeous.

‘You really did this, back then?’

‘I did. And I kept it all this time. I went looking for it in a box last night, after I got home.’