Authors: Kerry Heavens
I stick Cocktail in the DVD player and flop down on the sofa. Films like this are just background noise to me now; I don't have to watch them to enjoy them. But they bring me comfort and I love them. I grab my laptop and open Facebook. I need to tell our followers that we’ll be having a rib-eating contest next weekend. They love all that stuff. I’m just checking the photos from last night (in case there are any embarrassing ones of me) when I get a message notification.
You have 1 new message from Danny Morgan.
Two.
Liv.
That seems manageable.
I blink at the screen for a minute. I have a new message…from Danny Morgan.
I let his name sink in…what the hell? A visit from the ghost of relationships past is not what I was expecting today.
Max had a number of short-lived ‘relationships’ on his path to self-discovery. Quite a large number actually. But not me. No, I’ve always found myself in 'proper' relationships. I’ve had four long-term relationships in the last fourteen years. I had been with Mark for four years, four nice but unremarkable years. Which is probably what I needed after Ryan. Jesus, he was a handful! That lasted almost a whole turbulent year and ended abruptly when Max caught him stealing the takings. I suppose I was preoccupied with starting the business and didn't notice him taking advantage of me. He was a total loser.
Before my Ryan disaster, I’d been dating Ed for a few years. We never lived together but it was quite serious. I met Ed at uni, he wasn't on my course but we all hung out together. He was in a band. I loved that about him. He seemed a bit dangerous, but he wasn't. Inevitably though I got more serious at about the same time that he decided it should just be fun. He was gigging further afield and clearly enjoying himself too much. It ended badly with me heartbroken. But we were young, it’s how it goes. My vulnerable state after that explains why I fell for Ryan.
Ed wasn't my first though. Danny was my first.
I’m too stunned to know what to think. After twelve years, how am I supposed to react? I place the laptop to one side and sip my soda vacantly. I realise after a minute that I could actually read the message. I was so shocked by the existence of the message, it hadn't occurred to me to view its contents. I grab the laptop back and hover over the track pad. Wait, why do I feel so shaken by this? Do I want to know what he wants? Can I handle it? I just don't know. I spent so long pretending it was okay that he had gone, I believe it. Can I invite those feelings back in?
Okay, I’m getting a bit ahead of myself, he’s just someone from my past, reconnecting via Facebook, from across the Atlantic. I’m probably safe from emotional turmoil if I open the message.
Danny Morgan 23
rd
March 2012
Hey! I was reminded of you today. How is life? Add me if you feel like chatting to an old friend.
Danny x
Right…Okay… So, that seems manageable, chatting to an old friend…so that’s how he sees us? Ignoring the disappointment his words make me feel, I think carefully. I know he meant more to me than I meant to him, way more. Should I risk stirring up my feelings now?
We were a couple at school, from the last year of our GCSE's and through A-levels, but it was much more than that. Danny moved here from America when we were six and moved in a couple of doors down from us. His mum, sorry 'mom', was a computer genius and was sent by her company to establish an office in the UK, so they could bring some new technology to the British market. They were able to make the move easily because his dad was British and was happy to bring his family back to his hometown. His mum’s job was in London, so she commuted. His dad was an accountant and worked from home. Danny was an only child and he and his dad were really close.
At school, Mrs. MacWilliam put him in my group to help him settle in, as we were neighbours. I was in awe of the fact that he was American and I decided right then that he was my bestest friend. He really had no choice, but I think he was happy to follow along. Within no time at all we were inseparable. When my dad left, we moved to a smaller house a few roads streets away. It didn't make any difference; we still rode our bikes in my old road and did everything together.
We spent hours on end watching films. Hilarious eighties comedies, actions and, of course, romances. The film obsession was mine but Danny didn't mind indulging me. I was like a walking encyclopaedia. I could quote any film, I memorised every line. I think I watched them as a form of escape. Don't get me wrong, my family life wasn't awful, but it wasn't always easy either. I was ten when my dad left.
It’s a tale as old as time – boy meets girl, boy knocks girl up, boy gets a bit fed up of girl, boy hands over control of his brain to his genitals – fuck everyone else.
Frankly, I’m ashamed my life is such a cliché. I’m a child from a broken home.
After my dad left, things were bad for a while. Mum was a mess and Grace started acting up. I was pretty angry about the whole thing, but what could anyone do? I used to watch films to switch off for a couple of hours and it became a habit. I could watch my favourites every day, hundreds of times over. I realise this probably wasn't healthy, but I wasn't crying all the time like Mum or throwing tantrums like Grace, I was just escaping. Harmless really. If we weren't at Connie's we were lost in movies. Danny never minded.
In the aftermath of a contentious divorce, my mum managed a moment of clarity and found herself a wonderful man. He’s been a great dad, who loves my sister and me as if we were his own flesh and blood. We fight like father and daughter, so I know it’s real. He’s made us all happy again.
Dad continued to make a mess of things. Eventually, he and wife number three moved to Australia when I finished my GCSEs. They wanted to give her two little darlings a better life…lucky for them! Danny was my constant through all of that. Sadly, the pressure to give the perfect life to Ms. Unrealistic Expectations and her little bloodsuckers took its toll on Dad. Four years ago, he suffered a massive heart attack at work. He’s buried in Australia. Grace and I weren’t even told until after the funeral. I should have been angry with her for that, which of course I was. But I was mainly angry with him. I was bitterly disappointed with him and his weakness. If just once in his life he could have said no to a woman, he might still be alive, part of a family and loved. This all happened just before I met Mark. I missed Danny a lot through that time, even though I tried not to admit it. When we were together things were so easy and, despite years apart, at that time in my life, I’d never needed him more.
We never argued. In fact we laughed a lot. Over the years, our to-the-exclusion-of-all-others friendship very slowly became more. We held hands, hugged, and communicated in that barely audible way you do when you know each other inside out. In our bubble, we fell in love with each other.
I remember when we kissed for the first time. We were fifteen. I was making him watch Dirty Dancing for the 689
th
time, living it completely like I always did and I realised he was smirking at me. We had got some jam doughnuts from Connie's on the way home and had already had our usual jam or jelly debate. He calls it jelly, I call it jam. He always said I was wrong, which is ridiculous, because as I kept telling him, it’s our language and if we say it’s jam, then it’s
JAM.
If they chose to borrow our language and then change it in places, they can’t expect us to take it seriously. Anyway, I had some
jam
on my chin. He laughed at me then, when he finished rubbing it off, he leaned in and kissed me.
Things developed from there, the usual teenage stuff, nothing heavy. Except it was heavy because for so much of our lives we had given our friendship almost exclusively to each other and now we were giving each other all of these new first experiences. It meant so much. I really was in love with him.
When we went up to sixth form, the atmosphere among our peers subtly changed. Hormones I guess. Everyone seemed intently focused on losing their virginity – those who hadn’t already. I think it was assumed that we had, I don't know, but there was undeniable pressure on everyone. I hated it.
Despite the external forces, I never felt pressure from him. We were always on the same page. Happy with how we were with each other. But the pressure was always there.
We built towards it slowly, but we both knew it was coming and that it would change everything. Strangely, I think we both felt it would ruin things. But we had come so far and experienced everything in life together. How could we not see it through?
Looking back, and comparing that innocent love to my relationships since, it still feels like the only real love I’ve ever experienced. I know you’re supposed to learn and develop those feelings with each new experience but it has always felt like I gave him all my love then and he took some of it with him when he went away.
The news that Danny was leaving rocked everything. His parents sprang the news on him one day after school. Danny's mum had exceeded all expectations during her time in the UK and now she had been offered an amazing opportunity with her company to head up the new office in LA. They were taking it. They would leave when Danny's A-levels were finished. They wanted him to start looking at West Coast colleges.
We were both in shock. I tried to be positive about it. I was quite envious really. But we both knew it would be the end of us. It was so hard to comprehend, so in a way we ignored it and carried on. It was in this last, unravelling year of our relationship that we finally had sex. It was loving and tender, though tinged with sadness. We only did it a few times. We had lived without it before then and it seemed unnecessary to make it essential to our relationship at that point.
Danny embraced his new future. It was bright, just like him. He got accepted onto the Computer Science Undergraduate Program at UCLA. I was so happy for him, but then it would mean the end of us. Secretly, I looked into colleges in LA. I had this crazy plan that I could go with him and then we could be together. But Danny made no suggestion of keeping our relationship going and, in the end, I let go of the idea. I hoped he might at least want to try and make it work long distance, but he never suggested it. He wasn’t willing to fight for us. Why would he when he had such wonderful opportunities to focus on? We were so young and a huge step like that would mean getting tied down at eighteen. I can see why he didn’t want it. Looking back, I’m sure it was for the best, but it didn’t feel like it at the time.
We carried on with the business of our final year, but things weren't the same. We didn't physically drift apart, we were stuck like magnets that only the Atlantic Ocean could separate. But we did sort of start to let each other go. I was accepted at The Surrey Institute of Art and Design. In any other circumstances, I would have been over the moon, but it was all so difficult to come to terms with. It was a really weird time. Our emotions were fractured. Every exciting piece of news had a negative shadow.
I can’t remember the details of him leaving, they’re too painful. I tried to make him think I would be okay and that he would be too. He seemed upset, I think, it was hard to tell what he was feeling when I couldn't even feel myself. I knew he wanted to go and I didn't want him to worry about how I would cope, so I worked hard to make him believe it was time for us to go our separate ways, that it was natural and would be best for us in the long run. I have no idea if I convinced him, I was numb. I couldn't tell if my feelings were real or just for show. I’d lost him and I’d tried to make him believe it was for the best. It was sickening.
The only thing I was certain of, was he didn’t love me like I loved him and I had to try and move on. When I started at college that September, I was feeling slightly better. Danny had called a few times, but it was too hard. I tried to sound like I wasn't suffering at all. I suppose I was convincing. In the end he stopped calling and I was relieved. I had by default, not choice, begun to move on and his calls dragged me back. The whole thing was a living hell, but I’ve come a long way since then. I’m just floored to hear from him after all this time.
If he sees us as old friends I suppose I can live with it and if he wants to chat, I can do that surely? Nothing else could come of it anyway.
I click on his profile. It’s only his basic info as I am not his friend, yet. I look to see if his photos are public, he has a few profile pictures that are, but no albums. I go through the profile pictures: a road sign, a can of beer, a dog, some sort of sculpture and then him.
Danny. Okay. Wow!
He’s attractive, he always was, but now he’s a man, tanned, and his brown hair is lighter from the California sun. The eyes are the same and he looks really happy, like he is fond of whoever took this photo. I scroll through his friends, no girls with the surname Morgan. Do any of the girls look like they might be his girlfriend? This is ridiculous, what am I doing?
I go back to the profile. The cover photo is of the beach, maybe where he lives? His date of birth, which of course I know. That’s it. That is all I get unless I take the next step. I can't think straight.
On my TV, Tom Cruise drops all of his books and yells, "I'm doing the best I can. Okay?" and I allow the escape in.
I don't know how much time passes, but Tom Cruise turns to Elizabeth Shue as he is walking out of her father's apartment and says "and as for the way I feel about you, well I guess we'll never know". The sexiest line he’s ever spoken. I’ve sat here for maybe an hour, I don't know. But as I come back from my Tom Cruise interlude, I’m aware that I still have a decision to make. I’ll have a shower…that might help.
When I emerge, I feel much better. I’m still bemused but I’m resolved to add him and find out what he wants. I change into jeans and a Lady Luck's t-shirt. This one is black, fitted and shows our logo, which Max designed. I pull on my new Converse. I love them! They’re leopard-print leather with studs up the back and around the laces,
the
best Converse I’ve ever had and I’ve had ’em all. I don't get excited about heels like most girls, but shoes like this,
oh yeah!