What If?. Shari Low

hear his reply over screams of amusement and mock outrage from the others. ‘Nick,’ he said, joining the laughter. ‘Nick Russo.’

      That evening, unlike the night before, I took hours getting ready. Every outfit made me look too fat, too small, too flat chested. Every hairstyle made me look like my mum or my gran. So this was what happened then. You spent one night with a man and suddenly you morphed into an indecisive, neurotic nightmare. I kept waiting for the seeds of regret to set in, but they never did. I just couldn’t wait to see him again.

      When we got to the pub, there was no sign of him. I was glad of the crowd and the noise because at least it stopped the girls’ endless interrogation about the night before.

      It’s not that I didn’t want to tell them, I just couldn’t talk about something that I didn’t understand.

      How should I act? Should I be coy, distant, friendly, forward? Where was the bloody rulebook? In the end, I settled for terrified and anxious.

      All night I kept staring at the door. Eventually, at about ten o’clock, Graham entered. My heart leapt, then sank faster than a stone as I realised that he was alone.

      ‘Where’s Nick?’ I asked, scared of the answer.

      He shrugged and there was something uneasy in his posture that sent my alarm bells straight to screech levels. ‘I don’t know, Carly, I’m not sure if he’s coming down tonight.’

      The others looked uncomfortable now too, all the guys’ eyes immediately drawn to their feet. They must teach that in Men School – ‘When one of your fellow males is ceremoniously dumping a member of the female sex, you must immediately stare at the floor, or you’ll be stricken down by the Testosterone God.’

      I couldn’t speak. I stood up, grabbed my bag and fled, not stopping for a second lest they saw the tears that were threatening to blind me.

      After running for what seemed like miles, my brain locked in a mantra of ‘Bastard, Bastard, Bastard’, I found myself at the beach.

      This had never happened to me before. Never had any guy let me down or upset me, never mind make me cry. I had always thought that I was indestructible.

      I found an overturned dinghy on the sands and collapsed against it, facing out to sea. Why is it that at times of crisis I always see a vision of my mum lecturing me?

       ‘They’re only after one thing, you know.’

       ‘Never give in to sex because they’ll just cast you aside like yesterday’s newspaper afterwards.’

      I felt like banging my head on the dinghy, just to get rid of the sound of her voice. A coma would definitely be preferable.

      That was where he found me hours later, eyes swollen from crying, mascara ingrained into my cheeks, hair so flat that it resembled a balaclava.

      I felt a movement beside me and he sat down, put his arms around me and squeezed tight. I stared at him in dumbstruck shock.

      ‘How did you find me?’

      ‘We were all looking for you, and Kate figured you’d be here. The others headed back to the bar when we spotted you. I promised the girls I’d bring you back later. Carol said if I didn’t, she’d remove my nuts.’

      That made me smile, but I couldn’t get any words past the massive lump that had formed in my throat.

      ‘Why did you run off?’ he went on.

      ‘I thought I’d made a horrible mistake. I thought you weren’t coming,’ I spluttered through the tears that had started again.

      ‘Don’t be daft,’ he smiled. ‘I just fell asleep while I was getting ready. I was a bit late, that’s all.’

      ‘Oh.’ Conversational skills were on annual leave again.

      ‘But I do think we have to talk.’

      Here it comes, I thought. The whole ‘holiday romance, it was just a bit of fun’ thing.

      ‘Why didn’t you tell me that you’d never had sex before?’

      Hello again, mortification. My cheeks burned. ‘How did you find out?’ Was it that obvious? Oh, the indignity of it all.

      ‘Kate told me,’ he replied. ‘She was explaining why you did the hundred metre sprint when Graham appeared without me.’

      Oh. Relief.

      ‘I don’t know,’ I answered honestly. ‘There didn’t seem to be the right moment.’

      ‘So why did you do it then?’ he persisted.

      ‘I don’t know that either. It just felt right.’

      He laughed. Laughed! I was sitting there feeling like my heart had been shredded and he was laughing. He kissed the end of my nose, then drew me in close to him, dispelling my indignation in a heartbeat.

      ‘I think I’m going to like you, Carly Cooper. Now, come on, we’ve got some catching up to do.’

      The rest of the holiday passed in uninterrupted bliss. The next morning, we went back to our apartment with all Graham’s clothes and swapped them for mine. Graham and Sarah were delighted – they were fast becoming a permanent feature.

      Nick and I were the same. We woke up together, sunbathed together, went to the pub in the evening with the rest of the gang, but still never leaving each other’s side. And we laughed. We laughed about silly, stupid things. I had fallen sombrero over espadrilles, totally and completely in love. And so had he. It was amazing. His face lit up when he saw me, we talked constantly about everything on the planet and then he made long, gorgeous love to me every night.

      If I’d stopped to think about it in any depth, I’d have acknowledged how lucky I felt. Nick Russo was the first guy I’d ever slept with and he was sweet and kind and funny, and showed no dickhead tendencies whatsoever.

      The last night finally came. My stomach had been in knots all day and I was alternating between a longing to handcuff Nick to the bed and savour every moment, and wanting to curl up in a corner and cry.

      We went out to dinner, for once without our merry band of friends.

      ‘We can’t let this end here, Cooper,’ he said as he held my hand so tightly that it felt as if he was dislocating my knuckles.

      ‘How can it not?’ I implored. ‘We live on opposite sides of the country, we can’t drive and we’re skint students.’

      The truth was, I could probably make the trip to his home in St Andrews by bus and train, and he could travel to see me too. The distance wasn’t insurmountable, but geography and logistics weren’t the real issue here.

      You see, I adored him. This had been the most perfect two weeks of my life, I had lost my virginity to the most amazing man and I could see the future. If we tried to continue this at home, it would get lost amongst protracted separations, late night phone calls and living in different towns. Even in my sun-damaged, alcohol-poisoned, euphoric state, I knew that we were much too young for this. Eventually, we would both meet other people and it would end horribly, with tears and tantrums, recriminations and regret. I didn’t want that. I wanted to remember this forever for what it was – the best episode in my life ever.

      I tried to explain this and, eventually, his sad eyes told me that he got it.

      ‘Tell you what, Cooper, one day I’m going to come and find you. Then, we’ll get married and live in happily shagging bliss for the rest of our lives.’

      ‘You promise?’ I asked, smiling.

      ‘I promise,’ he replied, as he squeezed me tightly, then kissed