Harptree will be good because I can prove to myself that my feelings for Matthew are a silly, childish crush and nothing more.
I could not be more wrong. From the moment I step back into Harptree, everything reminds me of him and of how much I have missed my home. We are staying with family friends who live across the street from our old house. Everywhere I look has a memory that includes Matthew. As I walk to Diana’s house, it seems that with each step I take, I am walking in the shadow of a memory. I can hear our laughter, I can feel us holding hands, feel us runningdown the street chasing the ice cream man, and I can feel us kissing in the dark under the street lights. We are everywhere, yet nowhere at all.
I turn the familiar corner to St. Bernadine’s Close, adjusting the heavy bag on my shoulder full of clothes and makeup, and continue all the way to the end of the street. I arrive at Diana’s white front door and ring the doorbell. I hear her scream from upstairs and then watch through the obscured glass of the door as Diana’s silhouette rushes madly down the stairs to greet me. Our friendship has not suffered; despite the hardship of being pen pals, we somehow have managed to survive, and I know we will remain lifelong friends.
We giggle while getting ready to go out. Diana is obsessed with my new American clothes, trying on everything I have brought with me. Diana hasn’t changed at all since I left, with the exception of being almost sixteen. I, on the other hand, have changed a lot. The California influence makes me appear out of place. I am tanned, bleached blonde, and now about five feet six inches tall, towering over poor Diana. My hair is teased and sprayed in a big eighties style, and I wear a lot more makeup than most English girls do. I suppose I have blossomed, and I am no longer the simple, plain young girl who said goodbye to Harptree. It feels amazing to be back with Diana; as much as I like my new American girlfriends, nothing compares to being with someone you’ve known forever.
By the time we finish getting ready, I have put Matthew out of my mind and can’t wait for the night to begin. Jenny snaps a couple of pictures of us with her new camera before we leave for ournight on the town. We are off to a club and a couple of pubs. I have forgotten that the social scene is drastically different here. As long as we look sixteen, we can get into pubs and drink—so different from the strict laws in California that I’m starting to become accustomed to. I am home, and tonight I am going to get a taste of what my life would be like if I had stayed here.
Terry and Joe call round, and after quick hellos we walk up to the town, chatting and catching up. They are both shocked at how different I look, which surprises me, as I don’t think I’ve changed that much. Apparently, I have underestimated my transformation. We call into the Ole Magpie pub on the way, their usual Friday night first stop. After one drink, we move on to the next pub, St. George’s in the Town Square, which I recall being a very popular hangout. The place is packed, and we end up standing in a corner, practically yelling at each other over the music and loud voices, attempting to have a conversation.
I find myself scouring the room for a familiar face. What does he look like now? Is he here? Why hasn’t anyone mentioned his name? As I search through the smoke-filled room, I recognize a few faces in the pub. Some of my old school mates come up and say hello, others smile and wave, keeping their distance. The girls give dirty looks while the boys stare. Alas, Matthew is not one of them. I start to feel uncomfortable. I expected to fit in here, this is my home, but it appears I don’t belong here anymore, and the realization hurts. I start to wonder whether I belong anywhere. Two drinks leave me feeling a little lightheaded, so whenit’s time to go to the club, I am glad for the fresh air and the short walk through town. I