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Applying to university was a problem. Everyone with their personal statements and their open days and their UCAS forms that seemed never-ending. The idea of it all was exhausting. Taking the train to open days to sit in lectures for subjects she chose at random from a course booklet, pretending that she wanted to be there, was clever enough to get the grades to be there. She didn’t get how everyone seemed to be finding it so exciting, the low buzz of energy throughout her friends when someone mentioned halls of residence, or freshers week, or more lectures. Darcy thought the whole thing sounded exhausting. The problem was that Darcy didn’t fucking know what it is she wanted.
All she wanted was to not be in her house with her family anymore. She could already feel the weight of their disapproval if she told them she wasn’t even going to bother applying to university. Honestly, Darcy, we always knew you’d amount to nothing. She could already hear it ringing in her head, feel the crushing press of disappointment. Just like Darcy, always making a mess of things, always letting us down.
But what the hell else was she going to do otherwise?
It was lunchtime and everyone else was making frantic edits to the personal statements they had to submit today. Tara was laid out on the grass, smug, her application long since submitted, Cambridge at the top of her stack of applications. Darcy worried her lower lip and backspaced a few more filler words. It was shaping up to look like a rack of nothing, the only thing of value she had was her music exams and a brief stint working in a charity shop for a Duke of Edinburgh she had never finished.
‘Do you think they even read these?’ Nick groaned, running a hand through his hair as Charlie checked over his grammar.
‘I don’t even know why I’m bothering with this. I don’t even like the idea of uni that much.’ Darcy replied, fighting the urge to hold down on the backspace key until the whole page was empty.
‘You should at least apply, Darcy, you’re probably just nervous.’ Tara told her, giving her hand a comforting squeeze under the table. It did nothing for the sinking feeling of dread creating a pit in her stomach. She couldn’t help but think that Tara deserved better than someone with no plans, no ideas, and no goals. Everyone else had it all worked out, she was just there. So in her next period lesson, under the watchful eye of the school careers adviser, Darcy clicked apply and suddenly she had five pending decisions for a course in Media Studies.
The University of East Anglia seemed like her best bet, close enough to Cambridge that she wouldn’t have to be apart from Tara for too long without being close enough to home that her parents would expect her to come back and see them. It should have felt like a triumph when her UCAS Track email pinged in to tell her they had offered her a place. ABB. It just felt like another loss. It wasn’t what she wanted, she knew that, but how could she say? How could she do that to Tara, who was so excited about them being on that journey together? Her friends who were so ready to take that step? The snide little voice in her mind reminded her that it didn’t matter she was doing this to spare everyone’s feelings now, there was no way she was going to get those grades. She knew the voice was right, thinking back to the scored lines of red pen through all her exams, little frown faces drawn next to questions she hadn’t even attempted answering, despairing school reports that made the lines around Darcy’s mum’s mouth tighten ever further.
That, Darcy thought, was a problem for after exams.
*
The exams passed in frantic, revision-filled days, with pages of notes that suddenly made no sense to her. The words on the exam pass seemed to crawl and swim in front of her, her eyes unable to focus on what she was being asked, her hand moving in a scrawl across the pages of its own accord. She knew what she had written wasn’t good, but the anxiety this sparked in her was far outweighed by the solace she found from knowing she was one step closer to it all being over.
Her friends seemed to be sitting in this same anxiety. Elle’s face was constantly set into a frown, her mouth moving silently around the notes on her flashcards. Tara had developed the need to be obsessively updating the Quizlets she had been cultivating since the first day she sat down in Y12 for hours at a time, snapping at anyone who dared to interrupt her. Nick’s pens had been chewed to within an inch of their lives, to the extent that Charlie had confiscated his best fountain pen at the very real risk he was about to explode an ink capsule in his mouth. He also left the exam hall in a mess, hair sticking up in all directions and eyes watery, fretting that he had failed everything. Darcy expressed the same sentiment, but privately she knew that this was just nerves on his part. She had real reasons to panic.
Then, the day she was craving. The End. Finished. Done. Darcy swore to God she was never going to touch an exam ever again. But for now, it was Over. Time to take a breath. Until she had to find out the results.
*
Results day rolled around far too quickly for Darcy’s liking. The week before descended into that same haze of sick anxiety that had plagued her during the exams, and whenever she thought about going to university for ever so slightly too long.
One little white envelope was going to decide her future.
CDD. Right, okay then. She glanced upwards to see if any of her friends were in the same predicament as she was. Nope.
Charlie was clutching Nick’s paper in one hand, and pressing their faces together with the other. ‘Nick! I’m so proud of you!’
Nick leant over the sheet of paper, head pressed against Charlie and Sarah Nelson, and looked up grinning.
Elle’s nose had scrunched up like it always did when she was excited, and Darcy just knew.
Tara was clutching her mother’s hand in hers as they scanned the paper. Darcy glanced over at it. Three A*’s. Pride shot through her like electricity. Her beautiful, wonderful, incredible girlfriend was going to go to Cambridge. She deserved it more than anyone.
And that just left her. Those grades weren’t going to get her into university. And, she thought with a sick kind of relief, I’m glad they’re not going to. What she wasn’t glad about was what she was going to have to tell everyone.
‘So, good news for us all then guys?’ Nick asked, face lit up like the sun. God, Darcy wondered where he stored all the mega-watt energy in that smile. She thinks she’d probably explode.
Elle nodded and reached out to hug him, as Tara turned to Darcy with her own grin. Before Tara had the chance to register her face, Darcy reached forward to wrap her arms around her.
‘I am so, so proud of it. You’re going to be amazing. You deserve this so much.’ Darcy pressed her mouth against Tara’s ear, desperate to impart these words before she had to shatter the illusion that today had been magical for all of them. Tara deserved that much. More than she had ever deserved. As they leant back from the hug, Tara’s brow furrowed.
‘What’s the problem, Darce?’ She pressed one of her hands to her jaw, ‘Is it your parents not being here?’
Darcy was delighted her parents weren’t here actually. If anything could have made today any worse it would have been that. By now everyone had turned to look at her with inquiring eyes.
‘No, no. I’m fine with that actually. I just…didn’t get in.’
Nine faces dropped in front of her, and a cacophony of voices rose around her.
‘Darcy, I’m so sorry!’
‘Darcy, there’s always clearing.’
‘You could resit?’
‘What did you get, maybe we could call or something?’
She didn’t know where to look.
‘I’m just going to go…speak to Mrs Leckie. About clearing. Or something.’ She forced out, ‘See you all outside?’
Tara fell into step behind her as she began to pace towards the front of the school hall, and Darcy stilled her with a hand on her forearm.
‘Babe, thank you, but I think I need to go on my own.’
Tara looked worried and she did her best to look the part of the reassuring girlfriend, giving her a nudge back towards the gaggle of her friends, ‘Go. everyone is waiting. And you know Tao and Isaac are going to be squirming at home waiting for you, you can’t leave them hanging!’
Tara looked placated, and suddenly Darcy was very alone in the room again. Time to face facts. Darcy Olsson doesn’t know what’s she doing. But it’s not going to be university. She turned and walked out the door, taking a separate route to Tara and the rest of her friends, stopping only to dump her results in the closest bin. Fuck that. Fuck this. Fuck everything.
*
22nd August
Group Chat: sad gay people in my phone
Members: nick, charlie, isaac, elle, tao, tara, darcy
darcy: hey just thought id mention to you all that ive really considered and discussed with everyone and ive decided to take a gap year
Lie, Darcy thought, she hadn’t discussed it with anyone. She hadn’t even told anyone. She felt bad she hadn’t mentioned it to Tara first, but this didn’t feel like the kind of conversation she could have more than she absolutely had to. She’d mostly disappeared from her friends since the results came out, using her time to drop her CV at as many local restaurants and pubs and bars as she could find with Help Wanted signs in the window, assuring them she wouldn’t be leaving for university any time soon. It was time to bite the bullet now, she figured.
tao: that’s cool darce do what makes you happy
charlie: hope you’re okay darcy
nick: ^^^^^ xx
elle: sending love darce
isaac: you can go with us instead darcy we’re objectively cooler
nick: slander
elle: uncalled for
Text to: darcy
taran<3: darce are you okay? call me
[Missed Call from: tara <3]
[Missed Call from: tara <3]
darcy: i can’t call babe im sorry
darcy: all a bit crazy at home
darcy: all okay though
tara<3: what’s this about uni babe talk to me
darcy: im just trying to figure out what i want to do, don’t stress i love you
tara <3: i can’t not stress darce tbf
tara <3: you never mentioned it before
That, Darcy thought, was patently untrue. It was just that nobody had been listening.
darcy: yeah idk
darcy: listen you’re still going to have the best time, its just not for me rn
tara <3: if you’re SURE babe
darcy: im sure
tara <3: okay but we have to talk about this later
darcy: i promise
Another lie. Darcy was counting on Tara being so busy with her university preparations that Darcy’s lack of willingness to go along would simply fade away.
And that was exactly what happened. Suddenly life was jam-packed with leaving parties, frantic trips to IKEA with student checklists, and sorting through eighteen years of collected stuff to see what it was necessary to take to university and what could finally take a trip to the charity shops. Darcy spent these final weeks with Tara breathing an extended sigh of relief.
*
As Tara packed the last of her stuff, Darcy started her new job as a bartender and a waitress at a student pub in the centre of town. The hours were long but her co-workers were nice, and her boss snuck her a Coke when she looked about to pass out behind the bar, and it distracted her from the stabbing pain of seeing how bare Tara’s room had become, all of the comforting little bits that Darcy had grown familiar with over the last seven years boxed away in uniform rows.
This was Darcy, on her own.
*
Darcy’s walk home from work was going about as well as her day had, the heavens opening before she’d even made it five minutes down the high street. Fuck this, she thought, I’m not walking in this. Darcy ducked inside a coffee shop, seeking a reprieve from the late September showers. If her friends had still been here, she probably would have skipped and jumped around, letting her hoodie get slowly soaked in the rain. But there was no one here to entertain anymore. The idea was mildly depressing, but she was still somewhat grateful that she wasn’t going to be walking home shivering this afternoon. As she scanned the board above her head, a flash of dark blonde hair caught her attention and suddenly she was locked onto brilliant blue eyes. Imogen Heaney. Fucking hell, was there nowhere in the whole goddamn stupid town that wasn’t filled with people who reminded her of everyone else that was moving on with their life. It was, however mildly surprising to see her behind the counter, hair scraped back into a ponytail and an apron, this late in the year.
‘Oh. Hi, Darcy!” Imogen raised her eyes and leaned over the counter towards her. Bollocks. No one behind her to distract Imogen into just taking her order. Why, why, why did it have to rain on a random Wednesday at 2pm and not a busy Saturday. Darcy felt a little bad for her horror at seeing Imogen behind the counter, she knew Imogen was Nick’s friend, and she seemed sweet enough. Since their slightly misguided Y11 days, she had even spent some nights watching Tao’s weird films with them and sitting in the terrible bowling alley arcades. She and Darcy never really had much to talk about though. Darcy thought they were just about as opposite as two people could get, and she wasn’t exactly very good at making friends.
‘Imogen. Hey, alright?’
‘Yeah, great thanks! I can’t believe you’re still in Kent!’
Yeah, Darcy thought, neither can I. She forced the sides of her mouth up into the imitation of a smile. ‘Still here. Could I get a latte please?’
Imogen looked startled by the request, as if she’d suddenly been snapped back into a reality where she needed to do her job, instead of standing speaking to Darcy over a table in the Higgs canteen.
‘Yeah, God sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt your afternoon!’ Imogen flashed her a quick smile, and Darcy’s chest tightened a touch. She didn’t have to take out her bad mood on Imogen.
’No, it was nice to see you! Sorry, I’m just annoyed it started raining on my walk,’ She explained as she tapped her phone against Imogen’s card reader, privately wincing at the £3.40, ‘Bet your day has been worse than mine though!’ Darcy gestured at the coffee shop and its patrons.
Imogen brightened slightly at her more encouraging tone, ‘I enjoy it actually, I like to talk to people! It’ll be on the end in a minute if you want to wait for it there.’
She took that as her dismissal and privately thanked Imogen for having enough tact to know when to leave a conversation alone.
Darcy perched on one of the window seats, out of sight of the counter Imogen was still serving drinks at, pulling out her phone to check the group chat as she waited for the latte to cool enough to drink.
September 28th
Group Chat: sad gay people in my phone
Members: nick, charlie, isaac, elle, tao, tara, darcy
nick: why have i only just woken up
nick: its 2pm
nick: this is literally a simulation of real life
elle: no bc ive been to three classes on hangover today im SO jealous of u rn
tara <3: clubbing on a tuesday is so real of u
tara <3: ive got three essays due by next week why does uni hate me
nick: hahahah ive literally just got a lesson plan due in like a month sucks to suck
tara: the depths of my hatred for u are so strong
Darcy clicked off the chat. She didn’t have much to add to that, to be honest. What was she supposed to say, Yeah I got up at 7am today and worked at a pub serving a bunch of students and it was actually very annoying. Hope you guys had a great day. She wasn’t the only non-replier, Charlie, Tao, and Isaac were still in school. They had mostly reverted back to their original friendship group in the absence of the rest of their friends. She didn’t think it had been on purpose, but it was a little hard to hang out with people who were still in school. She’d seen Charlie a couple of times, but he spent most weekends visiting or being visited by Nick now that he’d left for Leeds.
She was so absorbed into her steadily declining stream of consciousness that she physically jumped when she heard someone clear their throat above her.
‘Mind if I sit? I’ve just finished and I don’t fancy walking back in that rain and I don’t have my umbrella with me.’ Imogen was standing over her table, knuckles going white around her cup of coffee, obviously nervous.
Caught off guard, Darcy just nodded, nudging Imogen’s chair out with her boot and watching her collapse gratefully into it, placing her coffee on the table. There was a beat of awkward silence between them, as Imogen quickly looked down to stir a packet of sugar into her coffee.
‘So,’ Darcy started, ‘You off to uni soon then?’
God, she thought, if she’s about to tell me how excited she is about it, I think I’m going to go and set myself on fire in the bathroom and she’s going to have to clean it up after. To her surprise though, Imogen grimaced. Her pretty face twisted into something Darcy had seen far too often in the mirror lately.
’No. Not going actually. You?’
‘I’m…not going either actually.’ Darcy said, eyebrows raised, ‘Sorry, but weren’t you going to do, some like, psychology?’ She had seen Imogen’s parents onresults day, crowding around her results paper and holding her tight in celebration. She had been in Tara’s psychology class in Y12 and Darcy was sure she would have gotten the grades. Imogen wasn’t the idiot Darcy had privately considered her during her friendship with Harry Greene and his other horrible friends. God, it still stung that they were getting out of Kent before her.
‘Yeah, I got into Birmingham. Sociology. I turned it down though.’
‘Oh right. Next year then?’
‘No, not then either.’ Imogen’s voice was gradually hardening at her questions, and Darcy was, frankly, a bit bloody confused.
She started to realise she might sound like every pushy relative at a family gathering who just couldn’t believe she could possibly want anything other than to live in halls and do a degree she really did not care about.
She hurried to correct herself. ‘I’m not, like, trying to be a dick about it. If it came off that way. Like, I’m obviously not going, I’m not judging or anything. Sorry.’
’Sorry,’ Imogen looked as if she had deflated in front of her, ‘That was so rude of me. I’m just so sick of everyone acting like I’ve let them all down when they ask me that question and I tell them the actual truth.’
‘No I get that,’ Darcy said, ‘Everyone thinks I’ve made this massive mistake that I’m going to regret the minute I wake up and realise what I’ve done, but I’ve literally never felt more relieved than when I didn’t get in.’
‘God, yes, exactly like that. I spent the whole summer worried about it and then I clicked decline and suddenly I just felt…free? I think I never even wanted to go, everyone just decided that I was going to and I didn’t know how to say no and I felt like I should be excited about it? But I just wasn’t. And nobody gets it. Like all my friends went away and they can’t stop telling me about how much they love it and it’s the best they’ve ever felt and how great it is. Like they expect that to change my mind? But they can’t accept that’s how I feel not doing that. I like it here and I love my job and I don’t think I want it to be like this forever, but I wish everyone would stop treating me like I’m just a stupid girl who doesn’t know any better.’
It was like the floodgates had opened in Darcy’s mind. She wasn’t alone.
She clamoured to agree. ‘Honestly, like every time I speak to my friends they can’t help but tell me how incredible it is and then they look at me like I’m about to collapse and sob. And my parents. God, it’s so awful, they’ve always been so disappointed and now I’m just proving them right, but I can’t bring myself to go just to try and make them proud of me when I know they never will be. Like yes thank you we get it, I work in the pub, it’s the worst thing you could ever possibly imagine and you don’t know how I could possibly be even a little bit happy. Please fuck off now.’
Imogen’s face twitches up into a small smile.
‘I think you and I are going to have to give in and be friends.’
That, in Darcy’s book, was the biggest win she’d had in weeks. Falling into conversation with Imogen was easy after that. There was something about revealing your deepest secrets that really set the tone for a friendship, Darcy found. The next time she looked up from their conversation properly, the sun had dipped lower in the sky and Imogen’s manager was raising an eyebrow at them from over the counter as they laughed so hard Darcy genuinely shed a tear.
‘Oh Christ, we better actually go. I’m working tomorrow morning.’ Imogen held out her phone towards Darcy, ‘Number in there please.’
Darcy laughed and obliged, texting herself a little octopus emoji from Imogen’s phone and making a mental note to add her to her contacts once she got home.
‘You’re alright, Imogen Heaney.’
‘You’re alright too, Darcy Olsson.’
*
Somehow, after that day in the coffee shop, Imogen becomes part of her life in ways she never expected. She doesn’t want to dismiss her lovely friends, but this part of her life they just can’t understand. The everyday pace of working her service job, laughing with her colleagues and sneaking the occasional cigarette when someone at the bar really tests her patience. The satisfaction of wiping down the surfaces at the end of a long day, and the money she’s steadily building in her bank account that might one day be her ticket out of Kent. Comparing stories with Imogen, losing bets over how many spilt drinks they’ve had to clear up that day and day trips in Imogen’s battered Nissan Micra with the radio that only comes on when you thump the dashboard on their days off. For the first time since she heard the words ‘UCAS application’, Darcy feels like someone is finally on her wavelength. It’s a relief. It helps that Imogen is funny and open and she really, honestly seems to care about Darcy. It helps that she’s there.
*
11th October
Text to: darcy
imogen: HAVE to tell u about the absolute insane person i saw at work today,, come to mine after 4?
darcy: so excited for this actually
darcy: 4:30? will bring frozen pizza
imogen: pls i really really cannot be bothered to cook
darcy: me and my wifey behaviour providing for u
imogen: fuck a job u can be my housewife
17th October
Text to: darcy
imogen: do u wan
darcy: oh so true
imogen: STOP im typing under counter at work
imogen: do u want to go beach on fri???
darcy: we r literally going to freeze
imogen: yes then??
darcy: yeah obvs,, why tho
imogen: that lady that does the hot chocolate w the big cookies is back
darcy: SHOULD HAVE LED WITH THAT
1st November
Text to: imogen
darcy: do u think ducks experience complex emotions
imogen: no they’re too yellow
darcy: sorry this is not about children’s cartoons
imogen: stupid questions stupid answers
13th November
Text to: darcy
imogen: new gay exhibit about stonewall @ the museum
darcy: am i the only gay friend you had to text that to
imogen: you’re my only friend period
imogen: literally everyone else ive ever been friends with left kent and texts me like once every two weeks
imogen: our daily conversations sustain me how else am i supposed to go on
darcy: so true
darcy: u know what i love about u imogen
darcy: you never have plans with anyone else
darcy: want to go check your straight privilege and see a stonewall exhibit with me
imogen: i thought you’d never ask
26th November
Text to: imogen
darcy: why have i walked into work and someone’s put up a tree. it’s literally not even december yet.
imogen: okay scrooge it’s quite literally in 4 days
darcy: i will be festive IN THE FESTIVE SEASON
darcy: which is DECEMBER
imogen: santa is weeping
darcy: santa is still on extended holiday leave he agrees w me
imogen: bah humbug
darcy: don’t lie you’re secretly hating it as well
darcy: you can’t work service and not harbour a low level hatred for the festive season
imogen: ….checkmate
imogen: im a fraud
imogen: ive been making candy cane mochas for every single person in kent for a month already
imogen: i heard mariah carey on november first,, this shop is responsible for all her streaming money I SWEAR
darcy: KNEW IT
darcy: drinks at the crown tonight to complain about it? i finish at 6
imogen: u read my mind
imogen: meet u at the pub? im on lock up ill be there till 5:30 at least and ur only round the corner
darcy: sound see u soon
imogen: xxx
*
Tara calls on Wednesday when she’s on her way out the door to work, and Darcy figures the ten minutes will brighten up the rest of her shift for the day. She misses her like an ache and the longer the time between her leaving grows the more Darcy’s heart hurts. It was only a week before Tara was due to travel home for the winter holidays. They had agreed, haltingly, that Tara was going to stay in Cambridge until Christmas without visiting. Darcy understood. The course was intense, Tara didn’t want to be the girl that was never around to attend social events, life at Cambridge was different. Darcy’s life was busier as well. Since she had started working at the pub she hadn’t had ten minutes of spare time, let alone two days off in a row to make the five-hour train journey. It wasn’t like their last summer when Darcy could drop everything to be with Tara whenever she liked when she had no job and no responsibilities. They were all very valid reasons to be apart, having to settle for the sound of each other’s voices on the end of the phone. It didn’t mean it didn’t hurt to be apart.
‘Hey, babe what are you doing today?’
‘I’m on my way to work which…not my favourite. But there’s a new café on the corner they used to have that fruit and veg shop, you know the blue one? Anyway, everyone at work is saying it’s really good so I’m going for my lunch after my shift.’
‘With people from work?’
‘I’m going with Imogen, actually.’
‘Imogen?’
‘Heaney.’
‘Why would you be doing that?’
‘Because I like Imogen? We’re friends.’
‘You weren’t in school.’
‘Right, but we’re not in school anymore. In case that has escaped your notice. She’s nice and I like her. Sorry that I have one single friend that’s mine.’
‘Why are you getting mad at me for being surprised that you’re suddenly best pals?’
‘I’m not getting mad, I’m just saying. And like, I told you that I saw her at the coffee shop, I don’t understand why you’re acting like I’ve just told you I’m going scuba diving with Jim Carey.’
‘Okay, chill out.’ Tara laughs, undercutting the tension of the exchange before and Darcy settles back into the familiar rhythm of teasing her about her Cambridge friends and listening to her stories about halls.
By the time she hangs up, there’s a warmth in her chest and she’s unexpectedly smiley at the early morning walkers on their way for a pub lunch. She realises with a start, that she’s actually quite happy. Not that the pub job is her dream, or she’s fallen back in love with Kent, but at least she doesn’t feel so lost. She can make something of this. It’s with that in mind that she starts scrolling through flat listings on her phone during her break.
*
The Christmas holidays roll around in a haze of serving last pints to students, and unfamiliar faces appear in the evenings as people reunite in their home times, shaking umbrellas out all over floors Darcy knows she’ll have to mop later. With the arrival of her friends, the job search that’s appeared alongside the flat listings falls out of her list of priorities, cashing in on her annual leave to run headfirst into Tara’s arms as she arrives home. They don’t let go for a long time and Darcy’s life slides back into what was once familiar to her, all her friends together on the weekends and shameless teasing of each other, all the while with her hand tight in Tara’s, grounding herself.
The group chat is constantly active now everyone has come home, so it’s not a surprise when Darcy’s phone lights up on the table as she takes her break, leaning on the back wall with a pint of lemonade as she sends a prayer to whoever is up there that the rest of the evening will be quieter.
23rd December
Group Chat: sad gay people in my phone
Members: nick, charlie, isaac, elle, tao, tara, darcy
tao: film @ mine tonight????
charlie: me and nick will be there x
tao: back to being one being then
charlie: no regrets ive been deprived
elle: obvs am already here hahaha
isaac: yes pls
tara<3: yeah me too
tara <3: think darcy is at work tho
Darcy hastens to reply, placing the lemonade on the floor beside her beaten-up work boots.
darcy: nah only till 7, swapped shifts this morn
darcy: ill just nip home and shower tho bc someone has literally spilt an entire pint of stella down my jeans and ive been stood in it for like four hours
nick: don’t they send you home for that
darcy: no hahah
darcy: its a pub its an occupational hazard
darcy: anyways will be with yous 7:30-8ish? start the film without me if you want
*
By the time she arrives, something artistic is already playing, and her friends shuffle around so she can take her spot tucked against Tara’s side. As usual, nobody is paying attention to the film Tao has chosen for them, except Tao himself, who seems to have tuned out the idle chatter in the background and appeared laser-focused on the screen. Most of the conversation revolved around university, and even Charlie piped up every once in a while. She supposed that he spent so much time there with Nick that it must be like a trial run for his next year. Currently being discussed was whether he would be putting Leeds as his first choice, or whether he and Nick should commit to long distance for another two years. Darcy knew they’d been worried when Nick first went away, but as predicted by everyone around them, they’d weathered the storm with particular grace and still looked just as in love as they’d always been.
Somehow, in the time it took Darcy to muse on their relationship, the conversation had turned to her.
‘So can you pull a good pint now then, Darcy?’ Charlie asked, leaning forward
‘You haven’t been to the pub sampling them, Charlie?’ Tara replied, smiling at Darcy.
‘Um, I’m a professional actually, Tara, it would be very bad of me to be knowingly and willingly serving a minor. And I do actually have an interest in keeping this job!’ Darcy laughed, ‘I’ll pull your first pint in April if you like Charlie.’
‘You hate it though, right?’ Elle asks, leaning over to grab popcorn from the bowl in Darcy’s lap.
Darcy is mildly taken aback. Hatred wasn’t really the first thing she felt about her job. ‘Uh…it’s not the worst?’
‘Yeah, but you just have to serve the drinks all day? And then clean up? While people spill stuff all over you. That doesn’t sound fun.’ Elle leans forward, one eyebrow raised as she stared at Darcy.
‘Good to save for uni though, I guess.’ Nick chimes in, hand still buried in Charlie’s hair from their seat on the floor
‘Yeah, I’m actually not really thinking of going to university at the minute.’ Darcy said, rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly. Tara stilled next to her, her arm around Darcy’s neck suddenly heavy. Before she could interject and ask Darcy about it, Darcy leapt up from her spot, ‘Sorry, I think I’m just going to nip to the loo.’ She could feel every set of eyes on her as she walked out of the room, and it was hard to miss the glances between her friends as she left. That had gone down much worse than she anticipated, and she could see the imprint of Tara’s horrified expression burned behind her eyelids every time she blinked. God, why did she feel like such a letdown again? She’d been so happy lately.
The bathroom was blessedly cool, and Darcy sank down onto the closed toilet lid, pulling her phone out of her hoodie pocket.
23rd December
Text to: imogen
darcy: have just told all my friends im not going to uni and you’d literally think i burnt down an orphanage full of kids in front of them
imogen: oh fun film night then
darcy: do u think they’ll put on a uni recruitment video when i go back
imogen: maybe they’ll just read out loud from a brochure
imogen: theyre secretly just recruiters wearing skin masks of your friends
darcy: HORRIFYING IMAGE WTF
darcy: HOW DID YOU COME UP WTH THAT
imogen: meh i have the next four days off so ive been binging weird documentaries from netflix
darcy: you should have come to this film night
darcy: all love for them but i don’t think anyone here will find my pub stories funny
imogen: even the one where u slipped on your arse on that cider no one cleaned up
darcy: WE SAID WE WOULDN’T SPEAK OF THAT AGAIN
imogen: HAHAHAHAHA
darcy: also jealous of those four days ngl
darcy: im in 4-close tomorrow and 12-4 on christmas day
imogen: ROUGH
darcy: at least no christmas dinner with my family tho
darcy: we’re doing drinks at nick’s on boxing day i think
darcy: you should come
imogen: did u just invite me to a party at someone else’s house
darcy: oh like nick would care
darcy: tbh i kind of assumed u would be coming
imogen: idk i feel like he mentioned it a few weeks ago but i forgot
imogen: that man doesn’t understand i plan on a one week work rota basis i cannot conceptualise past that
darcy: if it makes u feel better ill ask him
imogen: okay good lmk
imogen: NOW GO BACK AND ENJOY THE FILM WITH YOUR FRIENDS OMG STOP SITTING IN A BATHROOM TEXTING ME SADDO
darcy: first of all you’re sat alone watching gross documentaries saddo
darcy: second of all i didn’t tell you i was in the bathroom
imogen: i know you
imogen: im right aren’t i
darcy: no comment
Her conversation with Imogen gives her the push to click her phone off, and stroll back into the room. Her friends are clearly making the effort to pretend as if they hadn’t been discussing her most recent bombshell, and she loves them for it. It’s not something she needs to discuss at a film night, two days before Christmas. She diverts the conversation first, however, just in case someone tries to bring it back up.
As she sits back down next to Tara, she leans over to grab some peanut M&M’s from next to Charlie’s leg and asks, ‘Hey Nick? Is it okay if Imogen comes on Boxing Day?’
‘Yeah, course. Kind of thought I’d invited her already, to be fair.’
‘Yeah, time and plans aren’t real if it’s more than a week in advance when you work service.’ Darcy laughs and stuffs an M&M into her mouth. She whips her phone out of her pocket to text Imogen before she inevitability forgets.
Text to: imogen
darcy: all good for boxing day x
When she turns to Tara, her forehead is still furrowed into a frown. Darcy figures she’s probably a little annoyed at finding out Darcy doesn’t want to go to university at the same time as the rest of their friends, and Darcy reaches out to smooth her fingertips above Tara’s eyebrows in silent apology. They’ll speak about it more later, but for now, she just wants to enjoy the company of her friends and her girlfriend in peace.
But then, ‘Imogen?’ Tara whispers under her breath.
Darcy is confused, Tara knows they’re friends?
‘Yeah?’
‘Was that why you took so long, you were talking to Imogen?’
‘I just texted her.’
‘And got on to the Boxing Day party how?’
‘Literally just mentioned it in passing, babe. I assumed she was coming already but I was just checking.’
Tao silences their whispered conversation with a glare, and Darcy is still none the wiser as to what sparked the discussion. She settles back down next to Tara, determined to bring it up later.
She doesn’t notice her phone light up, from where she drops it next to Tara.
Text to: darcy
imogen: okay amazing love u see u then x
*
Darcy has no time to bring up Tara’s question about Imogen over the next few days, her shifts completely manic and Tara occupied by her family’s Christmas plans. Darcy feels a touch of jealousy watching her friends have fun in between serving Christmas lunches. She flicks through Nick’s Instagram of him and Charlie in Christmas cracker hats, kissing underneath a sprig of mistletoe Darcy assumes Sarah Nelson is holding; Tori Spring’s story upload of her and Olly’s Mario Kart match (Darcy will never make the mistake of underestimating the skill of a Spring at that game ever again), Imogen holding a tiny cousin on each hip as they grab at her hair; Elle and her massive family crowded around a table; Isaac’s collection of new books stacked artfully in front of a Christmas tree; Tao and his mum leaning over a large roast turkey (caption: we burnt it). Why couldn’t her family be like that? They’d already informed her they wouldn’t be waiting for her to come home from work to do Christmas lunch, and that she’d have to serve herself a plate of the leftovers. It didn’t particularly inspire the Christmas spirit in her.
Still, she felt warm thinking of the presents she and Tara had exchanged the night before in front of her house while she was in her dirty work clothes. Tara had been waiting for her when she got back, tired and cold in the crisp winter night. They had watched the night tick over into Christmas bundled together on the driveway in Tara’s scarf, splitting a single pair of gloves between them and holding hands inside Darcy’s jacket pocket with the other hands. Darcy had handed over the delicate gold locket, that she’d spent so long carefully measuring photos of the two of them out for. She’d found it in a vintage boutique on one of her day trips and carried it home so carefully, tucking it away out of sight of her family so no one could break it. Tara passed her a large white hoodie, embroidered with all of Darcy’s favourite things, from sweets to flowers to lines from her favourite films. Tara shyly told her that one of her flatmates could embroider, and she’d been. It’s not perfect, she’d said, but Darcy thought different, tears stinging at the corners of her eyes. This was how she wanted Christmas to feel for the rest of her life. Fuck her family, she would make her own.
*
The end of the holidays rolls around quicker than Darcy would have liked, and seeing her friends return to university, and Charlie, Tao and Isaac turn to serious preparations for their A Levels reignites an ache in her that she thought she had finally tamed. Watching Tara leave again burns no less a second time, to her dismay. She sits alone in the park for a long time after she’s left, silent tears slipping out as she thumbs through the photos taken at Nick’s Boxing Day party of them pressed tightly against each, giggling. Darcy remembers kissing her at midnight on New Years Eve, just the two of them in Tara’s bed, and wishing they could just stay like that for the rest of the year.
Watching Tara leave again kickstarts her drive to find a job somewhere out of Kent. Her scrolling through job sites borders on excessive, to the point where she thinks she could name every single thing she’s seen advertised in weeks.
And then, the page updates. For the first time in days, there’s a new listing.
Shop Manager
Located in Kemptown, Brighton
Full Time
Pay: In the region of £28,000 per annum
We are a family sweetshop, looking for someone to take over as we reach retirement. It is a full-time position, with 32 set weekday hours and a flexible number of weekend hours. We are looking for someone personable and used to working in busy environments with the general public. You must be open to learning about our ordering and delivery schedules, and be available for our other members of staff to rely on. The job involves the day-to-day running of the shop, including serving customers, ordering supplies, organising rotas, and dealing with deliveries.
Please email over your CV to [email protected] to express your interest. We will endeavour to reply within 72 hours to let you know if we feel you would be a good fit for the role and, if appropriate, arrange an interview.
Darcy wants it. She’s startled by how much she wants it, the roar of fire that crackles to life inside her. She wants it so badly. She doesn’t even hesitate before sending off her CV, refreshing her email ten times an hour desperate for a response. This is how her friends must have felt waiting for their UCAS forms.
The thing is, Darcy thinks she could do this. She’s been taking on more responsibility at work, mentoring new student hires, and sorting through deliveries in the absence of her managers. They trust her, she works hard. She cares about doing her work well and looking after her team. She’s grown to love chatting to the people, remembering the little parts of their life they share with her. Her favourites are the younger kids, coming in with their parents for pub lunches. They laugh at her jokes and she sneaks them an extra set of colouring pencils, takes the time to ensure their food is exactly how they asked for it. She’s rewarded with gap-toothed grins and scribbled drawings they leave shyly on her bar. She aches for the sort of happy family that goes for pub lunches together and laugh themselves silly. Of course, there aren’t so many families, it’s usually a student pub, but when they do happen upon them she serves them with the biggest smile. She knows in her heart she doesn’t want to be at the pub forever, but this she can picture herself doing in five years, maybe even ten years. She thinks she could be happy, living in Brighton, working at a sweet shop.
It’s for this reason that she can’t help the little scream she lets out when she refreshes one more time at the end of her break at work and it’s there. The email is there.
11th February
Email from: [email protected]
Subject: Application for Shop Manager Job
Dear Darcy,
We received your application today regarding our sweet shop, and we would love to offer you an interview. Please could you send your availability to come to Brighton to meet us and we can discuss your CV. Any day of the week is fine, including weekends, as we understand from your CV that you currently work in a pub.
Best,
Margaret and Peter Green
11th February
Email from: [email protected]
Subject: RE: Application for Shop Manager Job
Dear Mr and Mrs Green,
Thank you so much for considering my application. Unfortunately, I have a very full rota over the next two weeks. Would it be possible to arrange the interview for the 23rd of February at 12pm? Please let me know if this is too far in advance and I can try and negotiate an earlier day off at work.
Thank you,
Darcy Olsson
11th February
Email from: [email protected]
Subject: RE: RE: Application for Shop Manager Job
Dear Darcy,
The 23rd works very well for us, as we are away in Cornwall for the following week. We are not in a rush to fill this position, we want to be sure that it goes to the right candidate. We’re very much looking forward to seeing you.
Best,
Margaret and Peter Green
*
24th February
Email from: [email protected]
Subject: An Offer
Dearest Darcy,
After our conversation, we would be thrilled to offer you the job as our full-time shop manager come July. The expectation for the job would be as discussed and would be a total of 32 hours in the shop in the week over four days, plus management of our weekend staff. Your weekend hours would be flexible depending on your organisation of the weekend rotas, and our weekend staff are always happy to be accommodating. This can all be explained in full once confirmed and we can introduce you to our existing staff. We think you’d make a wonderful addition to the team and we would be delighted to know our shop is in your good hands as we start our retirement.
Yours truly,
Margaret and Peter
Email from: [email protected]
Subject: RE: An Offer
To Margaret and Peter,
Thank you so much for your kind offer, and for the clarifications you made for me in our phone call today. I am writing, as requested, with my formal acceptance of your offer. I’ll see you in July. Sending my best wishes for your preparations for your retirement.
Thank you,
Darcy
*
7th March
Text to: imogen
darcy: hey, wanna come look at some flats with me on monday?? in brighton?? nw if you’re working but i need advice i’m not a real adult
imogen: it’s my day off!! r u moving out?? would love to come help xx
darcy: hope so
darcy: first viewing @ 11
imogen: do u need me to drive?? is only like an hour and ten into brighton
darcy: was going to get a train but if you want, will give you petrol money obvs
darcy: very specific knowledge of that journey tho
imogen: i’ve been looking at flats there was well hahahah
darcy: UMMM????/ you didn’t mention that
imogen: bit of a pipe dream tbh
imogen: expensive!!v v expensive
darcy: honestly i know
darcy: but if i stay in kent im actually going to walk into the ocean
imogen: so true
imogen: when everyone comes home for easter and sees me still working in the cafe i am going to go absolutely mental if one single person tells me how sad it is
darcy: if one single one of my friends asks me about reapplying after that little performance at tao’s and i will scream
imogen: maybe we should just flee the country and create new identities
darcy: maybe let’s start w a flat viewing first and then we can work our way up to moving to south america on an undercover mission
imogen: boring. bad vibes.
*
It’s Saturday evening, and Darcy has been twitching with the need to see Tara on their weekly FaceTime call all week. Customers at work have been difficult, her parents have ramped up their general distaste for her, and the job offer she received from the sweet shop on the pier in Brighton is itching in the back of her mind. She needs her steadying force, her compass. Tara’s face is mildly blurry on the other end of the call, and Darcy can hear the interference of her flatmates in the background milling around their shared space, but she still feels a sense of peace settle over her as she sees her face.
‘Hey,’ Darcy breathes, ‘How’s your day been?’
‘So basically we went to this social…’ Tara begins, and Darcy feels bad but she starts to tune out, just ever so slightly, as Tara extols the virtues of getting drunk in her flat and trying to smoke out the windows. She snapped back into reality as Tara finished her story, asking about Darcy’s day. Something caught in the back of her throat as she opened her mouth to tell Tara about Brighton, about flat hunting and applying for the job in the sweet shop. In the months that Tara had been away, it had become so hard to tell her about this life she could see unfolding in front of her. Not one with a degree or a particularly prestigious job, but one where she could be happy. There was a nagging part of her that may her think that Tara just wouldn’t get it. It wasn’t her world anymore.
‘Nothing much, busy day at work. Probably going to go out with Im tomorrow because we’re both off.’
‘Oh again?’ Tara asked, her mouth turning down ever so slightly, ‘Is she still at that coffee shop as well?’
‘Yeah, we didn’t stop being friends in the last five minutes.’ Darcy replied, a note of irritation colouring her tone, ‘And she’s still working at the shop.’
‘Are you going to apply for something that’s not the pub?’
‘Sorry, what is this question?’
‘I just think maybe you’ve let Imogen influence you into thinking that working in the pub forever is, like, a viable career path. Nick says Imogen isn’t planning to do anything but work in that café next year either.’
‘Oh, I’m so glad you’ve been discussing my disappointing career path with Nick in your spare time. Also, I’m not going to sit here and shit-talk Imogen to you. What the hell, Tara.’ Darcy was aware this conversation was not having the desired effect on her mood.
‘I’m not saying shit-talk her, Darcy, I’m just asking you to consider your options seriously. Are you really not going to go to uni? Like at all?’
‘No. I’m not, and I’m sorry that’s such a terrible concept to you but I don’t get why you can’t just see that I’m happy.’
‘Yeah, but are you still going to be happy when all the rest of us move on with our lives and you’re exactly where you started. In Kent? With your parents?’
This, Darcy thought, must be what it feels like when your heart literally shatters. She slams the lid of her laptop down, as the first sob slips past her lips. Why could she never be enough for anyone?
*
Text to: darcy
tara <3: im really sorry darcy that was really fucked up of me to say
tara <3: you don’t have to reply i just want you to know i don’t mean that at all i was just angry and i miss you and i feel like im missing out on your life but that’s not an excuse for speaking to you like that
tara <3: anyway i know you probably don’t want to speak to me but i love you so SO much whenever you want to talk please call me
*
It’s Monday morning and Darcy has been sitting on it since she first got in the car half an hour ago. She’s been fiddling with the playlist, skipping through songs until Imogen had begged her to stop, stalling for time. She takes a deep breath and feels Imogen shift in her seat.
‘Can I tell you something?’
Imogen raises an eyebrow at her, ‘Ominous.’
‘No, I just don’t think anyone else will be able to say they’re happy for me and actually mean it.’
‘Darcy, what do you mean? I’m worried.’ Imogen’s mouth turns down, and big blue eyes flick away from the road towards her, concerned.
‘Thing with Tara.’ Darcy’s heart hurts even thinking about it, ‘But this isn’t about that. I’ve…been offered a job. In Brighton.’
‘DARCY! That’s amazing! What’s the job?’
‘In a sweet shop. I know it’s not anything special but-‘
‘Darcy, are you excited? Are you happy?’
‘Yeah. Yeah, I really am.’
‘Then it’s so special. I’m really proud of you.’
Darcy reaches out to squeeze her hand over the top of the gearstick.
‘Thank you.’
*
Imogen’s quiet as they pull up in front of the car park they’ve scouted out as being the best balance of value for money and within walking distance of the centre. She doesn’t fill the car with her usual ongoing chatter and it’s setting Darcy’s teeth on edge slightly. she looks like she’s chewing on the inside of her cheek, her biggest nervous habit, usually reserved for when a customer at work is really going for it.
‘Im, please spit it out. Are you upset?’
‘You’ll laugh.’
‘Why would I laugh?’ Darcy reaches out to give her a little shake, encouraging her to look at her properly, ‘Pinky promise I won’t.’
Imogen locks their pinkies together with a wobbly smile and then, ‘I think I want to be a nanny. I did my BTEC in Health and Social Care and I used to work in a nursery and I think I was good at it. I just thought everyone would think I was throwing away the chance to do something that paid good money. But there’s a family in Lewes, and I enquired and I think they might be keen. It wouldn’t be until September though, for school and everything.’
‘That’s great news, Im! Why would I laugh? You would never laugh at me. We’re in this together, you and me. I’m happy for you.’ Darcy reaches over the gearbox to hug her, elated that things finally seem to be sliding into place for them. They bloody well deserve it.
It suddenly occurs to her as she’s hugging Imogen.
‘Im?’
Imogen hums in response, questioning.
‘Did you say Lewes?’
‘….Yeah.’
‘Like Lewes, as in twenty minutes in the car from where we’re sat right now? As in twenty minutes away from Kemptown, where we’re literally about to go and look at flats for me?’
Imogen worries her lower lip as she pulls away from the hug.
‘Yeah about that…I wanted to ask if maybe you would. If you might. Would you want to live together? It would save money and I have the car for the commute, an-’
Darcy can’t help but interrupt. ‘Are you JOKING, you daft bint? Obviously, I want that! Oh, you really should have said before now, what’s the point of looking at a bunch of one-bed flats? I love you, Im, but I’m really not so committed to saving money that I’m about to do top to toe with you.’ She and Imogen only have to make eye contact for a second before they’re howling with laughter.
This is good, she thinks, this is one less thing to say goodbye to. Darcy is used to starting over, but with Imogen by her side, it doesn’t seem so terrifying. She gets it. They get each other. It’s nice, not to have to lose that again. Darcy thinks she’s lost enough recently.
*
The flat search stalls for the day, as they have to tell the estate agent shame-faced that they changed their minds about the number of rooms they needed. She’d looked a little shocked behind her sheaf of papers but quickly recovered, telling Darcy she could be back in touch the next week with some alternative options. They end up on the pier instead, sharing two tubs of ice-cream between them.
‘I can tell you’re worried about something other than this job, babes.’ Imogen tells her, pulling the mint choc chip out of her hand and replacing it with strawberries and cream.
Darcy tips her head back and groans. ‘Yeah, me and Tara had a fight and we haven’t spoken since. She’s waiting for me to call her because she thinks I’m mad at her.’
‘Are you mad at her?’
‘Fucking fuming. I don’t even know what happened, Im. We were literally just talking and then she’s on this massive rant about how I’m going to end up stuck in Kent with my parents forever.’
‘That makes no sense, you’ve literally just got the new job.’
‘Yeah…I didn’t actually manage to mention that.’
Imogen stares at her incredulously, ‘AT ALL? Darcy that’s actually the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard in my life.’
‘It’s not my fault!’ Darcy protested.
‘It is a bit. Have you considered that it’s probably hard for her as well? Like you’re not the only one that’s in a relationship that’s changed. You’re supposed to be in it together, and if it doesn’t feel like that then you should sort it out.’
‘Sort it out how?’
‘In whatever way is best for you, it’s not my job to tell you that. You should call her.’
Sometimes, Darcy hates that Imogen’s so sensible. And, unfortunately for her, always right.
*
FaceTime Calling: țara <3
Tara picks up almost immediately, before Darcy has even had the chance to take a deep breath. She looks tired on the other end of the phone, and she’s clearly relieved to see Darcy’s face after three days of silence.
‘Darcy,’ she starts in a rush, ‘I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t, I don’t mean that. Please.’
Darcy holds her hands up to the camera, ‘Woah, calm down. That’s not going to be helpful. We need to have a proper, honest conversation and we can’t do that if you have to stop every five seconds to say you’re sorry. You’re right it was fucked up of you to say that to me and it hurt my feelings, but we have to square that away for now.’
Țara raises an eyebrow and gestures for her to continue, ‘I agree we need to talk. I think you should go first. I feel like I’ve been doing all the talking recently.’ Darcy agrees, she does a lot of listening to Tara talk about university and not a lot of sharing her own stuff, for fear it won’t be interesting or Tara will be disappointed in her. It’s not fair on either of them.
‘Okay,’ Darcy takes the overdue deep breath and begins, ‘First of all, what you said isn’t true. I applied for a job at a sweetshop in Brighton, to manage it, and I got it. So I’m moving there. Imogen has a job lined up as well, and I’m going to look at getting a flat with her. So I’m not stuck in Kent, I’m just doing my life in a different way to you. I’m sorry that that upsets you, but that’s not on me. I’m even more sorry that I didn’t tell you about any of this earlier, but to be honest you make me feel like you’re ashamed of me every time I even try and mention doing anything that’s not what you think I should be doing.’
Tara’s eyes widened the longer she spoke, which Darcy supposed was fair given that she had just dumped a new job, a new flat and a new housemate on her in the space of about thirty seconds. ‘I’m sorry that you didn’t think you could tell me about any of this. I’m really proud of you for everything. Darcy, I’ve never been ashamed of you or looked down on you for not going to university, I think I just wanted us to be doing the same thing so I knew we were on the same page. If it’s not for you then I accept that and I love you.’ Tara looks slightly uncomfortable before she adds, ‘And…pass my congratulations onto Imogen also, I guess.’
‘That’s another thing we need to talk about. You can’t be talking about Imogen like that. I don’t know what the problem is there, Tara, but it’s not the first time and she’s my friend. I’m never going to join in with you and it makes me feel shit when you do it. She’s part of my life, and I will never be the kind of person that’s going to let you dictate who I can and cannot spend time with, okay? And when you’re rude about the kind of work she does, the life she lives, you’re being rude about me as well.’
Tara looks shamefaced at that, ‘Yeah that I’m really sorry about. I guess I’m just…I’m jealous of her.’
That stops Darcy in her tracks, ‘Jealous? Of what?’
‘Of the way the two of you are together. You’re so close now, and I feel like she’s taken my place in your life. You spend all your free time together and you get each other and you have all these jokes and stories, and it makes me feel like you’d rather be with her than me.’
Darcy is gobsmacked. Of everything she thought this could be about, jealousy wasn’t even on the cards. It was just patently ridiculous.
‘Tara, it’s not….it’s not like that? She’s my best friend, we’re not..it’s never like that.’
‘I don’t know, it’s just we’ve always been best friends as well. I feel like I’m losing my place in your life.’
‘That’s not true. Listen, I love you but you can’t be everything to me all of the time. It’s hard for me when you’re gone and if you fill every single role in my life I’m going to literally collapse. Our relationship has changed and that’s okay What I have with Imogen is different to what I have with you, but it’s still important to me. She’s my best friend, Tara, and she loves me. But it’s not the same as what we have. I’m not suddenly going to ditch you for her. I want you to be sure of that, okay?’
A few stray tears had slid out from Tara’s eyes as she spoke, and Darcy had to reach up to brush away a few of her own.
‘Okay. Darcy, I love you. I miss you.’
‘I love you more. Tell me about your day.’
Life settles back into normalcy again.
*
They have to be realistic about what they can afford. They’re very clear on this. It doesn’t help them that everything they can afford is a complete dump. Maybe they will get one student experience, Darcy thinks wryly, the one where you have to live in a flat that’s literally one deep breath away from falling apart around you. She and Imogen exchange increasingly worried glances as the estate agent shows them flat after flat. They draw the line for lunch after they see a flat on the third floor with an entirely black bathroom wall, and foil covering the windows instead of curtains.
Darcy is starting to despair by the end of the day, and the estate agent is clearly starting to panic that not a single thing she’s shown them all day has sparked anything above low-level, forced enthusiasm. She tells them she has one more thing for them to see if they’re interested. A house, not a flat, and slightly further out of the area than they’d originally been looking. Great transport links though, the estate agent rushes to reassure them. Darcy looks at Imogen and shrugs, what did they have to lose?
The house is a small end terrace, with dark grey carpets and a white mantlepiece in a little kitchen-lounge duo. The estate agent tells them anxiously that there’s no dishwasher, and the little patch of concrete they’ve generously called a ‘garden’ is overgrown with weeds. The bedrooms have four plug sockets between them and the blinds look like the ones that were used in Higgs. Darcy couldn’t care less. God, it’s already so much better than anything they’ve seen. Dry, clean, and well looked after. She’s in love. The front room has a wide expanse of windows, and the soft light spills into the lounge as the sun begins to set. The house is soft and warm, and she can imagine herself sitting on this sofa with Imogen, watching crap TV and inviting their friends for drinks. She thinks about her posters on the walls of the bedroom and getting ready to go out next to the mirror on her wardrobe. She feels a telltale squeeze in her heart. It’s that same squeeze she felt when she saw the job interview for the sweet shop. She’s learning to trust that squeeze. She can only hope Imogen agrees.
’I think I might be in love with this house.’ Imogen leans over to whisper, hand tight on Darcy’s forearm.
‘Thank God,’ Darcy whispers back, ‘Because I have to live here.’
‘So, can we sign for this one today?’ Darcy looks at the estate agent, who lights up at the prospect of a job well done.
Just like that, one more step towards the future.
*
16th March
sad gay people in my phone
Members: nick, charlie, isaac, elle, tao, tara, darcy
darcy: ME AND IMOGEN JUST SIGNED A LEASE
darcy added imogen to the chat
tara <3: CONGRATS
tara <3: sending love to you both!!!!
tara <3: mostly darcy tho no offence imogen
imogen: oh im devastated i thought we were about to be a throuple
nick: omg WHAT amazing
charlie: i didn’t even know you guys were moving in together!!!!!
isaac: that’s so cool where in kent
darcy: brighton actually!!
elle: so happy for you guys!!!!
tao: holidays in brighton uh yes please
tao: send us photos then
imogen: Sent: 9 photos
darcy: THE ONE WHERE I FELL OVER? YOURE SO RANCID
imogen: get ready for so many more of those
imogen: i will never end my reign of terror in the Olssaney household
*
It’s almost midnight when Darcy sends the text, chest tight with emotion thinking about the future she has ahead of her. For the first time in a long time, the emotion isn’t dread and sadness. It’s pure, unadulterated joy and love.
16th March
Text to: imogen
darcy: do you know that you mean so much to me
imogen: what brought this on?
imogen: you’re important to me too darcy
darcy: i was just thinking about how i wouldn’t be here without you, like i would never have been able to sign that lease or think about moving away and i wouldn’t have coped on my own in kent
darcy: you’ve changed my life
imogen: you’re my best friend
imogen: i wouldn’t have been able to do this without you either, you’ve never made me feel like you’re judging me or the things i feel are stupid and i cannot tell you how grateful i am for that
imogen: i love you
darcy: i love you
*
Darcy feels like she’s sat down for the first time in weeks. The lease is signed, her job is secure, she’s slowly started packing all her things. She’s happy. She’s really, really happy. It’s just…there’s still that niggling doubt in the back of her mind. She knows what she’s been trying her best not to think, and she hates herself for it. It’s only in the dark and quiet of her bedroom after everyone has long since fallen asleep, that she lets herself admit it.
Darcy Olsson still doesn’t know who she is. She’s spent all this time, worrying about what everyone in her life would think of her choices, of all the things she’s agreed to and the things she wants. She let Tara talk her into applying for university, let her friends believe she had every intention to reapply, let them assume she was miserable at her job and waiting for her life to start in the same way as theirs. She’s let everyone else define her for far too long: the funny one, the one that listens, the one going off the walls, the one with all the mad schemes. The one that makes things fun and interesting and exciting…for everyone else. Her whole life is defined by everyone else, by what she’s always been, by the way everyone else sees her. She’s had a taste of what it’s like to not be defined like that these past few months with Imogen, who didn’t know about this shell of a personality she’s had built up around her for her entire life. She wanted to feel like that more. The opportunity to feel vulnerable, and open, and serious as well. She wants to find out who that girl could be.
This is what she knows. She needs to be on her own, at least for a while.
How the fuck is she supposed to explain this to Tara. Tara who loves her, who was so scared Darcy was cutting her out of her life. How is she supposed to explain that this need, it wasn’t about her. That she was still in love with her, that she was trying to preserve the chance they had at that love because how could they ever really be together, properly, as adults, if Darcy didn’t even know who she was. If her personality had become so based on being whatever everyone else thought she should be, or what they needed, how could they possibly be on equal terms.
Can the world give me a break, Darcy thinks, bitter and angry in her dark little room.
I’m giving you a chance, the world thinks back.
*
For the first time since Tara went away, Darcy was dreading her return for the holidays. The days seemed to trip by in a dizzy haze of work and anxiety and packing. Tara knew something was wrong, their FaceTime calls were increasingly stilted and panicked with the weight of what was between them. Darcy began to suspect that she had been having the same idea as Darcy had, but neither of them seemed inclined to bring it up over FaceTime. Instead, they muddled through, telling each other about their days and joking about the updates from their friends in the group chats, and how glad they were they never had to sit A Levels again.
Darcy saw more of Charlie, Isaac and Tao than at the beginning of the year, the distance between them closed ever so slightly now that she didn’t feel like she was hiding so much. She usually saw them at the cafe where Imogen worked, sneaking out the back of the pub on her breaks to sit with them all, giggling over coffees. Recently, when she saw them Charlie looked like he was drowning in revision, Tao had developed a nervous twitch every time someone even mentioned the word exam, and even Isaac’s unflinching calm seemed to have cracked ever so slightly. Darcy was forever grateful she wouldn’t be sitting another exam for as long as she could help it.
The last week before Tara came home at the end of March ticked like a constant timer in her head, until suddenly it was the day before she would be back in Kent.
23rd March
Text to: tara <3
darcy: come straight to mine when you arrive???
tara <3: yeah ofc
tara <3: i miss you
darcy: i miss you too
*
When she gets home from work on the 24th, Tara’s on her doorstep, all big brown eyes and a fuzzy jumper and Darcy loves her so much. She almost wants to forget about the whole thing, close her mouth and just hold Tara. How can anything be so bad if she has Tara? But that’s not the right thing to do, the grown-up thing to do, the kind of thing that Darcy is striving to be comfortable doing.
Even just looking at her, knowing what was coming, all Darcy could feel was relief. She couldn’t run from what they both knew anymore. Darcy had missed her. Tara had always known what to say to her when her whole life felt too difficult.
‘Hey,’ Darcy says, bounding up the drive to engulf her in a hug. Tara clings to her tighter than she can ever remember being held and Darcy feels the familiar surge of love, ‘We need to talk, huh?’
Tara nods against her neck and somehow manages to hold on even tighter until Darcy is practically lifting her to get her into the house. Darcy’s family is thankfully not present, and so she takes Tara to the kitchen, delaying the moment slightly by making her a cup of tea.
‘Should I start then?’ Darcy asks, pushing the tea towards Tara, and taking a seat by her side at the kitchen island, adjusting the seats so they’re facing one another. She takes one of Tara’s hands in both of hers.
‘Yeah.’ Tara whispers, face drawn and unhappy.
‘I think I might..need some time to be on my own.’ Darcy starts, and her chest is physically painful as she watches the pain shutter over Tara’s face.
‘Darcy, are we…is this a break-up?’
’No! Well, not really? I can’t be in a relationship with you right now but that doesn’t mean I don’t want you. That I don’t ever want this to happen between us. I just want it to be on better terms. I want to find out who I am before I try and give myself to a relationship because if I don’t we’re never going to make each other happy.’
‘That isn’t true! I’m happy! I’m happy with you, Darcy. Can’t we just be together? I don’t care if you’re going away or anything, we managed this year didn’t we?’
‘Can I explain why I feel like this is what I need?’ Darcy asks gently, reaching up to brush a tear off of Tara’s cheek, ‘I think that might help you understand why I’m asking that we do this.’
Tara agrees, hand stiff between Darcy’s palms and her shoulders hunched over.
‘When you went away, I felt like you were leaving me behind. I felt like I wasn’t good enough for you and I was so miserable. I’ve felt so sad and so angry ever since we first started talking about uni and I feel like no one listened to me all that time. And then when everyone went away, it was like everyone was still sitting around thinking I was just waiting to start my life. I let everyone believe that because I was so afraid of being judged, but I can’t live my life like that anymore. I need to figure out what I want on my terms, without worrying about what everyone is going to think about it. You’re the person I worry about the most, Tara. I never want to let you down, but I know sometimes it’s inevitable that I’m going to make decisions you don’t agree with. I can’t not make those decisions just because I’m scared you might not like it if that’s what I think the right thing is for me.’
‘Decisions like what?’
‘Like not applying to university, working at the pub, taking the job at the shop, moving in with Imogen. All of this I’ve spent so much time worrying about and feeling like I couldn’t tell you because I honestly thought you wouldn’t approve. That’s not healthy. I’ve based my entire life on what other people think of me and I just can’t anymore. Can you truly tell me that some of those decisions I made wouldn’t have been things you’d advise me against if I’d asked when I was doing them?’
Tara’s face has started to clear up as Darcy speaks, and her nod this time is more understanding, ‘It would be a lie if I told you that. I never wanted to make you feel like that, Darcy, I hope you know that. I’ll never be ashamed of you, not for anything. I’m sorry that I didn’t get it. I should have tried harder and that’s on me. I spent all this time wanting you to be happy in the same way as me so that I could understand that I forgot that I should just be spending that time listening to you instead.’
‘You’ll always be my first love and my soulmate, but I need to work out who I am when I’m not using all my energy trying to be the best thing for someone else. For once I just want to be the best thing for me.’ Once, when Tara described Nick Nelson as the best listener she knew, Darcy felt it like a wound. She had always known she wasn’t the best girlfriend, wasn’t the cleverest girl in school, or the nicest, but she had always, always listened to Tara. It was time to apply that talent, taken for granted so long by the people around her, to her own life. Darcy was going to listen to her own heart. It was almost painful for her to say, and part of her wanted to cram the words back in and shove them to the back of her mind and never think about it again. Alas, she knew that wouldn’t be healthy for either of them. She wanted this to work one day. She knew she needed to grow so when they inevitably fell back together it was as people who could love each other fully.
‘I love you, Darce. I will always, always love you and if that’s what you need then that’s what I want for you.’
‘Tara, I love you. I love you more than anything. Thank you. You’re everything.’
*
It’s late June and her friends are reunited in the lounge of her new house. A Levels are over and everyone else has finished university for the summer, so the air between them is lighter than it’s been in months. It’s a squeeze, 7 of them milling around with mountains of her and Imogen’s stuff in boxes creating unfortunate obstacles. Isaac had begged off the day, citing a book signing he couldn’t miss. Darcy privately thinks that he probably had the right idea, given how much she’s already sweating just from moving the boxes out of the various cars of their friends. There was no way that Imogen’s little Micra was going to fit all their stuff. They’ve enlisted Nick’s Mini, Charlie’s Fiat 500 inherited from his mum, and Tao’s Fiesta which he’d managed to scratch up so badly since she last saw him that Darcy was almost nervous to load her boxes into it. She and Elle were still sheepish holders of green provisional licenses and had been no help there. Darcy didn’t realise how much stuff could possibly be crammed into those cars, which Nick turned out to be a master at. She had to admit to him that she was a bit impressed when he managed to close Imogen’s boot around at least half Darcy’s bedroom boxes.
Parking turns out to be less convenient, all of them taking turns to stop in the road, hazards on as Darcy and Elle unloaded boxes as fast as they could onto the pavement before pulling off to find somewhere to the park. The result was a stack of stuff taller than Darcy. She made a note to unpack the mugs and some instant coffee as a priority, thanking God that the kettle the landlord had left was working. This was going to require an almost deadly amount of caffeine.
*
They’re almost finished when Imogen starts up the stairs with a box of Darcy’s shoes braced on her hip, passing Nick on his way down, flushed and sweaty. Imogen winks at him, inclining her head towards Charlie, who’s stripped out of the jumper he had started the day into and is standing in an oversized t-shirt that Imogen recognises to be Nick’s. Nick flushes even further red and hastens down the stairs towards him, leaving Imogen laughing on the lat few steps up to Darcy’s room.
Tara’s already there when she arrives, hanging Darcy’s clothes in the wardrobe for her.
‘Hey.’ Imogen puts the box down next to Tara in Darcy’s room and flashes her a tentative smile. It’s just the two of them alone, it hasn’t been that way since Darcy and Tara ‘broke up’. They’ve been reluctant to call it that. It’s more like pressing pause, taking some time out. It’s not broken, there’s something between them that can’t ever be broken.
Tara smiles back, ‘Hi.’
‘I just wanted to tell you that I know me and Darcy being friends caused a bit of tension between the two of you, and I wanted to tell you that was never my intention. I never want you to think I’m trying to take your place in her life.’
‘No,’ Tara reaches out to hold Imogen’s hand reassuringly, ‘I’ve never thought that of you, Imogen. Me being jealous was my problem and I just want to be absolutely clear that I’m so glad that Darcy’s had you this year. You were there for her when I wasn’t and I’ll be forever grateful for that. You understand her and she needed that when I wasn’t making the effort.’
Tara is teary-eyed by the time she finishes talking, and Imogen, in all her loveliness, lunges forward to hold her in a hug.
‘Being there for her has never been a hardship for me. She’s done the same for me. She’s really, really my best friend and I promise you don’t have to worry about her with me, okay? And I can absolutely, one-hundred percent promise you that she loves you like mad. She’s crazy about you, but she’s finding her place in the world right now. I can tell you for certain that that place is by your side, it’s just hard when you’re doing things differently to what everyone has always expected from you. You just need to let her figure it out, be patient with her.’
Darcy isn’t there to witness the conversation, but the world gives her a little nudge of warmth in her chest where she’s stood sorting through kitchen supplies downstairs, a little reminder of how loved she is.
*
By the time the evening was starting to set in, the house looked less like a bomb site. They’d spent most of the day slicing through cardboard boxes and directing Nick as to how they wanted their furniture, which Darcy was hugely glad she didn’t have to do. Charlie had had to make two separate trips to the recycling at the supermarket when they’d realised they had vastly overestimated the capabilities of their blue bin. It had been tiresome, and Darcy didn’t want to see a singular piece of bubble wrap again for the rest of her life. It was starting to look like home though, and Darcy felt a surge of gratitude towards her lovely friends, giving up their time to help her. She couldn’t ever wish for better friends. How could she ever say thank you for how hard they had tried for her, with everything. For doing their best understanding when she fully opened up about university after the year of miscommunication, how she felt about herself, for their eager willingness to give their time to help her and Imogen move. She was so lucky.
They had started to file out over the last half an hour, Tara the last to leave with a kiss on her cheek and a squeeze of her hand. It was quiet, bar Imogen’s occasional clanging in the kitchen as she played a game of Jenga with the pans they had admittedly gone overboard on at IKEA. She suspected Imogen was giving her five minutes to herself to absorb it all, and taking those same five minutes for herself, given they’d barely been snatched a minute away from their makeshift moving team for more than a second the whole day. It wasn’t the first time she had thanked God for Imogen’s careful tact and almost supernatural ability to know what everyone around her needed.
In this moment of peace, Darcy sat on her own bed in her own house with the candles and the cushions and the posters she chose herself and she didn’t feel lonely. Darcy Olson felt brave.