Page 113 of Jessica Beam is a Hot Mess
I’ve been so convinced that Leo Frost is a turd, and was so focused on behaving like a made-up person around him, that the real me has been left defenceless, and now I think I’ve got . . . feelings.
Feelings. Urgh. I can feel them, these feelings. Whizzing around my insides and making me feel excited and scared and worried and super horny and like there might be something to look forward to, maybe.
But it’s a lie. There isn’t anything to look forward to here. The only reason Leo hasgotfeelings for me is because he thinks I’m this ‘alternative’ vintage posho who likes poems and Renaissance art and is super fascinated and amazed by every single blummin’ thing he says and does.
Even so, he’s surprised me and . . . Ilikehim.
But I can’t. Not now. Not when I’ve spent my whole life avoiding this very situation.
I think about Mum. About what she told me on the day I left for university, just six months before she . . . well. She stood on the doorstep of our house, eyes swimming with tears, and put her hands firmly on my shoulders.
Never give your heart away, my darling. If you lose it, you might not get it back, and then there’s nothing left. Don’t be foolish like your mum. Trust me.
I clench my fists tightly as I hurry towards Grandma’s house.
This is dangerous. Thesefeelingsare dangerous.
Ugh, I acted like a sappy fool back in that park. I didn’t even recognize myself, getting all melty like that. What was I thinking? Iwasn’tthinking. I can’t risk it. I can’t risk ending up like Mum.
I inhale sharply and blow out steadily in quick succession, trying to focus.
There’s only one thing for it.
I can’t see Leo Frost again.
I have to call off the project.
* * *
I’m completely ready to storm into Bonham Square and demand to Grandma and Peach that the project is over. ThatHow to Catch A Man Like It’s 1955is simply no longer a possibility, that there have been creative differences, that they are just going to have to figure out their problems without me, that everything is not my responsibility, and why all of a sudden is it supposed to be my responsibility?
When I get to the drawing room, the door is slightly open. Peach and Grandma are hanging out on the sofa watchingScott & Baileyon the telly.
Grandma is sipping from a little tumbler of sherry and fidgeting with her blouse collar. Peach − Mr Belding sprawled comfortably on her lap − keeps peeking towards the window, probably wondering when her friend will return. Grandma gasps, riveted, as Suranne Jones nicks a goateed criminal. Peach giggles at Grandma’s reaction and tickles Mr Belding’s belly.
This is their life.
With a lurch of the stomach, I get a sudden vision of Grandma clutching onto the railings of Bonham Square as burly bailiffs ransack the place, kicking her out onto the street. Then I picture Peach, interviewing for a room-mate position at some rough, crowded, flatshare in Peckham, and the amount of anxiety that living with new strangers would cause her.
My shoulders slump as I come to a stark realization.
I think I have feelings forthesepeople too.
I smack my own head.Whatis going on? I’m turning into a right loser.
I watch Grandma and Peach watching the telly. Two weeks ago these people were complete randomers to me. And now . . .
Oh, who am I kidding? Ican’tbloody call off the project. I can’t let them down. Especially not because I’m scared of how I feel about a boy I barely know. I rub the back of my neck and take a deep breath.
Dammit.
Right. Change of plan. The only thing I can do in this horrid situation is to try and ignore these ridiculous feelings for Leo sodding Frost. To keep my head down, work super hard on the projectasLucille, get Leo to declare his love for me as quickly as is humanly possible, write those stupid first twenty thousand words, get this book deal, write the rest of the book, save the world andthendo one. Maybe to the Caribbean. Then I will send Leo a letter of apology for tricking him for cash and my heart will be safe and I’ll live happily ever after, alone on a beach.
I sigh to myself, and at the sound of it, Peach notices me in the doorway. She jumps up from her chair in excitement. ‘Jess!’ she says happily, as if I’ve been stranded on a desert island for a month. Grandma gives me a huge smile. Never before in my life have two people been so genuinely pleased to see me.
‘Hello, dear,’ Grandma says. ‘How did it go?’
‘Did you kiss him?’ Peach asks.
