Page 65 of To Hell With It

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It made sense to sit outside for obvious reasons, but also because I like to people-watch, which is funny given that I don’t like being around people. Well, that is a lie. I do like being around people; I just don’t like what comes from them (bodily fluids, that kind of thing). I pulled out a wipe from my bag and ran it over the plastic stool at my table, relieved it was a stool and not a chair because then my back wouldn’t touch anything.

Una used to ask me how I coped when it came to sex, and I told her I coped just fine. But the truth is, I don’t cope well at all. The thought of anyone’s cum on me makes me want to be sick. It is why I am so happy to use condoms and never go on the pill, to never get pregnant, and to never have a boyfriend. That is, until I met Jack.

Jack. Did he want children? We’d not talked about any of that stuff. He didn’t strike me as the dad type but then what is that anyway? I know I can never have children. The thought of what that would mean – and I’m not talking about sleepless nights (I’m used to them) or crying babies – I’m talking about taking it to soft play and toddler groups, being around all those other snot-soaked, saliva-filled children and parents. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t have a baby. I was too selfish. Besides, I wouldn’t want to pass on my OCD, which is possible, by the way, because it can be genetic.

I pulled out my phone and started to message Jack.

Hey! Is the sun still shining there?

I felt the warmth of it on the back of my neck.

Hey stranger! Bright as ever! How are you? Anyone else popped their clogs since I left?

Not that I know of…

It was true I didn’t know, although I’m sure Una would have told me if they had.

Ah that’s good – missing me much?

I am actually…

What can I say, haha! I had a great time with you – glad my car broke down.

Me too.

I would have carried on and we’d never have met!

I know, I thought that too. Wish you’d stayed longer...

You’ll have to come here next time!

Would you really want me to?

Of course!

Good, because I’m here!

Ha ha, I wish.

A tap on my shoulder interrupted me from full on telling Jack that I really was there in New Zealand. I wished people wouldn’t do that, wouldn’t feel the need to physically touch me to get my attention, a simple ‘excuse me’ would have been fine.

‘Hey,’ said the girl beside me. I should probably say woman, shouldn’t I? She looked about the same age as me and I was a woman not a girl, but the word didn’t quite resonate with me. I didn’t feel grown up enough for that title.

I had no idea who she was, yet she spoke like she knew me. I’ve noticed that about the New Zealand twang, how friendly and familiar it is. Maybe I thought Jack liked me more than he did – because his accent had made me feel that way?

‘Eve,’ she said with her grubby hand outstretched, and I knew I’d have to take it.

And I know it sounds judgemental to assume she wasn’t hygienic but I have to be – it is a survival technique, you see. I have to always be one step ahead of everything. My mind works ten times faster because I need to know my next move, how I will avoid certain things (like handshakes) or people. I have to tread carefully like a bug in a Venus flytrap – Niall had told me about them – how they clamped shut on their unsuspecting prey and then gobbled them up. I hadn’t believed him until I’d watched a David Attenborough clip of it happening and could actually hear the flies squealing inside. They must have amplified the sound for extra effect but it was awful.

So, I have to judge. I have no choice. I don’t want to end up in a Venus flytrap (Eve’s hand).

Eve didn’t look like someone who washed much. She looked like she’d been travelling her whole life. Her mousey hair was matted in places and dreadlocked in others. It was partially up with colourful ties on the ends, and her eyes were blue like crystals. I’d never seen eyes quite like them, like they’d had blue dye injected into them.

‘Pearl.’ I shook hers back.

‘Top name.’ She smiled.

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