You Mustn't Give Your Heart To A Wild Thing

‘Verity, it’s uh, it’s ye Mother’

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d heard her voice, but that wasn’t to say I didn’t recognise it. ‘I forgot ye birthday, ‘m sorry. Jake reminded me last week and it must’ve slipped my mind, ‘ve been busy an’…well, Happy Birthday pet. If ye could give me a call when ye get this I can get ye address an’ see about sendin’ over a pressie; I can‘t believe I don‘t ‘ave my own daughters address. I…give me a call love, please. It’d be nice t’ catch up with ye’

Alex found me frozen to the spot; my pointed index finger poised above the ‘delete’ button. A large colourful bag was clutched in his hands and a bunch of heart shaped foil balloons were hovering just above his head. “Should I ask who that was?”

“It were my Mum” I mumbled quickly, “apologisin’ for missing my birthday”

He opened his mouth to pose the question I could read in his furrowed brow, but I continued before he had the chance. “Which she hasn’t, not even wi’ the time difference or whatever. ‘s my birthday today, everywhere. I can’t believe she got it wrong”

‘Your message has been deleted’

“Ye’d think that givin’ birth might be something that’d stick with ye”

Alex shrugged awkwardly, a clumsy smile smudging across his lips. He would happily wax lyrical about most things that bugged me, but when it came to my Mom he was always uncharacteristically silent. He didn’t feel comfortable…or something.

I shook my frustrations out through limp arms, “Are those for me?”

His smile slipped from smudged to sheepish and he answered, not with words, but by pushing the bag in my direction. It was filled to the very top with beautifully wrapped presents and gift boxes. Magenta and violet tissue paper filled the spaces between, and my name was scrawled messily on every heart shaped tag attached to each parcel; ‘love Alex’ scribed below. “Ye didn’t ‘ave to…”

“And risk that wrath when you thought I’d forgotten?” He chuckled lightly, “No thank you”

He passed the ribbon tethering the balloons from his right to left hand and then to mine, tangling the tendrils gently around my fingers, before closing my cupped hand completely and placing a soft kiss on my knuckles. “Happy Birthday”

My stomach did a dozen somersaults, a half dozen back-flips; a routine that would have any Russian gymnast clutching their gold medals close in fear. He was sweet, and he was kind. He could be too much, but right then he was just enough.

“A book token would suffice” I teased, pressing my lips against his briefly.

“There’s no room left on your bookshelf, and I am not going to Ikea again” He smirked, resting his chin atop my head. “The place is my idea of hell, I’m not a DIY kinda guy. I straighten my hair and write songs about girls, I don’t build, or saw, or sc…”

He caught himself, and I caught him. “Ye do plenty of screwin’” I chuckled, giving him a sly wink. “In fact, just last night we…”

“I know my wrapping looks too good to spoil, but I did mean for the presents to actually be opened” His eyes darted from mine as I raised my eyebrow sceptically and he continued as though he’d read my mind. “Well the women, in various stores‘…wrapping”

I grinned and took myself and my bag of goodies over to the couch, the bouquet of balloons following a half metre or so above my head. “Ye really…this is too much” I enthused, flopping down between the plush cushions and crossing my legs beneath me; the bag resting in my lap. I dug both hands in timidly, afraid I might break something, wary of catching my fingers on something fragile. It seemed to go on forever; my elbows were in danger of disappearing completely. “Really, ‘s crazy…’ow many…”

“Twenty one” He beamed proudly, taking a seat next to me and smoothing the front of his button down shirt. “Well, there’s twenty in there, twenty one is sort of a surprise, later”

I’d always had a love, hate relationship with surprises. When I was younger I’d loved the ‘surprise’ of Jake picking me up from school after he’d gone on and ahead to High School and I was happy, if not happiest when Nana would pull packets of popping candy from her purse on our visits. The idea had been tainted over the years though. The word surprise had become an excuse for something a person hadn’t wanted to or bothered to explain to me, and the fact that my Mum; the wordsmith that she was, had disclosed my fathers illness with a sentence that included both ‘surprise’ and ‘cancer’ hadn’t particularly helped my growing unease with the concept.

“It’s a good surprise” He assured somewhat hurriedly after catching the second of panic that had flashed across my face. “You’ll like it. I have it on good authority that you’ll like it”

“Ye had a little help from Sam” I smiled small; it was my turn to read his mind, or so I’d thought.

“Of course not” He objected, “You two don’t have secrets; I know that and the key to a good surprise is keeping it a secret. She has no idea”

I ruled out all of things Alex would need guidance on from Sam quickly in my head. Would she have even known my ring size if he’d asked? Had she studied every title of my first pressing vinyl’s, that I’d thrifted over the years and hawked all the way across the Atlantic, just because I liked their smell? Had he done the unthinkable and toyed with the idea of sending me home, agai…

“It’s not a plane ticket” He smiled clumsily; the right corner of his mouth crooked to that of his left. “I made that mistake once, at Christmas. I’ve never, ever, made the same mistake twice”

“Ye haven’t?” I asked, interested. I’d heard a dozen and one people claim it, but rarely was the phrase ’never, ever ‘ used and even rarer was the conviction or blatant honesty he spoke it with.

“Never” He repeated, with a shake of his head. “I learn. I’m a quick learner, I guess”

I smiled small, “Maybe ye could teach me t’ be the same sometime. I do the same things over an’…”

“I really do think you’re underestimating the effort those women went to to wrap these gifts” He interrupted, shuffling forward a little so as to peer into the endless pile of presents. “Start with the one there, by your pinky…the soft one”

I did as I was told, instantly, noticing his antsy disposition. He’d gone to all of this trouble and somehow; even through the brightly coloured tissue paper, the bows, the gift tags, I’d managed to steer our conversation around to what, the mistakes we’d made? I tore at the paper with both hands, it was soft, I figured soft things aren’t breakable.

The star splattered wrapping floated slowly to the floor and my eyes focused on the bunched up fabric in my hand; it was maroon in colour and tied into a messy ball with what looked like pink string.

“I’m not totally sure why she wrapped it like that, all screwed up…I think it was because I told her about the twenty one presents and she figured the smaller the packages the less problems I’d have” He shrugged, seemingly oblivious to the stunned, gawking expression that had forced its way onto my face. “You have to…you have to untie the string I guess, and then open the bag up”

I knew what was inside without even having to; I’d mused that the velvet bags were a nice touch as the cashier had served the lady next to us at Santa Monica market just two weekends ago.

“You really should open it” He smiled insistently, “As much as I love suspense, you’re killing me with…”

“I can’t believe ye went back and got it” I whispered, picking at the string with my fingernails. “Ye hate drivin’ in LA, ye moaned all the way out there…and then ye went back again?”

Alex said nothing, he kept his chocolate brown eyes fixed on mine and in that moment, I felt like the luckiest girl in the world. I followed his example and clamped my lips shut for the thirty seconds or so it took for me to loosen the pull strings of the bag, and empty its sparkling contents into the palm of my hand.

The locket was even more beautiful than I had remembered. The swirls adorning the small heart were delicate, ornate and perfect; the chains links were dainty, thin and elegant. It had caught my eye the moment we’d stepped up to the vintage jewellery booth, and though I’d said nothing to Alex he’d obviously caught on to my love for it. Maybe it was the shine dancing between my eyes? Or maybe it was the way in which I’d picked it up carefully and let it twirl and cascade through my fingers and down my wrist.

“Have a look inside”

As far as I knew there was one picture of Alex and I in existence. It was one taken in a photo booth on the pier, it was goofy and it lived in both mine and his wallet. It was too big to fit in the pendant.

“I asked Jake to email a picture of the pair of you” He explained as I opened up the silver heart timidly, and mine; of muscle and tissue, jumped up into my throat. “I’d like to think I’m the most important person in your life, but I know I’ll never beat him, so…”

His last words stung my ears. I knew they were about my brother, but a closer look at a phantom hand placed between the two of us had me thinking of someone else entirely; and the plans we’d made for this exact day…on that day.

The complete photo was in a brightly coloured Perspex frame that Mum had picked up from ‘Paddy’s Parties’; ‘Happy Birthday’ was written in large, cheery bubble writing beneath and cartoon balloons and streamers snaked their way up either side. And in the photo there was Jake, there was me, and there was Oli; biscuit-pupiled from the pre-birthday meal pick me ups and a little bloated from one too many slices of sponge cake. It had been Jakes twenty first birthday, and we’d spent the latter part of the evening dreaming of a group trip to Vegas the day I; the baby of the group, hit the big two one.
Jake knew this, Jake knew all of this.

“It’s so beautiful” I choked, passing the tears off as those of happiness. “I can’t believe ye did this, all of this, I…” I jumped a little at the sudden touch of Alexs thumb against my cheek. He brushed the tears from my right and then my left gently, before placing a soft, lingering kiss on the very tip of my nose.

“Happy six month anniversary” He breathed, his words tickling at my skin.

“What?” I asked, pulling myself away from him; both physically and mentally. “Ye…six…what? When did ye start countin’?”

The awkwardness of his smile was painful and incredible guilt spread throughout me as an intense scarlet washed across his cheeks. I hadn’t meant to be so abrupt, I hadn’t meant to be so cold. “Ye countin’ these things?” I said softly, shuffling across the couch so that I was almost in his lap; my bowed head always fitted perfectly in the space between his neck and shoulder and the tip of his chin atop my head always fitted like a puzzle piece. I placed my lips softly against the nape of his neck, but didn’t kiss. “I didn’t know that ye were….”

“I’ve been counting since the day I realised that you were it” He whispered.

&&

“You had no idea he was doing this?” Sam questioned, eyebrows raised.

I was still utterly speechless and my eyes were struggling to adjust to the bright lights after being blindfolded for a good twenty minutes or so. “Uh..no, I uh…I ‘ad no idea, I…”

“Happy Birthday!” Jacks arms were looped around me before I could finish my stammered answer and my head collided painfully with his collarbone as I tried to reciprocate his clumsy hug. “Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday too you…Happy Birthday dear Verity” He sang loudly, holding onto the ‘ty’ for longer than I thought humanly possible. “Happy Birthday to you!”

He flung me from his arms almost as quickly as he’d grabbed me into them and I felt another pair fall just above my hips. “There’s the birthday girl!”

I smiled awkwardly as Rian planted a sloppy kiss in the centre of my forehead, his wobble telling me that the beer in his hand; and that which was trickling slowly down my bare arm, wasn’t his first. I’d always felt a little out of place around the rest of Alexs band. They were like a club, a gang; as most bands are. They had private jokes that I still didn’t get and they constantly recalled stories that were chased with the phrase ‘I guess you had to be there’. They’d grown up together, they’d lived their lives together, and whilst I was getting to know each of them, they were seriously wondering if there was anything more to learn about each other. It made me think of home, and the people there. It was the same, but then, it really wasn’t.

In Sheffield I’d been part of it, in the belly of the swarm; in the eye of the storm. I’d known the jokes, I’d been ‘there’ when it had happened. I’d grown up with them, I’d lived my life alongside them, and whilst new people tried to figure out Nicholls or understand Curtis’ humour there was no doubt in my mind that I had it figured out, I understood. I knew them, and everything that made up each and every part of them.

“Let’s get you a drink” Sam mumbled, interrupting my daydream with a nudge of her elbow. “I’m gonna get her a drink Rian, you go…you go and keep Danny from eating all of the shrimp, you know how much he loves…”

Rian was gone before she’d even finished; forcing an unclear and untidy path through the crowd towards Danny and the buffet spread. “I don’t know if Danny likes shrimp or not” She shrugged, taking a hold of my arm and weaving the pair of us towards the brightly lit bar. “It’s not something we’ve discussed, I mean when would we, I…”

I knew she’d noticed my mind wandering again; the vacant expression that I knew would be spreading steadily across my face and all of its features. “I just thought you’d appreciate it if I stopped Dawson from ruining your dress any further with his beer”

“My dress is ruined?” I exclaimed suddenly, shaking Sam from me and twisting around manically to try and catch a glimpse of my back; and the wet patch that I could feel sticking the black satin fabric to my skin. “What d’ye mean ‘any further’? I…”

“Your dress is fine” Sam sighed, grabbing a stern hold of my flailing arm and pulling me back toward her. “It’s a tiny bit of beer Vee and your dress is black”

I went limp against her and threw a defeated, sideways glance in her direction. “I guess ye right, I just…”

“You need to get your head out of the clouds” She interrupted breezily, “Or Sheffield; wherever it is that it shouldn’t be. Because right now your thoughts should be with Alex, and the fact he’s thrown you a surprise party for your birthday”

I nodded slowly, flooded suddenly with sense; I was picking holes for the sake of it. I shouldn’t be thinking of home and the past, right now and from now on I should be thinking of here, and the future. I couldn’t pinpoint when Sheffield had turned into some sort of ‘heaven on earth’ in my head; some strange, suburban mecca, but that was bullshit. It was all bullshit. The ground in Sheffield was just as hard as that in LA when you fell. The people in Sheffield were just as complicated as their American counterparts. I was in the City of Angels, Sheffield was known as what…a city of Steel.

“I need t’ go and find Alex” I enthused quietly, unsure if Sam was even listening as drink after drink slipped from the tip of her tongue. It was a concoction that could kill me dead, and one which I should drink after telling Alex how perfect all of this was. “I’ll be back in a minute t’ help ye with the drinks, I just…”

I caught sight of him talking animatedly with a guy at the buffet; what looked like a mini crab cake cupped in a napkin in his palm, and a lopsided smile twitching across his lips. Even in the ambient light of the restaurant I could see his eyes shining and as the guy in front of him made shapes with his hands before raising his arms in the air, Alexs distinct chuckle burst through the room and I watched him throw his head back in raucous and uncensored laughter. He was incredible and it was aggravating that I’d really had to look, to realise that.

He caught me staring from across the room and I watched his mouth move to form a small ‘excuse me’, paired with a soft pat on the guys bicep as he moved in my direction.

“Stalker much?” He grinned, stumbling backward a little as I dove into his arms and crushed my lips against his; actions speak louder than words and all that. He looked a little flushed when I pulled away and I noticed the crab cake he was yet to eat, smushed into his shirt. It had made it through the entire day so far; from his closet, to his chest, to my bedroom floor and back again, but the party had been it’s downfall. “I can wash it” He soothed, brushing his fingertips up and down my forearm when he noticed my panicked expression. “You look beautiful”

“Ye’ve been with me all day” I smiled small, feeling a light blush wash over my cheeks as he tangled his fingers with mine. “Ye told me t’ wear this dress because ye like it. ‘s ain’t a revelation for ye Al, I’ve not gone an’…”

“Even with all of that, what’s to stop me from telling you that you’re beautiful” He sighed, fighting to keep his eyes from rolling; he hated when I would throw away his compliments. He wouldn’t believe me when I’d told him that all girls did it, that it was the natural female reaction to anything that wasn’t crass, anything that was more sincere than the ‘hot’ ‘sexy’ or any reference to ‘boning’. “Especially when it’s true”

“Give me ye napkin” I bustled, prying the navy diamond of fabric from his hand. “The grease’ll stain really bad if ye don’t mop it up right away”

He surrendered and let his arms fall heavily to his sides, a childish grin spreading across his face as I dabbed at the mess of crab and breadcrumbs just above his waistband. “What would I do without you?”

“ ‘s the million dollar question” I quipped, folding the napkin over and under itself; the squashed crab cake hidden within its folds. “There. If ye give it t’ me tomorrow morning I’ll wash it for ye, it’ll probably ‘av t’ be hand washed”

“Did we get married?” He teased, rushing a hand through his hair and messing it at the crown of his head. “Was I that drunk last weekend?”

“Ye were definitely that drunk” I smirked, “But we didn’t get married”

“Would you marry me if I asked you?”

“If ye asked nicely” I answered quickly, honestly. “An’ the rock were big enough”

“Would you marry me tomorrow?”

“I said if ye asked nicely”

“Would you marry me tomorrow, please?”

I couldn’t help but giggle. “Keep practicing, and one day…ye never know”

“You might take pity on me?” He chuckled, his eyebrows raised.

“I might realise ‘ow good I’ve got it”

His lips twitched rapidly between a smile and a frown; a perfect representation of what was going on in his head. I had an awful habit of taking him for granted, I knew that, but did he? Or was this the first time the thought had even occurred to him?

I stole his trick and began smoothing my fingertips gently and slowly up and down his forearm. “Ye the most important thing in my world right now, ye know that right? Sometimes I just get caught up, sometimes I forget, an’ sometimes, I guess, I just can’t see ‘ow perfect you are, for me” I revealed timidly, “When ye do stuff like this, an’ when ye so thoughtful as t’ get me that necklace that I didn’t even ask ye for…didn’ even mention, but somehow ye knew I fell in love with it, it amazes me. You, you amaze me Alex. And one day, maybe soon, I won’t need to realise…I won’t need ye to remind me how great this all is, because I’ll know it when I look at ye. I’ll look at ye and ‘ll know that ‘m exactly where I’m meant t’ be, with you”

“And you don’t see that now, when you look at me?”

I shook my head slowly, “ I’m too busy falling head over heels the fuck in love with ye. That’s the chaos that comes first”