Chasing Chaos

June 2009

I wrapped my arms around his neck, grinning wildly and pulling him into an impossibly tight hug. “I missed yeh.”

“Missed yeh too, Anna,” Tom matched my enthusiasm, curling his arms around my middle affectionately.

It had been months since we’d been in the same place at the same time. I wasn’t going to university in Sheffield. I’d opted to go to the University of Birmingham. It wasn’t exactly far away from home, less than two hours. But it was far enough away that my parents wouldn’t be popping in for any regular visits. Also far enough away to be inconvenient for me to go home each time the guys were home. But I’d decided to stay in Sheffield for the summer before my final year. I loved Birmingham in its own way and I loved my Birmingham friends; there was no doubt in my mind about that. But it just wasn’t the same. Something was calling me back home. There was a longing ache in my stomach to be there. The familiarity or the memories or something.

“So this is the place, eh?” I looked around as he let me into the apartment he shared with his brother and Nicholls.

He nodded. “Sorry it’s a bit of a mess… Been gone a lot.”

“Yeh shoulda seen our room at school. Katie’s a slob.”

“Katie?”

“My roommate and bestie; the lass I talk ‘bout constantly?”

“Oh aye…”

“She’s from the States; came here to study for a term and ended up jus’ stayin’, didn’t want to go back. I know I’ve told yeh of her… She’s the Birmingham version o’ you. My Brummie Tom.”

“I knew yeh’d replaced me!” He accused teasingly.

“Never.” I frowned.

“I were kiddin’.” He smiled at me but I was still somewhat serious.

“Don’t joke. Yeh know yer irreplaceable to me. My best mate.” I held my wrist up to him. At first he didn’t understand why; he just stared. But when he looked closer, he saw a braided yarn bracelet hanging there loosely. His smile widened and his blue eyes lit up.

“Anna!” He exclaimed. “Yeh still ‘ave ‘at?”

“I found it yesterday when I was movin’ things around my room. I pulled the bed out from the wall and it was there.” I ran my fingers across the tattered strings. If I continued to wear it all the time, it wasn’t going to hold up very long. I’d worn it every day for a year until one morning when I woke up without it.

He was astonished. “I can’t believe it. ‘At’s old as fuck.”

I nodded. “Like four or five years.” I tried to recall when we had made the matching bracelets but time got a little fuzzy after awhile, especially when you were hanging out with the same person for ten years. Tom’s bracelet had broken just a few weeks after we’d made them but I continued to wear mine.

Without warning, Tom pulled me into another hug. It was very nice, a warm and familiar thing. Tom was like a safety blanket to me, something I could pick up whenever I wanted to feel at home. Something that I didn’t know I needed until I didn’t have it. When he pulled away after a moment, he very sincerely said “’M sorry I haven’ been ‘round fer yeh lately. Not callin’ when I should and not comin’ to see yeh.”

I shook my head, surprised by his sudden apology. It was unnecessary. Even if he’d not talked to me for ten years and then beat up my mother, I probably wouldn’t be mad. He’d still be my Tom. “Don’ be sorry. I haven’ been tryin’ very hard either.”

“But yeh got a good excuse; yer goin’ to school and tryin’ to get a real job someday.”

“Aye, an’ yer actually havin’ fun, actually doin’ somethin’ exciting. Tha’s a betta excuse.”

He seemed to catch the word ‘actually’. It had not been my intention to say that out loud. “Yer not havin’ fun?”

“I am. Jus’ not as much as you lot.” I brushed my hand over his hair, tousling it a little. The truth was that I just wasn’t having as much fun as I did when I was home.

“Yeh’d tell me ef yeh weren’ happy righ?”

“O’ course.”

“Promise?”

“Pinky promise.” I stuck my little finger at him and he nodded, locking his own around it with a nod.

Tom and I were living proof that male-female friendships could work platonically under the right circumstances. It had never been any other way with us, though on two occasions we discussed the possibility. On the first occasion, we were young, still in Secondary. Most of our peers just assumed that we were a couple because we spent so much time with one another. Our conversation had been a clarifying one, going something like “We’re not a couple, are we? No, I didn’t think so”. It was nothing further. The second occasion was more recent, the summer before this one. Just out of curiosity, I asked him if there was ever a time he thought of me in that way. He’d told me very plainly that he might have eventually, if things had been different. And I knew what he meant immediately. He meant he might have eventually thought of me that way if things had been different with Oli and me. I thought about this, considered it very carefully, and I realized I felt the same. I probably would have ended up with Tom. We were perfectly trusting of one another. We could spend days upon days together and never grow tired of it. We knew all there was to know about the other. He was sweet and caring and I adored him with every inch of me.

And I knew he was right. Eventually, we would have been more. If things had been different.

But as things stood, he was my best friend. Always would be just that. No regrets.

“D’yeh wanta go for food? I’m fuckin’ starved,” he said.

I nodded. “Can we have take-away and go to Endcliffe? ‘S one of the things I missed most… chasin’ the ducks with yeh at the park.” I knew he would approve of this idea. There was no way he wouldn’t. I knew this was one of his favorite things too.

“Fine by me.”

“I havta pee ‘fore we go anywhere though.”

“O’reight.”

Their apartment made me simultaneously laugh and cringe. It was such a guy place. It was total chaos. On my journey to use the toilet I found trainers in the middle of the hallway, a poster of a nearly naked girl on one of the bedroom doors and a half full beer can on the sink by their toothbrushes and ashtray. I wondered if it was really necessary to have an ashtray in there. Then I began wondering if any of them actually still smoked cigarettes because I’d known them to smoke a lot of weed and very few tobacco products. After that I noticed that someone had missed the ashtray all together and put a cigarette out on the side of the sink. And I made a mental note to bring over some cleaning supplies. I knew they would be in and out of town all summer but it couldn’t hurt them to have it a bit tidier, especially if I’d be coming over frequently. Which I intended.

Though I loved them dearly, my parents and I had never really come to an agreement on the debate over who should control my life, me or them. They resented me a tad for believing that I should decide. They had not been able to manage my older brother Sam and had then made it their mission to demand perfection and utter respect from me. It had worked until I was sixteen. Things changed then and had never been exactly simple since.

Thus my need to be away from their home as often as possible. And thus my intention to be at Tom’s as often as possible.

I’d finished peeing and was pulling my jeans up to my hips when a very groggy someone opened the door without knocking. “Oy! Sorry!” The confused person called out and I laughed. I hadn’t realized anyone but Tom was home; it was already mid-afternoon. I shrugged and checked my hair in the dirty mirror. Over the years, I had come to accept the thick red brown mess of waves. I’d stopped trying to straighten it like everyone else did with theirs. It would just fuzz out back to waves in the typical English rain. I’d gladly decided that my unruly hair looked just wild enough to seem intentional.

I flattened out my shirt and went to leave the tiny messy space.

“Savanna?” The only person in the world that called me by my given name was Tom’s older brother Oli. And sure enough, he was standing by the bathroom in his boxers. “I didn’ know yeh was even in Sheffield.”

“All summer.” I looked straight in his eyes, not wanting to seem like I was scoping out his half-nakedness. Which I would have been if it wasn’t weird to do so. Because frankly, he was nice to look at.

“Tha’ right?”

“Mmhmm.” I smiled. He was looking at me strangely. Maybe I’d grown a third eye without my knowledge. “Tommy an’ I are goin’ to go have lunch er summat in a minute ef yeh wanta come,” I stated, being polite more than anything. He rubbed his forehead and I realized he smelled a bit like vomit. “Yeh look like yeh got a head on yeh. Some greasy chips’ll help.”

“’S prob’ly true. Yeh goin’ now?"

“Soon.”

“I need trousers first.”

I didn’t think he was actually going to say yes. A little stumped, I said “O’reight, we’ll wait fer yeh then.” I walked away from him without saying anything else. I honestly had no problem with him; we were fairly amicable with the other. But sometimes, I got the impression that he didn’t care to be around me much. Though admittedly my only evidence was the fact that he didn't actively attempt to be in my company.

When I made my way back to Tom, I informed him. “Oli’s up. ‘E’s gonna come along.”
“’E’s up? Tha’s a surprise as pissed as he were last night.”

I shook my head. Oli and drunkenness were no strangers. In fact, I knew them to be quite close friends. The last time I’d seen him, sometime in January or February, he was puking in the back alleyway of a club. I hadn’t anticipated that he would change much in six months. I imagined that he would always be that way, raising as much hell as his liver allowed.

“Yeh know anywhere I can find a job?” I asked Tom while we waited for Oli. “I need one badly. I have about fifteen quid ta my name.”

“No clue. Where yeh wanna work?

“Anywhere but with Mum at the library. ‘M never sortin’ another fuckin’ book there again. Hate tha’ place.”

“’S not fair. We ‘ad some good times when yeh worked there.”

He was alluding, of course, to the times when he would roll spliffs and we’d smoke them during my break. To be fair, they were some of my favorite memories, especially the times when he would bring me food after I went back to sorting library books, stoned and starving. Were these memories why I’d missed Sheffield so much? It was a possibility. Were memories enough to draw me so strongly?

“’Oo left a perfectly good beer in the loo?” Oli came to the living room carrying the can I’d seen on the sink.

“Tha’ were yeh,” Tom stated.

“It were? Don’ remember…” His lip did that awkward pout thing and there was a brief and strange fondness in my chest for it.

“Yeh was plastered.”

“Aye, I was… Don’ know ef I can be doin’ tha’ again tonight.”

“We were thinkin’ o’ havin’ a welcome home party for yeh… Ef yeh want,” Tom said to me. “Jus’ the usual crowd.”

I grinned. “Sounds brilliant.”

--

June 2005

I was tremendously disoriented, totally out of my element. When Tom had disappeared from my side in the scattering of people, I nearly ditched the whole idea and left. I was still kind of awkward then. Though I was sixteen, my parents didn’t let me go out a whole lot. It had been an ordeal trying to get them to allow me to go to a gig. They’d only met Tom’s older brother Oliver once or twice but that was enough for them to see he had ‘trouble’ practically etched onto his forehead. They didn’t like the idea of me being in the same city as boys like him, let alone the same club. But Tom, who my parents adored, had promised to keep me safe and to have me home at a reasonable hour. That’s why I was a little upset when he’d told me to ‘stay put’ while he talked to someone.

There wasn’t an overwhelming amount of people in the venue but everyone in the whole place looked about a million times tougher than me. Girls with oodles of tattoos and boys with even more. All of them sneering at me. I had no real problem with tattoos; in fact, I was sort of intrigued by the idea of getting a tattoo. But there was definitely something about tattoos that screamed badass. And I was definitely, most certainly not a badass in any way shape or form. I was just plain Anna. Except when I was Savanna.

“Oy! Savanna!” Someone put their arm around my shoulder, coming up to me from behind. I turned anxiously. It was Oli.

“Yeh know, every’un calls me Anna. My mum calls me Anna… even when she’s angry,” I told him. “Ann or Annie works jus’ fine too.”

“But yer name’s Savanna, ain’t it?”

“Well, yeah…”

“Then I’ll call yeh Savanna.” His words were a little slurred.

“Okay, I guess.” I shrugged.

“Are yeh even old enough ta be en ‘ere, love? Don’ yeh got curfew?” He’d always treated me exactly like what I was: his little brother’s best friend. He’d known me since I was ten years old, when my family had moved to Sheffield from Mansfield. Oli had witnessed my growing up. I wasn’t surprised when he ruffled my hair.

“Stop,” I swatted his hand away. “An’ I’m sixteen. More than old enough to be out at bloody eight o’ clock.” It annoyed me slightly that I was finally sort of grown up and Oli still treated me this way, with the hair ruffling and the teasing.

“Sixteen? Really?”

“Really.” I rolled my eyes. “Don’t yeh got some songs to be playin’ er summat?”

“No, I got some pints ta be drinkin’. Still two bands before we’re on and ‘m not near wasted enough.” His arm was still around me. It made me nervous to have it there. Oli, in general, made me nervous. “Don’ look so fuckin’ unhappy, lass.”

“Tom left me by myself.”

“’E’s a wanka.” His breath traveled in my direction. He smelled like alcohol already. No surprise there. “Le’s get yeh a drink too. Tha’ll cheer yeh right up.”

“Oh no… Not right now. I don’t think—“

“It won’t kill yeh.” He was leading us towards the bar.

“My mum’ll—“

“She won’t know.”

“She’ll know ef I come home pissed.”

“Yeh won’t be drunk. Jus’ a drink er two.” He was very convincing. He said it so sincerely. There was something about him that was incredibly charming, albeit slightly unnerving.

“Just a couple,” I said explicitly. “An’ nothin’ too strong. Unless yeh want me to have a sick on yer shoes later.”

“That’a girl!”

He was drunk, I knew. But it was still kind of nice to be getting his attention. I’d seen the sort of girls he usually went around with and I didn’t compare in the slightest. I was fairly average looking. I’d just recently gotten over my aversion to make up and fitted clothing. And I’d never really got the hang of flirting. Like I said, I was awkward and a bit timid. I didn’t have a bunch of friends; I only ever really hung around Tom. I didn’t stand out too much. So I didn’t really expect Oli to give me much more than fleeting glances or waves. It was slightly unusual for him to be hanging around me. We weren’t exactly the same sort of people. Me, the prissy little good girl and him, the epic partier older brother.

“There yeh go.” He pressed a glass into my hand while taking his own. This was when he looked at me with a strange and wicked smirk. “Ef I ask yeh sumthin, will yeh be honest?”

My eyebrows furrowed, not my most attractive look I’m sure. “I guess so, yeah.”

“Are yeh bonkin’ my brother?”

I nearly choked on my drink. I imagine there are more vulgar ways he could have said that and he was using a euphemism for the sake of my fairly innocent air. “I’m sorry?”

“Tommy and you… yer fuckin right?” Ah, there was the vulgarity you would expect.

“Um, no…”

“No?”

“No.”

“Well damn… ‘E told me the same thing.”

“’Cause it’s true. ‘S not like that with us.” It never had been.

“Yer certain?”

“Quite.”

“I knew 'e liked fellas.”

“What? No!”

“How else could 'e not be shaggin’ yeh?”

“I… don’t understand.”

“Yeh like blokes, don’t yeh?”

“Aye…”

“Well, the only explanation is ‘e’s mental or gay ef he’s not takin’ advantage of the fit lass righ’ in front o’ 'is eyes.”

He was much drunker than I’d originally thought. Not that my heart didn’t start beating exceptionally fast anyway. It did. But I just couldn’t believe he’d give me even an off-handed compliment.

“It’s not like that with us,” I repeated. “'E fancies this girl tha’ works at the grocery… She’s called Mary.”

“An’ yeh don’ fancy ‘im?” Oli looked surprised.

“No, I don’t.” I sipped at my beer. I’d never really acquired a taste for it but drank it regardless.

“’S there another bloke that yeh fancy then?”

“Hmm, no…”

“No?”

“No.” My awkwardness prevented anymore words on my part. And Oli became rather distracted by the blond bartender anyway.

“Anna?” Tom finally found me. “I’m sorry I left yeh, I were—are yeh drinkin’? Thought yer mum said—“

“She were thirsty,” Oli interrupted.

“'E bought it.” I pointed at Oliver and shrugged.

Tom looked from his brother to me and back again with narrow eyes. “Oli… bought yeh a drink…” The idea wasn’t sitting well with him.

“Aye,” Oli spoke. “Yeh left the poor lass by herself. Yeh know she’s shy.”

Of course Tom knew that but how did Oli know it?

“Sorry.” Tom looked at me apologetically.

“’S o’reight. But now yeh owe me a drink.” I grinned at Tom. I was feeling a little bold; maybe it was from Oli’s compliment.

“I told yer mum tha’ yeh wouldn’ get into any trouble with me…”

“Two drinks isn’t trouble. Yeh’ve seen me after two drinks, yeh know ‘s not bad. My mum won’t know the difference.”

“Jus’ let her, Tommy,” Oli slurred. Maybe not helping my case any.

Tom scowled slightly but relented. “O’reight.”

Tom wasn’t the partier his brother was. Nor was I. We drank but never in the quantity or with the same fervor as Oli. We tagged along to the parties occasionally but I usually had to be home early. And if I didn’t, we were always the ones helping people get home safely. We laid low for the most part and it suited us at the time.

“Oy Tommy, d’yeh know lil’ Savanna were o’ready sixteen?” Oli asked, slapping his brother’s shoulder.

Tom stared at me with scrunched brows and then without looking at Oli once he said “I did know.”

“The two of yeh ain’t kids anymore, are yeh?”

I shook my head. “No…”

But honestly, around him, I still felt like a kid.