This Turbulence is Beautiful.

If I had known what it felt like to pass out, I would have done everything in my power to stop it. As soon as I woke up, sprawled across the sofa with a blanket chucked over me, Matt ran over to me to check to see if I was okay. I flushed red when I realised what had happened.

“Damn, Josh, you didn’t have to give her mouth-to-mouth after all,” I heard Max whisper in the background. Josh merely smacked him on the arm as we caught each others’ eye. He blushed lightly, and my cheeks darkened.

Apart from that, Josh and I had had barely any contact- occasional embarrassed glances aside. When I had bumped in to Josh coming out of the kitchen, I had- key word- accidentally checked him out. I had never felt more embarrassed in my life, and he had sort of smirked, before realising that we weren’t talking and regaining his cool and collected composure. I smiled as I walked in the opposite direction to him, because I just felt that little bit cheekier.

I was stuck as to whether I minded that Josh and I technically weren’t talking. It wasn’t like we chose not to- just neither of us seemed to be able to find the words to say. Every time I thought of possible conversation, I’d look at him and my mind would just go blank. I was sort of happy that it wasn’t beyond awkward for everyone else as well- they all just seemed to enjoy making jokes so that we were suffering.

That was, until I heard Max, Matt and Dan talking in the kitchen one time.

“To be fair,” Max mumbled, unaware that I was standing behind the closed door- a sign that serious talk was taking place, “I think Josh is doing the right thing. They aren’t even talking at the moment.”

“I don’t blame Rosie for being scared off,” Dan sighed, “It’s not like any of us can seriously think about long-term-relationships lasting when we’re away for at least half of the year at a time- and Rosie has told Josh countless times that she only wants normal.”

“Can you blame her for wanting normal after everything?” Matt offered, as another sigh echoed around the room.

Someone was drumming their fingers on the table. Max laughed slightly, “This is ridiculous, guys. Why are we all so affected by this? If Josh knew we were even thinking about getting involved, he would have out guts for garters.”

“We only want him to be happy, it’s just that we’re stuck knowing what would actually make him feel better. He’s had a grump on all week, and I know he’s normally like this when he’s writing lyrics anyway, but, honestly? It’s starting to really get on my tits,” Matt mumbled. Silence fell over them after someone murmured in approval.

So, it had been a week since Josh and I had ended up fumbling on the sofa, as Matt put it, and he was already getting over it. As I walked into the kitchen, nothing was said, but I could tell they were all panicking as to whether I heard. I acted as happy as I could feign for thirty seconds, until Josh came into the house and sat on the kitchen counter next to me. I took this time to switch on the television and watch the X-men movie Josh had lent me, and pretended to be asleep when they came in. Matt carried me upstairs and attempting to talk to me when he placed me onto the bed- “You can stop pretending to sleep now, Rosie.” I didn’t falter. I didn’t want to talk, so I kept silent. He sighed, and walked out of the room, muttering a “g’night” and closing the door.

In spite of this turn of events and my own curiosity being my downfall, I was feeling particularly festive. I was ready for Christmas, and it had come around with bells on. Josh’s mum had insisted on making us a ready-to-cook turkey, so all we had to do was figure out the times of when to cook everything and we’d be set for a feast. We all planned to spend Christmas morning peeling carrots and crossing sprouts and greasing baking trays, and in our heads it was all going to go smoothly. How smoothly it did run, however, was yet to be determined.

I had one day left to work- tonight- before I had time off for Christmas, which was in two days time. John was going away for the festive season so we were shut for a little while, and I was more than grateful, especially as it meant I had one more day to do some extremely last minute Christmas shopping, and a week after that to work my way through the sale racks with the girls.

With my nails that I had successfully painted in two equally hideous shades of red and green that only came out at Christmas time and a long jumper-dress with a knitted pattern that I considered to be festive enough when I had bought it last week, I was ready for work. John had offered me a pair of reindeer antlers, and Charlie had enthused that I should wear them, saying he would wear a pair if I did, but I declined. I already looked like a three-year-old, with my festive get-up and the stupid grin on my face. I had practically skipped to work today, ready to get it done with so I could spend Christmas with my new but already dear friends. Matt had even told me that if I was lucky they might bring out the acoustic guitars and play me a few songs from the new album. I did my fair share of encouragement in this, but I had a more-than-good hunch that Josh would flat out refuse.

Humming a tune that had been stuck in my head since someone had played it on the jukebox in the bar earlier, I checked the reservations booked for tonight. We’d had three tables booked, but two had cancelled due to the sudden downpour of rain this morning that had frozen in our later sub-arctic temperatures, slicking the roads and providing plenty of accidents all over the country. Surrey seemed to have been hit particularly badly, and Weybridge wasn’t an exception. There was still a table of two booked in, due to enter in about fifteen minutes. I readied the table with a big glittery red candle that had been left over from last year, a big grin on Charlie’s face as he inspected my handy work from the front of the restaurant. The table John had chosen for the couple tonight was near the back of the room as the door occasionally blew open and he didn’t want their chosen dinners to be chilled every time it did so.

What I didn’t expect, however, was that thirty minutes later, I would be stood in the bar, with my elbows rested on the surface as I stuck my bottom lip out and tried not to make any eye contact with the first half of the couple to arrive. I certainly hadn’t expected Josh to walk through the doors of the diner tonight, and I definitely hadn’t expected him to practically ignore me and tell John he had a table booked. He made no attempt to say hello to me, apart from a small nod in my direction.

Charlie coughed and looked up from his crossword, looking at me with a tilt of his head as he took a small sip of his whiskey and water- the only alcohol he drank in here and even that was on special occasions, today’s being of the festive kind. I smiled, my clenched fist moving away from my mouth so he could see said smile.

He smiled back, “How did things go with that Hayley bloke?”

I laughed, “Hayden?”

“Yes, him; are you still seeing him?”

I sighed and shook my head, keeping a small smile on my face despite my plummeting mood, “Nope,” I popped the ‘P’ sound, trying to sound as nonchalant as I could manage.

“Oh, well, I could tell he wasn’t the right guy for you.”

I frowned, “Really?”

He nodded in a similar way that Matt normally did when he was telling me that he knew best, except with Charlie I could sort of believe it, “I never did understand why you were courting him when there were so many better men for you.”

I laughed slightly, “Like whom, Charlie? I could do with some romantic advice.”

John crept up upon hearing these words, “Is Charlie offering you words of wisdom, Rosie?” We looked at the older man expectantly. He paused, and nodded slowly.

“What about your friend, Matt?”

Even John smiled at this, “She’s too close to Matt, I reckon.”

“Yes, yes, she never talks about him in anyway more than just friends.”

“I am still here guys,” I called, although I stood up straight when a young woman walked in to the bar, “Hey, can I help you?”

“Hi, I have a reservation under Price?” She looked around the room, before settling her eyes on Josh and flashing him a warm smile. I looked between the two as Josh gave a small wave her way and smiled back, “Oh, never mind, he’s already here. Would it be okay for me to get a hot chocolate?”

I smiled and nodded as she moved away, walking over to Josh. He stood and they shared a small hug, as John started making the hot chocolate and took it over to their table, giving them menus to look at. I resumed my former position, my head leant into my hands, and resting on the bar, sighing.

“Is it that fellow, then, Rosie?”

I looked up at Charlie, who wasn’t even looking at me. He was looking towards his paper as he filled in one of the clues for the cryptic crossword, chewing on the lid of the pen that was between his teeth, the small smile that was always on his lips hidden as he struggled with a particularly tough clue and his teeth gritted against the pen lid. Frowning, and sort of feigning confusion, I looked closely at him, “What?”

“Nothing, love,” he smiled, looking up at me, “Jamie’s calling for you in the kitchen.” I shook my head, trying to get myself together, and went back to the kitchen to see what Jamie wanted.

“Alright, Rosie?” he asked, as soon as I pushed open the door. I nodded, studying my thumb carefully as there was almost a hangnail. He looked at me, tilting his head, as the second chef, Aaron, who was there to learn on an apprenticeship looked up from the fridge they were sorting and smiled at me shyly. He was just as new as I was, and we hadn’t quite mellowed towards each other enough for casual chatter.

John walked in, “Check on, Chef- one fish and chips and one ham, egg and chips,” he walked out as quickly as he’d burst through the door. Jamie bustled around and occasionally told Aaron what to do. I stood, watching without really realising.

“Can I help you, Rosie?” Jamie smiled up at me. It was nice that he was relaxed- when we were busy, as we often were over the Christmas season, he became what could only be referred to as an asshole.

“I was just watching…” I trailed off, feeling instantly embarrassed. I seemed to get caught up in my mind a little too often. I quickly changed the subject, “Anyway, were you calling for me?”

“I just wondered what you were still doing here, since there’s bugger all to do. Figured you could help us out a little in the kitchen; John mentions you’re a bloody excellent cleaner.”

My world sort of went on hold as I took the next few minutes to ponder over my life briefly, whilst I sank my elbows into the suds in the sink to start clearing some of the plates and saucepans the boys had pulled out to clean for the hell of it. I started scrubbing at some dirt that I figured would never come off, and separated my life in to three sections: Before-Taylor, With-Taylor, After-Taylor; each described a divide in my living, and seemingly, in my mentality.

We’ll start with Before-Taylor. I was a pretty easy-going little girl. I liked to spend my days lazily by the river, lulling around with Matthew (as this was before we realised it was a little uncool to refer to each other with full-syllable-names) and my other friends. Then, along came the event that temporarily rid me of my easy-going nature, and sent me into submission: from that point onwards, I was the little girl without a father, without a brother, without a clue; my only help was my shell of a mother, who after a while I lost to the hospital anyway. My replacement for this was sympathy- and I got it by the bucket load. My auntie moved in from over the road, for she was lonely by herself, and cared for me- loading me with gifts and cups of tea so heavily laced with sugar that I should have had at least twenty fillings by the time I was ten. I guess it was her way of making it up to me. I still spent my spare time with Matt and our friends, and I still lulled around, procrastinating, with occasional isn’t-she-doing-wells from people I never really knew.

I developed my personality very little. The only real drama I had in my life was hitting puberty, where I developed my crush on Matt that seemed to be the be all and end all of my existence for precisely two weeks. Then came the hectic time of Matt hitting puberty- a few months later than me, but boy did he make up for lost time. His temper would flicker in a heartbeat, and often resulted in crude words aimed at his mother, slammed doors aimed at his father, and complaints about them both aimed at me. The biggest turning point of our friendship was the first time we got drunk- together, by the river, just to try it out- and he tried to kiss me. I pushed him away, and he laughed. This was how I knew we would be friends forever; despite his temper at the time, we could only laugh about it. And we did so, until about one in the morning when his mother came and found us, and dragged us back home, her nails digging into each of our arms angrily. We would look at each other behind her back and try and hold back laughter.

Then I discovered what a real crush felt like, hence With-Taylor. With started off pretty basically: shared portions of chips after school on the way home; a kiss on the cheek as we parted that made me weak at the knees for hours; plenty of babbling on to Matt about him for weeks without stopping. With-Taylor helped me develop my girly side a bit more: I started really giving a crap about what I looked like, which delighted my auntie as she was dying to take me clothes shopping. I even tried to stop biting my nails for a little while.

With-Taylor seemed to also be where I mellowed- even more, if that was possible. I settled for the simple life, and since then I guess that was what I always wanted. It had seemingly rubbed off to After-Taylor Rosie as well, because here I was, lifting a soapy pan from the sink to discover that I had, in fact, cleaned the scummy pan. I was scrubbing pans like a regular little housewife, when perhaps that wasn’t destined to be after all. Well, shit.

And actually, if I looked over my After-Taylor life, I was quite a bit different. When I was with Taylor, I had few friends that I really got on with well enough to live with. I couldn’t have possibly handled living with Millie- not only could I not trust her as far as I could throw her, but she was a sex addict in the extreme. It would have been hell to hear her screaming names of new guys every week. Mark had been about the only one to stick around, and that was only because he was as much of a nymphomaniac as she was.

Really, I don’t know why I hadn’t come back to Weybridge sooner. It was my home. Sure, it held bad memories, but I wasn’t the kind of person to hold on to the kind of thing that would hurt me more and more if I thought about it. And slowly, I was starting to build up new memories to complete the old good ones, with the help of Matt and his friends. The fact that I had even gelled with his friends was amazing. Normally I needed colossal amounts of help to get the courage to talk to anyone- which is why I was so scared originally when Matt had told me to meet Josh at the train station. In my head I was this cool and somewhat savvy girl, but really, I was easily embarrassed and would quite happily take shit to avoid confrontation. I liked to think I was a little bit different now: whilst I would always steer clear of conflicts, I now at least had people to talk about it with.

I had even managed to stop biting my nails.