Slam by Nick Hornby Read Free Book Online Page B

why don’t you just go?” she said.
    â€œOK. I will.”
    And I stood up, and she started to cry, and I didn’t know what to do.
    â€œI wish I’d never said that thing about wanting to be a model. I feel stupid now.”
    â€œOh, it’s nothing to do with that,” I said. “If anything, I think you’re out of my league.”
    â€œâ€˜Out of my league’?” she said. “Where did that come from?”
    I knew where it came from. It came from having a mum who was sixteen when I was born. If somebody knows about the history of my family, then it’s all they can see, and it’s all they can hear. I didn’t tell her any of that. I sat down on the bed and held her, and when she’d stopped crying she kissed me, and that was how we ended up having sex even though I’d decided not to. If I broke TH’s record of twenty-two and a half seconds, it couldn’t have been by more than that half-second.
    I told TH when I got home. I had to tell someone, but talking about that stuff is hard, so absolutely the best way is to say anything you’ve got to say to a poster. I think he was pleased. From what I knew of him, he’d have liked Alicia.

CHAPTER 3
    I dreamed my way through school for the next few weeks. I dreamed my way through life, really. It was all just waiting. I can remember waiting for a bus in that first week, the 19 that took me from my house to hers, and suddenly realizing that waiting for a bus was much easier than anything else, because it was all just waiting anyway. When I was waiting for a bus, I didn’t have to do anything else but wait, but all the other waiting was hard. Eating breakfast was waiting, so I didn’t eat much. Sleep was waiting, so I couldn’t sleep much, even though I wanted to, because sleeping was a good way of getting through eight hours or whatever. School was waiting, so I didn’t know what anyone was talking about, during the lessons or at break times. Watching TV was waiting, so I couldn’t follow the programs. Even skating was waiting, seeing as how I only went skating when Alicia was doing something else.
    Usually, though, Alicia wasn’t doing anything else. That was the incredible thing. She wanted to be with me as much as I wanted to be with her, as far as I could work out.
    We never did much. We watched TV in her room, or sometimes downstairs, especially if her parents were out. We went for walks in Clissold Park. You know that bit in a film when they show couples laughing and holding hands and kissing in lots of different places while a song plays? We were like that, a bit, except we didn’t go to lots of different places. We went to about three, including Alicia’s bedroom.
    We were in Clissold Park when Alicia told me she loved me. I didn’t know what to say, really, so I told her I loved her too. It would have seemed rude not to.
    â€œReally?” she said. “You really love me?”
    â€œYeah,” I said.
    â€œI can’t believe it. Nobody has ever said that to me before.”
    â€œHave you ever said it to anyone before?”
    â€œNo. Course not.”
    That explained why nobody had ever said it to her, I thought. Because if someone tells you she loves you, then you’re bound to say it back, aren’t you? You have to be pretty hard not to.
    And anyway, I did love her. Someone like my mum would say, Oh, you’re just a kid, you don’t know what love is. But I didn’t think of anything else apart from being with Alicia, and the only time I felt like I was where I wanted to be was when I was with her. I mean, that might as well be love, mightn’t it? The kind of love my mum talks about is full of worry and work and forgiving people and putting up with things and stuff like that. It’s not a lot of fun, that’s for sure. If that really is love, the kind my mum talks about, then nobody can ever know if they love somebody,