Messages To Joe | J.S

{0038}

Friday September 19th 2018:

Although I'd landed earlier, it felt like I have 5 minutes to re-pack for Brighton. Luckily, we didn't need to take a lot of things because it's just overnight but you never know what a YouTuber (or three, in this case) may have planned so you must always take a spare set that you don't mind getting wet (innuendo bingo) or covered in whipped cream (pie face or something like 'eat it or wear it') so I did so.

When I arrived at Joe's, I was so tired as I'd flown in at 1am that morning. Not being funny, but if you are going to get a cheaper flight and you can miss a couple hours of sleep, you go for it. If your me, that is. Caspar opened the door (after answering the buzzer in a croaky voice) to me. "Oh hi," he smiled weakly. "Sorry if I sound bad, I have a cold. Don't get too close to me - or Joe - as you could catch it," speaking of Joe, where is he? I put my suitcase beside the table and sat on a chair there.

"I don't think you'll need to worry about that," I laughed, "do you know where Joe is?"

"JOE?!" He shouted about as loud as he could manage with his throat. There was no reply for a while until there were footsteps coming up the stairs. If I'm honest, I've never really understood the layout of this 'flat' which is practically a house with an upstairs and downstairs. Firstly, the bedrooms are downstairs with the stairs just coming up from the floor and also, the whole living room thing with the table and the kitchen which I get so confused about. Snapping me out of my meaningless thoughts, Joe was approaching me. I stood up as if on instinct to give him a hug.

"Sorry," he said, "I've had such a terrible morning and I've only just got out of the shower and gotten dressed.

"But you don't have wet hair...?" I giggled, removing myself from the hug and grabbing my bag again. "Are you lying to me, Sugg?"

"No! Never, I used a hairdryer, duh !" I began laughing even harder - five minutes and this is the most fun I've had all week - "what?! I have long hair," as if to demonstrate and prove a point, he ran his hand through the luscious locks of his.

"I think that they were made for girls," I smiled.

"Well, we live in such a modern age now that we are allowed the freedom to do whatever the fuck we want !" He growled aggressively, causing an eruption of laugher from both Caspar and I.

"Just go already you two, I want to rest," Caspar groaned so we said our goodbyes and got into the car.

"I never even knew you had a car, YouTubers almost never drive unless - no, no they practically never do. The only people I've seen drive is Alfie in his driving test thing that is an advert and Zoë when they're on long journeys," his small car beeped a high pitched sound and he opened the boot, placing our two bags (his seeming bigger than mine despite the fact I'm a girl, probably the hair styling equipment that takes up so much of the room) inside and slamming it, ensuring it was secure.

"It's so weird you know so much about me, I feel like I don't even know a quarter of the equivalent about you !" We both go into apposing sides and shut the doors. "You know," he began, looking a lot more serious all of a sudden, scaring me a bit inside. I'd never actually seen Joe serious - or heard him through text to be serious - and it was an odd expression on his face: no smirk, no dimples, no twinkle in his eyes. "I'm sorry, for everything."

"What do you mean everything?" I breathed deeply, beginning to feel worried and claustrophobic. 

"Before, like three years ago before. I caused you so much stress and it wasn't okay for me to do that," the eye contact between me and him was nonexistent, he kept his head low.

"Yeah, but then I got over it - and my GCSE's - and we're here now, three years later, and I'm fine," he placed a hand on my knee and looked at me for the first time since he began to talk. "Joe, that wasn't your fault any-"

"It was my fault ! I messaged you like, every day or something, and you always replied but I felt like I was forcing you to talk to me, you had enough stuff going on in your life without me doing that to you," he squeezed my knee slightly. "But I don't want to do that again. I realise we only met - like - not that long ago and we're practically strangers, so don't think I'm making you come with me today, you can turn around and go home now, no hard feelings."

"Joe, oh my shit! Shut up, will you? My problems were not your fault and that's why I made a point of not telling you all my problems because I knew you'd blame yourself. Listen, I'm coming with you to Brighton and we did not meet a week or something back, we met on the 17th of August 15 when you messaged me by accident for the very first time. And yes, I remember that because it was the day the best person came into my life and I wouldn't have it any other way ! So get back to happy Joe and let's go to your Sister's," my tone was stern but I think he knew I wasn't angry. He moved his hand back onto the steering wheel and started the engine. I couldn't help thinking the drive was going to do awkwardly slow after that, but I didn't mind because I was going to have a great weekend.