Tom Holland, The man behind the mask

16. "Because I Love You Too"

Beckie gasped when she saw my tear- stained face and Tom's cut lip. Again, i explained what had happened. Tom stood sullenly beside me, making eye contact with neither of us. It was obvious he couldn't wait to leave. He said goodbye without a kiss. Just squeezed my arm, then left.
I stumbled upstairs while Beckie flapped and fussed and ran me a hot bath. She tried to get me to talk about what had happened at the bar.
She tried to get me to talk about what had happened at the bar. But beyond reassuring her that I wasn't hurt and that the whole thing had only lasted a couple of minuets, i refused to talk.
She left me to get some sleep.
But sleep wouldn't come.
The next day was Thursday.
I couldn't face going to set.
I couldn't face Tom.

(Y/F/N) phoned that evening, but i didn't want to speak to her either. I still felt angry with her for crying all over Tom in the taxi. Perhaps if she hadn't done that, I wouldn't have got so angry with myself and ...
No. In my heart i knew it wasn't (Y/F/N)'s fault.
I still didn't want to speak to her though, she was his Liz Allen. And i was nothing.

I didn't go to set in Friday either. Normally i would see Tom on a Friday evening, but he hadn't called and, anyway, there was no way i could go out with him now. I couldn't bear loving him so much and knowing he didn't feel the same.
I lounged about the house all weekend, hoping that he'd call. Beckie started getting seriously worried about me, nagging me to eat and asking why I wasn't going out with (Y/F/N). Even suggested that I spoke to a counsellor about the attack at the bar.
I told her i was fine and pretended I was going off to meet (Y/F/N).
As i reached the park, (Y/F/N) herself rang again. I took the call this time,in case she decided to phone my home number if i didn't.
We chatted for a bit, then (Y/F/N) asked how Tom was. I told her I thought things between us were cooling off.
"No way," (Y/F/N) said. "I mean i still think he's too intense, but he obviously cares about you. Why else would he have come to our defence like that?"
Because he does boxing training. Because he was angry.
I said nothing. Just ended the call and walked, shivering, round the park. It was a bitterly cold day. The first of March. There would only be a couple more weeks of filming. And then the premier. Not long to go. Not long till I'd never see Tom again.
Beckie was there when i got back from the park. We sat in silence for a while.
Beckie drained her cup of tea and set it down on the table.
"So," she said slowly. "What's up?"
I shrugged.
Beckie sat there, waiting.
But this time, I didn't want to speak to her. So i sat there too, not saying anything.
Beckie cleared her throat. "Okay. You don't want to talk. That's fine. I just wanted you to know I'm here. If you need me."
She stood up.
"Beckie?" My voice was small and broken. A hot tear leaked out of my eye.
Beckie came over and put her arms round me.
"Beckie, he doesn't love me." My voice broke as i said the words out loud. "He's all closed in and I've tried but he wont let me in and I don't know what i did wrong."
She hugged me tighter as i sobbed. Stroking my hair. Letting me cry it all out. "You've done nothing wrong" he kept saying. "Let it go... let it go...". She held me for what felt like a long time, just stroking my hair.

I went back to set on Monday, feeling stronger. I stayed strong all day - telling (Y/F/N) it was definitely over with Tom.
And then i walked onto the main set and saw him. And i wanted to die. He was retaking the prom scene.
The director ordered (Y/F/N) to stand directly in front of him. I watched him run his hands down the outline of her body - almost touching her but not quite.
I listened to him say his lines, lost in the intensity of his misery. I left before he could talk to me afterwards. The next day i phoned and left a message for the director, saying i was too ill to come to rehearsal for the rest of the week.

I planned another quite weekend. I went out shopping with (Y/F/N) on Friday.
We came back late afternoon - (Y/F/N) rushed off to get ready for a party she was set to go to. I told her I might come by later and pretend i was going to check out a skirt I'd spotted in one of the local shops. Then i hung around the shops until about 6 o'clock. I knew this was the time Tom met up with Zendaya. He was there at 2 minuets to - just a hint of swagger as he strolled up to the shops and leaned against a wall. He put his hands in his pockets, then lifted one foot and rested the sole against the wall behind him.
He didn't look round. He didn't see me.
I watched him hungrily. The street was still fairly busy and i could see his head turning, every now and then, gazing at the people who passed him. It started raining - a few light drops. Tom looked up at the sky, his curls falling from his forehead. He folded his arms, muttering something. He was wearing a thin jacket and jeans. I smiled, imagining him saying "f***ing weather" under his breath. Then Zendaya arrived. She looked straight across the road before i had a chance to duck back. For a second I thought she'd seen me - but she didn't wave or anything and Tom didn't turn round, so i guessed she hadn't.
They walked off together, deep in conversation. I watched them go, a million feelings careering around my head: how much I wanted to speak to Tom himself... how much i envied Zendaya right now... and how much i missed him, like a big dark hole at the very heart of me.
I stopped at the park entrance on the way home. The light rain had stopped and the wind was getting up. I didn't want Beckie to see I'd been crying. But my plan to let the chilly Spring air cool off my tear-stained face didn't work. As i leaned against the park gates, my whole face crumpled. Every cell of my body cried out for him.
I bent over, trying to hold in the agony of it.
"Don't cry." Tom's voice was clear and strong. And right beside me.
I whipped round. He was standing less than a meter away, his eyes glinting in the street light. My hands sprang to my face, furiously wiping away my tears.
Tom moved closer. "Zendaya saw you just now." He said. "She wouldn't let me go with her. Told me to come after you."
I looked up at him, my heart pounding. The wind was tearing past us, fierce and raw on my face.
"Oh yeah?" I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
"You don't normally do what you're told."
He smiled. "Zendaya said i was being an idiot. She said that if you really liked me you wouldn't care about my friends or the bad things i do and if I'm ashamed of it, that's my problem. Not yours."
"Oh," I hesitated. "That's funny. Beckie said the same thing. More or less."
I stared at him. God, he looked so beautiful. Why did he have to look so beautiful? I could feel my face staring to crumple again. I didn't want this. Not him standing this close and laughing like it was no big deal and me wanting him so much I couldn't breathe.
It started raining again. We stood there, letting it fall on our faces.
Then Tom's eyes softened. "I cant stop thinking about you."
My heart seemed to squeeze up into my throat. Everything stopped. The hiss of distant traffic, the patter of the rain, the wind in the trees behind us. It just faded away into the other universe.
The one without Tom.
"Can we go back to the other night?" He said.
"When you asked to come back to my place. D'you remember?"
I nodded. Of course i do.
"D'you remember what i said next?"
I nodded again. "That you'd never taken anyone home. Ever."
Tom moved closer, so that he was standing just centimetres away from me. A drop of rain trickled off his curls and rolled down his face.
"And then your line was: I'm not anyone. I love you. Which was a great line. Only..." He bent his head, so that our noses were almost touching. "I messed my line up," he sighed. "I just said I'm sorry."
The whole world shrank to his eyes.
"So what i should of said was, okay come home with me, because i love you too."