I’m Actually Allergic to Cheese

“I refuse to go to uni without having had my first kiss.” 

Nell peered into the mirror, pulling that weird face that is compulsory when applying mascara. The topic of her first kiss had already been exhausted two years ago, when everyone else had theirs, but ever the late bloomer, she left for Cardiff University in just over a week and had zero kisses under her belt, let alone a notch on her bedpost.

“Why don’t we just go to Coco’s in Maidenhead? There’ll be loads of boys there and if we go with Alisha she can drive us home.” Jess, ever the problem solver, suggested, her voice tinny through the phone. Alisha had sworn off alcohol since an incident involving cherry Sourz had nearly put her in the hospital, so she was the go-to designated driver at Atwood College.

“No, I don’t want it to be in a club with some random guy! I want it to mean something. Plus I can’t go clubbing, I don’t have any ID- my mum won’t let my passport leave the house.” Nell moaned, reinserting the mascara into the tube in an attempt to utilise the last few drops. 

“I’ve been telling you to get your provisional all year…” came the expected Jess response. Jess was typical Type A but was also at an advantage. Having been born in September she was the first girl in their year to pass her driving test and be allowed to drink. It would have been cooler had Nell & Jess had more friends, but they were decidedly uncool, having stuck to each other like barnacles since they met in Year 1. Nell had pushed Jess off her scooter in the playground in full view of their teacher, who made the two kiss and make up after all their tears had been shed. The two bonded over their respective Littlest Pet Shop collections and spent the next school year conducting illicit trades beneath the tables, causing such a craze that the figures were banned from school grounds. Nevertheless, their friendship stuck. 

“I’ve just never got round to it! Plus if I apply now it’ll arrive while I’m in Cardiff.”

Nell tossed the mascara onto her desk with a sigh. Jess was off to Exeter to do biochemistry, which was two hours away from Nell and her history degree. It wasn’t an insurmountable distance but the girls didn’t like to think too much about what life would soon be like, when they would no longer be joined at the hip, alone in different cities. You couldn’t make friends at university by pushing people off their bikes.

“What I don’t get is you want such a special first kiss but you’ll be leaving soon, so what does it matter?” Jess challenged.

“The memory matters! I need to have a good story so my kids will think I was cool.” said Nell.

“We are cool.” Jess couldn’t even convince herself with this statement.

She and Nell had never been cool. Neither of them had been invited to any after-prom parties and so they had had a sleepover at Nell’s, ordering pizza and falling asleep in their dresses, tucked up in Nell’s single bed.

“Yeah. Anyway we can’t all be as lucky in love as you.” Nell said, the tiniest hint of jealousy seeping into her voice. As much as she loved Jess, it had stung when she told her that she had kissed someone, a real boy. For some reason, Nell had always assumed she’d be the first, and so to suddenly be left a step behind hurt.

“I kissed my cousin’s friend at a barbecue three months ago.” Jess brought her back down to Earth with the underwhelming reality of her first romantic encounter. It really hadn’t been that special. It was an overcast day in June, the sausages had burned and the younger children had run amok, pelting everybody else with water balloons. The kiss in question was over in a flash, with both parties glad to have jumped the first-kiss hurdle, but in no rush to take things further, or even speak to one another again.

“Yeah but it sounds so fun and mysterious!” Nell whined, slipping an alice band into her blonde hair. She had used her mother’s best conditioner the previous night and slept with her hair in plaits in the hopes that’d she’d wake up with perfect smooth waves, and she had done, until they fell out within an hour and she was back to having pin straight hair.

“Nell, he tasted like ketchup.” said Jess, trying desperately to prove that this first kiss nonsense really wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

“Ew. I hope Bobby doesn’t taste like ketchup.” 

Bobby James was the boy in Burnham every girl fancied. His dad owned the big farm with the beautiful house on the hill, dotted with cows munching on daisies. It seemed an ideal place to raise children and Bobby had certainly turned out alright. All that milk and fresh air had given him a 6”5 stature, broad shoulders and a gentle disposition. He was something of a mystery, having left after exams but before his growth spurt- by the time the girls noticed him it was too late, he spent all his time tending to the cows and none of it with members of the opposite sex. 

However, it was the day of the market. On the first Sunday of every month, the farmers, bakers, artisans and counterfeit goods salesmen congregated on Burnham high street and sold their wares to stay-at-home mothers, the elderly and teenage girls with nothing else to do.

Nell’s mission was simple, approach Bobby at his stall, cast a spell on him with her freshly elongated lashes, and he’d be so bedazzled he’d have no choice but to kiss her right then and there. Nell had gone over the plan a thousand times in her head, in the shower, at dinner, before she went to sleep. It was foolproof. 

“He runs the cheese stall, I bet he tastes like mature cheddar.” Jess didn’t see the Bobby appeal- the only thing she’d ever noticed about him was the dirt under his fingernails and the strange milky smell that she swore only she could detect radiating from his pores.

“Whatever, at least I’ll have had my first kiss.”

Leaning toward the mirror, wiping away the speck of mascara splattered under eye, Nell assessed her image. Tasteful white jumper, black skirt, tights. A classic. Nothing was going to stop her.

“Are you nearly ready? My nan’s coming over later.” said Jess.

With a slick of Primark lipgloss and a deep breath, Nell was ready. After today, her life would be split into two epochs, BFC (before first kiss) and AFC. She was sure of it- nothing was more important. 

The market was as bustling as it could be in a small a town as Burnham. The cobbled road was lined with stalls and the air was cut through with the booming voice of the fruit and vegetable man- a punnet of cherries was a steal at £3.50.

Toward the end of the street, outside the opticians was the James Family Farm stall, laden with cheeses of varying odours, manned by Bobby himself. The old dears were charmed by his soft spoken voice, and that evening more than a few families would wonder why their daughter had come home clutching a wheel of local cheese. 

The pair made it halfway up the street before Nell lost her nerve. 

“Jess I can’t do it, I’m going home.”

“I cannot hear any more about Bobby, you at least have to talk to him.”

“What would I even say, he’s always on the farm, he can’t have a normal conversation!’

“I don’t know, you like him! I thought you’d thought this through.”

“Yeah but now I’m here and I’m scared.”

Nell dug her heels into the cobbles and grabbed Jess’ arm, wanting nothing more than to turn around and go home. The first kiss fantasy she had spent weeks building up in her head was rapidly crumbling. 

“Oh come on.” Jess tugged on Nell’s arm and marched forward, dragging her friend with her the last few feet until they were right in front of the lauded cheese stall. 

Upon seeing Bobby in the flesh, Nell quickly released Jess’ arm and bounced forward, morphing her face into an expression of engrossment crossed with cool-girl mystery. She wanted him to think she was into the cheese, and not him. Not at first at least. She had to play it cool. Everything rested on their interaction. Her whole body felt prickly and her knees literally wobbled. 

“Hi!” she said, her voice cracking. 

“…Hi.” said Bobby, his face annoyingly unreadable. 

Nell had definitely not thought this through. Where was the dreamy gaze he was meant to give her? Where was that instant connection? The spark she’d been promised by every film she’d ever watched? Why wasn’t he falling for her right this minute? 

Nell could feel her grip on the situation slipping. The only person she really talked to was Jess- occasionally her mum. She couldn’t do this. She wasn’t a real person who could have real conversations. She could never get Bobby to kiss her and she’d never survive uni. What the hell was she doing here? 

“I’m actually allergic to cheese.” she blurted out.

“Oh.” said Bobby, taken aback and rightly confused. “Okay.”

“Yeah, it’s really bad.” 

She kept going, why did she keep going?

“… I’m sorry to hear that.” 

Bobby did his best with what Nell gave him. Vaguely recognising her but never recalling a conversation between them, he thought this interaction especially odd, and who could blame him? Social interaction was not Nell’s forte, but this was on another level.

LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE. Alarms were ringing in her head, threatening to split her skull in two. 

“Thanks. Bye.” 

Her eyes on the floor, she spun round abruptly, hurrying back towards Jess, who had borne witness to the entire exchange, and wished she hadn’t. Nell took Jess by the hand and ducked into a nearby alley, where luckily there were no more boys to have awkward conversations with.

“I can’t believe I did that.” 

Nell felt like weeping. She put her head in her hands and sighed harder than she ever had. Jess was in disbelief. She looked up and prayed that Bobby (and better yet, Nell as well) would suffer an acute yet harmless bout of amnesia, just severe enough to wipe the last two minutes from their memories forever. 

“That was like watching a car crash in slow motion.” said Jess.

“I’m going to die a virgin.” came the despondent response from Nell, her voice muffled from her hands still in the way. 

There was no way for Jess to sugarcoat it: “Let’s hope the boys in Cardiff are more forgiving.” she said. She was trying her best but Nell was always the more emotional of the two, and despite their friendship, Jess never quite knew how to handle it.

“I’ve given up on those boys already.” Nell sighed.

Jess pulled her in for a long hug and rubbed her back, telling her over and over that it would all be okay, that she’d be fine. They were words they both needed to hear. 

                                  *

A little while later, the situation didn’t seem as painful. A smile had crept back onto Nell’s face, in part due to the German hotdogs she’d bought them both. They sat beneath a tree, the same tree they used to have after-school picnics under, pooling their pocket money and gorging themselves on strawberry laces and chocolate buttons while discussing the goings-on of their secondary school. Jess’ mum used to have a fit when she came home and her uniform was covered in grass stains and chocolate smears. The stains were worth it for the time spent with Nell. 

“A cheese allergy?” Jess giggled.

“I know! I love cheese!” Nell exclaimed, finishing the last of her hot dog.

“Good thing you didn’t kiss him now, you’d taste like sauerkraut.” Jess teased.

Nell laughed, but said nothing for a while.

“I’m going to miss you.” said Nell quietly. She meant it. In her quest for a first kiss she had taken Jess’ love and friendship for granted, and only now, under their tree, did she realise it might be finite. They’d be moving hours apart in a matter of days and thrust into new lives, new homes, new friendships. Would they survive? When they did meet up would they still have enough to talk about? Nell couldn’t bear the thought of growing apart from Jess. She was Jess, and Jess was Nell. That’s how it had always been, since she pushed her off the bike all those years ago. 

“Me too.” said Jess, taking Nell’s hand in her own, soothing her fears. They’d be alright. Nothing could really separate them, not time, space, or a first kiss. They could eat chocolate buttons together over the phone. Jess could drive over, if Nell chipped in for petrol. They would always make room for each other. 

Bobby James was forgotten, a thing of the past. They were here now, each with her best friend, and that was all that mattered.