Love on the cards?
Childhood sweethearts!
Thursday 14th August 2008
Glinting in the bright disco lights, a set of keys lying on the bar caught my eye. The Homer Simpson keyring seemed to grin back at me. There's a blast from the past, I smiled to myself, thinking back to when I was a teenager and loved watching The Simpsons.
But as I glanced up at the owner of the keyring, I realised that Homer Simpson wasn't the only thing that gave me a familiar feeling of déj" vu. I'd know those gorgeous, greeny-blue eyes anywhere. They belonged to my first love, Damon Martin.
'Hello, Damon,' I blurted.
'Er…hello?' he said.
He didn't recognise me.
Fair enough, really. I wasn't exactly the same brown-haired, chubby girl he'd gone out with when he was 8 years old. Back then, I was a bit of a tomboy. So I hadn't been able to believe my luck when Damon, the most popular boy at Ernesford Grange Primary School, had liked me. And I'd been chuffed to bits when he'd given me my very first Valentine's Day card when I was 8.
What would I do without you? it read inside. To Nicola, I love you.
I could still remember how that hand-drawn red heart on the front had made my tummy flutter. Needless to say, our childhood romance had soon petered out. While I'd gone off to President Kennedy School and Community College in Coventry, Damon had headed to Lyng Hall School in nearby Stoke Heath. We'd lost touch, then got back together for a two-month fling in 2000, when I was 14.
It may only have been a couple of months, but I remembered it well. The long, lingering kisses, the nights we spent cuddled up on the settee watching The Simpsons…Silly really, but I could still remember the way he'd made my heart pound. Just like it was now, in June 2005, as I stood at the bar in the Ikon nightclub, Coventry. Except one thing had changed.
I wasn't the chubby tomboy I'd been back then. Now, my hair was long and blonde, I was showing off my size-10 figure in a vest and miniskirt, and I was more confident than ever. Which is why I'd plucked up the courage to say hello. But it was pretty clear Damon didn't have a clue who I was.
'It's Nikki,' I sighed, rolling my eyes. 'Remember me?'
'Oh my God!' he laughed. 'You look great!'
'You don't look too bad yourself,' I smiled back.
There were some empty seats next to the bar, so we sat down and got chatting.
'I'm working as a supervisor at HMV now,' Damon told me. 'And I've just split up with my girlfriend.'
My heart skipped a beat. With his dark hair and muscly body, Damon was even more gorgeous than I remembered.
'Oh join the club,' I gabbled nervously. 'I'm single, too!
I'm working behind the bar at Chicago Rock Cafe.'
We didn't stop talking until the lights came up in the club and it was closing time. And as Damon, now 18, walked to the door with me, he stopped, and kissed me gently on the lips. We swapped numbers and met up at my place the very next day. After that, we started seeing each other practically every day. So a couple of weeks later, I plucked up the courage to ask Damon if things were serious between us.
'What's going on with us?' I blushed, feeling 14 again.
'Well, we're — we're a couple, aren't we?' he stammered.
'Yes!' I cried, giving him a hug.
We were so sure of each other that, within months, we started trying for a family. When I missed a period in February, we were ecstatic!
'I'm pregnant,' I blurted to Damon, my eyes filling up.
'That's fantastic!' he beamed.
The following week, we moved into a little two-bedroom flat in Coventry, and Damon proved to be the perfect dad-to-be, by looking after me and making sure I ate the right foods, running my baths when I got home from work at night, and talking to my bump every day. And, on 26 November 2006, he was there by my side when, after 48 hours in labour, I gave birth to our son, Taylor, at Walsgrave Hospital in Coventry.
'He's beautiful,' I said, as Damon held him in his arms.
And even better, he was the spitting image of his dad!
Thirteen years have passed since Damon sent me that Valentine's card, but to me, the fact that we're together proves just one thing. That you never forget your primary-school sweetheart. And I reckon we're destined to be together forever.