by Cat Clarke
‘Sorry. Won’t happen again. Promise.’
I laughed. ‘Now, hurry up and kiss me before she gets back.’
The kiss was rudely interrupted by Sal stumbling into the table as she sat back down. I took one look at her and knew that something was wrong. She was pale and there was a sheen of sweat on her face.
‘Sal? Are you OK?’ I reached out and put my arm around her shoulder.
She shook her head slowly. I thought she might cry. ‘I feel … sick. Grace, would you mind getting me a glass of water?’ Her voice was weak and unsteady. I half stood, unsure whether I should do as she asked, or if it would be best to stay with her. I looked at Nat helplessly.
‘Go. I’ll look after her.’ He scooted his stool round so he was sitting close to her. Reassured, I squeezed Sal’s shoulder, before rushing in the direction of the bar. The timing was bad; seemingly everyone in the place had decided to get a drink while the next band set up their gear. It must have been a good five minutes before I got near enough the front to be able to catch Anna’s attention.
She greeted my request for water with a questioning eyebrow. I explained that Sal wasn’t feeling well.
‘She obviously didn’t appreciate Si’s chat-up line.’
I asked her what she was on about.
‘Simon? He’s a mate of ours. Hmm … I take it you haven’t had the pleasure yet? Hardly surprising, I guess – he’s a bit of a sleaze. Nat would want to keep you as far away from him as possible! I saw him talking to your friend a couple of minutes ago, and she wasn’t looking too happy about it.’
I tried not to let my confusion show. I hated being in the dark like this. ‘Simon? Yeah, I think Nat’s mentioned him. Which one’s he? Can you point him out?’
She craned her neck to scan the crowd. ‘I can’t see him anywhere. He must have gone off to find another victim.’
I thanked Anna for the water and left the bar, trying my best to digest this new piece of information. How had this Si bloke managed to freak Sal out so badly? It didn’t make any sense.
When I got back to the table, Nat was talking quietly to Sal, his hand resting on her back. As soon as I sat down, he got up and walked away. ‘Back in a couple of minutes,’ he said in a hard, tense voice. I nodded distractedly and turned my attention to Sal.
She gulped down some water before thanking me.
‘Thanks, Grace. I feel much better now – not quite sure what came over me. Too much to drink, I guess.’ A weak shadow of a smile.
‘Who’s Simon?’ I asked.
Her eyes went wide and panicky. I continued, not wanting to upset her, but determined to get to the bottom of this. ‘Anna said she saw you talking to some boy called Simon. A friend of Nat’s?’
Sal said nothing.
‘Sal? What’s the matter? Did he hit on you? Is that why you’re upset?’ I tried my best not to sound like I thought that was kind of a ridiculous reason.
She nodded.
‘What did he say that was so bad?’
‘Nothing really.’ She paused and looked around, like she was worried we might be overheard. ‘I came out of the toilets feeling a bit dizzy and sick anyway, and then he was suddenly all over me – he wouldn’t leave me alone, and I felt all claustrophobic … like I was about to have a panic attack or something. I swear I’m never drinking shots again.’
‘Did you know he’s a friend of Nat’s?’ She shook her head. ‘I’m surprised Nat’s friends with someone like that … Are you sure you’re feeling OK now?’
‘I still feel a bit dizzy. I think it might be best if I go home.’
‘We’ll go as soon as Nat gets back.’
‘No, no, there’s no need for you guys to come. I’ll be fine.’
There was no way I was letting her go off by herself with Sleazy Simon on the loose. ‘Don’t be daft. We’re coming.’ I checked my watch. ‘We wouldn’t be able to stay much longer anyway – the last train’s at midnight.’
Nat returned just as we were gathering our bags together. ‘We’re leaving – now.’ He looked angry.
‘I was just going to say the same thing! But what’s up with you? What’s happened?’ I touched his arm.
‘Nothing. Let’s just go, OK?’
I wasn’t going to argue. He was scaring me.
The three of us left the club with Nat in the middle, his arms guiding me and Sal in the right direction. No one said a word on the walk to the station.
On the train, Sal promptly closed her eyes and fell asleep. She must have been drunk after all – she never fell asleep on public transport.
I whispered to Nat, ‘Now can you tell me what happened?’
He was calmer now, but he looked really, really tired. He sighed deeply. ‘Sal told me that Simon had been harassing her, so I went to have a word with him, that’s all.’
‘And this is a friend of yours?’
‘Was. He was a friend of mine. Until I realized what kind of person he is.’
‘What kind of person is he? Lots of guys come on to girls like that, don’t they?’
‘Not like Si does.’ He glanced over at Sal and added quietly, ‘He’s not the sort of person you want Sal to be talking to.’
‘There’s more, isn’t there? Why did we have to leave in such a hurry?’
He nodded. ‘I … I hit him.’
‘What?! Why the hell would you do something like that?’ Nat had never struck me as the violent type. I could not have been more shocked.
He sort of mumbled, ‘I don’t know what came over me. I was just so … angry. And Sal was so upset …’
‘God, Nat. I can’t believe you did that!’ I wasn’t sure how I felt. Part of me was disgusted and shocked, definitely. But I have to admit that a little part of me was also sort of thrilled: he’d been a knight in shining armour, protecting Sal’s honour. ‘Did he try and hit you back?’
‘No … he was sort of … sprawled on the floor. Which was why I thought we’d better make a quick exit.’ He looked embarrassed.
I shook my head in wonder. ‘I would never have imagined you doing something like that – ever.’
Nat stared out the window into the blackness.
‘Me neither,’ he said softly.
We put Sal in a taxi at the station, and then Nat flagged one down for me. I kissed him goodbye and thanked him.
‘Thanks? What are you thanking me for?’
I shrugged and kissed him again. ‘I dunno. For being more than I deserve? For being all brave and strong and coming to Sal’s rescue?’
He shook his head and stared at the ground, muttering something that sounded like, ‘Stop taking the piss.’
‘I’m not! Come here, you.’ I hugged him and held on tight. I whispered to him as the taxi driver shouted about not hanging around all night. I remember the words all the more clearly because they make me feel so stupid now. They seem extra loud when I hear them in my head:
‘I love you for always doing what’s right.’
The next day was hard. As it turned out, the combination of being back at school and having a killer hangover was not a good one. I barely managed to make it through English without throwing up. The three-page reading list we were supposed to get through by the end of the year certainly didn’t help. At least taking the train to see Nat would give me some much-needed reading time.
At lunchtime, Sal and I secured our usual table at the cafe round the corner from school. I ordered a bacon sandwich, and Sal ordered a salad – which made me snort with derision.
‘A salad? Are you feeling OK?’
She shrugged. ‘I just fancied something different, that’s all.’
‘If you say so … weirdo.’
Sal chucked a bit of lettuce at me. It hit my cheek and landed in my lap.
‘Urgh. Keep that filthy green stuff away from me!’ I threw it back in Sal’s direction. I missed though – I always did throw like a girl. ‘I need fat, fat and more fat today. This hangover is a bastard. Anyway, how come you’re loo
king all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed? You drank just as much as I did … Oh my God, you’ll never guess what Nat told me on the way home last night! He HIT that Simon fella! Properly punched him. Can you even believe it?’
Sal paused with a forkful of salad halfway between her plate and her mouth.
‘What?’
‘I know! It’s weird, isn’t it?’
‘Why did he do that?’ She returned the fork to the plate without taking a bite.
‘I dunno! I suppose he was defending your honour or something. It’s kind of sweet in a way, don’t you think?’
Sal was shaking her head. ‘I can’t believe he did that.’
‘Yeah, I thought it was maybe a bit extreme, but apparently that Si is a proper sleazebag. Bet he’s had it coming for ages.’
‘God. I never would have thought …’
‘I know! He just doesn’t seem like a “punching” type of guy, does he? It makes me think of him in a whole new light.’
Sal returned her attention to her salad as I continued to ramble on about how perfect Nat was, and how I’d been so sure that he was a nice boy who’d never harm a flea, and now, well, he was a bit more dangerous. And definitely a bit sexier too.
The common room was too frantic, considering the fragile state of my head, so I ventured into the library after lunch. It was cool and calm and quiet and everything you’d want a library to be. Completely deserted too – just the librarian and me. She was reading Glamour, somewhat furtively. Not exactly the reading matter I would have expected from a librarian. I wondered if she was worried that the Library Inspector might come to call and make her hand back her Licence to Library. I settled at a table round the corner, leaving her in peace to discover this season’s must-have trenchcoat or whatever.
I was halfway through the first chapter of Emma and beginning to remember just how much I despised Jane Austen when I suddenly felt that I was being watched. You know how you just know? Maybe the librarian had clocked me as Not a Regular Library Visitor and had decided to check I wasn’t defacing the books or sticking chewing gum under the table. I turned around in my chair, but all I could see was books, books, books. I got up and peeked around the corner of a shelf. The librarian was still engrossed in her magazine, absently scratching her head. Huh. I sat back down and tried to get on with my reading. But that nagging feeling wouldn’t go away.
A mammoth sneeze broke the silence and confirmed that I wasn’t going crazy after all. I jumped up from my seat and headed in the phantom sneezer’s direction, ready to tell off whichever snivelling little first year had been spying on me. And bumped smack bang into someone a lot taller than I’d been expecting. Devon.
He dropped his handkerchief and the book he’d been holding. A handkerchief? In this day and age? Maybe he’d been reading a little too much Jane Austen lately. He scrabbled on the floor to gather his stuff together before standing to face my somewhat puzzled expression.
‘Grace … hi. How’s it going?’ He sneezed again, a little more stifled this time.
‘Hi … and bless you! What are you doing hiding back here?’
His face flushed to match his ruby red nose. ‘I wasn’t. Hiding, I mean. I was looking for a book. Um … this one, in fact.’ He held up a battered old copy of To Kill a Mockingbird, as if that proved he hadn’t been acting shiftily.
I nodded. ‘That’s one of my favourites. I used to wish I was Scout. Even tried calling my dad “Atticus” for a while, before …’ I abruptly shut my mouth. I was pretty sure I hadn’t told anyone this before. Not that it was particularly interesting or shocking. But still, it was personal.
‘Really? I didn’t think it would be your kind of thing. I mean, not that there’s any reason it shouldn’t be. It’s a great book, after all. It’s just that I thought you were more …’
‘More what? Mills and Boon? Jackie Collins?’ I teased him.
‘No, no, nothing like that. Er … I’m going to stop talking now.’
‘You don’t have to! Do you want to come and sit with me?’ I’d gone and surprised myself again.
He seemed slightly taken aback at the invitation and I sensed he was about to say no, so I grabbed his arm and pulled him towards my table. ‘Pleeeease? I’m bored. And surely it beats lurking around back there all by yourself?’
Devon muttered something as he reluctantly slumped into the chair opposite mine. It sounded like ‘I wasn’t lurking’.
And so there we were: me and my boyfriend’s little brother. Hanging out. Sitting in the library, chatting. Well, semi-whispering actually. The initial awkward weirdness disappeared sooner than I would have expected. Slowly but surely Devon came out of his shell of shyness. He had a lot to say, which shouldn’t have surprised me, but did. He agreed with me about Jane Austen, and hated both Brontës too. Our conversation was pretty much confined to books at first, but little by little we moved onto other subjects.
It turned out we felt the same about a lot of things. We talked about music and compared the worst songs on our iPods. He told me about a song he thought I’d like and we listened to it, our heads huddled together, one headphone each. Being so close, I couldn’t help but notice that he smelled really, really good. The song was beautiful.
My hangover was forgotten. And if I wasn’t mistaken, a slight flirtatiousness had crept into my voice, without me even noticing. He had a cute smile – a little bit crooked. I liked it.
The bell went, and I decided to skip history. Devon looked at his watch briefly but carried on talking. I wondered if he was missing a lesson too. He’d probably never missed one in his life.
We talked all afternoon and it felt like the most normal thing in the world. It had gone four o’clock by the time the librarian kicked us out. I packed my neglected copy of Emma into my bag. ‘Well, I suppose I’d better get going. I said I’d meet Sal in town after school.’ This was the first mention of either Sal or Nat. And the mere mention of her name seemed to break whatever spell we were under.
‘Right, yeah, I’d better get home … things to do, you know … It was fun though – talking to you, I mean. You’re different …’ Every ounce of awkwardness was back – and then some.
I nodded, not altogether sure what to say to that. ‘Yeah, well, thanks for this afternoon. You saved me from Death by Boredom.’
‘Any time.’ Devon smiled, but it was a slight, tight sort of smile. He looked me in the eyes for the longest time. I couldn’t look away; I didn’t want to look away. He was the first to break eye contact. He looked down and fiddled with the straps on his bag. If I hadn’t seen his lips move, I’d have hardly believed what I heard next.
‘What do you see in him?’
I don’t know what to think about Ethan.
He’s fading.
I’m starting to give up hope.
Hope. I’m not even sure what I’m hoping for any more.
What do you see in him? The words were tinged with bitterness.
‘What did you say?’ I’d heard all too clearly, but I really didn’t know how else to respond.
Devon looked at me, his expression unreadable. ‘You heard me.’
‘Yeah, I heard you. But what kind of question is that?’
‘I’m curious.’
‘Curious?’
He nodded, a little less sure of himself now. ‘Yeah … I just wanted to know … Never mind. Forget I said anything.’ He turned his attention to the noticeboard we were standing next to and started picking at one of the drawing pins with his fingernail. Back to Devon, Master of Awkwardness. But I hadn’t imagined the bitterness in his voice, had I?
‘Devon, I don’t know what to tell you …’
‘You don’t have to tell me anything. Just forget it. Please.’ He still wouldn’t look at me.
‘I don’t mind, honestly.’ I paused, not knowing what he wanted from me. ‘Nat’s not like anyone else I’ve been with.’ Cringe. I sound like a right slag. ‘He makes me feel good about myself. And I trust him.’
; Devon looked up. ‘Do you?’ He asked the question ever so quietly.
I nodded.
‘You … love him?’ His eyes burned into mine. There was something beyond weird happening between us, and whatever it was made me hesitate before answering his question.
‘Yes.’
He closed his eyes for just a second, but it was long enough for me to notice his long eyelashes, just like Nat’s. ‘He doesn’t deserve you.’ The words were barely more than a whisper.
And then he turned and bolted away down the corridor before I was able to process what he’d said.
What the fuck? What the hell is he on about? Why would he say that to me? I thought it was Sal he had a crush on, not me. I couldn’t wait to see what she made of it all. I briefly wondered if Devon was just jealous that Nat had a girlfriend and he didn’t. And then I felt mean for thinking that.
I hopped on a bus into town and texted Sal to say I was on my way. My phone buzzed straight away, and I was sure it was going to be Sal, making some sarky comment about me being the late one this time. But it was from a number I didn’t recognize:
‘Sorry about that. Pls don’t tell anyone – I was out of order. Sorry. D’
I had no idea how he’d got my number. Maybe he’d nabbed it off Nat’s phone? I wondered whether I should text him back, but since I couldn’t think of anything to say I decided against it.
I mulled things over for the rest of the bus journey. The idea that Nat didn’t deserve me was absurd. I was the one who didn’t deserve him. Any idiot could see that. Well, any idiot who knew the truth, anyway. Clearly Devon had no idea what I was like. I was sort of pleased.
I’d really enjoyed hanging out with him that afternoon – even more than I was willing to admit to myself. But why did he have to go all weird and spoil things? It was annoying.
I was so immersed in my mulling that I very nearly missed my stop. I jumped out of my seat and semi-sprinted down the aisle, accidentally clouting some guy round the back of the head with my bag. He swore at me just as I was about to say sorry, so I kept my apology to myself. Served him right anyway – he had an unusually large head.
