My Side of the Story

by Will Davis

  I start to struggle free of Buddy and turn my head and that's when I see Jon. At first I think it's just another vision, but if you've ever had one you'll know there's no mistaking actual reality when it's standing in front of you. He's stood there in the doorway with his mouth all stupidly open like he's catching flies. He looks right into my eyes and I look into his and then his whole face crumples up in disgust and he just turns around and stalks away. I want to call out after him but when I open my mouth all that comes out is this cry of sheer agony which has been building up for some time. Then Buddy lets out this Ahhh, which is exactly the same as the sound the doctor asks you to make when he checks out your tonsils.

  There's more pain as he takes his cock out, and then he kind of flops over me in exhaustion and lies there on top of me. It's a bit like wearing a super-heavy fur coat.

  He's like, Was it good for you?

  I'm like, Get the hell off of me!

  But he doesn't move, he just snorts and tries to wrap his arms around me. He's kind of surprised when I sort of do this backflip thing and send him flying off the bed. He lets out this yell 'cos he hits a table and knocks off this big glass bowl which lands on the floor and shatters into like, a zillion pieces. Right away I'm up and running back and forward like a speed freak, trying to find all my clothes and put them on at the same time.

  Buddy's like, That was a fucking three-hundred-pound vase!

  I'm like, LIC GAS.

  Then I'm bounding out of the room and across the hall. I stop and take a deep breath. Then I knock on Jon's door. There's no answer so I just open it and go in. He's sat there on the bed rubbing some kind of ointment on his face. He keeps rubbing it so I kind of stand there like an idiot and then finally he stops and goes, So how is Buddy? in this totally bitchy way.

  I'm like, Listen that was just a thing, OK?

  Jon stops what he's doing and gives me this look like I'm a wilted turd or something. Then he heaves the mother of all sighs. He's like, Why don't you just go, OK? You don't have to explain anything to me, it's your life. Anyway I'm tired.

  He goes back to rubbing his ointment. I stand there moronically like, trying to think of something to say back to that, but at this point Buddy appears at the door behind me.

  He's like, a total state. He's wearing this black silk kimono with a dragon pattern on it, and his fuzz is like, spurting out through all the gaps. He's like, What the hell's going on? I can't believe you broke my Dynasty! Do you know how much that fucking thing cost?

  I'm like, Send me a bill.

  Buddy's like, Fuck you!

  And Jon's like, Can you both just leave?

  There's this windy pause and then Buddy throws up his hands in the air like a full-on diva and then whirls round and stomps back to his room. There's the sound of his door slamming. I feel weak in my knees and I find myself crouching on the ground. The world seems to be swimming and going dark for a few seconds. Then the dizziness passes and I find that Jon's crouched beside me.

  He's like, What's wrong with you?

  Listen, I hear myself go, We have to go and find Al. I left her alone at this club and she doesn't even know how to get back. And she's never taken drugs before.

  Jon's like, You did what?

  He totally can't believe I've just left my friend in the middle of some city I don't even know, especially what with her background of alcohol abuse. He's like, Give her a call!

  This didn't even occur to me, so I take his mobile and try her number. There's this pause and then the sound of a phone ringing downstairs. I'm like, Oh shit.

  Jon starts furiously pulling on his clothes and this is when I start to come clean about a few things. Like the fact that Al's parents aren't really alcoholics, and the fact that basically I've done nothing but lie to him since we've been here. I feel a bit sick while I'm telling him because he doesn't react or anything, just keeps on dressing and then turns and goes downstairs. I follow him down, still trying to explain, and then out of the house and around the corner to where his car is parked. The more I talk the more lame and desperate I sound. Jon unlocks the doors.

  Get in, he says in this dead-sounding voice.

  I'm like, Just listen a sec—

  Get in, he cuts me off.

  I get in and we drive off in silence. Then Jon turns to me and asks which club we're going to and I tell him. I feel like a total cunt, and my arse hurts like I've got a razor-blade stuck in it. We come to some traffic lights and while we're sitting there the silence becomes like, overwhelming, plus I can't stop squirming in the seat. Jon stares straight ahead and goes, You're some piece of work, you know that? I mean, what kind of a friend are you?

  I don't say anything. It's true.

  You know what? I was on a date tonight, and it was going really well. But I decided to come back because I thought… He trails off, like suddenly he's thought better of what he was going to say.

  I'm like, Thought what?

  He's like, Never mind.

  At this point the lights change and we take off again. To cover the silence he switches on the radio, and we spend the rest of the journey listening to this soppy-voiced DJ telling callers how to unfuck their lives. It feels like an era before we reach the club. Jon pulls up outside and says he'll wait for me. I get out and go up to the door. They won't let me back in though. The bouncers, who are these guys who look like they've been brought up on a healthy diet of steroids for their whole lives, look me up and down like I'm a piece of shit with arms and legs. They actually think it's funny that I want to go in.

  I'm like, My friend is in there! She's all alone.

  They don't look too convinced by this. I try to explain, but they're not having any of it.

  Go back to school, mate, says one of them and then laughs like he's so witty he's gonna pop a blood vessel. I want to hit him, but I don't, since this guy could probably take out Superman with his little finger. I return to the car and tell Jon the status. He looks just thrilled but he turns off the engine and gets out and goes up to the doors. The bouncers move to either side to let him pass right away, like he's Moses or something, and he disappears inside.

  After about ten minutes I start to wonder what's going on and if maybe he's stopped for a quick one and a boogie inside. Just as I'm about to like, make a second attempt and, like, rush the bouncers or something, he reappears. He gets in the car and goes, She's not there any more.

  I have this sick feeling all over now, like I'm seriously gonna throw up. I'm like, totally ready to convert, or anything so long as it'll bring Al back.

  He's like, One of the barmen remembers a girl being really out of her head and asking him for directions to the pier, so we'll go take a look there. If we can't find her, we'll have to go to the police.

  We take off once more. I'm leaking a bit now. In fact the tears are coming out of my eyes like I've burst a pipe. Jon looks over to me and heaves another classic sigh. But he reaches across and pats me on the knee (in a totally nonsexual way).

  He's like, Look, she'll be OK. We'll find her.

  We reach the pier and get out. There are a few couples wandering around and swigging from bottles even though it's freezing and the dead of night. Jon suggests we go in different directions up the road to look for her. I nod and start walking. The wind is back with a vengeance and after a few metres it feels like any second I'm gonna be lifted off my feet and sent hurtling into the sky. I pass this couple and some insane woman wearing this red top beckons to me and shouts out, Hey junior, how about a threesome? I don't even reply. I look back and the car seems like it's miles away, and there's no sign of Jon. I carry on for a bit but my heart's sinking like it's got a lead weight attached to it, and I picture how I'm going to have to explain to Al's parents that their only child's vanished for good. It's like there's no hope whatsoever. I'm tempted to just lie down with my head in the road and wait for some happy lorry to come and put me out of my misery.

  But then, like some miracle (at least that's how it seems for a fe
w seconds - I do still have some perspective), I look down at the beach and there she is. She's stood there right beneath me all huddled up and staring out into the sea like she's debating over how to drown herself.

  I'm so thrilled to see her I don't even think about what I'm doing, I just put my leg over the wall and let myself drop. Then, about halfway through falling, I realise just how high up I was. I kind of crash back into Al's life shouting Oh shit! at the top of my voice.

  She turns round and looks at me with her mouth hanging open. It seriously looks like I've just fallen out of the sky.

  She's like, What the fuck are you doing here?

  I kind of sit up and try and pull all my limbs back together. I can't quite believe I haven't broken anything. But I don't really care because I'm so happy to see Al again. I'm like, Looking for you of course!

  Al closes her mouth and turns back to the sea. I stagger to my feet. Both of my ankles feel like they're sprained but I grit my teeth and like, hobble over to her.

  I'm like, Al, I'm sorry. I really am.

  Al's like, It's not fair, Jaz, in this faraway voice.

  I'm like, What's not fair?

  She's like, Why does everyone like you and not me?

  I'm like, Huh? Are you having an Asian moment?

  I don't mean it in a bad way, but apparently this is the total wrong thing to say because she whirls back at me with this face that's like, anger intensified.

  Everyone just loves you, don't they?! she shouts, Everyone just falls over themselves to be your friend or to sleep with you or to whatever! No one does with me and it's not fair! Sometimes I hate you so much! You're so lucky and you have no idea! You don't give a shit about anyone but yourself and it's just perfectly OK for you!

  I like, process this.

  That's not true, I say, I do care.

  Al's like, Sure. Right. I saw you leaving the club with him, you know.

  Next thing I know I've stumbled forward and I'm trying to hug her. It's pretty confused, 'cos Al's this total hybrid of anger and neediness, and she practically has a fit trying to simultaneously hug me back and attack me. After a while though she calms down and we both just stand there.

  Then I'm like, Listen Al, I gotta tell you something.

  She looks at me. I can't hardly breathe though, I'm suddenly so out of breath it's not true. I start coughing in this way that seems like I'm being choked or something. Al pats me on the back in this totally useless, ineffectual way. In the end we both sit down there on the wet pebbles in the middle of the freezing cold to wait for my lungs to recover.

  In between gasps I'm like, Fabian killed himself.

  Al's like, What?

  I'm like, It's true. I went round to see his mum and she told me about it. He did it last week, in the bath.

  I tell her all about going to see Mrs Wrens, and then about what happened with him at Mary's party. And while I'm telling her this I feel this big sense of relief, like secretly inside I was feeling kind of responsible for it all this time. I know that's stupid, because I already said I wasn't or anything. But still I guess maybe the feeling was there, tucked away somewhere. You don't really know what goes on in your own mind, not with all those different levels and stuff and it's so good to be talking about it - to be telling Al, I mean. I kind of kick myself for not talking to her before because she really listens and then she gives me this hug and says, That's awful, especially because you used to hang out together, and all that, and actually I feel kind of happy for a few seconds. That's the great thing about Al. She always knows the right thing to say when you tell her something like this. That's the reason I hang out with her, and none of those other losers that populate St Matthew's.

  We sit there for a while hugging each other and listening to our teeth chattering away. Even though it's like, brutally cold and my arsehole still feels like it's been used as an ashtray or something, it's nice too. But in a weird way nice, 'cos I feel sad too. It's partly because of Fabian, but it's also because I suddenly know we're going back home. It's like, so totally obvious that's what's gonna happen.

  Then I find myself giggling and Al starts giggling too, and I tell her about the Buddy experience, and then we have this total giggle-fest, and she shakes her head in this exaggerated politician kind of way and tells me it's my own fault for dumping her. I agree and then burst into giggles again. I can't stop, I'm like a trembleometer or something. Al says that she simply despairs of me. I'm like, Tell me about it, sister.

  Then I suddenly remember about Jon and jump up.

  I'm like, Shit!

  Al's like, What is it?

  I'm like, Jon! We came out to look for you! We have to find him.

  We climb back up the wall and look up and down the road. There's no sign of Jon or the couple who wanted a threesome. We start walking towards where the car's parked. Thankfully that's still there, but of course the doors are locked so we can't get in. We're seriously starting to freeze here.

  Al's like, Where the hell is he?

  At this point you might have thought the evening couldn't have taken any more drama, but if you did you'd be wrong, because this is when the police car draws up beside us. If you can believe it, it's old Cross Eyes and The Bitch, who this time is in the driver's seat and is staring us down with a face that would melt plastic. She rolls down the window and goes, So what story are you going to give us tonight?

  I'm like, We're just waiting to go home.

  Cross Eyes is like, way behind his colleague and still focusing on who we are. When he realises we're the same kids from the night before his whole face lights up. He's like, Hey, it's Richard and Judy!

  The Bitch's brow plunges towards her nose. She puts on the handbrake and gets out of the car. I fight an urge to run. She's comes over to me and stares right into my face like a search-beam. She's like, How old are you both? Have you two been drinking?

  I'm like, No.

  Al's like, No!

  Cross Eyes gets out too and comes to look at us. We're both pretty sorry states. My trousers are torn and there's some blood from a cut where I fell which is splattered all across my shirt. Al's face has got dirt all over it from climbing the wall and we're both shaking away like turbo spin-dryers.

  The Bitch looks at Cross Eyes and they share some kind of special police thought. She looks back at me.

  I think you guys should come with us, she goes, in this voice that's like, the definition of an order.

  I'm like, No really, we're just waiting for our friend to get back so we can go home. Really, that's the situation here!

  The Bitch gives me this withering smirk. Cross Eyes sighs deeply and puts his hand on Al's shoulder and starts to guide her to the car. The Bitch does the same to me. Her grip is like a total vice, and my shoulder immediately like, deadens because of it. Then all of a sudden I feel this rushing sensation in my stomach and throat, and before she can react I'm vomiting all over her boots. She's not too happy about it.

  Whoops! goes Cross Eyes, who's one of those types who always tries to make the best of a bad situation.

  I like, kneel down and cough out some more sick. The Bitch doesn't try to touch me again, but busies herself with huffing and shaking the sick off her feet. I stare at the ground and try to will my insides to settle down. Meanwhile I can hear all this shouting and I realise Jon's arrived and is having a row with the police. Then I look up and The Bitch is looking down at me with this totally smug face, like she's just been proved right about something.

  Let me guess, she goes, This must be your uncle.

  20

  Basically what happens is me and Al get taken to the station and given this whole series of warnings from this constable, which lasts for like, two whole hours. Of course the whole story about running away comes out - and how we're going back right the next morning - but nobody seems to care much about that. They're all far too busy competing with each other for the right to lecture us. All the while The Bitch patrols up and down like she's guarding us or something
. Then, when it's finally over, we actually get told how lucky we are getting let off so lightly. It's like, yeah, lucky us.

  Then it turns out Jon's been working on a lecture of his own all this time while waiting outside for us in the car. He gives it to us as he drives us back to the flat, really slowly, all this stuff about how just because you feel strongly about something doesn't mean you can just go ahead and do whatever you like blah-blah-blah. But it's not so bad as the constable's, and by the time we get back to the flat he's quite tearful and he tells us both that he's glad nothing happened to us and he'll take the day off tomorrow to drive us home. Al's like, That's so sweet of you! and he kind of sniffles and tells us to go inside while he sorts his car out. I turn round to Al and make a face that's supposed to mean she should beat it. She stares at me dumbly for a second, probably numb from all the lecturing, but then she gets it and goes in. Me and Jon sit there staring out the windscreen and not saying anything for a long time. It's like, my, what an interesting road.

  Eventually I take the plunge. I'm like, Listen. Thanks.

  Jon's like, Sure - no problem! in this ironic way like everything's so twisted even the idea of me thanking him is a total head-fuck. At this point I become aware of the fact that he really seems older than me, the way he's sat there at the wheel and frowning away the great-grandmother of all frowns.

  I'm like, I'm sorry you cut short your date.

  He gives this hoot of a laugh and then turns to me, and he's got this super-sage Gandalf-style expression on his face, a bit like the hero always gets at the end of the episode of some TV show where he's supposed to have come to a really important conclusion about life.

  I'm not sorry. I'm glad, he says in this deep, mysterious voice. It's totally barfworthy, and I want to ask him, Do you even know what you're talking about? but I figure it's better to quit while I'm ahead. If he thinks he's learned something from all this then good for him. Hopefully it's at least something useful, like how to hold your breath or something. Anyway he still wants to 'sort out' the car, so I leave him to have his private moment or whatever and go inside to collapse next to Al on the sofa-bed.