All About the Hype

by Paige Toon

  ‘Do you know where Agnes is?’ My eyes dart between the two boys. ‘I want to say goodbye.’

  ‘She’s with Brett,’ Brandon reveals.

  ‘Brett?’ I say with surprise. I didn’t realise he was even here tonight. Brett is the Aussie guy Agnes almost lost her virginity to when we were in San Francisco. She’s known him since she was ten, but he went back to Australia a couple of years ago and is only in California on holiday.

  ‘Yeah, she invited him along. She didn’t think you’d mind,’ Jack explains.

  ‘Of course I don’t.’ She’s probably been pining for him since she’s been in Washington. ‘Do you guys think you could track her down for me, though? I want to thank her again for tonight before I leave, but I don’t really want to face anyone else.’

  ‘Sure,’ Brandon says.

  ‘See you soon,’ I say, stepping in to give him a hug.

  ‘Band practice this week,’ he reminds me.

  ‘I’m looking forward to it.’ I turn back to Jack. ‘I’m going to go and pack my overnight stuff.’

  I can tell he’s frustrated at not being able to talk openly.

  ‘Let me drive you to the hotel,’ he says, giving me a meaningful look.

  ‘No, it’s OK. I’ll go on the bus with the others.’

  He stares at me for a long moment, then turns to his bandmate. ‘Dude, can you go make a start on finding Agnes?’

  Brandon gives him a weird look, then shrugs and sets off back round the side of the house. As soon as he’s out of earshot, Jack turns to me again.

  ‘Let me drive you,’ he says firmly.

  ‘Fine,’ I reply, relenting. I was kind of looking forward to getting back on the warm, safe bus with my friends, but I don’t want to piss him off any more tonight.

  Jack is parked on the road outside, so we agree to meet by the bus so we can walk up the super-long drive together.

  My friends are already waiting by the time I make it outside with my overnight things. The party is still in full swing in the igloo and I feel a pang of guilt that I’m leaving Johnny to deal with everyone.

  ‘Are you sure you don’t mind me going?’ I ask him when I find him talking to Stu. He doesn’t even have Meg here for company because she took the boys to stay at a friend’s house so they wouldn’t be disturbed by the noise.

  ‘Of course not,’ he replies gruffly. ‘I’ll see you in the morning, yeah?’

  ‘Not too early. I might have breakfast with my friends.’

  ‘You’re all welcome back here afterwards. They’re not flying out until the afternoon.’

  ‘I wish they didn’t have to go at all.’

  He looks disheartened as his shoulders slump. ‘Sorry, chick, the weekend was the best I could do. They’ve got to be back for school.’

  ‘I know. And I really do appreciate it,’ I tell him sincerely, squeezing his arm.

  He gives me a small smile as he pulls me in for a hug.

  ‘Jack’s giving me a lift to the hotel, by the way.’ I throw that casually in there as we step back from each other.

  His eyes widen. ‘What? Why aren’t you catching the bus?’

  ‘Please don’t make a fuss,’ I beg. ‘He wants to drive me.’

  ‘Follow directly behind the bus, then,’ he commands, and I get the feeling I could get away with pretty much anything tonight if I asked. ‘No detours.’

  ‘I promise,’ I declare.

  ‘The bus driver will drop you at Jack’s car,’ Johnny adds, getting onto the bus to tell the driver before I can object.

  ‘Are you OK?’ Agnes asks cautiously, appearing with Jack. ‘Jack said you’ve been upset.’

  ‘It’s been a strange day, but I’ll talk to you later. We’ve got a lot to catch up on!’

  ‘On that note, Tuesday, after school,’ she states. ‘You, me, Jack, Brett, let’s go for a coffee to celebrate your first day.’

  I smile at her. ‘That’s a perfect idea.’

  We give each other a hug and I thank her again for the dress, the make-overs and all of the organising she did, not to mention how she took me under her wing earlier and introduced me to everyone under the sun. School is going to be far less frightening, thanks to her.

  Finally I turn to Jack.

  He doesn’t look enthralled with the small change in our plans, especially as a hush falls over my friends when we board the bus.

  ‘Jack’s giving me a lift to my hotel,’ I explain. ‘The driver’s dropping us at his car.’

  Natalie edges over to make room for us, but you could cut the tension in the air with a knife as we sit down. Tom stares at Jack blackly from the other side of the table. Jack looks away, seemingly nonplussed, though I’m guessing he’s anything but.

  ‘Are you cool with me crashing on your floor?’ I ask, looking at Libby, Lou, Natalie and Em in turn. I don’t care whose room I sleep in, I’m just trying to break this awkward silence.

  They all gush that of course it’s absolutely fine, and there are two double beds in Libby and Lou’s room, and I can have one of them, and I’m barely even listening because Tom’s jaw is twitching and his hands have flexed into fists on the table.

  Jack abruptly gets to his feet and walks down the length of the bus to talk to the driver. A few moments later, the bus slows to a stop.

  ‘See you guys in a bit,’ I say apprehensively. The doors whoosh open and I follow Jack off.

  He looks livid as he points his key at his dark-grey Audi A3. The lights flash as the doors unlock and he opens the door for me, standing back to let me climb inside. He slams the door behind me and I flinch as he goes round to his door. The bus hasn’t set off yet, and I’m all too aware that my friends may be watching.

  Jack keeps his eyes forward as he starts up the ignition and pulls away from the kerb.

  ‘That was fun,’ he mutters sarcastically.

  ‘You should’ve let me go with them, then,’ I state with annoyance.

  ‘Just tell me one thing,’ he says forcefully, glancing at me. ‘Should I be worried about Tom?’

  ‘No!’ I exclaim, shocked. How could someone as cool and confident as Jack feel threatened?

  ‘Because if I was going out with someone who screwed me over, I sure as hell wouldn’t fly across the Atlantic at her beck and call.’

  ‘Well, that’s just it, isn’t it?’ I snap. ‘You’ve never had a proper relationship with anyone, so how the hell would you know what lengths you’d go to for someone you really cared about? And he does care for me, Jack! We were friends first, and he knows how hard today was going to be for me. My mum died a year, a year—’ My voice breaks and my throat swells and suddenly I can’t finish my sentence.

  He roughly shoves his hair back from his face in frustration as he senses where this is going. ‘I’m sorry,’ he mutters, but it’s too late. I let out a sob. ‘Oh, God,’ he murmurs, his anger evaporating as he places his hand on my knee and I proceed to cry my heart out. He pulls over to the side of the road and wrenches his handbrake on, then turns and takes me in his arms, stroking my hair as I snot all over his black shirt.

  A little voice inside me wonders if this is putting him off, if this is too heavy for him, but another voice shouts over it that if it is, so be it.

  This is me. This is part of who I am.

  ‘My dad’s going to go ape-shit if you don’t follow the bus,’ I mumble eventually, my voice muffled against his shoulder.

  He reluctantly lets me go and starts the car.

  I dry my eyes and blow my nose on a tissue from my overnight bag and then cast him a long look as he takes off down the winding hill. He still seems very apprehensive, but he’s no longer mad.

  ‘Do you wanna talk about it?’ he asks carefully after a while.

  ‘What, my mum?’

  ‘Yeah.’ He swallows. ‘You’ve never really talked about her. How did she…’

  ‘Die?’

  He nods, his expression tense.

  ‘She went out to buy my birthday cak
e and the glass from a fourth-storey window fell onto the pavement where she was walking.’

  ‘Jesus.’ He exhales heavily.

  I want to tell him about the cake, that Mum had saved up to get it from a more expensive shop than we could usually afford, but Jack comes from a wealthy rock-star family himself, so I doubt he’d understand what it meant to me. His dad, Billy Mitchell, was the lead singer of Casino Girl, so Jack has more in common with Jessie Jefferson, my new self, than with Jessie Pickerill and my past.

  Jack takes my hand and brings it to rest on his thigh as he drives, giving it a squeeze before reaching for his iPhone in the centre console. He turns it on and starts searching for something.

  ‘You shouldn’t be messing with that while you’re driving,’ I scold.

  ‘It’s OK, I got it,’ he replies. ‘Something to cheer you up,’ he adds, as The Wombats’ ‘Greek Tragedy’ starts to play.

  I smile across at him as he taps out the drumbeat on the steering wheel. The Wombats are one of my favourite bands and they always take me to a happy place.

  I swivel to face him, feeling a bit better as I lean my cheek against the cool leather of the seat.

  ‘Can you play the drums?’ I ask, watching him.

  He nods, but doesn’t stop singing along.

  ‘That’s cool.’

  ‘Miles can play guitar, too. Did you know that?’ He gives me a sideways look.

  ‘I didn’t. But none of you play the keyboard?’

  ‘Not well. You still wanna learn?’ he asks.

  ‘If you guys think it’d be a good idea,’ I say. It was Johnny who’d suggested it.

  He flashes me a grin. ‘Definitely.’

  I stay there like that, watching him with a flutter in my stomach as he sings along to the rest of the song, and then another track comes on, and another, and my eyelids begin to feel heavy. The next thing I know, he’s unclicking my seatbelt.

  ‘Where are we?’ I ask, jolting awake.

  ‘Hotel.’

  I look out of the window to see the upside-down, red-and-white sign of The Standard, the super-cool hotel where my friends are staying.

  Jack brushes his thumb along the side of my face. ‘You OK?’ he asks softly, staring into my eyes.

  I nod sleepily. ‘Tired.’ I jolt again. ‘Where’s the bus?’

  ‘Right in front of us,’ he says. ‘I caught it up.’

  ‘Top marks.’

  He gives me a small smile. I gather my things together and turn back to him before exiting the car. ‘I’ll call you tomorrow.’

  He glowers as he looks past me to the bus, and Tom, I presume.

  I lean forward to give him a quick peck, but, as I’m about to draw away, he takes my face in his hands and deepens the kiss.

  ‘I told you I don’t need reminding,’ I murmur against his mouth as my insides turn into a mushy mess.

  ‘Not worth the risk,’ he replies, letting me go with a smirk.

  I get out of the car to find Stu frowning at me, and my friends looking tactfully away. So they all saw that. My face burns and I feel slightly sick as I walk towards them.

  I was trying not to rub Jack in Tom’s face, and I’ve just failed miserably.

  ‘Straight to bed, guys,’ Stu says slightly sternly, as we all walk into the hotel lobby together.

  Half of my friends have moved on to college so they really must be knackered if they’re following their ex-teacher’s orders without so much as a roll of their eyes. I cast an apologetic look in Tom’s direction, my heart clenching as I realise he’s angry and upset. He doesn’t meet my eyes as I call out goodnight and we file into our respective bedrooms.

  I’m sharing with Libby, and Lou, who uses the bathroom first, while I kick off my shoes and flop down on the bed. Libby comes to lie beside me, offering me a small smile.

  ‘You did it,’ she says quietly. ‘It’s after midnight.’

  I smile at her, and then suddenly everything goes blurry and all I can see of my oldest friend is a cloud of ginger hair framing her kind face.

  ‘Oh, Jessie,’ she says, taking my hand and cuddling me to her as I burst into tears again.

  We lie with our heads on one pillow, our foreheads pressed together, and it occurs to me with painful clarity that the last time we did this was on the night of my mum’s funeral. Libby is my dearest friend in the whole world, and she and her entire family had been at the church that day, but Marilyn and Libby had sat up at the very front with Stu and me. I’d begged for Libby to be allowed to come and stay at my house that night. She’d slept in my bed and held me, just like she’s doing now. I don’t know how I ever grew apart from her, how I could ever have pushed her away, but I did. I’m so glad she’s here now, because no one else knows what I’ve been through as well as she does.

  ‘I love you, Libby,’ I say in a small voice.

  ‘I love you, too, Jessie,’ she whispers, and I can hear from her tone that she’s also crying. ‘Now try to get some sleep.’

  Chapter 5

  Tom is leaving to catch a bus to San Francisco after breakfast, and I’m gutted at how quickly my time with him has slipped away. I ask if we can talk in private before he goes.

  He nods reluctantly and we head upstairs to the rooftop. There’s a swimming pool up here and a bar, too, plus several big, red, pod-like things with mattresses inside them.

  ‘Shall we sit in there?’ I point at one of the pods and lead the way, gasping with surprise when I climb in and the mattress wobbles beneath me.

  ‘A waterbed!’ Tom exclaims, as he enters the pod through another entrance. We both try to crawl across the bed to the edges, but we give up and collapse onto our stomachs, laughing.

  Somehow we manage to turn onto our backs. We continue to chuckle and it breaks the ice. Eventually we fall silent and lie side by side, looking out at the view of downtown’s nearby skyscrapers piercing the dreary morning sky. The sun is hidden behind thick grey cloud today.

  Now that we’re here, I don’t know what to say, other than that I’m sorry, and I’ve already said that a hundred times.

  I reach over and take his hand, giving it a squeeze. A moment later, he squeezes it back.

  ‘Are you sure about him?’ he asks quietly.

  ‘No,’ I reply honestly.

  He turns his head to look at me. I try to roll onto my side to face him, but the movement makes me feel queasy.

  ‘Urgh,’ I say, pulling a face.

  He looks momentarily amused, but his expression soon grows sombre.

  ‘Why?’ he asks, and I think he means: why Jack? ‘I know he’s good-looking and everything, but I get the feeling he’d go for anything in a skirt.’

  I shake my head, my stomach lurching, now for reasons other than the heaving surface we’re lying on. ‘That’s not true.’ Although it might be – sort of. ‘He’s not like that with me.’

  ‘Isn’t he?’ Tom challenges.

  ‘I don’t think so…’ I reply. ‘He’s different when we’re alone.’

  ‘It shouldn’t matter if you’re alone or not,’ he says. ‘I barely even saw him speak to you last night, apart from when you were in his car.’

  He looks thoroughly sickened at the reminder. My heart twists because I really regret kissing Jack like that in full view of everyone. It just sort of happened. Jack does that to me – he makes me act without thinking. OK, so he kissed me, but I could have stopped it from turning into a full-blown snog.

  ‘He couldn’t cosy up to me at the party because no one else knows that we’re together.’

  ‘So Lou said. To me it just sounds like he doesn’t give enough of a shit about you to rock the boat with his mates.’ He rakes his fingers through his brown hair and rests his head on his hand, staring dismally up at the roof of the pod.

  ‘That’s not true,’ I try to convince him. ‘He does care about me. You don’t know him. You should have seen how he was with me in the car last night.’

  ‘I saw how he was with you in the car l
ast night,’ he reminds me with disgust.

  ‘I meant before that, when I was crying,’ I say quickly. ‘He does care about me, Tom. I know you don’t believe it but he does.’

  ‘So that’s it, then? Is he your boyfriend now? I mean, have you well and truly moved on?’

  I swallow. ‘Yes,’ I tell him truthfully, although I’m still not sure about the boyfriend part. ‘And you should move on, too.’

  He sighs heavily.

  ‘I still hope we can be friends,’ I say quietly.

  ‘I said I’d try,’ he states flatly.

  ‘I’m glad you came,’ I reiterate gently, wishing I could touch him, but knowing I should keep my distance.

  ‘I’m glad, too,’ he says eventually. ‘Despite having to see that total dick in person.’

  I decide not to annoy him further by jumping to Jack’s defence.

  ‘Good luck with your dad today,’ I say.

  ‘Thanks,’ he mumbles, sitting up and causing the mattress to wobble violently. ‘Christ,’ he says, clutching his hand to his stomach. ‘This thing is making me want to hurl.’

  I laugh and sit up, too. ‘I guess we’d better join the others for breakfast. Can I call you next week? Find out how it all went?’

  He pauses for a moment before nodding. ‘Yeah, OK.’

  We go through the rigmarole of climbing out of the pod again, but, once we’re standing in front of each other, the smiles slip from our faces.

  ‘I still care about you,’ I blurt, my eyes welling up with tears.

  ‘I care about you, too,’ he mumbles. And then he pulls me in for a hug, crushing the air out of my lungs as he squeezes me once – hard – before letting me go.

  Later that afternoon, I find myself sitting outside on the bench on our terrace, resting my elbows on the stone table in front of me as I gaze down at the city. My friends have all left now, and Stu, too, and there’s still a deep sadness in the pit of my stomach – a knot that I haven’t been able to unravel all weekend.

  Meg came home a couple of hours ago and now she and the boys are inside with Johnny.

  I walked in on her hugging my dad earlier. She looked like she was comforting him. I presume he’s told her that I bailed out of my own birthday party, the one that he so painstakingly arranged.