...And a Happy New Year?

by Holly Bourne

  “Of course, of course, it’s in the kitchen. Wanna game?”

  Evie and I raised our eyebrows at each other.

  “We’re in.”

  I’m not drunk, you’re drunk.

  Woahhhh. This party is BRILLIANT. Everyone, like EVERYONE is here. From my past. My happy wonderful past. Where I was the kick-ass girl who spawned the Vagilante campaign. Not the prudish housemate everyone laughs about in the kitchen.

  I am in the kitchen. Because that’s where the wine is.

  And I am drinking the wine.

  I mean – it is New Year’s EVE. Festival of the… umm…somethingorothers. It’s, like, against TRADITION not to have a few drinks on a day as historic as that.

  I am rambling at someone. But they seem intrigued. Maybe because I am propping myself up on their shoulder.

  “I mean, Home Alone,” I am saying. “Mad, isn’t it? Stupid Macaulay Culkin. And, like, why was it up to the MUM to give a shit about her son maybe getting murdered in their family home? The dad is all like JUST CALM DOWN, DEAR, but their kid COULD DIE.” Ethan is grinning at my hand being on his shoulder. I only just realized I’m talking to Ethan again. You should stop touching him, you have a boyfriend, is a thought that just came into my head. Or did it? I can’t remember thoughts. “Also” – I’m really leaning on Ethan – “who doesn’t like toppings on their pizza? I mean what the heck is wrong with Kevin in Home Alone anyway? He only likes cheese pizza! What is the POINT of pizza if you don’t have any toppings?”

  Laughter, there’s laughter. And then Ethan is gone and I’m holding the table to keep myself upright. Not because I’m drunk. Just because my arm needs proper support to give my body proper support. That’s just PHYSICS.

  Where is Will? Why isn’t he here yet? Why was there no kiss in the message and no sex in my uni bedroom? I do not like feeling this way. Needy and worried and jumpy. Leap leap leaping out of my skin the moment my phone goes. Will never usually makes me feel like this. Will and I. Me and Will. Lottie and Will. Will and Lottie. We are A Good Couple. He is so nice and strong and good for me and good in bed that he’s made me stay in a relationship for a YEAR. A whole year of my prime experimentation years. Yes, being in different unis is hard. Everyone says that – all smug and knowing-it-all – but we’re managing, aren’t we?

  OOOH BEER PONG. KYLE IS HERE AND HE’S STARTED A GAME OF BEER PONG.

  I’m not very good at beer pong…

  No, I don’t feel sick. YOU feel sick. I don’t get sick. I’m just outside because you need fresh air sometimes. And, look, here is this wall, I may just lean against it and spit a little bit because sometimes you need to spit.

  “Lottie?”

  Amber! Amber is here.

  Oh bollocks, she’s angry. She always seems angry with me these days. Not that I see her much these days. I’m telling her it will be fine. Because it will be fine. Everything is fine. I’m fine. Uni is fine. Our friendship is fine. Will is fine. We are fine. The vomit on the wall which I’m sure isn’t mine is fine. Well, maybe it’s a bit mine. But it’s more spit than vomit.

  Amber’s stormed off now, leaving me here in the dark and cold.

  It’s very dark and cold in the dark and cold.

  I know! I’ll make her happy! I’ll clean the vomit off the wall and then she’ll be thankful and then we can get back to how we used to be because even though, yes, I’ve had a bit of wine I can tell things aren’t how they used to be.

  Which is sad.

  So sad that I’m crying a little bit in this shed I’ve found.

  That may also be a bit to do with the fact I’ve pronged my bum with a garden fork.

  Ouch.

  Bum hurts.

  Hose! Here’s the hose.

  I’m not drunk because drunk people totally can’t attach a freaking hose to a garden tap and that is something I’ve just done totally unaided.

  Splish splash splosh. All the vom is coming off the wall nicely.

  Hang on, why is the hose spraying me?

  IT’S SO WET OH MY GOD IT’S WET AND COLD AND SLIPPERY…AHH I’M ON THE FLOOR AND I’M SO WET AND FREEZING FREEZING.

  Amber! Amber is here and she’s helping! And smiling!

  The water has gone. Every inch of my skin is an icicle but the water has gone. And Evie is here. Evie! I love Evie. She’s so good and brave and strong. What a lovely hug. God, I love these girls. Why have we let things get weird? We have to mend things. I know! We’ll blow off the party and go upstairs and have a Spinster Club meeting, like old times. It will be brilliant. It’s just what I need. I miss them. I need them back. Why have they even gone? This hug is so nice.

  Hang on? Did Evie just say Will is here?

  I need to find Will.

  The party is busy, people everywhere. Oh, there’s the beer pong! I wasn’t very good at the beer pong. No Will there though. There is Ethan again. He has just reached his arm around my waist, trying to pull me into him.

  “Don’t be sleazy!” I push him off.

  Maybe he’s swearing at me as I walk away. I’m not sure, the music is loud.

  Bash bash bash goes the music. My mouth tastes of sick a little bit.

  No Will in the living room. But Jane is there. WITHOUT JOEL. Duh duh DUHHHHHH. She dumped him after she went off to uni, I heard. Found some other guy to dedicate her entire life to. Whoops. That was mean. I’m not supposed to be mean about Jane. It upsets Evie. No Will downstairs. Up the stairs I go.

  OWWWW FELL OVER ON THE STUPID STAIRS.

  Stupid stairs. What are they doing there? Where is Will? All these people in the corridor, in my way. For some reason they keep asking, “Lottie, are you okay?” And there, there is Will. I can see his blond hair and the glint of his glasses. His little head in Amber’s parents’ room, where people are sitting around playing poker.

  “WILL!” I announce my arrival, leaning against the door to try and look sexy and also, for some reason, because I’m not very good at standing up properly right now.

  Will looks up and it makes my heart hurt. I missed him. I really missed him. I love his little face. Even if it looks pissed off, or maybe I’m imagining that.

  “Lottie.” He stands up and begins stepping over the poker game delicately to get to me. “I couldn’t find you.”

  I have a thought. Why did he not look harder? Why did he arrive and start playing poker and not try and find me harder? But I push it away and launch myself at him. I jump into his arms and wrap my legs around him, which always looks damn amazing in the films. But Will isn’t ready or prepared or Channing Tatum so he buckles under my weight and we fall to the floor, me on top of him.

  Everyone is laughing and applauding and yelling “OH MY GOD, FA-IL!” while Will tips me off him, his glasses all askew and says, “Jesus, Lottie, how drunk are you?” He scrambles to stand up, then looks down at himself…and the wet stains on his shirt. “Why are you soaking wet?”

  “I missed you!” I say, still on the floor, struggling to stand. “Did you miss me? How was skiing? Why are you being weird with me?”

  My arm. He’s holding my arm. Leading me out of the room, down the hallway.

  “Lottie, jeez, why are you so wasted?”

  I cross my arms. “I’m not wasted, you’re wasted.” He sighs and runs his hands through his hair, while I just stand there. Almost on the verge of tears.

  “Why didn’t you have sex with me?”

  “What? I mean, what?”

  Why did I say that? Why did that come out? We didn’t even really say hello. And straight in I go, into the bad stuff. Will is frowning. He always seems to be frowning.

  “When you came over to mine?” Is my voice that slurry? I can hardly understand myself. “You didn’t have sex with me. And then you just messaged and you didn’t put a kiss and…and…and…” Oh no…the vomit…there’s more vomit to come… No no, not here, not with Will here, looking at me like that. “…and…HANG ON A MOMENT.”

  Running. Running to the bathroom. Knock
knocking. Yelling, “Let me in.” Door opens. Run inside. Fall to knees. Be sick.

  Sick again.

  And again.

  Ouch my throat hurts.

  Will here. Holding my hair back.

  Saying nice things.

  Also saying, “Lottie, what the hell is going on?”

  Stopped being sick now.

  Just crying. Not sure why I’m crying. But I am.

  Will’s hand rubbing my back. “Come on, Lottie. There’s a queue outside.”

  Trying to pick myself up off the floor. “Did you miss me, Will? When you were away?”

  His hands under my armpits, pulling me up. “Come on, up you come.”

  “Why did you laugh with my housemates? You know they’re not nice to me.”

  Gently guiding me into Amber’s room, if the smell of oil paints is anything to go by. “I think you need a lie-down.”

  “Will? Will?”

  “Shh shh. Just sleep it off a bit. I’ll wake you before midnight.”

  Getting under Amber’s covers. Can smell Amber’s perfume on them.

  “Will? What’s going on? With you and me. Something is going on.”

  And even through my drunken haze, I see something cross his face. A wince. One he suppresses instantly.

  “Lottie, not tonight. It’s New Year’s Eve. Shh. Just lie back, have a nap.”

  “I DON’T WANT A NAP, I WANT YOU TO TELL ME WHAT’S GOING ON.”

  But the bed really is very soft. And the duvet really is very warm. And the pillow really is very sinky. And I really am very cold from being wet. And my throat really is very sore. And my head really is very heavy.

  And Will is stroking my hair. And he wouldn’t stroke my hair if he didn’t still love me, would he? And…and…

  …and…

  The walk to the party was beyond cold. I almost wanted the ability to remove my arms from their sockets, just so I could wrap them around myself further. The streets buzzed and fizzed with New Year energy – hollow thuds of music echoing as I walked past people’s houses, pissed-up merrymakers stumbling across the pavement wearing novelty headbands. I felt a rush of annoyance at Lottie all of a sudden, thinking, See, our little town isn’t so bad. Yes, it’s not London, but it’s got something. But I pushed it away. Unlike Amber, I like to give people the benefit of the doubt, and I could sense Lottie’s London boasting might not be coming from the happiest of places. I was willing to give her these holidays to hopefully tell us as much.

  Or maybe I was just an idiot. Friendships die. They die every day. People grow up and grow apart and the threads holding you together snap or fall to the floor and all you’re left with are bittersweet memories.

  URGENT THOUGHT

  You can’t lose those girls. Not now.

  BAD THOUGHT

  So why aren’t you telling them about Oli?

  It was too cold to get my phone out but I could feel it buzzing in my pocket.

  I knew what the messages would say anyway…

  I heard Amber’s party before I turned the corner. The Dixie Chicks’ wails echoed down her cul-de-sac. I smiled. She must still be in control of the playlist.

  “Boys always take over the playlists at parties, have you ever noticed?” Amber had complained to me. “It’s never a girl aggressively plugging in her phone, assuming they can do better. God, feminism is everywhere, even at parties, isn’t it?”

  Clumps of shivering smokers lined her garden path as I walked up to the door, nodding hello to some people I recognized from college. Everyone looked slightly different – sporting a new haircut, or piercing, or article of clothing I wouldn’t have ever seen them in at college. Uni was changing all of us – giving us the chance to carve out new identities, free from the suffocating fumes of growing up in a small town where Who You Are is settled on so young, labels sticking to you with reinforced superglue. Even I was enjoying my second rendition of not being the-girl-who-went-nuts.

  I pushed through the front door and the party swallowed me whole, my ears instantly ringing with the music, my fringe getting sweaty with the warmth of so many people. I stood on tiptoe to try and find anyone I knew, but couldn’t see over all the heads. I’d just have to ferret around people’s ankles like bloody always.

  But first – my phone.

  I waited outside the downstairs loo, trying not to think about how many different people of different drunk and hygiene levels had already used it that evening. The lock scraped back and a girl from Amber’s art class last year smiled as she stepped to one side. She smelled nice, of perfume, and had flushed the loo, so it wasn’t as bad as I’d thought.

  I wrapped my hand in tissue, then used it to put the seat down, sitting on the loo like it was a chair.

  Five messages.

  All from Oli.

  Hey, I’m sorry about earlier.

  I’m really sorry.

  I didn’t mean to send two messages, sorry. Have a good night.

  How’s the party?

  I’m sorry I can’t be there.

  I sighed, my eyes prickling as I read them all.

  BAD THOUGHT

  Honestly, Oli. I just got here!

  BAD THOUGHT

  Why is he being so needy? Why can’t he just let me enjoy the party?

  BAD THOUGHT

  If you don’t reply straight away he might spiral.

  I lifted my head to the ceiling, feeling panic and claustrophobia creep in, invading my brain. Taking over.

  BAD THOUGHT

  You’re not going to be able to handle this, Evie.

  BAD THOUGHT

  But you can’t break up with him, Evie. Then what will he do?

  Deep breaths. In for five, out for seven. In for five, out for seven. Only send one message back. In for five, out for seven. Otherwise you’re just buying into his anxiety. In for five, out for seven. That’s what the therapist said. In for five, out for seven. It may seem cruel, but it’s what’s best for him. In for five, out for seven. In for…

  I jumped at the loud knock at the door.

  “ARE YOU DOING A MASSIVE SHIT IN THERE OR SOMETHING?”

  Oh God… “Sorry, just a second!”

  I punched in a reply.

  I love you, stop saying sorry. I’ll speak to you at midnight.

  Then opened the door to find Will.

  “Will!”

  “Evie.” His eyes were bloodshot beneath his glasses.

  “I wasn’t doing a poo. I was just on my phone.”

  “Nice to see you too.” He laughed. “I really need the loo though. I came straight from the airport.”

  “Oh okay.” I stepped aside to let him past. “You seen Lottie? I only just got here.”

  Will’s face scrunched up, only for a second before he recovered, but still. Enough for me to snuffle out something was wrong. Oh God, I hoped Lottie and him were okay. I’d only just got around to liking him.

  “Nope, can’t find her. I really need to pee now.” He was still smiling as he closed the door, but he was still closing the door.

  I explored the rest of the party, looking everywhere for Amber and Lottie. I needed them. I needed to just laugh with them and be with them and for them to take the piss out of me and make me forget all the scary stuff that was happening with Oli. I stumbled across Kyle, hosting a giant game of beer pong in the kitchen. He got very excited by me – picking me up like a toy and swirling me around the room, his breath smelling of beer.

  “EVIE BUDDY, YOU MADE IT.”

  He really was so very wonderful and American. He put me down when I asked him to and directed me to the garden.

  “Amber’s outside. Probably on the phone to her dad, I think. Trying to convince him she’s not having a party.”

  And there, as I stepped out into the darkness, there they were. Lottie soaking wet for some unknown reason. We all hugged, Lottie getting her wetness all over me and in that moment I relaxed. Even though I could feel my phone vibrating through my coat pocket. They were here, after t
his weird term, we were all together again. I felt…whole. Well, I did until Lottie found out Will’d arrived and vanished like a magic trick.

  Amber asked how Oli was.

  My throat clammed up.

  BAD THOUGHT

  You can’t tell her. She’ll tell you to break up with him.

  BAD THOUGHT

  And maybe you want to hear that.

  WORSE THOUGHT

  Because you’re struggling with this, Evie. You’re really struggling.

  So, when we went inside and Kyle came over again, sweeping Amber up into his wonderful arms, and challenged us to a game of beer pong, the only thought I had was…

  Might as well.

  So, I’m not very good at beer pong.

  “It’s not fair,” I said. “I swear I’m only this bad because I’m tall and therefore further away from the table.”

  I aimed, took a shot, and then got the ball right into one of Evie’s red cups.

  The crowd surrounding us cheered and started chanting, “Chug it, chug it, chug it.”

  Evie desperately picked up the red cup and tipped her head back, getting a lot of it down her nice black dress.

  “I’M AMAZING AT BEER PONG,” I declared.

  Evie wiped her mouth, and took her turn. She squinted, fierce concentration on her face, her eyes narrowed, she let go of the ball and…and…

  …bollocks, it plopped right into one of my cups.

  The crowd went crazy. CHUGCHUGCHUGCHUG. I had no choice but to pick up the cup and down the beer inside. At least it was only beer.

  Kyle, the sensible but wonderful man that he is, says it’s imperative you always keep it to beer pong, rather than gin or vodka pong, “Otherwise sick most definitely will end up on your parents’ carpet and they’ll get me deported.”

  Kyle leaned in, his breath tickling my ear. “I think we should concede, gorgeous. Otherwise we’re both going to be too wasted to look after all the other wasted people.”

  “That is a very fair and valid point.”

  I raised my hands in surrender and everyone groaned. “I have to make sure you don’t all trash the place,” I protested.

  Evie leaped into the air in triumph. “I won a game! I won beer pong. I am the QUEEN OF BEER PONG. I AM MASTER AND CHAMPION OF THE PONG UNIVERSE OF THE BEER VARIETY.”