by Kirsty Eagar
Then someone grabbed Jess’s toga, jerking her backwards and temporarily choking her.
‘We’ve got drinks,’ Leanne said, dragging her through the crowd and out onto the deck, where a couple of Unity girls were sitting on one of the heavy outdoor tables, bracketing a large collection of white plastic cups filled with black liquid. They were playing admiring audience to four knights holding lightsabers, who staged a mock battle in front of them.
Jess glanced around the deck, realising that a large proportion of the people there were either Unity girls or knights—easily identifiable as such because they’d painted their faces with blue zinc cream. ‘I forgot about that.’
‘We invented it!’ Leanne sounded offended.
‘I know, but … I want out. Any chance you’ll walk me back to college?’
‘Not unless I’m riding a knight,’ Leanne said. ‘Why?’
‘Brendan’s here.’
‘He probably just wants you to get better,’ Leanne said, a smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth. Leanne, like Brendan, was doing psychology. With the fullness of time, Jess had come to wonder at how that course was full of truly fucked-up people. ‘Come on, drink it out, bitch.’ Leanne handed her two of the cups, then took two for herself. They clinked and skolled each drink, one after the other, and Jess made a face. Bourbon.
‘Here, this will cheer you up. Meet this guy.’ Leanne grabbed one of the duelling knights as he passed them. ‘Jess, this is Richie. Richie, Jess.’
‘Richard,’ the guy corrected good-naturedly. He was tousle-haired, rosy-cheeked and wet-lipped—a fresher, for sure.
‘Now, now, better Richie than Dick,’ Leanne admonished him. ‘Richie is doing economics, Jess. Just like you. Maybe you should take him home tonight and find out whether he’s micro or macro.’
Jess watched Richie/Richard flick rapidly and vigorously at his eyelid with his fingernails. ‘Maybe you should,’ she told Leanne.
He gave them an overexcited laugh. ‘Maybe you both should!’ Then he did the thing to his eyelid again. The skin above it was purple, Jess noticed. Birthmark?
‘Richie has eczema,’ Leanne explained.
‘Yeah, something’s set it off. This place is really dusty.’
‘Richie, do you mind?’ Jess asked. ‘I want to talk to my friend.’
‘Sure,’ he said, and gambolled back to the duel.
‘I feel sorry for him,’ Jess hissed at Leanne.
‘I don’t,’ Leanne said. She tapped her ear spike. ‘In fact, I’m going to use this to pierce his—’
‘Uh, uh, uh!’ Jess warned, shaking a finger. ‘Nothing they can sue over. We talked about that, remember? Listen, what’s up with Allie?’
‘Don’t tell me there’s no wifi.’
‘I know you know. You’re the only person she trusts, the only one she talks to.’ And that’s the paradox of people, Jess thought. Because before her eyes, Leanne seemed to soften, basking in the words like a cat in sunshine.
‘Don’t. Say. Anything,’ she warned, handing Jess another two drinks and taking two for herself. She led Jess across to the spot where the deck’s siding met the wall. From there, they had a clear view of the grassed area downstairs, and Leanne pointed at one of the outdoor tables. Michael Azzopardi, Unity’s student council vice-president, was there, alongside his best bud, Duane, the two of them talking animatedly, entertaining a group of girls from one of the other colleges.
‘Who am I looking for?’ Jess asked.
‘You’re looking at him. Mikey.’
‘Okay, what about him?’ Jess asked. Mikey may well have had liquid brown eyes and been tall, olive-skinned and athletic—the sort who wouldn’t be out of place at Knights—but he’d never done anything for Jess. Well, he might have once: in the moment during O-week last year when she’d first spotted him, right before he’d opened his mouth. She frowned, trying to decode the situation. Mikey’s attention seemed focused on one girl specifically. Was she a clue? Was she connected to Allie somehow? Jess had seen her around, but didn’t know her. She was laughing at something Mikey had said, flicking her glossy black hair over her shoulder, gripping his arm.
‘Work it out,’ Leanne growled.
Jess blinked. ‘Mikey?’ Her voice rose. ‘Mikey?’
Leanne shushed her. ‘They got together on Sunday night. After the RE.’
Jess giggled. ‘But it’s … Mikey.’
‘Oh, yeah. This from the woman who ended up with Brendan.’ Inexplicably, that made Jess giggle more. ‘Thing is, Allie really likes him. And Mikey …’
‘Is Mikey.’ Jess tried to get it together. ‘Oh, man. So that’s why she was helping set up for the barbecue.’
‘She’s liked him for ages.’
‘Really? I never knew.’
‘How would you? Allie just howls inside.’
‘You think?’ Jess had never really seen Allie as being that way. Allie never complained, never explained. A lot of people took her as being aloof, but Jess, never able to stop herself from letting it all hang out, admired Allie’s restraint.
‘Shit, yeah. If her Instagram account isn’t the most passive-aggressive demand for attention ever, then what is it? Social media was made for introverts.’
Both girls froze. Down below, the girl who’d been flirting with Mikey had turned to one of her friends, their hands sliding over each other’s shoulders. With Mikey and Duane watching on admiringly—the whole thing was for their benefit, after all—the two girls shared a slow, lingering kiss.
‘Oh, yuck,’ Jess said crossly.
‘Evolve, bints,’ said Leanne.
Without pause or hesitation, each threw a drink. And in one of those precise, perfectly orchestrated moments of fate, the plastic cups traced twin arcs through the air before smashing into the head of the girl who’d been the object of Mikey’s attention.
‘Yeeeewww!’ With that, Leanne disappeared into the crowd.
‘Oh shit,’ Jess breathed, ducking down behind the siding.
‘Good shot.’
Jess turned to see the guy from the Knights laundry standing against the wall a short distance from her. She should have been shocked to see him, but she was actually more shocked by what she’d just done. He also seemed interested, craning his neck to see what was happening below.
‘Are they looking up here?’ she asked, watching his face for clues.
‘Why? Are you having regrets?’
‘Not really,’ Jess admitted.
‘Well, you’re in the clear. Because despite all laws of trajectory, they seem to think it came from somewhere downstairs. She’s not happy, though. You’ve messed up her hair.’
‘Good.’
Blondie gave her a questioning look. ‘Don’t tell me you like Michael Azzopardi?’
‘Not me.’
‘Are you going to stay down there all night?’
‘I don’t know. What’s happening now?’
‘She’s leaving. Mikey’s not very happy about it.’
Jess snorted. ‘Mikey. That’s what we call him, too. Hey, how do you know him, anyway?’
‘Come over here and I’ll tell you all about it.’
Jess did no such thing. Instead, she sat on the siding, turned sideways to see him, her back against the wall. For a moment, they just took each other’s measure. Unlike last time, Blondie was clean shaven, but his toga was awry, his hair stuck up in tufts, and his blue eyes glittered. He seemed a little loose. Jess wasn’t displeased to see him. In fact, she’d been hoping for it. If this was round two, bring it on.
She frowned, noticing the way his fingertips were digging into the brick. ‘What’s wrong? Are you afraid of heights or something?’
‘Yeah, so come over here. I can’t talk to you while you’re sitting there.’
‘It’s not even high,’ Jess said, leaning over to check.
‘It’s more of a structural thing,’ he said quickly. ‘Like, the railing might—Do you have to do that? Just come here.’
&n
bsp; ‘Your voice is different,’ Jess said, without moving.
‘Yeah? How?’
‘Sort of chummy. You didn’t strike me as chummy last time we met.’ Jess tilted her head to the side. ‘Old chap.’
‘When you were showing me your arse?’ he asked. Jess took a sip of her remaining drink, aware her face was betraying her, flushing. ‘Not that I minded,’ he added. ‘You’ve got a great arse.’
‘You’re not really a fresher, are you?’ she asked, deciding to change the subject.
‘I never said I was. You did, though. And you failed to mention you were from Unity.’
Jess was glad he’d figured it out. It made the stolen jersey sweeter. ‘You failed to ask.’
‘What’d you do with it, by the way?’ he asked, as if reading her mind.
‘Wouldn’t you like to know.’
‘What I’d like is for you to get off that ledge. Please.’
‘No, thank you. Why were you back at college early then? If you’re not a fresher, are you on the Knights student council?’
‘No. I just needed to be reindoctrinated. You’re looking more glamorous this time around.’
‘I pulled myself together in the hopes of seeing you again.’
‘I would have preferred hair down.’
‘I’ll make a note. Got any cigarettes?’
He shook his head. ‘Filthy habit. I’m sure your boyfriend says the same thing.’
‘Mitch? Mitch loves me smoking.’
‘That’s right. Good old Mitch. What do you think of him?’
‘That’s a very personal question.’
‘Only for Mitch. I bet he’s a fucking arsehole. Actually, I know he’s an arsehole. It’s a fact. Coroner certified.’
‘Coroner certified?’
‘It means it’s official. He’s not the guy for you.’
Jess narrowed her eyes at him. ‘Are you only pretending to be drunk?’
‘Haven’t had a drink all night. What are you pretending to be this time?’
Jess thought about it, then smiled. ‘Interested.’
Blondie tipped his head back and laughed into the night. ‘And she’s funny.’
Jess took note of his muscular neck, the width of his shoulders, the V of his chest, and felt something flutter in her stomach. She’d never been with a body like that. It was what girls were supposed to want, but she’d always been attracted to the personality, not the package. And maybe it was also because when a guy looked like that she automatically counted herself out.
Blondie hadn’t moved, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, staring at the stars like if he joined the dots he’d find an answer. And the moment pierced Jess, because it told her something about him she hadn’t expected. But then City Calm Down came on, and his head snapped back.
‘Great song,’ they said at the same time.
‘Wow, one thing in common,’ Jess said.
‘Let’s go back to your room and find the second.’
This time it was Jess who laughed. ‘And he’s quick. But we haven’t introduced ourselves.’
He shook his finger at her. ‘No names.’
‘Okay, Blondie.’ Jess considered him, tightening her ponytail. ‘I take it you’re after the jersey. Or are they holding another sweep?’
‘What sweep?’
His face was blank, but she wasn’t buying. For all she knew, he could have been one of the three. ‘The one where the first knight to sleep with a Unity girl wins.’
‘That’s a bit presumptuous, Jersey: thinking I want to sleep with you.’
‘Not at all. It’s true to your type.’
‘My type?’
‘A fully paid-up member of the boys’ club. You’d be doing it to teach me a lesson.’
‘You’d secretly want it, Jersey. Your type loves my type.’
‘Really?’ Jess asked, one eyebrow raised. ‘And what’s my type?’
‘Competitive.’
Jess opened her mouth and then closed it again, conceding ground with a smile.
Blondie laughed, but in a nice way, like he appreciated her honesty. ‘And the smile! It’s all right, Jersey. I guarantee you’ll finish the night disappointed. I’m a reformed man. You won’t be getting any.’
Jess made a coughing noise, searching for a putdown, but was distracted by Leanne and a couple of the other Unity girls taking Richie-the-knight’s arms and pulling him inside. As they did, she spotted Brendan standing in the doorway.
‘Oh, shit.’ She dashed across to the wall beside Blondie, flattening against the bricks.
‘You keep saying that. What’s wrong now?’ he asked, turning towards her, which was good because it meant she was blocked from view.
‘Nothing, I just—Nothing.’
‘Something’s wrong. You’ve gone white,’ he said. Jess snuck another a glance at Brendan. ‘Are we hiding from someone?’ Blondie asked, looking over his shoulder.
‘Don’t,’ Jess said in a terse voice. ‘Please.’
‘Indie squid in the doorway?’ Blondie asked, his voice sharp. ‘You should have told me you were with someone else.’ He went to move away, and Jess, terrified that he’d leave her exposed, grabbed his arm.
‘I’m not with him. We broke up a while ago, but he’s not taking it very well, so please just …’ She stared at him in a mute appeal, her eyes wide, and eventually he settled back against the wall.
And while they waited for Brendan to go, or to find them, Blondie watched Jess the whole time. But she didn’t care. Because how many times had Brendan accused her of looking at other guys when they’d been together? How many drunken arguments had they had? Him needling her for hours and hours and hours, until she’d wanted to lie and say, yes, he was right, just to get some peace, just to get some sleep. And all those times there’d been nothing, only drama he’d invented. So what would happen if he saw her talking to this guy? Because this time, despite her better instincts, despite even the fact of him being a knight, there was more than a flicker of attraction, and Brendan would know it. No matter that they were no longer together, he was still capable of making a scene.
‘He’s gone,’ Blondie said, and Jess realised he’d swivelled to take another look.
‘Are you sure?’
He nodded slowly, eyes narrowed like he was trying to work her out. ‘That was quite a reaction, Jersey. I’ve got to say I’m surprised.’ He paused while Jess finished most of her drink in one go, the cup rattling against her teeth. ‘I didn’t think you’d take shit from anybody.’
Jess met his eyes, her expression raw. ‘You’ve only seen me at my best.’
Something changed then. The tension that was in him released; his face no longer seeming guarded. He studied her with curiosity in his eyes, as if she’d somehow changed shape. And Jess, in turn, remembered how he’d stared up at the night sky, that drawn-out release of breath. She realised he’d told her the truth when he said he hadn’t been drinking, and he hadn’t painted his face blue like the other knights. She wondered if these things meant anything, and the swirl of the world around her quietened.
I doubt it.
He glanced down at his arm and she saw she was still holding him, but she didn’t let go. He was keeping her earthed. Then he moved, leaning forwards until his head was near hers, and she could smell the hot woody tang of his aftershave. They looked down into the space bracketed by their bodies; they watched him take her drink.
‘Do you mind?’ he asked. But he didn’t drink from it, just dropped it so he could pull her closer, and there was the warm shock of his skin. He pressed his mouth to her ear, and murmured, ‘You want me to walk you home?’
‘Be my knight in shining armour?’
‘Why not? You need one.’
It was all to script, but still Jess hesitated. Then she sighed, heavily, because there was no way to forget about sweeps and challenges and examples that needed to be made. At least it was easier like that: not looking at him.
‘Okay,’ she said
.
CHAPTER 6
GAMES
Blondie’s arm tightened around Jess’s shoulders as they left the balcony, until her cheek was pressed to his chest, and she realised he thought Brendan might be on the other side of the doorway. She kept her eyes down, pretending to be more out of it than she was, and then they were through and in the clear and Brendan was nowhere to be seen.
The DJ was playing Alison Wonderland and the room’s atmosphere echoed the energy of the music. Guys were sliding, running across the wet tiled floor and smashing into groups of people, knocking them over for the hell of it. Somebody must have recently collected the group that included Leanne and Richie, because they were on the floor, trying to disentangle themselves.
Farren was standing at the back of the line for the bar, surveying the room like a general watching a campaign unfold. She did not look impressed. The guy talking to her was a knight but, in Jess’s view, an unlikely one: pale-skinned and soft looking, with thick brown hair and a matching hipster beard, freckles—visible despite the blue smeared over his face—his glasses giving him an earnest look. Farren was nodding, as if she agreed with whatever he was saying. Why was she even talking to him? But then her eyes flashed as she spotted Jess. She didn’t pay Blondie much attention, and Jess took it as evidence he couldn’t have been one of the three guys involved in the sweep, but the look on Farren’s face suggested she might suspect Jess of having something to do with the sudden attraction Unity girls felt towards knights in general. Unnoticed by her companion, Farren shook her head at Jess, her expression tight. Jess quickly looked away, getting a twinge of something.
At that moment, a stocky guy with curly hair and a blue face blocked Blondie’s path, addressing him as ‘Killer’ and telling him it was the Paddington Tavern for afters, acting like he couldn’t see Jess, tucked under Blondie’s arm. He probably thought he was being subtle. And Blondie played right along: widening his stance as if experiencing a sudden and significant surge in ball size, speaking in the drawl used by guys who are fluent in Brah.
