by Ruby Molloy
I’m not sure I’m ready for more, but I’m a glutton for punishment. “Go on.”
“He, uh ... Since you left for Liverpool he’s been seeing someone. An old hook-up of his called Amelia. She means nothing to him, they just kind of use each other. For sex, I mean,” she says, like I need clarification on that point.
“I think I’m gonna be sick.” I push away from the table and hold my stomach, breathing slowly.
“I’m sorry,” Frankie says, as if the whole damn mess is her fault. “Maybe if I’d said something sooner ...”
I take a few more slow breaths and look over to Frankie whose eyes are filled with concern. “Don’t you dare think any of this is your fault,” I tell her. “Boyd and I messed up, not you.”
I huff out a laugh. “It wasn’t only that I thought he was a player. Boyd’s a scary looking guy. Maybe that swayed me into comparing him with Liam. Maybe I shouldn’t have done that.”
Frankie sits forward and places her hands around her glass, her voice quiet when she asks, “Who’s Liam?”
Frankie and I know each other inside out. We share secrets and tell each other our thoughts. Not once have I mentioned Liam. She waits in silence, with Ella and Nora looking on, both of them curious as to what’s going on.
“He was my first boyfriend. He, uh, he was a bully, an emotional abuser. Controlled everything I did, from the clothes I wore, my friends, even my money. I was still at college, too stupid to realise what was happening until I was in over my head.”
“Not stupid,” says Nora. “Naive.”
“Naive, stupid, it doesn’t change the fact I let him control my life. Any time I stood up to him he’d shout me down or call me names, belittling me until I felt worthless. We were in a restaurant once with friends―his friends―and he started taunting me about my lipstick. Made me go to the bathroom and wash it off. I’ve never been so ashamed. He made me feel like trash. I decided I’d had enough. I tried to leave him a couple of days later. He, uh ...” I glance around, their expressions of empathy giving me the strength to carry on. “He broke my ribs, a couple of my fingers, and he, uh, he tried to strangle me.”
“Kayla ...” My name is a gasp on Frankie’s lips.
“It’s okay,” I rush on. “I didn’t go through what you went through. But I learned I can make poor choices in men. I mean, okay, Jono was nothing like Liam, but no-one can say he was a good choice, him being permanently stoned, sitting at home day and night, wasting his life. And then with Boyd, I kind of put him in the same bracket as Liam and ...” I cover my face with my hands. “Oh God, I’m starting to freak out because I think that might have been another dumb act on my part.”
“Hey.” Frankie touches my arm. “It’s okay. What you’ve been through, you were bound to be wary of Boyd. First time I met him he scared the crap out of me. Being wary, the way you were, I think it was an incredibly brave thing to do, looking after him. The nurses in the hospital sure were glad to see the back of him.”
I give a half-smile, glad I’m not the only one to have experienced that side of Boyd.
“But no disrespect, Kayla, but he’s not the only one who can be scary. You let that temper of yours go and you can be pretty scary yourself. Maybe you and Boyd were meant to be together.”
“He’s with Amy Lee―”
“Amelia.”
I wave my hand dismissively. “He’s with her now so all of this is retardant―”
“Redundant.”
“That’s what I said! It’s redundant. Boyd has Amelia, Amelia has Boyd, and I’m in Liverpool. Everybody’s happy.”
“Yeah, right,” says Ella, “I can see you’re over the frigging moon.”
Frankie smacks her dainty hand on the kitchen table. “I’m going to fix this. I’m sure Amelia is perfectly nice, but if Boyd truly wanted to be with her he’d have made that decision a long time ago.”
Nora intervenes. “Frankie, you can’t go interfering in other people’s lives.”
“Says who? If all I’m doing is making two people happy, what’s wrong with that?”
I realise it’s time to step in. “Look, I’m not sure what I want, okay? Finding a job is my top priority right now, not Boyd or what he may or may not be feeling for me, so please don’t get involved. Please?”
Her mouth gathers into a sulky pout. “If that’s what you want.”
“It is.”
“Well, okay then. I won’t interfere. Promise.”
Chapter Seven
Party Games
KAYLA
Summer has given way to autumn and I’m more than ready for the change in season, since summer this year was all about Boyd.
Liverpool was fun while it lasted; catching up with friends, working long shifts at Hardcore to cover my rent and saving a little cash. But I knew it was time to come home when the mist began settling over the park and the sunbathers gave way to acres of empty grass.
Also, I missed my friends. I missed the buzz of London.
I still think about Boyd and what might have been. And though my belly aches when I think of him, it’s not so painful anymore.
I’ve attended two interviews this week. One for a local museum, the other for an advertising company. It wasn’t exactly what I was looking for, but the job spec sounded intriguing. It’s a small start-up company looking for a Media Account Executive. Delta, the woman who interviewed me, is the Director and owner. She’s in her early thirties with corkscrew hair, topaz eyes and brown skin. She’s stunning and incredibly passionate about her company. By the end of the interview I felt like that job was mine already. Just walking through the office, feeling its vibe, it made me realise that maybe a job in a museum wasn’t for me after all.
When I explained this to Ella, Frankie and Nora their response was ‘duh’. I guess sometimes my friends can see clearer.
I got the job offer the same day and somehow managed to hike up their salary offer by an extra two thousand. I start a week on Monday. Luckily I have a new wardrobe courtesy of mum. We spent an entire Sunday clothes shopping in Liverpool ONE. So even though I’m going to Mason and Frankie’s party tonight, a party I know Boyd will be attending, I’m feeling good.
No, more than that, I’m feeling optimistic.
My life no longer sucks.
*****
My life sucks.
Boyd has arrived and he looks ... different. His hair is longer and he’s cast-free. He seems taller, more imposing, the changes confirming just how long I’ve been away. I hate that he seems unfamiliar. The ache in my belly returns and those weeks in Liverpool count for nothing.
The mere sight of him has my vodka sliding down the wrong tube. Frankie thumps me on the back and I glare at her, wondering how someone so petite can pack such a punch. I make the mistake of glancing back at Boyd. Amelia―I’m guessing it’s her―slides her hand into his back pocket.
She’s blonde. As in white-blonde. Her face is long and thin, horse-like even, though that description doesn’t convey her pretty she is. Wide-spaced eyes, thick lashes and ... okay, she’s more than pretty, she’s stunning. Of course. Boyd’s Boyd, after all.
She’s dressed in tight jeans and a black top with skinny straps. High heeled black courts lend her an added sexiness that’s just plain unnecessary. In the space of a few seconds I go from confident and outgoing, to a little girl who just wants to hide behind her mummy’s dress. Mum’s not here so I make do with Ella. I duck behind her and she glances over her shoulder, staring at me like I’m weird as hell.
“Uh, what are you doing?” She catches sight of Boyd walking by and her frown clears. “You do know you can’t hide behind me all night? And since when did you become a wallflower? Get back here before he sees you acting like the weirdo you are.”
Castigated, I rejoin the circle, though I keep my eyes peeled for Boyd.
“You can do this,” Ella tells me.
Boyd stays with his friends. He must know I’m here, but he doesn’t glance my way. I know this be
cause I watch. Often. Too often, apparently, because his girlfriend shoots me a warning look.
From there on in I make a concerted effort to have a good time and act like Boyd’s not here. It’s easier said than done. Aside from Tag, Boyd’s the tallest guy here. And while Mason’s apartment is enormous, it’s not big enough for me to lose sight of Boyd. He’s a permanent fixture in my peripheral vision and those stupid thoughts I had, that I might actually be over him, they come back to haunt me. He looks good. The longer hair suits him. The girls in the room think so too. They’re watching, shooting Amelia envious glances, some more covert than others.
I do my best to ignore him and focus on what’s going on around me. Vodka with a splash of Coke seems to help. I’m in the kitchen, pouring yet another drink, when Boyd comes in search of a fresh beer. Everyone’s involved in their own conversations so when Boyd walks up to me no-one pays attention. Well, apart from a couple of brown-haired girls who gaze at him with longing. Possibly in the exact same way that I was looking at him earlier.
Boyd nods and says, “Kayla”, as if he’s my superior.
I hate it.
I’m emotionally immature enough to play him at his own game. “Boyd.”
“Where’s Adam? No, wait, I forgot you moved onto the bearded guy. Where is he?” He’s not looking at me when he says this. He’s concentrating on uncapping his beer, taking a sip as if I’m merely a way of passing time.
I can feel my temper spiking, but I don’t want to be that girl tonight. I swallow down my need to retaliate and choose not to answer. It’s the safest option, one Boyd doesn’t take kindly to.
“Wow, there’s a first, you being silent.”
I know it’s time to leave when his hard green eyes finally make contact with mine. Bitterness and anger swirl in their depths. But, foolishly, I stay right where I am because it’s been weeks and being this close to him is everything.
“Your girlfriend’s watching,” I say.
I expect him to turn his head her way, but his gaze remains fixed on me. “So?”
“So she doesn’t look happy.”
His mouth twists into an unpleasant smile. “And you think that’s because of you?” He pauses and looks down at me as if I’m nothing. “You think you’re that goddamn special? You think she’s jealous?” He leans in a little, the move deliberately intimidating. “I mean, I guess you’re okay-looking, but she’s not exactly ugly and she was in my bed this morning. So I’d say jealousy is the last thing she’s feeling right now.”
My heartbeat slows, takes a rest for a beat or two before kicking up a notch. The image of him in bed with her, making love to her, races through my mind, stripping me of everything but that thought.
My silence seems to eat at Boyd and he can’t leave me alone. “You don’t look so good, Kayla. Maybe you should go home.
I raise my chin, but he’s already moving in for his next attack. “Back to Liverpool. That’s, what, two hundred miles? Enough distance that we don’t have to see each other again.”
He’s crowding me now, his body obscuring mine from everyone else in the kitchen. I’m about to push him away when I see something at the back of his eyes, something that keeps me where I am and has me acting like a bitch. My fingers reach for his t-shirt, balling it in my fist, pulling him closer until he has to brace himself against the worktop. “What’s your problem Boyd?” I pause so the tip of my tongue can run along my top lip. “You wishing it was me this morning, not your girlfriend?”
His reaction is minute, but explosive. He pulls away, his expression fierce and angry. “Fuck you!”
He’s gone in a flash, leaving me exposed to curious glances. I turn my back on them and fix my drink, spilling it over the worktop because my hands are trembling.
*****
“What are you doing?”
I jump, causing globules of vodka to run down the front of my dress. Nora is standing in the doorway, a glass of something in her hand.
“Jesus, Nora, don’t do that! You scared the shit out of me!”
“Why are you hiding away in Mason’s bedroom, drinking all by yourself?”
I shoot her a condescending look. “I’m not hiding, I’m taking a break. Parties bore me.”
“You’re hiding and you know it!”
“Am not!”
“Don’t mean to be rude, but you’re a bloody liar, Kayla. There’s an apartment full of gorgeous guys out there, the drink’s free and everyone’s dancing, so what is it exactly that’s boring you?”
I narrow my eyes. “Everything.”
“So it’s not the fact that Boyd’s out there dancing with Amelia?”
I scoff at her suggestion. “Boyd doesn’t bother me and neither does Amelia. I just wanted a break, that’s all.”
Nora bursts out laughing. “You’re such a liar!”
Ella’s face appears over Nora’s shoulder. “What’s going on?”
“Kayla’s hiding.”
“Oh my God, why does everyone think I’m hiding?”
“Uh, maybe because you are?” Nora says smartly.
“I don’t like his girlfriend,” I blurt out. “Every time I turn around she’s watching me, like I’m some kind of freak or something. And Boyd’s the complete opposite, like I’m not even here.” I jump to my feet. “You know what, I’m leaving.”
Frankie’s joined the group and their combined shouts have me dropping back to the bed.
“Don’t worry about Amelia,” says Frankie. “She’s just jealous.”
“Yeah, right. She’s with Boyd. Why would she be jealous?”
Frankie rolls her eyes. “Have you looked in the mirror lately? She knows you lived with Boyd and now she knows what you look like she’s scared she can’t compete.”
“I think it’s best if I go.”
Frankie exchanges glances with the other two and says, “Listen, if you go back out to the party we’ll stay with you for the rest of the night.”
I gaze round at them all, open-mouthed. “You’d do that for me?”
Frankie looks hurt. “Of course we would. You’re our friend.”
Ella, impatient now, grabs my hand. “Absolutely. Now get that curvy arse of yours out there.” She leads the way, heading straight into the mass of dancing bodies, Nora and Frankie at the rear, making sure I don’t escape.
On the other side of the room I see Boyd talking with Tag. Amelia’s leaning into Boyd as if she’ll fall down without his support. I position myself with my back to them and do my best to forget their existence. Frankie fetches a tray of shots and I grab two before anyone can stop me. I figure I need them more than anyone else. More shots come along later and I down those too. I’m in the kitchen grabbing a coke, because I don’t want to get obliterated, when I find my exit blocked by Amelia. I move to walk round her, but she blocks me again.
“Uh, what are you doing?” I give her attitude, placing a hand on my hip.
“You’re the one who looked after Jack,” she says, her eyes mean and spiteful as she gives me a once-over.
“That’s me,” I say flippantly. I don’t know what’s coming next, but I’m damn sure it’s not going to be pleasant.
“So now I’m looking after him,” she says, stabbing a pointy finger into her chest. “Don’t think I haven’t seen you looking his way all night. I’m telling you now, Jack’s mine so keep your grubby hands off him or you’ll pay.”
I balance on my toes and lean forwards. “Are you threatening me?”
“Yeah, I’m threatening you. Stay the fuck away!” She lets that sink in before spinning on her heels. That’s when I see her flaw. Her skinny little butt is non-existent.
Her words are circling inside my head, growing bigger, louder. Sober, I might have been able to shrug off her warning. Half-smashed, that’s not going to happen. I march towards Boyd, where Amelia is once again pressed up against his side. He does what he’s been doing all night. He ignores me. To gain his attention I poke at his chest with my index finger. It see
ms to do the trick. He stops talking to Tag and gazes down at me with an expression that’s not entirely friendly. “You want something?”
“Tell your girlfriend not to threaten me. Tell her I don’t want you, she’s free to have you, and if she comes near me again, I’ll kick her skinny arse into next week!”
I storm off, intending to rejoin Frankie and co, but a hand grasps my wrist and stops me mid flight.
“Not so fast.” Boyd pulls me into the hall, tightening his grip when I pull against him. “Quit pulling, Kayla.”
“Quit yourself!”
“What did she say to you?”
“Who, Amelia?”
His jaw flexes and he fixes me with his narrowed gaze. “Yeah, Amelia.”
“Told you already, Boyd.”
“Run it by me again.”
I roll my eyes, which is surprisingly easy to do considering how tipsy I am. “She blocked me off in the kitchen, said you were hers and told me to keep my grubby hands off you or else I’d pay.”
His mouth tightens and he rests a hand against the wall, close to my head. I can feel his heat, smell his aftershave. It triggers memories of us on his couch, his hands on me ...
“She shouldn’t have said that.”
“Uh, yeah!”
“You don’t have grubby hands,” he says, smart as you like.
“Ha ha, very funny, Boyd.” I duck under his arm and head back down the hall. His piercing whistle stops me in my tracks and I’m gullible enough to turn round.
“Come back here. I haven’t finished.”
Now, see, if I was that kind of girl I’d be a walkover. I give him the finger and grab another shot on my way back to the girls. I walk passed Amelia who’s clearly furious. I stare, daring her to say or do something.
Ella sees me coming and promptly pulls me back into the circle. “Where were you? We were about to send out a search party.”
“Boyd’s girlfriend was being a bitch. I let him know and told him to keep her away from me.”
“No way?! What did she do?”
We huddle together while I update them and when I’m done they turn to Amelia, as one, and shoot her a warning glance. I’d like to say she shrivels beneath their glances, but I guess she’s made of sterner stuff. Her chin rises and her mouth curls with scorn until she doesn’t so much resemble a horse, as a cat―the one that got the cream.
