by Sara Barnard
“You mean except me, Suze, and all my other friends you’ve met loads of times before?”
“I’ve got service on Saturday morning,” I said, referring to a compulsory Esther’s community-service initiative and feeling a jolt of relief for having come up with a legitimate excuse. “I can’t really turn up hungover.”
“So don’t drink.”
“Roz.” As if.
“Okay, okay. Are you sure? It’ll be fun. Plus, how do you think you’re going to get a boyfriend sitting at home?”
That’s the downside of telling your best friend everything. They remember it. “Maybe next time.”
“Are you okay? Are you pissed off?”
“No, it’s fine.” I’ll just watch TV with my parents.
“Hey, how about you come round to mine after school tomorrow while we get ready? We’ll order pizza, and we won’t be leaving till about nine, so . . .”
A pity invite.
“Um, maybe. I’ll think about it.”
“Think about it quickly. I’ve literally got about a minute left.”
Pity pizza versus TV with my parents.
“Okay, sure,” I said finally, already regretting it.
“Great, come here at about five. Hey, go with Suze! Her aunt is driving her, and I bet she’ll pick you up. I’ll tell her.”
“Wait—”
“Okay, time’s up. See you tomorrow! Bye!”
* * *
For all Rosie had said about them getting ready together, Suzanne was already dressed to the nines when she and her aunt Sarah picked me up. I was wearing a hoodie and black capris, and I eased into the back seat feeling foolish and plain.
“You look nice,” I said to her.
Suzanne turned in her seat and beamed at me, her fingers on the headrest. “Thanks!” The seat belt strained at her shoulder. “Did you change your mind yet?”
“Nope,” I said, feeling even worse. Had she thought I was going to? It hadn’t even occurred to me.
Sarah reached out and tapped Suzanne’s knee. “Can you sit properly? You’re making me nervous.”
“I’m fine,” Suzanne replied without moving. “I trust your driving skills.” She leaned further against the back of her seat, glancing around me. “Didn’t you bring any stuff?”
“What stuff?”
Her face fell. She looked genuinely disappointed. “Are you really not coming?”
“No,” I said awkwardly. “I’m just coming for the pizza.”
“Oh.” She looked confused. Obviously the idea that someone wouldn’t jump at the chance to go to a party full of strangers was alien to her. We were clearly never going to be friends.
“I don’t know anyone,” I said, feeling like I needed to explain myself. “Plus I’ve got service tomorrow.”
“Service? What’s that?”
“It’s a program that Esther’s runs,” I explained. “It’s like community service.”
She looked appalled. “And you have to do that every Saturday? Aren’t you allowed to have a life at that school?”
“Suzie,” Sarah said chidingly, but there was a laugh in her voice.
“It’s just one Saturday a month,” I said quickly. “But no, now you mention it.”
The car jolted to a stop at the traffic light, and Suzanne’s head jerked forward. “Ouch,” she said.
Sarah reached out her hand again and pushed her palm playfully against Suzanne’s face until she gave in and sat properly. For the last few minutes of the drive, I watched the back of Suzanne’s head. Her hair had been mussed slightly by Sarah’s fingers, causing blond wisps to escape from her high ponytail. Just below the ponytail, partially hidden by the thin straps of the top she was wearing, I could see a scar snaking from the back of her neck, curving toward her right shoulder.
“Call me tomorrow when you want me to pick you up,” Sarah said to Suzanne as we pulled up outside Rosie’s house.
“I’ll just get the bus,” Suzanne said lightly.
“No,” Sarah said, patient but firm. “Call me and I’ll pick you up.”
Suzanne made a face as if she was about to protest, then thought better of it. “Fine. But don’t blame me if I drag you away from something more exciting.”
“What’s more exciting than you?” Sarah asked teasingly. I wondered how old she was. Somewhere in her thirties maybe? Something about the way they talked to each other made me feel like they didn’t know each other that well, as if they were just practicing their niece and aunt roles. “Hey, have a good time, okay?” She reached into her pocket and produced a ten-pound note. “Emergency money. Which I expect back when I see you tomorrow.”
Suzanne pocketed the cash, turning in her seat to me. “Ready?”
“Thanks for the lift,” I said to Sarah, opening the car door.
“No problem. Nice to meet you, by the way.”
Unsure what to say to this, I smiled and nodded on my way out of the car. Suzanne swung her bag over her shoulder and looked expectantly at me. She was wearing tight dark jeans with a glittery cami top and heels. She could have passed for eighteen easily.
“You look amazing,” I couldn’t help saying, even though a second compliment really wasn’t necessary.
“Thanks!” she said again, unfazed. I started toward Rosie’s house and she followed.
“How did you learn to do your makeup like that?”
Suzanne shrugged. “YouTube videos? I just experiment a lot, really. It’s easy.”
It is not easy.
“I can show you,” Suzanne offered. “I used to do my friends’ makeup all the time.”
“Maybe,” I said vaguely.
Rosie was still wearing her school uniform when she opened the door to let us in. Skipping any greetings, she brandished a Papa John’s menu at us, beaming. “Mum says so long as we get a veggie supreme for her, we can have whatever we want.” She stopped waving the menu and looked at me. “You didn’t bring clothes?”
“I told you I’m not going out,” I said, trying to quash a rising irritation.
“I thought you might change your mind.” She jutted out her bottom lip in an exaggerated pout. Then she glanced at Suzanne. “Oh my God, I love that top. You both have to help me decide what to wear.”
The “both” was generous. It seemed unlikely to me that I’d have anything to offer in this area. Why would she ask me when Suzanne was right there? It would be like choosing an emu over a flamingo.
I was right. While Suzanne and Rosie played dress-up with Rosie’s entire wardrobe, I sat on the bed and fattened myself up on pizza, reading an old issue of Glamour magazine and contributing nothing but “hmmms.”
To her credit, though probably more to do with best-friend loyalties than my dazzling fashion sense, Rosie tried, pulling a sequined top out of the wardrobe and holding it up in my direction. “Do you think I can wear this again so soon after your birthday?”
“Sure,” I said. “It’s not like it’s the same people.”
“Good point. Jeans or a skirt?” She directed the question at Suzanne, who shrugged.
“What do you feel like?”
“Jeans.” Rosie said, as I’d known she would. She took a pair from the wardrobe shelf and shook them out. “Turn around, Suze. And just don’t look, Cads.”
Suzanne turned away obediently, met my gaze and made a ridiculous face. Despite myself, I laughed.
“You better not be laughing at me,” Rosie said over her shoulder. “Okay. What do you think?” She spread out her arms and leaned slightly so I could see the full outfit. Suzanne turned back around.
“Perfect,” she said, smiling.
Rosie looked at me hopefully. I gave her a thumbs-up. “Great!” She looked relieved. “I’m going to get shoes. Be right back.”
When she was gone, Suzanne sat carefully down on the bed next to me and took a slice of pizza. “What are you going to do tonight?”
Nothing. “I’m not sure,” I hedged, trying to think of an answer that wasn’
t pathetic. Oh, God, maybe I should just go. Maybe it would be better this time, now I was sixteen. Maybe . . . an image came into my head of me trailing awkwardly after Rosie, except this time she was giggling and talking to Suzanne, who was not trailing after anyone and was definitely not awkward. God, no. It wouldn’t be better. It would be even worse.
“You should come next time. When you don’t have your service thing the next day.” Her face was open and friendly, but I felt a surge of annoyance. Why did she get to be the one inviting me places? Shouldn’t it be the other way around?
“I definitely will,” I lied.
She smiled at me, but a jolt of paranoia stopped me smiling back. Had Rosie told her I didn’t like parties? Was she pitying me? Or worse, secretly laughing at me? Before I could say anything else, Rosie came back into the room, carrying a pair of glittery silver flats. “Do you think I should straighten my hair?”
“No,” I said. Rosie’s small, birdlike face needed all the volume it could get. When she straightened her curls it made her head look even smaller.
“It looks nice wavy,” Suzanne said. “Do you have any mousse?”
“Mum might,” Rosie said thoughtfully, fluffing up her hair in the mirror.
The two of them began an animated conversation about hairstyles and I zoned out, watching my best friend talk. Rosie was twirling a few dark strands around in her fingers speculatively and it occurred to me that the two of us rarely had conversations like this. Maybe she’d been missing it.
By the time they were ready to leave, Suzanne had put Rosie’s hair up into an elaborate plaited bun and done her makeup, transforming her into a completely different person. If she could work that kind of magic on me, maybe she was worth having around.
Later Rosie’s mother drove the three of us first to my house to drop me off. She kept catching my eye in the rearview mirror and smiling as Rosie and Suzanne giggled beside me, as if she could see right into my head.
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow?” Rosie said to me as we pulled up at my house.
“Sure,” I said. “Have fun!”
“You have fun too.” She grinned at me, her voice teasing.
“Ha ha,” I said, shutting the door.
Before they’d even driven away, Rosie had already turned back to Suzanne and they were both laughing. I looked at my house, sighed, and headed in for a fun night alone.
10:47: CADNAM OH MY GOD
10:49: What?
10:52: WHAT????
10:57: I LOVE YOU!!
10:59: OK. I love you too.
11:01: xxxxxxxxxxx
11:29: Suze thinnks you dont like herr
11:31: Of course I like her
11:32: Thats what i said!!!
12:19: Ommmggghh im a bit drunk
12:22: Yes you are.
12:36: shit mums comin and i cant find suze.
12:38: do u kno where she iss?
12:39: No
12:48: in the car goin home. found suze. SLEEPY.
12:50: Night night, talk to you tomorrow x
12:53: NIGHT x
When I woke up in the morning, I had five missed calls and three voicemails. Snuggling deeper into my pillow, I put my phone to my ear to listen.
“Caddddyyyy! Oh my God, why is your phone on silent, you LOSER? We want to talk to youuu! WAKE UP.”
“HI, it’s Suze. Rosie says wake up, wake up. HEY—maybe she’s waking up right now and she can’t call us back ’cause we’re on the phone. Maybe we should—”
“It’s us again!” Rosie’s voice. “We are just saying, ‘HELLO, SLEEPY,’ and ‘GOOD MORNING’ for when you wake up! LOVE YOU, night night night!”
I looked at my screen again after I’d finished listening. Just after nine a.m. I was pretty sure they’d both still be sleeping, but I rang Rosie anyway.
When it clicked through to voicemail, I put on my loudest, brightest voice. “Good MORNING. How is your HEAD? Hope you had fun! Call me later. And I love you too, even when you’re a drunken moron.”
At half past ten I arrived at Pathways, the assisted-living facility I’d never even heard of before I got it as my service assignment for the term. I spent most of my morning making tea for the real members of staff and watching the news. I left at lunchtime, my service timetable dutifully signed by the manager, who didn’t even know my name, and headed home, pulling out my phone and calling Rosie, who picked up on the second ring.
“Hey!” I said. “I’m done with service.”
“How did it go?”
“Oh, fine. How was last night? Is Suzanne still with you?”
“It was good. No, she left about an hour ago.”
“Did you have fun?”
“Yeah! More when we first got there and we were getting drunk and stuff. But she kind of disappeared after an hour or so. I still had fun though.”
“What do you mean, disappeared?” I stopped at the traffic lights, tapping the button with my fingers, watching the light change.
“She went off with Chris, this guy from the sixth form.”
“She left you on your own?”
“Oh no, I was with Lev and Maya.” Levina and Maya were, before Suzanne at least, Rosie’s closest friends from school. “And Ollie was hanging around a bit.”
“Oh, was he now?” I said, raising my eyebrows even though she couldn’t see me. “I hope you told him to get lost.”
There was a silence.
“Rosie!” I scolded.
“I’d had a lot to drink, okay?” she said, defensive. “And it was kind of nice to have him being all interested for once. Anyway, that’s not what I was going to tell you.”
“I think you getting with with your sort-of ex is worth talking about,” I said, stepping around an unnecessarily large baby carriage that a harassed-looking woman had pushed directly into my path.
“Oh please. He’s hardly an ex. When I have an ex worth talking about I hope I’ll have done more than kiss him. Anyway. When we were drinking, before she went with Chris, me and Suze talked a lot and she”—she paused dramatically—“has had sex.”
“Really?” I tried to figure out what I should do with my voice. Should I be surprised? Impressed? Was I either of these things?
“With more than one guy.”
“Wow,” I said, and then felt ridiculous. I sounded like a twelve-year-old.
“I know!” Rosie said, making me feel better. “I’m not sure she’d have told me if we hadn’t had tequila.”
“You had tequila?” I was surprised now. When we drank, it was usually wine coolers and fruit ciders, or syrupy sweet shots that tasted mostly of sugar. Hard liquor was still too much for me.
“Yes, and it was disgusting. I almost threw up.” She paused. “I actually kind of did. Anyway! She was a lot more chatty after that; usually she’s quite guarded.”
“Did she tell you why she lives with Sarah?” I asked.
“No, I didn’t ask.”
That would have been the first thing out of my mouth. “Why not?”
“Because we were talking about sex, Caddy!”
“All right, sorry. So, how many guys?”
“Two.”
“Oh, when you said more than one guy I thought you were going to say it was five or something.”
“No, she’s not like that.”
I thought of all the girls I knew who’d had sex. There were the girls at my school, like Olivia, who wore their skirts as short as humanly possible and snuck cigarettes outside the school gates and did everything they could to prove they weren’t private-girls’-school clichés, seemingly unaware they were ticking every clichéd box. I only knew two girls my age who weren’t virgins and didn’t fit that same mold: Allison, who’d been with her boyfriend, Sammy, for almost two years, and Chessy, my cousin, who was also in a long-term relationship.
“Did you get the losing-virginity story?” I asked, trying to decide which category Suzanne would fit into.
“No, we’re not that close, and she wasn’t
that drunk. She did say she’s never had a proper boyfriend though.”
I squinted into the empty space in front of me, trying to revise my categorizations to make them fit.
“I can hear you being judgmental,” Rosie said suddenly, and I had to laugh.
“I was just thinking about Chessy.”
“You don’t have to be ‘I-love-you-forever’ in love to have sex, you know,” Rosie said, her voice annoyingly preachy, as if this was something I didn’t already know. “Sometimes liking a guy is enough. And sometimes you just want to get it over with.”
“So Suzanne got it over with twice?” I snarked, surprising myself. Maybe I really was judgmental. Or jealous. I’d had to set myself a goal to even try to have sex, and she’d already been there done that with two different guys.
“Caddy! Don’t make me wish I hadn’t told you.”
“As if you wouldn’t tell me.” I laughed. “So, anyway.” It seemed like a good time to change the subject. “Where did you leave things with Ollie?”
“Nowhere, it was just a silly drunk thing. Hey, want to come over for dinner? Mum’s making enchiladas, and we can watch crappy TV.”
“I can’t tonight. Seeing my gran, remember?”
“Oh.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Mum wants to take me to a talk at the Dome. It’s on feminism. Want to come? There might be tickets left.”
“Um. No, thanks.” As far as I was concerned, I got enough of that at school. “I guess I’ll see you next weekend?”
“Okay.”
The disappointment in her voice was a relief. I hadn’t been entirely replaced yet.
6
DESPITE WHAT TARIN HAD SAID, Suzanne’s Novelty showed no signs of wearing off for Rosie over the next few weeks and, to make things worse, Rosie seemed to be trying her hardest to push the two of us into friendship. On one of my rare afternoons with no after-school clubs or activities to endure, Rosie suggested we play badminton, and then blindsided me by bringing Suzanne with her. And, just to make things worse, they were late.
As if bringing a third person along for what was most definitely a two-player game wasn’t bad enough, it turned out Suzanne couldn’t even play. Rosie seemed oblivious to my annoyance, but Suzanne caught on almost immediately.
