Inside the club, it smells of stale sweat and Red Bull. ‘What Makes You Beautiful’ by One Direction is blasting through the speakers.
‘Kill me now,’ Annalise mutters, pretending to shoot herself in her head with her index and middle fingers.
‘Drinks?’ Harrison suggests.
En masse, the group heads for the crush at the bar. I tug on Lily’s arm.
‘I’m just going to the loo,’ I say.
‘OK. Come find us when you’re done.’
Even by usual manky club standards, the loos at Aphrodite’s are especially gross – doors hanging off their hinges and puddles on the floor. I squeeze into the farthest cubicle and have a wee, squatting so my bum doesn’t touch the seat. As I’m hovering, I get my phone out.
There are no more missed calls.
Not one.
I picture Ram and Jojo in the hotel room, sitting side by side on the bed, their fingers interlaced. They’re talking about serious stuff. Grown-up stuff that doesn’t concern me. The baby. Their baby. They don’t have time to come running after me – Frankie the silly drama queen. Well, good. Because I don’t want them to.
I open the cubicle door and make my way towards the sinks. The attendant, a woman with weary eyes, pumps liquid soap into my hand then passes me a paper towel to dry them with.
‘I’m really sorry, I don’t have any money,’ I say.
She tuts and wanders back to her stool by the door.
I can’t find Lily at the bar so I do a circuit of the club. Its name is reflected in the decor – fibreglass Greek-style pillars adorned with fake ivy – and the bar staff’s uniform – togas and plastic headdresses sprayed gold. It’s not especially big, just one long room with a sunken rectangular dance floor at one end, the bar and loos at the other, but it’s rammed with people my age, talking and dancing. I finally spot Lily and her mates at the far end of the dance floor, near the DJ booth, and make my way towards them, the bass line of ‘Call Me Maybe’ thumping through my body and making my ears ring as I squeeze through the dozens of sweaty bodies. When I arrive, they let out a rowdy cheer. I smile, stupidly grateful for these strangers who have adopted me for the evening. Lily pushes a plastic cup filled with dark liquid into my hand.
‘Got you a drink,’ she says.
‘You didn’t have to.’
She rolls her eyes. ‘I know. I just figured you might need one.’
I take a sip. It’s vodka and Coke. The Coke is flat, the vodka strong. I try to dance but it’s tricky with a drink in my hand, the contents sloshing over the side.
‘Oh, just down it!’ Lily says, laughing.
I do as I’m told, chugging the lot in three seconds flat. Lily and her friends cheer as I place the empty cup on the edge of the DJ booth and raise both my arms in the air in triumph.
I dance to song after song, yelling along with the lyrics I know, making up the ones I don’t. For all of Annalise’s complaints about the quality of the music, she’s dancing pretty hard too, twerking like there’s no tomorrow and tossing her blonde hair back and forth in time with the beat. Sweat pours down my face and neck and legs, my hair sticking to my forehead and upper back and cheeks. I must look a proper fright. I don’t care, though. All I want to do is forget, let the music take over. The alcohol helps. It makes me feel like as long as I just keep dancing, everything might just be OK.
At one point, another one of Lily’s friends, a skinny boy with a mop of bleached white hair presses a sticky shot glass into my hand.
‘I’m sorry,’ I shout over the throbbing music. ‘I can’t get you one back.’
‘It’s just a shot,’ he yells back. ‘I ordered one too many by accident.’
I take a sniff. It smells like liquorice. I hesitate. I don’t usually drink very much, and I never do shots. Despite my height, I’m a complete lightweight, and I know from experience that my line between tipsy and flat-out drunk is almost nonexistent.
I’ll just have this one, I decide. After that, I’ll stop.
I gulp it down. It’s horrible, burning the back of my throat.
‘Ugh, what was that?’ I ask the boy.
‘Sambuca,’ he says, grinning. ‘Why? Want another?’
I shake my head hard and he laughs.
The Sambuca takes effect a few songs later, making my head spin and turning my legs to jelly. Lily grabs my hand to steady me.
‘You OK?’ she asks.
‘Yeah, fine,’ I say, struggling to focus on her face properly.
‘You wanna sit down?’
‘Yeah, yeah, maybe.’
She takes my arm and leads me to an empty booth overlooking the dance floor. A laminated sign that says ‘reserved for Suzie’ is propped on the table. Lily chucks it aside and we sit down. The seating is plastic and sticks to the back of my thighs.
‘You OK?’ Lily asks again. ‘You’re not going to be sick, are you?’
I shake my head.
‘Wait here,’ she says. ‘I’ll get you some water.’
While she’s gone, I take out my phone. No missed calls, no messages. Nothing. I can’t believe they haven’t even tried to get in contact with me.
‘I thought you didn’t have any battery,’ Lily says on her return, a plastic pint glass of water in each hand.
She doesn’t sound annoyed or cross. More curious than anything.
I place the glowing phone face down on the seat next to me and reach for one of the waters, taking a big gulp.
‘What happened tonight?’ Lily asks, flopping down next to me. ‘Did you and your mates fall out or something?’
‘It’s complicated,’ I say.
‘Isn’t everything?’
‘No, but this really is.’
‘Go on then. Tell me. I’m good at complicated.’
I suppose I’ve got nothing to lose. Lily doesn’t know me. Or Jojo. Or Ram. Maybe it’ll be good to get someone else’s take on the whole stupid thing. Someone unbiased. Someone who won’t be swayed by Ram and Jojo’s squeaky-clean reputations.
‘What would you do,’ I ask slowly, ‘if you found out your ex-boyfriend and your best friend had had sex behind your back?’
‘Depends,’ Lily says. ‘How long had you and your boyfriend been broken up for when it happened?’
‘Two and a half months.’
‘And was it a long relationship?’
‘Seven months.’
‘And how did you find out? Did they tell you?’
‘Not exactly. I kind of figured it out for myself.’
‘Ouch.’
‘Yeah.’
‘Was it a one-off?’
‘Apparently …’
‘Did they say why they didn’t tell you?’
My spinning head stops me from answering right away. I put down the water and drop my head between my knees. I really shouldn’t have had that shot.
‘Kristin?’
Kristin? Who’s Kristin? Then I remember, I’m Kristin.
‘Yeah,’ I say.
‘Are you sure you’re not going to be sick?’
I nod and slowly sit back up.
‘Here, drink the rest of this.’
Lily hands me my water. Diligently, I take a sip.
‘This best friend,’ she says. ‘Have you been mates with her for long?’
‘Since Reception.’
‘And has she done anything like this before?’
‘No. I mean, I don’t think so …’
‘What you doing, bitches?’
I glance up as Annalise and one of the other girls (Farah? Zara? Sara?) plonk themselves opposite us.
‘Well?’ Annalise demands.
‘I’m counselling Kristin,’ Lily replies. She turns to me. ‘You don’t mind if I fill them in, do you?’
Before I have the chance to answer, she goes ahead and tells them about Ram and Jojo.
‘What a slut!’ Annalise exclaims.
‘Excuse me, what about him?’ Farah/Zara/Sara demands. ‘It takes two to tango, yo
u know.’
‘Yeah, but this girl is meant to be her best friend. Where’s the loyalty? Seriously, Kristin, you need to ditch this bitch.’
‘It’s not that straightforward,’ I say. ‘We’ve been friends for ever.’
‘Exactly. And how does she repay you? By shagging your ex.’
‘Plus,’ Lily chimes in, ‘it sounds like she only ’fessed up to that because she got found out. Who knows what other shady stuff she’s been up to behind your back.’
‘She’s not like that,’ I insist.
But Lily and her friends aren’t listening, continuing the debate like I’m not even in the room.
‘Lily’s right,’ Annalise is saying. ‘As if this is a one-off.’
‘It might be,’ Farah/Zara/Sara offers.
‘Bullshit!’ Annalise and Lily proclaim in unison.
They burst into giggles, high fiving one another.
‘You need to get real, Zara,’ Annalise says.
‘Yeah, try putting yourself in Kristin’s position,’ Lily adds. ‘Imagine how you’d feel if Annalise shagged Ryan and then lied about it.’
Zara hesitates.
‘See!’ Lily cries gleefully.
‘OK, maybe I’d be a bit mad,’ Zara admits.
‘No maybe about it. You’d want to tear Annalise’s hair out and you know it.’
But Annalise isn’t Jojo. Not by a long shot.
And this isn’t a hypothetical situation; this is my life.
And these girls aren’t my friends.
They don’t know me. Or Jojo. Or a single thing about our friendship. Suddenly I wish I’d never said anything.
‘OK, let’s turn the tables then,’ Annalise continues. ‘If you had sex with Jimbo behind my back, I wouldn’t speak to you again.’
‘What, ever?’ Zara asks, her eyes wide.
‘Never,’ Annalise confirms, folding her arms across her chest. ‘You’d be dead to me, Zara. Dead.’
‘I believe her too,’ Lily says, laughing.
I try to imagine a world in which I never speak to Jojo ever again. I picture us passing in the street and not saying a word, looking through each other like we’re a pair of ghosts.
Tears spring in my eyes.
But I can’t cry in front of these people. I refuse to.
I need to get out of here.
Now.
I wobble to my feet.
‘Where you going?’ Lily asks, frowning.
‘The loo,’ I reply.
‘You going to be sick?’
I shake my head, pull my bag over my shoulder and push my way through the crowds of people, back towards the bar area. Only instead of going to the loo, I head for the exit, staggering up the stairs and out into the street.
‘Night then,’ the bouncer calls after me.
I ignore him and turn left, back towards the high street. The wind is gathering, and I have to hold my dress down with both hands to stop it from flying up.
I reach into my bag for my phone so I can find out the time.
It’s not there.
I check again, turning everything out on the pavement.
No phone.
Shit.
‘Sorry, we’re not letting anyone else in,’ the bouncer says when I return to Aphrodite’s just a few minutes later.
‘But I was literally just here,’ I say. ‘Look.’ I thrust out my hand, but the palm tree has already been reduced to a grey smudge.
The bouncer gives me a sceptical look.
‘But I was,’ I yelp. ‘You said good night!’
‘Sorry, love. No admission after half one.’
‘But I need to get my phone. I left it in one of the booths. I’ll be straight in and out, I promise.’
‘Sorry, sweetheart, you’ll have to come back tomorrow.’
‘But I need it now!’
‘I’m sure you do, but those are the rules.’
‘Well, can you go get it for me, then?’ I ask desperately. ‘I can tell you exactly where it is.’
‘I don’t think so, darlin’. Look, ring up tomorrow. If you’re lucky, it’ll have been handed in.’
‘Seriously? That’s the best you can do?’
‘That’s the best I can do.’
‘Well, thanks a lot.’
He shrugs. ‘Just doing my job.’
I swear under my breath and wander back up the street. I take a left, then a right, then another right. I walk down street after street, each time thinking I must nearly be back at the hotel, each time winding up disappointed.
If only I had my phone. I could kill that stupid bouncer. But to do that I’d have to find my way back to the club and right now I have no idea what direction that is.
A drop of rain bounces off my scalp, making me flinch.
I look up at the sky. It’s thick with clouds, the moon nowhere in sight.
Another drop of rain. This time it gets me right in the eye. Then another. And another. And another.
Until it’s raining so hard I can barely see across the street.
Chapter 34
Jojo
‘Maybe we should try ringing her again before we do anything,’ Ram says as I gently guide Albie’s legs into the carrier.
I still can’t believe he’s here. In my hotel room. Standing just a metre or so away from me. I’ve spent the entire year trying to convince myself that New Year’s Eve was just a blip, a moment of madness masquerading as romance. To make doubly sure, I removed Ram’s number from my phone, unfollowed him on Instagram and steered clear of his usual haunts. Any time he wriggled his way into my thoughts, I shoved him back before he could take hold. On the rare occasions Frankie brought him up in conversation, I did my best to gloss over it, although the guilt often made my attempts to change the subject a little clumsy. Not that Frankie noticed. That was perhaps almost the worst part – her complete lack of suspicion.
To an extent, my approach worked. As the months went on, it got easier to separate myself from the events of New Year’s Eve. It helped that I had other things to focus on – school work, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, the Arts Academy audition. My focus shifted. The memory of New Year’s Eve became hazy. I dreamed of Ram sometimes and it’d leave me in a strange mood all day, wistful and sad, but I’d do my best not to dwell, to stop my mind from going back there, and by and large I succeeded.
It’s only now he’s standing in front of me I realize how pointless my efforts were. Nothing has changed.
After everything that’s happened, I still want him.
My stomach performs an involuntary somersault. I try to ignore it. I have to ignore it. Now is simply not the time for going down this road. I need to focus. I need to prioritize.
I need to talk to Frankie.
‘Why is she suddenly going to pick up now?’ I ask, trying not to meet Ram’s eye.
‘It’s at least worth a try. She’s had a bit of time to calm down.’
‘I don’t know …’
Frankie and I are best face to face. We always have been. I just need her in front of me. So I can explain, make her understand. Over the phone just isn’t going to cut it.
‘Maybe you should try from your phone,’ Ram suggests.
But just the thought of turning my phone on after all this time makes me want to be sick.
‘I can’t,’ I stammer.
‘How come?’ he asks.
‘No battery.’
‘OK, I’ll try then.’
Ram takes out his phone, scrolling to Frankie’s name.
I count the rings.
One, two, three, four, five …
The voicemail will kick in any second.
‘Hello?’ Ram says. ‘Frankie?’
My eyes widen. She’s answered?
‘Who is this please? Where’s Frankie?’ Ram asks. ‘Is she there?’
‘Put it on speaker,’ I say.
Ram does as I’ve asked.
It sounds like the call is coming from inside some sort of bar or nightclub.<
br />
‘Frankie?’ a girl’s voice says. ‘Who the hell is Frankie? This is Kristin’s phone.’
‘Kristin?’ Ram mouths at me, his forehead knotted in confusion. ‘Who’s Kristin?’
‘OK, Kristin then,’ I say, grabbing the phone from Ram and bringing it closer to my face. ‘Is she there?’
‘No, she’s chucking up in the loo.’
‘Is she OK?’ I ask.
‘How should I know? She’s been in there a while, though. Listen, who are you exactly?’
‘I’m her best friend,’ I say, my shoulders automatically rolling back. ‘Who are you?’
There’s a muffled silence on the other end of the line.
‘Have they hung up?’ Ram asks.
‘I don’t know. Hello? Hello? Is anyone there?’
After about ten seconds, the sound of the club or bar returns.
‘Hello?’ I repeat.
‘If you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave Kristin alone,’ the girl says.
‘What?’
‘You heard me. Slut.’ This time she does hang up.
Blinking, I hand the phone back to Ram.
‘What the fuck was that?’ he asks. ‘And who’s Kristin?’
‘Kristin is Frankie. It’s a stage name she came up with years ago. Kristin Winters.’
Kristin Winters and Amelia Wylde.
‘And who was that?’
‘I haven’t a clue. She didn’t sound very nice, though.’
‘No, she didn’t.’
I bite down on my lip. ‘We need to go get Frankie, Ram.’
‘But we don’t know where she is.’
‘There can’t be that many clubs or bars in walking distance that are still open at this time.’
‘Yeah, but we can’t just rock up at every late-night venue in town on the off-chance she’ll be there.’
‘Well, we can’t just stay here. She might be in trouble. You know she can’t handle her alcohol very well. What if she has an accident and hurts herself? Or someone takes advantage of her?’ Panic rises in my voice.
‘It’s OK,’ Ram says, the flicker of worry in his eyes betraying his confident delivery. ‘We’ll find her. I just don’t think hitting clubs at random is our best option here …’
I sit down on the bed and Google clubs and bars in Swindon. There are literally dozens of listings. Ram is right, it’d be like finding a needle in a haystack.
First Day of My Life Page 22
