Falling Fast

by Sophie McKenzie

  Yes, I’d turned my soul inside out because of him. And yet somehow it wasn’t enough. I couldn’t be sure he loved me.

  Emmi swished over, her silky Juliet dress gleaming in the light that bled around the black felt curtains. She squatted down beside me.

  ‘Riv?’

  I looked up into her large, chocolatey eyes. She was frowning, but she still looked pretty – her sleek brown hair all soft and curling round her pointy little face. How could Flynn not fancy her?

  ‘I’m sure he loves you,’ she said. ‘Just as I’m certain he’s not interested in me. Alex says he’s never been like this about anyone.’

  ‘And how would Alex know?’ I said angrily. ‘It’s not like they’re best friends. Look what just happened backstage – they were practically fighting because Alex was jealous.’

  Emmi sighed. ‘It wasn’t so much he was jealous . . .’ She twisted her hair in her hand. ‘I mean, I know Alex isn’t exactly Mr Emotional Intelligence . . . on the other hand, there are some things he does incredibly well.’

  I rolled my eyes. ‘Please, Emmi, I don’t want to hear about your sex life again.’

  ‘I don’t mean that,’ she said. ‘I mean that Alex is straightforward and uncomplicated. I like that. No hidden depths. No sudden surprises. He just wanted to make sure Flynn knew he was, like, top dog or something . . . And . . . okay, so maybe he can be a bit heavy, but at least he doesn’t fly off the handle at the tiniest little thing.’

  I stared at her, my eyes narrowing. ‘You mean like Flynn does.’

  Emmi shrugged. ‘You gotta admit Flynn’s a weird guy, River. He’s not like other people. That not-drinking thing. Plus, he’s intense. He’s moody. He can be really rude and arrogant . . .’

  ‘He’s passionate,’ I spat, suddenly incensed. ‘And he’s loyal. He works so hard in ways you can’t even imagine and he feels things so deeply and . . .’ I stopped, confused by the grin that had spread across Emmi’s face. ‘What?’

  ‘If he isn’t madly in love with you, he should be,’ Emmi said. ‘D’you know how alike you two are?’

  I frowned. I’d always thought of Flynn as being like Emmi – clever and quick and charming.

  ‘Seriously.’ Emmi laughed. ‘If you could see your face. All red and angry and defending him. By the way, you must be due back on stage pretty soon, you’d better fix your . . .’

  ‘No.’ I was already up in the chair, my hands reaching for the big block of make-up.

  ‘Oh my God,’ I said, staring into the mirror. ‘Look at the state of me.’ My eyes were all puffy and my cheeks streaked with tear stains.

  Emmi and Grace both stood behind me. They exchanged knowing looks. Then Emmi folded her arms.

  ‘What exactly is it that you want, River?’

  I slapped on some foundation. ‘I want to know he loves me,’ I said steadily. ‘I want to know that he really, truly, deeply loves me.’

  ‘Why don’t you ask him?’ Grace said.

  I caught Emmi’s eye.

  ‘Because he’ll just tell me what he thinks I want to hear. And I need proof.’

  Grace wrinkled her nose. ‘But how can you get proof that someone loves you?’

  I smoothed out the make-up over my face and picked up some eyeshadow. Then I looked up at Emmi’s reflection in the mirror. I could tell she knew what I was thinking.

  I raised my eyebrows at her, asking the question.

  Will you do it?

  ‘I don’t fancy him, River,’ she said slowly. ‘And even if I did, I would never, ever . . .’

  ‘I know,’ I said to her reflection. ‘I believe you.’ And I did. It was clear to me now – Emmi had never been interested in Flynn.

  But that didn’t mean he wasn’t interested in her.

  ‘I know you wouldn’t go after Flynn,’ I said again, fixing Emmi with my gaze. ‘That’s why it’ll work.’

  23

  The first night of the play was a big success. I was so nervous I was nearly sick, but once I was on stage, actually speaking my lines, I started to relax and enjoy it.

  Flynn and Emmi were both brilliant, and everyone did better than in the rehearsals. Even James managed to make himself heard halfway down the hall.

  Doing it with you obviously gives him confidence,’ I whispered to Grace as we watched Act 3, Scene 1 from the wings.

  James as Mercutio and Alex as Tybalt drew their swords. Flynn was on stage too. I was only a metre or so away, backstage, but he had no idea I was standing there – all his focus was on his friends. On his lines.

  I watched him turning from one to the other, desperate to stop their fight.

  ‘Gentlemen, for shame, forbear this outrage!’

  The language was so old-fashioned – so ludicrous really – coming out of Flynn’s mouth. And yet he somehow managed to make it sound like what it meant: ‘Stop it, guys. You’re out of order.’

  Alex stabbed James and rushed off to the other side of the stage, where Emmi was standing, her lips moving as she went over her long speech that started the next scene.

  Then James staggered off stage – into Grace’s arms, in fact. She was already there, standing with me and waiting for her next cue.

  Flynn faced the audience alone. Guilty. Desperate. Angry. In love. Each emotion was there, flowing in and out of his face and his voice. He was totally commanding. Utterly convincing. I’d never seen him act this well.

  I looked across the stage to the wings, opposite. Emmi was watching Flynn too. Our eyes met. Up until that moment I hadn’t really thought I’d go through with our plan. But seeing Flynn’s performance here – as subtle and intense as his face – I knew that I had to do it. That I would never be sure of him, otherwise. He was just too good an actor for me to trust anything he said.

  Emmi raised her eyes. ‘Tonight?’ she mouthed.

  I shook my head. Mum and Dad were watching tonight – and would expect me to go home with them afterwards.

  ‘Friday,’ I mouthed back.

  We talked through the details later, during the start of Act 5, when Flynn was on stage and we weren’t.

  James Molloy was having a party after Friday night’s final performance. Grace knew his house and said there was a perfect place for us to carry out the plan – two adjoining office areas, all quiet and secluded.

  The plan itself was simple. Emmi was going to make out that she fancied Flynn, while I watched. If he tried to get off with her, I would know that being with me was just about sex. If he said no, I would know I’d been worrying about nothing.

  I would know that he loved me.

  The second night was as big a success as the first. Both audiences were full and appreciative – well, it was a big school and I guess parents always like watching their kids perform.

  I hated it, though. I watched Flynn and Emmi kiss seven times – jealousy twisting in my heart – and each time I counted it off on my fingers. Emmi had sworn that there was nothing in the kisses. Soon I would know for sure.

  Mr Nichols got tipsy on champagne in the second half and hugged me and Emmi as we trooped off stage after our curtain call.

  ‘You were brilliant,’ he rasped – his voice still hadn’t come back completely after all the shouting last week.

  Emmi went off to get changed and Mr Nichols offered me a rueful smile.

  ‘Don’t tell anyone, but I’m sorry I didn’t make you Juliet,’ he whispered. ‘She was good, but you’d have been better.’

  I shrugged, not knowing what to say. What did it matter now, anyway?

  I saw Flynn’s mum briefly after the show.

  ‘Now we can’t stop long, River. I had to swap my shift so I’m at work later, but wasn’t he grand? And weren’t you? You made me laugh with your huffing and puffing and forgetting and with poor Juliet desperate for news of your man.’

  She wanted to speak to Mr Nichols too, but Flynn hustled her away before she had a chance, stopping on his way to the exit only to extricate Siobhan from where she was standing, to
ngue-tied, in front of a small knot of admiring St Cletus’s sixth-formers.

  He got them outside, then darted back in to say goodbye to me.

  His face was flushed and shining from where he had scrubbed off his stage make-up in a hurry.

  ‘I’ll be back later,’ he breathed, dragging me into a corner. ‘I’m going off my head not seeing you.’

  I hugged him, feeling guilty that I was planning to trick him. Maybe it was mean of me. Maybe I should just ask him how he felt, like Grace had suggested.

  Flynn glanced over his shoulder. The hall was full of people milling about. No one was watching us. He pressed me back against the wall and kissed my neck. ‘Come back to mine, later, after the party,’ he whispered. ‘Yeah? Mum’ll be working a night shift and Caitlin and Siob are both staying over at friends’. I’ve sorted it.’ He pressed up against me and gave this little groan. ‘It’ll be after the play, then, like you said. Yeah, River? Yeah?’

  I could hear the lust catching at his throat. My guilt vanished. He was totally setting me up. All he was thinking about was having sex. He didn’t care about me. Whether it was really what I wanted. How I felt.

  ‘Sure.’ I forced a smile and pushed him away. ‘I’ll tell Mum I’m staying over at Emmi’s.’

  James Molloy’s party was fantastic. His parents had gone away for the weekend, leaving him and his brothers alone in this big detached house on the edge of town. Loads of people came. The whole of the cast, plus most of the people who’d helped backstage and lots of St Cletus sixth-formers. There were plenty of other girls too – some from our school, and others I didn’t recognise.

  Everyone was on a high. Music was pounding out, a fast bass vibrating under my feet – and there was loads to drink. Emmi was under strict instructions not to get off her face – I knew Flynn wouldn’t even speak to her if she was. She grumbled a bit, but agreed to keep to orange juice.

  ‘Only for half an hour, though,’ she said, glaring at me. ‘So you better get him into that room.’

  I nodded, then caught sight of Flynn watching me from across the room. He walked towards me, his eyes not flickering away for a second. My stomach flipped over – God, I wanted him so badly. For a few moments I completely forgot how cross I was about him setting me up for our first time tonight. How insecure I was about how he felt about me. All I could think about was him getting here and kissing and touching me. But when he drew up beside me he did neither. Instead, he leaned against the wall and took a gulp of his Coke.

  ‘Are you glad it’s over?’ he said.

  ‘The play?’ I shrugged. I didn’t know how I felt about it. The truth was it didn’t feel over. Not yet.

  I looked around the living room where we were standing. It was big – with three gigantic squishy sofas and a long, shiny wooden sideboard.

  ‘You had a nerve giving me all that rubbish about my house,’ I said lightly. ‘James’s place is twice the size.’

  Flynn grinned and drank some more, looking around at the people dancing and the couples already sprawled all over the sofas.

  ‘Believe me,’ he said, ‘I was far harder on James. Anyway . . .’ he raised his eyebrows, ‘. . . are you ready to leave yet?’

  I mock-glared at him. ‘We only just got here.’ I hesitated. ‘Still, okay . . . I left my bag in that little office room near the kitchen. Maybe, when we’ve finished our drinks, you could get it? Then we could go?’

  Flynn raised his plastic cup and drained it.

  ‘See you in a minute.’

  He loped off . I watched him cross the room. It took some time. People kept stopping him, congratulating him on his performance. Several girls touched his arm as he spoke to them.

  At last he was at the door. He disappeared.

  I darted over to Emmi. She was wrapped round Alex like a snake.

  ‘Emmi,’ I hissed.

  She disentangled herself and leaned over.

  ‘It’s time,’ I whispered.

  She turned back to Alex and made some excuse, then we sped out of the living room.

  We passed the first office. Through the half-open door I could just make out Flynn’s back. He was bent over, rummaging among a pile of coats for my bag. Which wasn’t, of course, actually there.

  Emmi gripped my hand. ‘Are you sure, Riv?’ she whispered.

  I nodded, then went next door, into the second, smaller office. I locked the door behind me, then crept over to the door between the two rooms. Grace had already been in there and left it open. It was just slightly ajar – giving enough space for me to peer through. The study I was in was dark. The one where Flynn was still searching for my bag was brightly lit.

  He was looking under the desk now, pulling out a heap of rucksacks, swearing under his breath.

  Emmi appeared in the other doorway.

  ‘Hey, Romeo,’ she drawled. ‘I was looking for you.’

  24

  Flynn spun round and stood up. He ran his hand self-consciously through his hair. ‘Hi,’ he said. ‘Have you seen River’s bag?’

  Emmi closed the door behind her.

  My mouth fell open as she sashayed towards him. I hadn’t really clocked what she was wearing before. She was in a pair of those spiky heels she’d bought a few weeks ago – her hips swinging in this short, flirty little dress. Her hair looked stunning. Her lips were all soft and pouty.

  How was he going to resist her?

  My stomach screwed up into a knot. Flynn was staring at her. They were both sideways on to me. I could see Flynn reading her face, looking bewildered. And Emmi, her eyes hard, slinking right up in front of him.

  ‘What are you doing, Emmi?’ Flynn said uncertainly.

  Emmi put her hand on his arm. She flicked back her hair. ‘I was looking for you,’ she said throatily. She glanced back at the shut door behind her. ‘I wanted to see you on your own.’

  I held my breath. Emmi was acting, I knew. But she was doing it far, far better than anything I’d seen her do on stage as Juliet. There was no way Flynn wouldn’t believe she was genuinely throwing herself at him. No way he could be unaware that all he had to do was lean forward and . . .’

  I clutched at the door frame that stood between us.

  Flynn frowned. ‘Why d’you want to see me? What’s going on?’

  Emmi sighed. She ran her hand up his arm, then rested her fingers round his neck. ‘Did you like kissing me?’ she said softly. ‘In the play?’

  I gripped the door frame more tightly. My knuckles shone white in the light coming from the next room. If Flynn had looked round, he would have seen my fingertips round the edge of the door. But he didn’t look round.

  He was only looking at Emmi.

  ‘I thought you were River’s friend,’ he said.

  Emmi shrugged. ‘River won’t know.’ She looked up at him slyly. Then she put her other hand round his waist. ‘No one will know.’

  I could see Flynn blinking. His face all confused and wary.

  It was going to happen in the next few seconds. Either he would pull away. Or he would lean forwards and . . .’

  What the hell was I doing?

  I burst through the door. ‘Hi,’ I said.

  Flynn jumped about a mile in the air. Emmi spun round.

  ‘River?’ she hissed.

  ‘Get out,’ I said.

  Emmi spread her hands in a gesture of absolute exasperation.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I said to her. ‘I shouldn’t have . . . I’m sorry.’

  She rolled her eyes at me, then turned and walked out of the room without a word.

  I stared down at the carpet. Flynn was just half a metre in front of me. I couldn’t look at him. My whole face was burning with shame.

  ‘River?’ He put his hands on my arms. I stared down at the carpet. A corner of the desk stood to my right, a jumble of rucksacks beneath it. On my left was the bottom shelf of a bookcase.

  In front of me were Flynn’s feet. His cheap trainers.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I whispered.


  I felt his hands fall from my arms. His feet took a step backwards.

  ‘What was all that?’ he said. ‘Why were you saying sorry to Emmi?’

  I looked up at him. His face registered shock. Confusion. And then his eyes hardened.

  ‘You knew what Emmi was doing, didn’t you?’ His face was like thunder. ‘Why?’

  I couldn’t speak. My heart was choking my throat.

  ‘Were you laughing at me?’ It was hardly more than a whisper. ‘Were you playing some game?’

  ‘No.’ I found my voice suddenly. ‘It was a test. I wanted to see if you’d go with Emmi. I . . . I . . . it was stupid. Okay?’

  Flynn took another step away from me. ‘A test?’ he said hoarsely. ‘A test of what?’

  ‘To see if you loved me,’ I said. My voice was shaking. My whole body was shaking. ‘Look. It was stupid. It was wrong. I stopped her before . . .’

  ‘You’re frigging right it was wrong,’ Flynn shouted. ‘I can’t believe you would . . . that you would test me. That you would get Emmi to . . . to . . . God, River. What is your problem?’

  I couldn’t look at him. I suddenly saw how I must seem to him – jealous and insecure and stupid.

  ‘And what does it prove, anyway?’ he yelled. ‘Me turning Emmi down – which I would have done – only proves I don’t fancy her. At least not enough to risk losing you over. How does that tell you I love you?’

  I shook my head. I could feel his eyes boring into me. My heart seemed to shrink away to dust. I’d blown it. I’d thrown it away.

  Flynn’s voice dropped to a whisper. ‘How could you not know that I love you? It’s there every time I look at you. Every time we touch each other. From the first moment I saw you.’ Flynn shook his head. ‘How could you not feel it?’

  He stared at me for a long moment then his whole face closed up.

  He strode over to the door.

  ‘Wait.’ I ran after him. ‘Please, Flynn,’ I sobbed. ‘I did feel it, sometimes, but you never said. Don’t you see? I mean, Emmi was Juliet. And any guy who turned down Emmi would have to be mad, or so into someone else that . . .’

  ‘How would you feel if I’d done that to you?’ Flynn’s eyes flashed angrily. He put his hand on the doorknob. ‘How would you feel if I’d got some guy to try it on with you, just to see what you did?’