So Talk to Me

by Marina Johnson

  I manage to reach the bin and I clasp my hands around the rim and hang my head and vomit what feels like the entire contents of my body into it. There’s a whimpering noise and after a while my brain works out that it’s me. I wipe a shaking hand across my mouth and almost vomit again at the fetid remnants of last night’s burger. Gross. I lay on the floor, exhausted, with my arms still wrapped tightly around Kevin the Minion when I hear a gentle tap at the door. I know it’ll be Dad, I can’t believe he’s waited this long to see why I’m not up.

  ‘Sweetheart?’ The door opens slowly and Dad tentatively pokes his head around it.

  ‘Oh, Dad.’ I burst into tears. ‘I’m dying.’

  Dad sits down on the floor next to me and rubs my back as I sob.

  ‘It’s okay sweetheart, it’s just a hangover, you’ll feel better by tomorrow.’

  ‘Aren’t you angry with me?’ I blubber through the snot and tears.

  ‘Well, I wish you hadn’t done it but I don’t think you’ll be in a hurry to do it again will you?’

  I wouldn’t have done it at all if I’d known there was alcohol in that fizzy drink. One drink surely wouldn’t make me so drunk, would it? No, of course it wouldn’t. I knew that coke tasted peculiar, Stacey must have spiked it when she was at the bar, no wonder it was so flat.

  I cry even louder and Dad puts his arm around me.

  ‘Come on, we’ve all been there, it’s not the end of the world. Get back into bed. Do you think you could eat a piece of toast?’

  ‘Don’t mention food!’ I wail.

  ‘Okay, okay.’ He gently pulls me to my feet as if I’m an invalid and guides me over to the bed and I flop onto the mattress and crawl underneath the duvet. Dad tucks me in and I hear him pick the bin up.

  ‘Have a good sleep and you’ll feel better.’

  ‘Dad?’

  ‘Yep?’

  ‘Sorry.’

  ✽✽✽

  I wake and the room in is darkness. I turn over gingerly to find that my headache has evolved into a rhythmic, steady, thump. I feel slightly better and manage to sit up without feeling sick. I have a raging thirst and surprisingly, I feel hungry too.

  I get out of bed and yank my dressing gown from the back of the door and pull it on. My legs feel wobbly and my head feels like it might fall off my neck and roll away but I manage to stagger down the stairs and into the lounge. Dad’s sitting watching the football but he jumps up when he sees me.

  ‘How are you feeling?’

  ‘Better,’ I say. ‘Just going to get a drink.’

  ‘No, you sit down, I’ll get it.’

  I sit down on the sofa and pull the furry throw from the sofa arm over me. Skipper is watching me from his normal spot by the fire and if I thought it was possible, I’d say he looks disgusted with me.

  I’m disgusted with me.

  Dad comes back in with a glass of water and hands it to me with two paracetamol. I gulp it down without stopping thinking that water never, ever tasted so good.

  ‘Toast?’ Dad asks hopefully.

  ‘Please.’

  He goes back out to the kitchen and I hear the sound of cupboards opening and plates clattering. Skipper walks hesitantly towards me and I put my hand out to him and he sniffs it, then gives it a hesitant lick.

  ‘Here you are.’ Dad comes in and thrusts a plate of toast at me. ‘I can do you more if you want it.’

  I’m suddenly starving and I bolt the toast down and follow it with another glass of water; I don’t think I’ll ever get rid of this thirst.

  ‘Do you want to talk about it?’

  I nod. ‘But first, tell me how I got home, I can’t even remember.’

  Dad sits down on the sofa next to me. ‘Your friend Biro rang me, said he thought I ought to come and pick you up because you weren’t feeling well.’

  ‘Oh God.’

  ‘When I got there you were asleep in the room at the back where the bands get changed, couldn’t get any sense out of you at all.’ I can see the worry on Dad’s face; how frightening it must have been for him.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Dad, really sorry.’ I think I’m going to cry again.

  ‘Look, don’t get upset. You’re alright and that’s the main thing, I’m just surprised that you drank alcohol – you always say you don’t even like the taste of it.’

  So I tell him about the alcopop thing and how I think Stacey probably spiked my drink. How dumb am I that I didn’t even notice? Dad looks more and more angry by the minute.

  ‘Think I’ll be ringing her parents and having a word about that young lady. And I’m surprised that Ellie hangs around with people like that.’

  ‘No, don’t, Dad. It won’t happen again because I won’t be so stupid and gullible. I just thought she was being friendly.’

  Dad looks a bit calmer.

  ‘Okay. Don’t know what’s up with these kids, why do they have to be so spiteful? I sat in your room watching you for hours, making sure you didn’t vomit and choke to death on it.’

  I look at him in shock.

  ‘I didn’t know what you’d drunk, or how much.’

  I shake my head, big mistake; brain shake.

  ‘Anyway, no harm done, lucky you’ve got a sensible friend in Biro.’

  If he’s still my friend.

  ‘Your phone’s been beeping away like mad. I put it on charge in the kitchen for you.’

  Oh God. I need more toast before I have the strength to look at my phone. Dad reads my mind.

  ‘Some more?’ He picks the plate up.

  ‘Please.’

  Dad goes out into the kitchen and I snuggle under the throw and wallow; a wet nose nudges my hand and I look down to see Skipper’s little face staring at me. I put my hand on his head and stroke his ears. I pull him up onto the sofa and nuzzle my face in his furry little neck.

  ‘You won’t let me down, will you Skip?’

  He gazes at me and sniffs the air.

  Rank. I bet I smell absolutely rank.

  An overwhelming feeling of disgust and shame swamps me and I fight back tears.

  No use crying now.

  ✽✽✽

  I put on clean pyjamas after my shower and wrap my dressing gown tightly around me. I’m feeling more human now. Before I got into the shower, I brushed my teeth and when I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror, I frightened myself. The mascara so skilfully applied by Auntie Bridget was all over my face and my hair was sticking up in tufts. I looked like a zombie.

  I comb my wet hair and rub some cream on my face; a bit better though my eyes look puffy. Probably all the blubbing.

  I open the window in my bedroom, it’s freezing out but I need to rid the room of the smell of vomit. My stomach churns just thinking about it. Kevin the waste bin is in back in his place, cleaned and washed by Dad and I notice he’s changed the sheets too.

  I sit down on the bed and prepare myself to look at my phone. Dad said it had been beeping and it’s all charged up but I haven’t looked at it. I’ve been deliberately putting it off.

  I pick it up carefully as if it might explode in my hands and tap the messages icon. There are four WhatsApp messages from Biro:

  You okay mate?

  You up yet?

  Ring me when you get up.

  You avoiding me?

  Surprisingly there’s also one from Ellie:

  Hi, hope you’re okay. Sorry about those cows last night, I had NOTHING to do with it. X

  It’s Ellie’s message that gets to me; it reminds of when we used to text all the time, when we were friends. I feel like crying again but stop myself. Crying won’t help.

  I can’t face speaking to Biro so I text him:

  Just got up, awful hangover (sad face emoji) feeling too ill to talk, see you tomoz.

  He replies almost instantly.

  How much did you have FFS? Have you seen FB yet?’

  Oh God.

  No, I’m not on FB.

  Biro replies: Forgot you’re a social medi
a retard. Will WhatsApp you the clip. You need to see it. It’s all over FB and someone’s even put it on YouTube.

  Seconds later a WhatsApp message comes through and a video starts to download. Thanks Biro. I thought you were my friend.

  Will look later, I message. Feeling ill so going to bed

  I take my dressing gown off and crawl underneath the duvet.

  Kill me now.

  Chapter 15

  Josie

  I thought about pretending to be ill and not going to college; stay at home and wallow in misery. But then I thought no, make an effort as Mum always used to say, face up to things, stop hiding and hoping everything will somehow magically disappear.

  Yeah, face up to things, says a little voice, as if; you haven’t even got the guts to watch the clip.

  Realistically, I can’t pretend to be ill forever so I might as well just get it over with. I’d studied myself in the bathroom mirror before I left home and spent ages practising my I’m not bothered expression. It was pathetic and I couldn’t even convince myself, so no one else is going to believe me.

  Dad drops me off in the college car park and as I wave goodbye to him, I look around to see who’s about. I usually get the bus but Dad offered as he’s working from home and honestly, I didn’t want to get on the bus in case there was someone on there who’d seen me on Facebook. I’m just delaying it, I know. I wish I could time travel and it was next year and all this was a distant memory.

  When I think things like that, I know how truly weird I am.

  I spot the familiar lanky figure of Biro ahead of me sauntering through the gates and I speed up and try to catch him up and shout his name.

  ‘Yo, mate.’ He turns and smiles and stops and waits for me. I’m surprised he doesn’t seem annoyed with me. I was sure he’d be seething.

  ‘Hiya.’ My face is hot and I realise I’m going to have to spend the entire day with a beetroot complexion.

  ‘Did you watch that clip I sent you?’ he says with a big grin.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Look,’ I stop and grab his arm. ‘I’m really sorry about Saturday, I’m sorry I ruined your gig and my only defence is that Shana spiked my drink. I’ll get you another gig, I promise, and I won’t ruin it next time.’ I just hope Dad can sweet talk his mate at the Vic again.

  Biro looks at me incredulously and then he starts to laugh, I mean really laugh, and I stand there watching him. Eventually he stops laughing and puts his arm around me and pulls me alongside him and we start walking again. I quicken my step to keep up with his lanky strides. I’m so relieved he’s still my friend although I could kill him for finding it so funny.

  ‘Mate,’ he says, as we walk through the college entrance, ‘You really need to watch the clip.’

  ✽✽✽

  Just my luck, the first class of the day and the Clackers are also in it. Biro went off to his class and said he’d see me later and when I asked him if he’d forgiven me, he got all mysterious and said I needed to watch the clip. I could hit him sometimes, why can’t he just put me out of my misery and tell me what an idiot I made of myself and we can move on and forget it. I’ll force him to tell me at lunchtime, at least I only have one class to get through this morning.

  I was drunk and I don’t remember a lot of things but I do remember getting up on stage and grabbing the microphone off a gobsmacked Biro. I remember demanding that the band play Wonderwall so I could sing it.

  Yeah, told you it was bad. Wonderwall? Really? A song from my Dad’s generation and I can’t even sing either. This is why I don’t want to look at it, I don’t need to see how bad it was, I know . No wonder Biro couldn’t stop laughing.

  The first thing I notice when I walk into class is Ellie sitting on her own; she’s at the opposite side of the room from Shana and Stacey. I look at her in surprise and she beckons me over. I walk over and I can feel Shana and Stacey’s eyes watching me.

  ‘Hi.’ I flop down in the chair next to Ellie.

  ‘Hi, are you okay?’

  ‘I’m okay.’

  ‘I was really worried about you, I messaged you but then wondered if you’d changed your number when I didn’t get a reply.’

  ‘Sorry I didn’t reply, was feeling a bit rough.’ I laugh nervously. I feel bad that I didn’t message her now. Am I going to spend the rest of my life feeling guilty for everything I do or don’t do? I think I am.

  ‘Just wanted you to know that I had nothing to do with it, nothing to do with them .’ She glares across the room at Shana and Stacey who are watching us with interest.

  ‘Aren’t you friends with them anymore?’

  ‘Friends?’ snorts Ellie. ‘They’re not friends, they’re bitches, don’t know why it’s taken me so long to see it. How is spiking someone’s drink even supposed to be funny? They can both fuck right off.’ She stares directly at them when she says it and I can see by their shocked faces that they’ve got the message.

  ‘Ellie...?’ I start to say but I never finish because the tutor comes in and starts handing out our marked essays from last week. I look over at Shana and Stacey expecting to see them laughing and sniggering at me but they’re not; they look subdued and can’t quite meet my eye. In spite of my misery I feel a little spark of happiness; Ellie and I are friends again.

  Ellie slides a note along the desk to me and I slide it under my essay but I’ve seen what it says and the little spark goes out; do you know you’re on YouTube?

  There’s no avoiding it. Man up Josie Sparkes, face the music.

  When the class ends and everyone files out of the door, I stay seated and Ellie stays too. I pick up the piece of paper.

  ‘Biro told me. I haven’t watched it. Too embarrassed.’

  ‘You haven’t watched it?’ Ellie looks at me in disbelief.

  ‘No. Can’t bear to.’ I will not cry.

  ‘But, Josie.’ Ellie is already pulling her mobile out of her bag. ‘You were amazing .’

  ✽✽✽

  I’ve watched it several times; I think amazing is an overstatement but it’s not the horror film I was expecting. I don’t look too bad considering I fell asleep in the changing room straight afterwards and I didn’t slur the words in spite of being absolutely mortal. My voice isn’t good, never has been, but it is in tune. But it’s not that, apparently, that’s amazing. It’s the attitude . The strutting, obnoxious, skinny little girl belting out Wonderwall on stage is nothing like me and I have no idea where that alter ego comes from. It must have been the alcohol that gave me that confidence – there must be a part of me that’s really like that and even though I’ve watched it over and over I still can’t believe it.

  I can’t believe the girl strutting around, shouting at the crowd and practically spitting the words out is me. Where did all that anger and passion come from? And why Wonderwall? I don’t even like the song. I knew all of the words too, Dad’s constant playing of it must have seared itself onto my brain. There’s no doubt the crowd liked it as everyone is singing along and I can almost taste the atmosphere from the clip. Biro is playing the keyboard and singing along and he looks ecstatic and Danny and Mogs are giving it their all too.

  ‘See? Told you it was amazing. I never knew you could sing like that.’

  ‘Nor did I.’

  It’s not just me on YouTube, someone filmed Tourists of Reality’s entire set and that is amazing; next time they play they’ll be queuing up to see them. I’m so relieved that I didn’t ruin it for them.

  ‘Are you going to the canteen for lunch?’ I stand up and hook my bag over my shoulder.

  Ellie’s face reddens. ‘Wasn’t going to bother. If I sit on my own those two cows will just come and sit with me and start the fat jokes.’

  ‘Sit with us,’ I say.

  ‘Won’t Biro mind?’

  ‘Course he won’t, any friend of mine is a friend of his.’

  Ellie’s face lights up. ‘Okay,’ she says, getting up and linking her arm through mine. ‘Lead on Sparky.’


  I laugh and it already feels like the last couple of years are melting away; Ellie always used to call me Sparky when we were best friends.

  I get the odd strange look or double take on the way to the canteen but I know now that I didn’t make a complete idiot of myself so I can live with it and I don’t hear anyone laughing so maybe I can even enjoy it a bit.

  Ellie and I join Biro who’s sitting at our usual table in the corner. He doesn’t look a bit surprised to see Ellie.

  ‘Hi Ellie, how’s it going?’ he asks with a smile.

  ‘All good,’ she says. Did she just blush slightly or did I imagine it?

  I sit down opposite Biro and tell him that I’ve seen the clip. He smiles a big cheesy grin from ear to ear.

  ‘Loads of hits on YouTube, it’s gone mental…had a phone call from the geezer at the Vic, he wants us to play again.’

  ‘He rang you ?’ I ask in disbelief.

  ‘Yep. He says he likes the idea of getting someone on stage out of the audience at the end of the set; thought it was a good idea, a bit different. He didn’t seem to know you were our manager.’ Biro looks puzzled.

  I decide to confess and tell him that it was Dad who got them the gig. Biro doesn’t seem the least bit bothered and I feel better for telling him, I’m not good at lying.

  ‘Got to say, Josie, thought I knew you but you surprised me. You’d give Liam Gallagher a run for his money.’ Biro stares at me and shakes his head.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Philistine. Anyway, you’ve got Ellie here to thank me for ringing your Dad. She came and told me what those two had done.’

  I look at Ellie in surprise.

  ‘I thought it was strange how you fell asleep straight after our set.’

  He stops talking and looks up as Shana and Stacey noisily make themselves known. They’re standing at the end of our table, trays in hand.