The Wrong Move

by Jennifer Savin

  Her first kiss with Zach was beyond the realms of anything Lauren had ever felt before. It was hungry, passionate. She’d clung onto his shirt in the middle of the club and couldn’t imagine ever letting go, so when he placed a small white pill on his tongue and gently slipped it onto hers, she let him. Her body had shuddered from head to toe. He was sharing a secret with her and she wanted more than anything to keep it. She already adored him.

  At first Lauren had no idea what she’d taken, until a slow, tingling sensation crept through her body, like the relief that accompanies a yawn. Her worries and feelings of inadequacy sweated out of her skin and were absorbed into the sticky ground below. She felt the beat of the bassline vibrating the roof of her mouth, the driving need to continue dancing, even though she couldn’t feel her toes. Lust for Zach, the pulsing crowd around her … it all knitted together as though she were seeing the world clearly for the first time. For once, she didn’t want to live her life through her Georgia. She wanted to follow Zach to the ends of the earth – and that night, he let her. She let him.

  After that experience, Lauren found herself craving the same high, from both Zach and the drugs – which, it turned out, he sold all over the city. She laughed when he pulled the shoebox out from underneath his bed where he kept a stash hidden, but secretly felt a flash of panic.

  ‘You’re cool with it, aren’t you?’ he asked, not bothered about the answer.

  Of course Lauren had smiled and said it was fine. Whatever Zach wanted to do, she supported. Her happiness quickly started to depend on his presence; when he took too long to reply to her continuous stream of texts, Lauren bit all her nails down to tiny stubs and snapped at Georgia until he reappeared, always full of stories about losing his phone. Then, she’d float right back up again.

  ‘You know you’re my girl, right?’ Zach would whisper. And with that, her resolve to be angry would wash away.

  That summer was one of the hottest on record, comprised of stifling days and late-night claps of thunder. Lauren would lie awake, listening to the rain and Zach softly snoring, watching his chest rise and fall in the gloomy half-light, tracing it gently with her fingertips. Why sleep when she could spend hours reliving the way it felt when he pushed himself inside her? She loved the noises he made. Those small, whimpering sounds that forced their way out from beneath his aloof exterior and into her ear. They were so perfect together. It didn’t scare her how quickly she’d become attached to this man in her bed, who told her everything and nothing about his life. Looking back, she wished it had.

  At the time, Lauren had believed that buying drugs from Zach was a double win. Not only would it show him that she suited his lifestyle perfectly, but she could also prove to Georgia and all of their friends – a party-heavy group including Beth, their flatmate, who shovelled all of her tip-jar money either up her nose or down her throat – that she was fun too. It was always Georgia who wanted to stay up with everyone until five in the morning, having deep and meaningful conversations or dancing on coffee tables, while Lauren preferred to watch the scenes unfurl from the corner of a sofa, like a surveillance camera with drooping eyelids. She had never really wanted to be involved with the clear bags of white powder or pills until she met Zach. She’d drink the right amount to feel tipsy and take the edge off, but never enough to lose control, hating the thought of not being able to react quickly enough should anything go wrong.

  That Saturday, when she decided that she’d be the one to buy drugs, Zach answered quickly and said he’d only charge her £40 for the stock. ‘Mates’ rates,’ he’d called it, filling Lauren with abject horror. She didn’t want to be ‘mates’. She loved him and was certain that they could stick the broken parts of one another back together, if only Zach would let her. He rode over to Maver Place on his bike and stayed only a few minutes, which added to her anxiety, before mumbling about having somewhere else to be and pecking Lauren on the cheek. She closed the front door feeling like her insides had been ripped out, holding the bag of pills tightly, before telling herself to get it together and enjoy spending the night with Georgia for a change. No matter that her hands were shaking

  Georgia had offered to braid Lauren’s hair for the party that evening, the way she used to when they were teenagers. It was one thing guaranteed to soothe Lauren, and it had been utter bliss, resting her head in Georgia’s lap and listening to all their favourite songs from a tinny laptop speaker.

  At least she always had her sister, together forever, just the two of them.

  Lauren and Georgia arrived at the party arm in arm, swigging on own-brand vodka and dissolving into fits of laughter. Lauren hugged Beth, who stroked her hair and told her how pretty it looked.

  ‘Georgia, you’ll have to teach me how to do it tomorrow when we get home,’ Beth had begged, raising a plastic cup to the night ahead, powder lining her nose.

  Zach was in the corner drinking a beer. Lauren knew instantly that he’d seen her, but with Georgia back by her side, was able to hold off from making the first move. He could come to her tonight. She dragged Georgia to the bathroom, bolted the door and sat on the edge of the bath as her twin used the toilet.

  ‘Can we do the pills together then?’ Georgia had asked, popping her leotard shut again. ‘Just me and you.’

  She emptied the toothbrushes out from a glass by the side of the sink, then filled it with water. There was that hit of pride that Lauren had been waiting for, the seal of approval. She placed two tiny pink circles onto Georgia’s palm, then watched as she tipped her head back and dropped them in.

  ‘Your turn,’ Georgia ordered, taking a pill out of the plastic bag for Lauren.

  As Lauren drew the pill towards her lips, a banging started up on the bathroom door. Georgia banged back.

  ‘Calm down, can’t a girl wee in peace around here?’ She gave a throaty laugh.

  Lauren remembered how she’d bent over the sink and ran the tap into her mouth, but still, the pill sat dissolving on her tongue. She even struggled to swallow paracetamol. When Georgia turned around to bang on the door again, she spat it out and let it disappear down the plughole.

  Reliving that summer now made Lauren cry out with pain into the empty kitchen. Her mind still hadn’t recovered. It kept telling her to do awful things – to do whatever it took to keep Jessie close to her – unable to cope with another loss. Lauren stood up from the kitchen table and moved outside to the balcony. How could – no, how dare – Jessie think it was okay to up and leave like this? And without so much as a goodbye. She wouldn’t let her go without a fight. Lauren pulled out her phone and dialled Jessie’s number again.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Back in Chesterbury, over a hundred miles away, the phone rang. Jessie ignored it. She stood in the dining room for a few minutes gathering her thoughts: her mum had taken the bus to work, meaning the car was free for her to drive back to Brighton that afternoon. The police didn’t need her until five, plenty of time to tie up all her loose ends and collect the essentials from Maver Place beforehand. The majority of her clothes would fit in the boot and across the backseat, along with her laptop and jewellery. They were all she really needed to take from the flat. Jessie glanced at the clock on the bookcase, a gilded gold thing that her parents had been gifted as a wedding present. Almost one. She pulled up Sofie’s number.

  ‘Jessie, hey? How are you, I’ve been worried. Lauren keeps asking if I know where you are.’

  Jessie bit her lower lip.

  ‘I’m so sorry to do this to you, Sofe, but I have to move out. I promise I won’t leave you high and dry with the bills like Magda, but I’m coming to collect my stuff today, then moving home for a while. Please don’t tell the others, I’m only telling you because I trust you, and I want you to know that I won’t leave you all in the lurch.’

  The words fell out of Jessie’s mouth freely. This was the right thing to do, Sofie would understand.

  ‘Are you in the flat at the moment? I was hoping to drop in and pick up some
of my things in a few hours.’

  ‘Oh, gosh. No, I’m at Henry’s and leaving for work shortly, but I have your new key here. I’ll drop it into Happy Homes on my way.’

  Sofie was quiet for a few seconds.

  ‘I’ll miss living with you, Jessie. I hope that we can stay in touch?’

  She was such a sweetheart; none of this had been her fault.

  ‘Of course, Sofe. Definitely.’

  It was Jessie’s turn to pause.

  ‘Lauren’s not going to be in, is she?’

  Once Sofie had confirmed that everybody would be out, Jessie called Priya to ask if she could meet her at the flat later on for moral support.

  ‘I’ll chat to my boss about leaving early, but it should be fine,’ Priya said, grateful that Jessie had called her before going in there alone – that Lauren sounded unhinged.

  Jessie programmed the sat nav to direct her back to 4 Maver Place for the final time. Her shoulders stayed tense throughout the entire journey. In a way, the thought of not saying a proper goodbye to Lauren was still gutting, given that they’d spent so much time together over the last few months. It was almost like a break-up. But she had to start putting herself first, to surround herself with people that wouldn’t interfere with her own healing, people who were honest. Pulling up outside the flat just after four, Jessie sat and listened to the engine tick with heat. The phone rang.

  ‘My last client meeting ran over, I’m so sorry. I’m on my way now.’

  It was Priya.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ she replied, before noticing the clock on the dashboard. ‘The only thing is I need to be at the police station for five, which doesn’t leave me much time to get packing. I might head in and make a start. Sofie said Lauren would be out anyway.’

  Priya promised she’d be there soon, so Jessie mounted the front steps and put her ear to the door, to double-check. She couldn’t hear anybody inside. Turning her key in the lock, she exhaled with relief upon finding the flat, as Sofie had promised it would be, completely still and silent, then headed to the kitchen for water. It still gave her the creeps, ever since seeing Beth ransacking it. Sipping the water, Jessie looked around the room and made a quick checklist of what to take from it. Some Tupperware boxes might be a good idea. No doubt she’d end up in another stale office job for a while, as she saved up for travelling. Bringing in lunch would help. She crouched down and began looking in a cupboard, hating having her back to the doorway.

  Lauren crept down the corridor, deliberately quietly, not wanting to scare away her prey.

  ‘What are you doing here? I thought you’d gone home.’

  Jessie flinched; she hadn’t heard Lauren come in at all. She turned and looked up to face Lauren, finding her looking small and lost in a hooded sweater that was far too big for her, eyes bloodshot.

  ‘I’m just picking up a few bits before heading back to Chesterbury,’ she said, trying to her best to sound normal, rising to her feet.

  Lauren lurched forward and wrapped her arms around Jessie’s stiff body.

  ‘I was really worried about you, I’m so relieved that you came back. How is your mum?’

  The frenzy in her voice made Jessie shake herself free and back a few paces away, feeling behind her for the kitchen counter to lean against. Lauren looked worried and moved closer too, blocking her into a corner.

  ‘She’s okay, thanks. It was just a routine operation but I still want to be there to look after her,’ Jessie bluffed. ‘Make cups of tea, that sort of thing.’

  She silently willed Priya to hurry up. Where on earth was she? Although the heating was on, a chill was making its way through her bones.

  ‘Well, how long will you be gone for?’ Lauren asked urgently. ‘If it’s just a routine operation, can’t you just stay here?’

  Jessie shuffled awkwardly.

  ‘Please,’ she begged, grabbing Jessie’s hands and trying a new tactic. ‘I’ll miss you too much if you have to go home again.’

  The intensity with which she said it made Jessie instantly uncomfortable. She looked Lauren square in the eyes.

  ‘Really, you’re all I have.’

  Lauren broke into big, gulping sobs and pulled the drawstrings of the hood around her head, showing nails that had been completely bitten down into bloody stumps. It was time Jessie knew what lay beneath her usually cool exterior. That was what real best friends did, they saw the murky and the ugly sides too. The frightening sides. She needed to come clean, about everything she’d done, all that she’d been hiding. All of it.

  ‘It’s more than Magda that I’m upset about.’

  Jessie held her breath and waited for Lauren to continue, wishing she could move out of the corner she’d been backed into.

  ‘Everybody I love always leaves. It’s not fair, Jessie, it’s really not.’

  She looked at Jessie, whose face gave nothing away.

  ‘I’ve never spoken to you about this, but I had a sister named Georgia, a twin, who died almost four years ago from an overdose.’

  Lauren became aware of the sound of her own breath; her body and mind were drifting apart again. She drew a badly rolled cigarette to her chapped mouth and clicked a lighter at the end of it with an unsteady hand.

  ‘I can feel her everywhere in this room, she’s always watching.’

  Jessie felt her throat constrict. Lauren could feel her dead sister in this room? She looked over Lauren’s shoulder towards the hallway. If she tried to run, what would happen?

  ‘Can we sit for a minute?’ Lauren asked, smoke flying from her mouth as she spoke.

  Lauren moved over to the round pine table, where the flatmates had all shared countless dinners, and banged on the empty chair beside her, until Jessie gingerly sat down. She had to admit, she did at least owe Lauren the chance to explain herself. Didn’t she? She prayed that Priya would ring the bell any second now, wishing she had back-up. The air in the room was lacking oxygen, too thick with smoke.

  ‘It’s my fault she’s dead.’

  Jessie remained silent, trying to absorb the hurricane of information she’d just found herself thrown into. What did Lauren mean it was her fault? She conjured images of pools of blood, the blade of a knife cutting through flesh. Surely Lauren couldn’t have done anything like that? She’d said it was an overdose? Looking at her now, she was in absolute hysterics over her twin. She couldn’t be capable of that. But her file on the database at work had said she was violent, a risk, a former inpatient at a psychiatric hospital. People didn’t get sent to those kinds of institutions for no reason.

  Lauren thought back to that night again, where her world had irreversibly changed.

  ‘Come here,’ Georgia had said, ushering Lauren into the garden when her feet began to hurt from dancing. ‘I need to tell you something.’

  They walked towards the very end of it, where the shrubbery was overgrown and wild.

  ‘I don’t even know where to begin with this.’

  Georgia was slurring her words, her eyes looking off-kilter. It annoyed Lauren, who despite pretending to be on a similar high, had in reality only drunk a few vodka and cokes. With Zach still not having even acknowledged her, her mood was fraught. The stupid pills were starting to burn a hole in her pocket and she wanted to throw them away. Nobody else had been interested in taking them, claiming they were ‘on the powder’ instead.

  ‘Marcus and I have found a new flat – we’re going to move out of Maver Place soon.’

  The sound of breaking glass came from the house, followed by a raucous cheer.

  ‘What are you talking about? You’re too wasted,’ Lauren snapped.

  Marcus, the weird guy they’d found on SpareRoom to help pay their rising rent had turned out to be the one boyfriend who wormed his way so far under Georgia’s skin that she was now wanting to move out. Lauren had never lived without Georgia before. They were meant to be together, always. What she was saying was all wrong.

  ‘I know you don’t like him,’ Georgia con
tinued, steadying herself on the fence. ‘But I love him, we understand each other. He teaches me new things about myself all the time.’

  Lauren spat on the floor in anger.

  ‘He’s just a boy, Georgia. Not even a particularly attractive one. In fact, he’s a bit of a fucking freak, if you ask me.’

  Georgia frowned, still swaying.

  ‘He’s made me realise that I’m a separate person, Lauren. That we are separate people, not just twins. There’s more to you as well, you know.’

  She was wrong about that too. So wrong.

  ‘You’re serious?’

  The twins locked eyes with one another, Georgia’s shone apologetically. Lauren dug her nails deliberately hard into Georgia’s forearm.

  ‘You can’t do this,’ she wailed, an internal fire blazing. ‘You just can’t.’

  She wanted to lash out, like she used to at the other children in their class at school. The teachers who had attempted to split them up. The people who hadn’t understood her. Why wasn’t Georgia understanding her now? She was obviously too out of it and needed taking home. Her eyes kept rolling backwards.

  Lauren called a taxi, then shoved her sister roughly into the back of it, hissing at her to stop groaning in case the driver kicked them out. When the car pulled up outside Maver Place, she asked the driver to wait, then frogmarched Georgia upstairs. Her legs had turned to lead and she couldn’t manage the steps without help. Georgia mumbled urgent nonsense, trying to warn Lauren not to take any more of the pills, which had been cut with something that her system was struggling to process. But Lauren wasn’t interested. All she could think about was Zach and wanting to get back to where he was. To get blackout drunk, to show him how crazy he made her feel when he ignored her like this. Vodka, whisky, wine, all of it. She wanted to spout about how he’d broken her heart to all their mutual friends. Kiss someone she didn’t care about in front of him, even though it’d be as effective as climbing to the top of a mountain and shouting at him, hoping he’d hear her from the bottom. She slammed Georgia’s bedroom door and ran back into the taxi.