Toxic

by Nicci Cloke

  A while later, after dancing with Dev and JB on the packed floor, I’m too hot. My dress is stuck to me and my hair is plastered to the back of my neck, so I decide to slip out and get some air. It’s good timing too, because Dev’s just bumped into Rachel and Lucy, the girls from our hotel, at the bar, and now he and Zack are both desperately trying to impress them with increasingly ridiculous stories. So nobody notices when I step away for a minute.

  It’s not exactly cool outside either, but sitting on the metal steps leading up to the bar, there’s at least a bit of air moving around me. I’m feeling drunk but also buzzy and good – probably from the approximately fifteen kilos of sugar in every fishbowl.

  ‘Hey.’

  Logan has followed me outside and I wish, I wish, that that didn’t make my heart do a little flip-flop.

  ‘Can I join you?’

  I nod. ‘Yeah, course. I was just getting some air.’

  He sits down next to me and, just for a second, he leans against me, watching a group of girls pass with their arms thrown round each other, singing Beyoncé at the tops of their voices and totally unbothered that they’re not in time or in tune or getting the lyrics right.

  ‘I’m so drunk,’ he says, that goofy smile on again. ‘I swear, I’m never going back to Kings Lyme again.’

  I smile. People spill out all over the strip in front of us, the air full of laughing and singing – and even though there’s a smell of sick and beer and drains, it feels like freedom. It feels like school is a thing that happened ages ago and suddenly our whole lives are in front of us and we can do anything we want.

  And I know what both of us want.

  So when Logan turns his face to me, that smile still there, I lean in. Our eyes lock and mine close and I lean in for the kiss that has been coming all night.

  The kiss that doesn’t arrive.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  When I open my eyes, Logan is still looking at me. Staring at me.

  And the smile is gone now.

  ‘I THOUGHT …’ The words won’t come out, because suddenly I don’t know what I thought. I feel completely sober, like I’ve floated up out of my body and I’m looking down at the two of us standing here. I’m realising that this whole time Logan actually did think we were just friends – and that this whole time I’ve been kidding myself that we could be.

  I stand up. ‘Sorry. One fishbowl too many.’

  Logan winces. ‘Hope, don’t do that.’

  ‘Don’t do what?’

  ‘You don’t have to make excuses. I’m really sorry if I made you think something was going to happen.’ He stands up, looking totally gutted. ‘I’m all over the place tonight. Honestly, I’m really sorry.’

  I turn away, my face burning. This is humiliating. ‘It’s fine. Jesus. It’s no big deal.’

  ‘OK.’ Logan doesn’t look like it’s OK. ‘Look, Hope, I love that we’re hanging out again. I love having you in my life. But I’m –’

  ‘Yeah, yeah, you’re with Daisy, I know. Seriously, Logan, don’t cry about it – I was just having fun, it’s no. Big. Deal.’

  And I walk back into the bar as if any of that is true.

  It’s hard to concentrate on anything that happens after that. My thoughts fly around and bump into each other and all these feelings keep rushing through me – one minute I’m embarrassed and the next I’m sad, because Logan doesn’t see me that way any more. And then I’m angry because I swear it wasn’t just in my head – and then I remember him standing there on the steps and I’m embarrassed all over again.

  The only thing that will drown it all out is booze. That much is obvious.

  And so I drink. I buy another round of fishbowls and I drink one pretty much to myself. I buy a beer and then a vodka and then a bottle of something blue and sweet. I stand by the bar and drink, and when I finish my bottle and a guy standing at the bar asks if he can buy me another, I say yes.

  Later, when some other guy asks if he can buy me a shot, I say yes to that too.

  And when Zack comes over and tells me that they’re calling it a night – ‘Gotta save ourselves for tomorrow, Novak! Booze cuh-ruise, my little friend’ – I pull a pouty face. I say ‘I don’t want to go home yet! We’re on holiday!’ and I pretend not to see them all glancing at each other. I’m slurry and screechy and I do not care, because my plan has worked and I can’t even remember how it felt when I leaned in and Logan did not kiss me.

  ‘You know what, she’s right,’ Nate says suddenly, and I point at him and cheer.

  ‘I’m game for a few more,’ Dev says, and I give him a double point and a whoop. I have to keep moving around, because if I stop, the room spins a bit.

  Zack has a face like thunder but he tries to hide it. ‘I just think let’s be chill,’ he says. ‘It’s 2 a.m. already. Tomorrow’s going to be shit if everyone’s hanging out their arses. We’re only here for four days, and it’s blatantly gonna be the best one – I don’t want us to waste it.’

  Zack gets a long pantomime boo from me. People are starting to look.

  ‘Yeah, I think Zack’s right,’ Logan says, folding his arms. ‘C’mon. Let’s go get a KFC and go home.’

  I blow a long, fairly spitty raspberry and then turn to the bar. ‘A fishbowl, please!’ I yell at the nearest bartender, and then I turn round and say, ‘Cool, bye then,’ in the general direction of Zack and Logan. It’s quite hard to focus at this point, so I concentrate on watching the barman.

  By the time I turn back round with the fishbowl, Zack, JB and Logan have gone and Nate and Dev are leaning against the wall, talking to a group of girls.

  I go over, sloshing some of the fishbowl onto my feet with a little ‘Oops!’ Dev turns round as I plonk it onto the ledge beside him and immediately stuff a couple of straws into my mouth.

  ‘Wow,’ he says, laughing. ‘I love this wild side of you, Novak!’

  I don’t stop drinking to answer, just nudge a couple of straws in his direction. When I finally come up for air, half the fishbowl is gone.

  ‘Hi,’ I say, sticking my hand in the face of the girl closest to me. ‘I’m Hope.’

  ‘Naomi,’ she says, shaking it. ‘Having a good night?’

  ‘Yep!’ If I say it enough, it’ll probably start to be true. ‘You?’

  ‘Yeah.’ She leans closer. ‘It’s actually my birthday!’

  ‘Oh my God!’ I grab Dev’s arm and look around for Nate, who’s in deep conversation with one of the other girls. ‘Guys! Guys! It’s Naomi’s birthday! We need more fishbowls!’

  We end up in another bar after Rodeo, although I can’t remember how we got there or why we left. Dev has hooked up with one of Naomi’s friends, Jess (or it might be Jen, the music is quite loud and my memory is not working its hardest for me) and the two of them have decided to go for a walk on the beach. Naomi is holding my hand and asking me if I want some water, but I keep shaking my head and asking for a shot. Nobody seems to be listening to me, so I go to the bar and order one for myself.

  By the time, we get to our sixth bar of the night, I realise two things.

  One: I am going to be sick.

  Two: Right now.

  I RUN OUT of the bar and just about make it into an alleyway before three fishbowls, four beers, several blue drinks and too many shots make their way out of my mouth and splash onto the ground in front of me.

  I stand with my hands on my knees, acid burning my throat. Just when I think I’m done, another huge wave comes rushing out of me.

  And then I am done. I spit and straighten up, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

  ‘Nice.’

  I spin round. Nate is standing there, arms folded. ‘You OK?’

  I glare at him. ‘You know it’s not usually a good idea to follow a girl into a dark alleyway, right?’

  He holds up his hands. ‘Yeah, fair point. I just wanted to check you were all right. Come on, let’s go and get some water.’

  I follow him back onto the stri
p and to a little 24-hour minimarket thing, but the smell of the bars and the gutter makes my stomach lurch again.

  ‘Might just wait out here,’ I say to him, trying to breathe through my mouth and not lose the last of my stomach lining in front of the whole of Malia.

  Leaning against the shop front helps, the glass nice and cold against my back. At least things aren’t spinning any more – in fact, I think my hangover is kicking in already. My head is starting to pound, so when Nate appears with a litre of water, paracetamol, a loaf of bread and a bag of crisps, I want to hug him.

  Due to being splashed with sick, I refrain.

  ‘Come on,’ he says. ‘Dr Nate to the rescue.’

  ‘Don’t you want to go back and see those girls?’

  He frowns and shakes his head. ‘Nah. Not really into one-night things.’

  This is news to me. If Zack’s to be believed, Nate’s slept with more people than the entire cast of Geordie Shore.

  We reach a fork in the strip and Nate turns off and down a little slope towards the beach. That seems like a great plan – the music and the smell of the strip are too much for me right now – until we step onto the sand and see a couple genuinely shagging on a sun-lounger. Like properly going at it, her legs up in the air and his white bum bobbing in the darkness.

  I burst out laughing and they stop for a second and then just keep going.

  ‘Whatever floats your boat,’ Nate says, heading away from them and further down the beach. There are a couple of people walking and another couple kissing in the sea, but otherwise it’s pretty quiet. There’s no sign of Dev and Jess/Jen. Nate pulls a sun-lounger up for us in front of a deserted hotel bar and we sit on the edge of it. I accept the bottle of water from him. My mouth tastes truly horrific so first I sluice it out and spit – as daintily as I can manage, which is not very – into the sand beside me. Then I take a good gulp and another, and it feels amazing – so cold and clean.

  Nate has undone the bag of bread and he takes a slice, chucks in a few crisps and then folds it over into a makeshift sandwich and hands it to me.

  I look warily at it. My stomach is settled for now, but it’s still not happy with me.

  ‘Trust me,’ he says. ‘First mouthful will be like sand, but it’ll help.’

  ‘I usually prefer my crisp sandwiches with extra mayonnaise,’ I say. ‘Ideally salt-and-vinegar crisps with some Stilton in there.’

  Nate makes a fake gag face. ‘Seriously. You’re about to make me throw up.’

  I take a bite of the sandwich and, although my body still isn’t convinced eating is a good idea, I do start to feel better. The bread is that kind of crappy, chemical-filled stuff and really soft, and the crisps are extra salty. When I finish it, Nate makes me another one, and one for himself.

  ‘Thanks for staying out with me,’ I say.

  ‘S’OK. Wasn’t going to leave you with Dev.’

  I take another big glug of water.

  ‘You all right?’ Nate asks. ‘You’ve been acting kinda weird tonight.’

  Part of me wants to bite his head off – What, am I not allowed to have a good time?! – but I know that’s mostly because I’m embarrassed about earlier. And because it’s still there, itching under my skin, I end up telling him exactly what happened with Logan on the steps outside Rodeo. I don’t look at him as I say it, just at my feet burrowing into the sand.

  ‘… and that’s when I came inside and decided to get drunker than anyone’s ever been, ever.’

  I glance up at him, stuffing a big bite of crisp sandwich into my mouth in an attempt to make myself feel better.

  Nate looks at me for a second, a kind of baffled expression on his face. ‘I don’t get it. What’s the problem?’

  ‘Well, now I’ve made things really awkward.’

  ‘Hope, you still have feelings for someone you used to love. Sounds pretty normal to me. Don’t beat yourself up.’

  ‘Someone who has a girlfriend now.’

  ‘Well, yeah, maybe that bit doesn’t reflect all that well on you. But you’d had a drink, you made a mistake. And Logan’s not exactly innocent here. He does still flirt with you – I’m his mate and I’ve seen it.’

  Huh. Now I’m talking about it out loud, it doesn’t seem that bad. I mean, it’s still not fun to be rejected, but why should I beat myself up for putting myself out there?

  ‘Thanks, Nate.’ I take a handful of crisps. ‘We should head back to the apartment, I guess.’

  We walk back up the beach instead of going along the strip, just as the horizon starts to get lighter. We don’t see anyone else shagging, thankfully, although there’s a girl crying to another girl on a deckchair and a guy sleeping on a sun-lounger further down. As the sun comes up, people start wading into the sea, their faces and arms smudged with glow paint and stamps and stickers. The music from the strip thuds on and on and on.

  When we get back to the flat, everything’s quiet apart from the sound of Zack snoring. There are a couple of half-drunk bottles of beer on the coffee table, and a mug of tea, and JB has passed out on the sofa, which is a pretty standard JB manoeuvre.

  ‘Come on, Goldilocks,’ Nate says, heading over to him. ‘You’re in Daddy Bear’s bed.’

  But JB looks so peaceful, a cushion cuddled to his face, that I laugh. ‘Aww, leave him,’ I say. ‘You can sleep in his bed, in with me.’

  Nate shrugs. ‘Yeah all right.’ When we get to the bedroom door he grins at me. ‘You’re not gonna try and kiss me, are you, Novak?’

  I punch him in the back and then I go and collapse into bed. I’m asleep before Nate even turns the light off.

  AS SOON AS I wake up, I know it’s late. The sun is streaming through the open window and I can hear people splashing in the pool and laughing, bottles and glasses being clinked in the bar. I sit up, noticing with some relief that my hangover’s nowhere near as bad as I thought it would be. I glance over and Nate is still asleep, flat on his back with his head propped up against the headboard and his hands folded neatly over his bare stomach. A very toned stomach, I can’t help noticing. I look down at myself, still in the dress from last night – and still ever so slightly sick-splashed. Lovely.

  I get up and grab my towel from the floor. A shower is top of my priority list right now. I feel like once that’s out of the way, I might actually feel all right. And I tell myself – very sternly – that I’m not going to feel bad about the whole awkward Logan thing. I made a mistake, and that’s OK. I don’t have to feel embarrassed about it. I’m not going to let it ruin the holiday I spent all those Saturdays flipping burgers for.

  When I open the door, the others are all sitting there.

  Staring at me.

  ‘Morning,’ I say, bright and breezy. Not embarrassed. It’s not like anyone else knows what happened anyway, unless Logan’s turned into an utter dickhead overnight.

  ‘Moooorning,’ Dev says in a low voice, with a weird, sort of suppressed smile.

  Logan is staring at his phone with the kind of focus that makes me think he’d rather be looking anywhere but at me. And JB seems pretty awkward too, playing with the fringe on the edge of the cushion.

  ‘You guys OK?’ I ask.

  Zack puts down his mug of tea and smiles at me. ‘We’re fine, Hope-Dogg. We’re a bit surprised at the pair of you, yeah, but you know – what happens in Malia stays in Malia and all that.’

  Wait, what? Is he talking about me and Logan? Nothing actually happened – surely that’s not what they’re all being so weird about.

  ‘Where’s lover-boy?’ Dev asks with a wink. ‘Too embarrassed to face the music?’

  ‘What are you on about?’ I feel like I’ve woken up in a parallel universe or something.

  ‘We’re on about Nate, babe,’ Zack says, getting up and filling the kettle. ‘Or Judas, as I like to call him. Do you want a cup of tea?’

  ‘Nate?’ I actually laugh I’m so relieved. ‘Nothing happened between me and Nate! Are you for real?’

 
Zack does a big over-the-top shrug, like Whatever you say. ‘It’s just, you know, guy suddenly ends up in a room with a girl with the door closed …’

  ‘… And they go to sleep just like any other pair of friends?’ I say, folding my arms across my chest. I can’t believe this. ‘Like the exact same thing me and JB did the night before?’

  Zack turns back to the kettle, keeping his stupid smug Sure thing face on. ‘Just seems strange, babe. That’s all we’re saying.’

  ‘JB was asleep on the sofa!’ I say, starting to shout now. ‘What were we meant to do?’

  The kettle clicks off. Logan still hasn’t looked up from his phone. ‘Course, babe,’ Zack says, and I swear I could actually pour the contents of that kettle over his head I’m so mad. ‘I mean, Dev had found himself a kind hostess for the evening so his bed was empty and available …’

  Dev gives himself a little wolf-howl and then looks around for someone to high-five. JB reluctantly obliges.

  ‘… but whatever,’ Zack says, stirring in milk unbearably slowly. ‘Like I say, what happens in Malia stays in Malia. Right! Tea’s here. Best get a move on if you want a shower before the booze cruise. We’ve got to be at the dock in forty minutes.’

  I’m too frustrated, too furious, to even get any words out. So I just walk into the bathroom and stand under the lukewarm shower, absolutely steaming with rage.

  I know what they’re like. The more I try to deny it, the more they’ll rib me about it, especially Zack. Probably when Nate gets up and says the exact same thing as me, they’ll drop it – as if his word is somehow better than mine!

  I lather up my hair, hard, and the anger starts to fizz out of me. Maybe I’m overreacting? After all, this is how they talk to each other all the time – always teasing each other and going totally over the top. Telling Dev how he can’t get a girlfriend or telling Nate exactly how much they all want to do totally disgusting things to his mum. They all get a turn at being ribbed, and they all just accept it. That’s just how their friendship works, I guess. Maybe this is all just a part of me being one of the lads now. Part of the gang.