Sugar Secrets…& Revenge

by Mel Sparke

  Now he really was in love with Kerry.

  CHAPTER 8

  PARTY PARTY

  “Kerry, Sonja, all right? Come in… Nice dress, Sonny - I might just have to snog you later!”

  Matt froze, reminding himself that things weren’t back to normal with the girls and he couldn’t just joke around like he used to - not yet, anyway.

  “Sorry, Matt, no snogs from me,” retorted Sonja. “Remember how much trouble you got into last time you decided to snog a gorgeous blonde?”

  Chastised, Matt nodded and shut the door behind them.

  “Are the others here yet?” Sonja asked.

  From the noises coming from the basement it sounded as if the party was already in full swing. Maybe it’s a good sign, she thought.

  Matt nodded. “Yeah - the lads have been here for a while and Maya and, er, Cat arrived about five minutes ago. They’re in the loo, I think.”

  Sonja got on pretty well with Matt on the whole. He could be such a smoothie sometimes, you had to laugh at him.

  He was so cocky, it was sometimes hard to believe there was a human heart beating underneath that gorgeous exterior, but Sonja liked him none the less.

  And it occurred to her that maybe they’d all punished him enough over this little episode.

  “Sounds busy down there, Matt,” said Kerry, wriggling out of her jacket.

  As the girls made their way down the stairs into Matt’s famous den, they stopped to read the orange fluorescent graffiti emblazoned on the walls. There were pens dangling on strings from the ceiling so everyone could leave their Day-Glo messages.

  Matt had rigged up a new ultraviolet light so the words really showed up. It also gave everyone bluish-white eyes and teeth, and Sonja and Kerry turned to pull scary goblin faces at each other.

  “I like your top, Kez,” said Sonja, her face back to normal. “Where’d you get it from?”

  “Oh, urn, I just remembered about it when I was going round the shops - Mum got it for me a few weeks ago. It was a surprise to, er, thank me for babysitting Lewis so much recently…”

  “That’s funny, I could’ve sworn I saw that very shirt in the window of Jean’s Jeans…”

  “I don’t think so, Son. She, er, said she bought it the last time she was in the city. Maybe you saw something similar…”

  Kerry stared at Sonja as she headed off to fetch a bowl of tortilla chips. How did Sonja always manage to make her feel inferior?

  And why did Kerry let her? She knew she looked nice tonight.

  Well… perhaps not great by Sonja’s standards, but certainly a lot prettier than usual.

  Kerry really wanted to go the whole hog and be glasses free tonight, and now that they were safely inside, what could happen to her?

  She made up her mind. The glasses were coming off.

  Discreetly stashing the offending specs in her mini rucksack, Kerry was instantly plunged into Blursville. Everything around her became woolly and indistinct and Kerry suddenly felt a bit wobbly.

  Holding her hand against the wall to steady herself, she was relieved to hear a familiar voice behind her.

  “Kez! All right? You look nice - new shirt?”

  Ollie was wearing a bright yellow Scooby Doo T-shirt, green combats and very grubby trainers. But he looked good. Ollie always looked good somehow, whatever he threw on.

  “Elaine here?” she asked him, peering around for the familiar extensions and the glint of a nose ring.

  “Nah - she phoned to say she’s too skint to come over at the moment.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Ol…”

  “Sorry?” Ollie smiled quizzically at her. “Don’t be sorry! It’s only E! I’ll catch up with her some time.”

  A commotion on the stairs made them break off their conversation. It was Catrina - fresh from a make-up retouch - making her grand entrance. In the raunchiest dress ever invented.

  Her bleached blonde hair hung in film star ringlets and she’d apparently applied her make-up with a trowel.

  She looked pretty amazing, there was no denying it, but even Kerry in her short-sighted haze could see that Cat’s look was completely over the top. And so was her behaviour - just like old times.

  “Ollie! Come and look what I’ve written on the wall. Haaaah! It’s a bit rude, actually…” cackled Catrina, pretending to look ashamed.

  “Better go and see what she’s up to!” said Ollie, rolling his eyes.

  Suddenly launched back into the loneliness of Blursville, Kerry was relieved when Joe appeared at her side.

  “Kerry… er, d’you want a, um, peanut or something?”

  “No, I’m fine thanks, Joe,” she blinked at him.

  Joe shuffled a bit, wondering where to go from here. He cleared his throat and was about to try again when Sonja and Maya joined them.

  “Come on, Maya,” Sonja was saying, “even you have to admit that Cat’s not just putting on a brave face tonight.”

  “Hmm,” nodded Maya, watching Cat’s antics.

  Joe glanced over to the foot of the stairs to see what the girls were on about. Catrina was letting rip with another raucous cackle, one arm draped around Ollie, the other hand theatrically covering her cleavage as she shook with laughter.

  All the lads in the room had their eyes glued to her.

  Ollie, meanwhile, was chuffed to see Catrina in such good form.

  “I know I’m going to have a good time tonight, Ollie. ‘Specially with great mates like you around,” she smiled at him.

  Ollie hugged her.

  “Atta girl, Cat! Forget all about Matt - just stick with me and we’ll have a right laugh!”

  Well, thought Cat, if that’s not encouragement, I don’t know what is! Ollie Stanton, you are not going to know what’s hit you.

  CHAPTER 9

  CAT POUNCES

  As the party livened up and the dancing got going, Sonja and Kerry joined in. Kerry always hated those first few moments on the dance floor. Sonja, of course, was a supremely confident dancer; Kerry always took a while to warm up. She loved dancing, but she couldn’t help feeling self-conscious while her legs and hips jerked around as they struggled to find the rhythm.

  Six tracks on, Maya motioned the other two girls over and all three flopped into the newly vacated beanbags in the far corner of Matt’s den.

  “Ooh, this feels nice!” said Sonja, sinking back on the rustly cushions. “My shoes are killing me - I knew I should have worn my trainers!”

  “How’s Cat managing? Have you seen the size of her heels?” joked Maya.

  “We noticed all right,” nodded Sonja. “Speaking of Cat, have you seen her around?”

  “I saw her upstairs in the lounge a few minutes ago, giggling away with Ollie about something,” said Maya.

  “What’s she up to?” Kerry frowned. “She hasn’t left him for a minute all night!”

  “Yeah, we were watching her earlier when we lost you and Joe,” Sonja explained to Maya. “She was chasing Ollie all over the party and he was just laughing it off. He wasn’t exactly telling her where to go, although I bet he wants to. Probably too worried about hurting her feelings, knowing Ol.”

  “I think she’s on a mission,” sighed Maya. “You know, trying to show Matt how little she’s bothered about him. And Ollie’s the perfect person for her to party with.”

  The girls nodded. Maya was probably right. She usually was.

  “So, anyway, I meant to ask - any idea who wrote that obscene poem on Matt’s graffiti wall?”

  Sonja and Kerry groaned and said “Guess!” in unison.

  “And do we know if the graffiti artist has had any kind of proper apology from Matt yet?” Maya asked.

  “Not that we’ve heard. Maybe Joe’ll know. He’s over there, looking lost as usual,” said Sonja, pointing to where Joe was standing.

  In fact, lost was the last thing Joe was feeling. He was right where he wanted to be - in a spot where he could surreptitiously watch Kerry.

  “Hey, Joey, siddown!
” yelled Sonja, waving him over. “Wanna join our bitchy conversation? C’mon, tell us something funny…”

  As Joe sat down next to Kerry he blushed a deep shade of crimson. Kerry groaned inwardly. Everyone knew Joe was painfully shy and it was mean of Sonja to draw attention to him like this. It was almost like bullying him, especially when he was the last person in the world with the confidence to entertain all three of them.

  “Don’t worry, Joe - you don’t need to start dredging up knock-knock jokes,” said Kerry, smiling at him reassuringly. “We only wanted to ask if Matt’s got round to apologising to Cat yet.”

  “Not that I know of,” he shrugged, aiming his words at Kerry and Kerry alone. She always knew how to make him feel at his ease. That was one of the reasons he liked her so much.

  Encouraged, Joe leaned forward to say something else. But nothing came out. Then, in a flash of inspiration, he remembered some advice he’d read in a magazine: If you can’t think of anything to say, ask the person about herself…

  “That shirt… it’s… it suits you. Where’s it from?”

  Now it was Kerry’s turn to blush. She was desperate for Sonja not to start on about that stupid shirt again. Kerry knew she’d never ever hear the last of it.

  “Oh, this- this old thing. I’ve had it for ages,” Kerry said abruptly and turned away from him to Sonja and Maya. “Do you want a drink of anything? Coke, Maya?”

  Joe was aghast. What had he done wrong? Girls liked talking about their clothes, didn’t they? According to that magazine, he’d said exactly the right thing to start a conversation, yet Kerry had just changed the subject. He felt even more hopeless.

  “Er, I’ll come with you and give you a hand, if you like, Kerry… if that’s OK,” he blustered, trying to do something right.

  Kerry nodded. She was grateful for the company. She knew she was a hazard and bound to fall over or walk into something if left to her own myopic devices.

  Joe smiled and felt a bit happier. Being useful was good. Being useful was at least a start.

  Cat stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror and sighed. Her plan wasn’t working.

  She’d been flirting her heart out for three hours now and Ollie wasn’t getting the message at all. Part of the problem was of her own making, she knew. Like the boy who cried wolf, Cat had always flirted with Ollie, but it was just fun stuff that never meant anything. Now that it was supposed to mean something, she couldn’t blame Ollie for assuming she was just being her usual, full-on, flippant self.

  Even plying him with lager hadn’t helped. She’d figured that with a few beers inside him, his defences might come down and she could charm him into her arms more easily. But several bottles later (he hadn’t seemed to notice that every time Cat got him a drink, she didn’t get one for herself). Ollie wasn’t so much amorous as legless.

  She’d even dragged him away from the party downstairs and pulled him into the lounge for a bit of privacy, but Ollie seemed more interested in playing with Matt’s dad’s state-of-the-art TV than cuddling up on the sofa.

  “Come on. Cat,” she told her reflection, “you’ll never get a better chance to do this. You’ve got to think of something!”

  “Oi! ‘Urry up in there!” a male voice slurred from the other side of the door.

  “Shut it!” Cat yelled back. That’s what she hated about parties - the way lads who were potentially cute at the start of the night turned into drunken oafs by the end.

  Giving her hair a final tweak, Cat was about to head back to her own drunken oaf in the lounge when inspiration struck.

  She’d come up with Plan B: she was going to go for the sympathy vote.

  “Aw, great, you’re back. I just wanted to show you this - listen to the stereo speakers on this baby!” Ollie said over his shoulder, pointing the remote at the TV.

  Cat winced as the screech of a movie car chase belted out at ear-splitting volume.

  She shook herself and composed her features into a look of abject misery.

  “Oh, Ollie!” she said in a frail little voice.

  Ollie, slightly worse for wear, was transfixed by the widescreen picture in front of him.

  “Oh, Ollie!” Cat repeated.

  Her voice was still too feeble to be heard above the shooting that had now started. Cat sighed and walked in-between Ollie and the TV and tried again.

  “Oh, Ollie!”

  She looked the picture of misery. Ollie quickly fumbled with the remote and pressed the off button.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, full of concern.

  “Oh Ollie, it’s so awful! I can’t believe what Matt’s been saying…”

  “What? What’s he been saying?”

  “He’s been telling people I-, that I-, I slept with him!” she choked out. “It’s not true, Ollie!”

  Catrina started sobbing, her shoulders shaking.

  “He’s been what? Nah! Matt wouldn’t do that…”

  “Well, that’s not what I just heard!”

  Ollie was aghast. “Cat, calm down a minute. Are you sure about this? How do you know he’s been saying this stuff?”

  Between sobs and gulps, Catrina got her story out.

  “I was in the loo just now and I heard these two lads talking outside the door. They were going on about what a laugh Matt was, ‘specially that story about how he ‘got what he wanted’ from some girl before he dumped her. It was only when they started talking about the girl and how she was somewhere at the party that I suddenly realised they were describing me!”

  “Are you sure they were talking about you, Cat?” asked Ollie, finding it hard to believe Matt would be so callous.

  “Oh, yes - they said the one with the blonde hair and the sexy dress and the big…” Catrina didn’t finish the sentence, but glanced down at her chest.

  “Who were these guys, Cat?” asked Ollie.

  “I don’t know. I didn’t recognise their voices,” she sniffed and shook her head. “And I was too mortified to come out of the loo until I heard them move away.”

  “I just can’t understand why Matt’d do—”

  “He obviously just did it to hurt me - to get back at me for laying into him at your party! And spreading lies about having sex is the easiest way to hurt me, isn’t it?”

  “Aw, c’mere,” said Ollie, reaching out and pulling Cat into his arms protectively.

  Cat faked a few more sobs into his shoulder, while secretly congratulating herself on a successful scam. OK, so she hadn’t managed to get Ollie to fall for her, or at least snog her in front of Matt, but this would do nicely. Ollie (and soon Joe in tow) wouldn’t be able to forgive Matt for rubbishing a friend like that. No way.

  “Listen, Cat,” said Ollie, leaning back a little and gazing into her tear-filled eyes, “you’re a lovely girl and no one who cares about you will believe that stuff. I certainly don’t.”

  His arms wrapped comfortingly around her, his kind, sweet face only inches away, Cat was suddenly aware that Plan A might still be an option after all…

  Leaning imperceptibly towards Ollie, she heard him let out a tiny gasp of surprise just before her lips touched his.

  CHAPTER 10

  UH-OH…

  Ollie woke with a pounding headache and a gentle thumping on the arm from his dad.

  “Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty! You’ve got a date with your nan, remember?’

  “Wha-?” Ollie couldn’t even form words, his mouth felt so dry. His tongue seemed huge and was stuck uncomfortably to the roof of his mouth.

  “Nice pyjamas,” said his dad, nodding at the Scooby Doo T-shirt and combats that his son was still wearing.

  Ollie wiggled his toes under the duvet and realised he still had his trainers on too.

  “Here, your mum thought I should bring you up a cup of tea. Although why either of us should be nice to you after the racket you made coming in so late, I don’t know.”

  Ollie struggled up to a sitting position and noticed that his dad was grinning an
d holding a steaming mug. He lurched towards it and his dad laughed.

  “Ooh, you are in a state, aren’t you, mate? Better get yourself in that shower. We’re having Sunday lunch with your nan, in case you’d forgotten, and I don’t want her to be shocked by the state of her beloved grandson.”

  “Oh, Dad, couldn’t we—”

  “Don’t even start,” said Stuart Stanton, looking at his son with mock sternness. “No, we can’t make it another time because your nan’s made you a belated birthday cake ‘specially and, since your sister’s not around, it’s my job to see that at least one of her grandchildren turns up and says thank you nicely.”

  Ollie slurped his tea as if his life depended on it. Luckily, he got on pretty well with his dad so he knew he wasn’t in serious trouble over last night’s drunken behaviour, although he realised he’d better not make a habit of it.

  But more worrying than that were the fragmented memories that came drifting back bit by bit from the night before.

  Matt’s party… beer… him and Joe carrying boxes of CDs… Kerry’s glittery eye shadow… a very rude poem on the wall… Catrina giggling… dancing to Abba (Abba!)… more beer… Catrina crying… Catrina…

  “Omigod!” groaned Ollie and collapsed back on to his pillows.

  As the day wore on, OIlie started to feel seriously guilty.

  His nan fussed around him, all apologies for having had too bad a cold to make it to his party the previous week. To compensate, she’d made so much food that the table groaned under its weight; food that - in Ollie’s present hung-over state - he couldn’t do justice to.

  She’d popped a surprisingly big cheque inside his birthday card too, so he could start buying the parts he needed for the second-hand Vespa his folks had bought him. His mum and dad kept teasing him about his hangover, but had obviously forgiven him.

  Everyone was being so nice, but he didn’t deserve it. Not him. Not someone who could drunkenly snog his friend.

  Why did I do it? How could I have done that to Cat when she was feeling so vulnerable? he groaned to himself for the hundredth time. How could I have taken advantage of her like that?