by Jo Cotterill
And that’s all you can remember.
You sigh as you shake your head to clear your brain, but it just makes your head hurt more.
“Hey, my confused lil’ alcoholic,” says Rubes, smiling from the floor. You want to cry all over again.
“Why are you being so nice to me?” you whisper, unable to look at him because of your embarrassment.
“Because you’re my best friend, you’re in a mess and I hope and I pray you didn’t mean to kiss me last night?” he offers.
You smile, and the tears fade from your eyes. “Sorry.” Your voice is dry, but your apology is deeply meant.
Rubes gets up, grabs your hand and pulls you up sharp, making your head rush. You clutch your forehead and groan, lying back down.
“Nope!” he says with glee. “Shower! Coffee! School! Then we are going to go to Walker and ask her if you can have another part in the play? Yes?”
You groan again, letting Rubes haul you into the disinfectant-smelling bathroom and into the shower.
“You smell terrible. Shower,” Rubes orders. “And I will recycle this” – he holds up the vodka bottle – “and I’m going to get us some Pop-Tarts and we are going to go down to The Caf and have ourselves a nice big mochaccino! Yes?”
You grunt in agreement. “Do I have to see Walker?” you ask reluctantly.
“Yeeeeeeeees!” Rubes says with a flourish, closing the door behind him.
This time the pounding water doesn’t soothe you, it just increases the headache. You shower quickly and change, heading for Reuben and the Pop-Tarts downstairs. The smell makes your stomach turn over, but you walk out of the door at double speed, letting the cold winter’s air hit your face and whip back your hair, a welcome distraction from your headache and the day ahead. How am I meant to face Walker feeling like this? you think incredulously.
The pair of you enter The Caf, finding the table that you usually occupy and plonking yourselves down. Reuben’s eyes flit over to the tills, where the hot waiter guy usually is, but today he’s a no-show. Rubes sighs with puppy-dog eyes, his brows knitted together in a slight sad frown, and picks up a small pack of sugar, tearing at it distractedly. You smile and put on your best cheesy American accent.
“Honey, honey, honey,” you say, taking his chin in your right hand. “If you’re gonna sit there lookin’ like a wet mop, then next time I’ll leave ya at home.”
He smiles weakly at you in an absent kind of way and goes back to his shredding.
“He’s just so pretty!” he whispers solemnly.
You smile sympathetically. “Then tell him. That’s all you need to do. Tell him.”
He shakes his head, violently, like a little boy who has just been told that if he doesn’t stop hitting his baby sister then his Action Man will no longer be in action.
“No! What if I’m wrong, and he’s straight? He’ll just laugh and I will lose all confidence in myself, and I will never love again.”
You smile. So like Rubes to play the tragic lover, you think. Maybe that’s why we’re such good friends.
“Reuben – get a grip. You know why Romeo and Juliet got together?” He looks at you blankly. You sigh exasperatedly. “Because Juliet declared her love for him on her balcony. What if she hadn’t done that, huh? They might not have got it on!”
Rubes looks confused. “But hang on, she didn’t know he was there when she confessed her everlasting love for him.”
You pause, knowing that he is right, but not letting on. “Yes, but she still said it. And he still heard it. So: what do you have to do?”
You raise your eyebrows and Rubes still stares at you, puzzled. “Stand on a balcony in a dress and cry out to the empty night that ‘I love Cute Waiter Guy’?”
You grin. “Close. You have tell him you like him, Rube. You know you must, don’t you?”
He shrugs, nodding slightly but still looking troubled.
“What’s wrong now?” you ask.
He looks up at you with serious eyes, as if he’s about to cry. You frown and study him closely.
“Fine. But only if I get to wear the dress!”
You laugh, he grins naughtily, and you go to the tills to order your drinks.
“No foam!!” Rubes calls after you.
You wave to him over your shoulder to show that you heard, and reach the desk. The punk-Goth girl behind the counter has short, jet-black hair all spiked up and enough earrings in her ears to go around twenty people. She has earphones in even though there is music playing in the café, and she is picking at her bright pink nails. She sees you, smiles warmly, and saunters over to serve you. You recognize her as the girl who played in a band at the summer concert last year.
What’s her name…? Mandy? Mary? you think, but can’t remember. She is a few years older than you, but she recognizes you anyway.
“Jen Anderson, right? You sang at the last school concert,” she says.
You nod and smile. You had sung “Fever” and it was quite cool. The girl offers her hand and you shake it.
“It’s Mina, isn’t it? Mina Tucker?” you say, suddenly remembering how at the concert Mina’s band, Chaos, had introduced themselves. You remember how good they were, and how different and original Mina’s voice had been.
Mina smiles wryly. “Yeah. So what’ll it be, Jen?”
“Mochaccino, no foam, and one large coffee – my senses need a boost.”
Mina cocks an eyebrow as she makes you your drinks. “Rough night?” she says suggestively.
“My throat feels like sandpaper and my head feels like a washing machine on speed.”
She laughs slightly, and you can see her tongue piercing as it clicks delicately on her teeth. “Drowning your sorrows?”
You think back to yesterday’s events and inwardly cringe. “You could say that.”
Mina brings you over the mochaccino, and you pull out your purse.
“Um…” Mina starts, but then hesitates.
“What?” you reply.
She brings over your coffee, and drops the volume of her voice to a dramatic whisper. “Your friend…” She nods over to where Rubes is seated at the back of the busy room. He’s the only one who’s not moving – who is not chatting, or singing along or bobbing his head in time to the music. Instead, he’s slowly shredding the sugar packet, staring at the wall like the living dead.
Just like Rubes to be so dramatic … not that I can talk…
You turn back to Mina, smiling.
“Yeah, Reuben. What about him?”
She leans in and lowers her voice even lower. “He is…” says Mina quietly. She bites her lip. “He is … he is gay … isn’t he?”
She looks so worried that she might be wrong that you have to laugh.
“Yeah. Yeah he is.” You can’t tell whether she is disappointed or trying not to laugh. “Disappointed?”
She laughs and shakes her head. “No. Well, yeah, kinda, but this isn’t about that.” A smile creeps on to her face.
Definitely not disappointed.
“Why’d you ask?”
Her mouth twitches as she decides whether to tell you or not.
“Do you know my mate J?”
You search your mind but come up a blank, and shrug. “I don’t know. Should I?”
Mina smiles. “Yeah! He’s in here most mornings – the earlybird shift? Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed him.”
Realization hits you and you blush. Hot Waiter Guy? Forgot he had a real name! you think. You laugh too, grinning sheepishly.
“Er … yeah. I, er, know who you mean…” He’s the reason me and Rubes come here every day … but let’s be nonchalant about this, you think.
Mina smiles a secret smile. “Well … I’ll tell you a something. My friend likes your friend.”
You raise an eyebrow and grin. “Real
ly?”
She nods excitedly. “But that’s not all. My friend wants to ask your friend if—”
“Talking about me again, Meen?” J comes out from the kitchen, tying an apron around his waist and smiling at the two of you. You feel like melting. He really is incredibly hot…
Mina smiles at you and turns to J. “Actually – yes.” She turns and winks at you. You smirk. “We’re just discussing your Plan.”
J’s perfect face goes pink and he stops smiling. “‘My Plan’? What are you, erm…” He coughs slightly. He’s so embarrassed that you really want to start laughing now. “What are you talking about, Mina?” He looks at you, then looks across the room to Reuben, then back to you. “I don’t have, I mean, I don’t want to, that is, I, erm…”
Mina grins at you and you smile. You look up at J and smile comfortingly. “Full name is Reuben James Lucan. He likes hockey, drama and watches a lot of rugby. He’s addicted to coffee, wakes up way too early and loves loud music.” J stares at you for a second in disbelief, then over at Reuben’s turned back, biting his lip. His eyes flick back to you.
“Is he free tonight?”
You shrug. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?”
He sighs and looks to Mina, who nods. J walks out from behind the bar and winds his way through the crowd over to the table. He takes Reuben’s mochaccino with him as an excuse. You and Mina watch as J says something to Reuben, who looks up from his shredding and goes a shade of pink identical to J’s. J sits down at the table and you turn back to Mina.
“Is Chaos playing tonight?”
She nods. “Yeah, we are. Come along, you’re completely welcome.” She looks over the crowd at the two boys, and so do you. They’re already laughing and chatting like they’ve known each other for years. “It looks like Reuben should have the details, so come along and enjoy the music!”
Reuben and J are coming back towards you, the two of them grinning.
“You ready to go?” Reuben asks you, very calmly.
You want to give him a huge hug, but restrain yourself and shrug. “Yeah, of course.” You pick up your takeaway coffee and nod at the other two. “See you later.”
As soon as the door shuts behind you, you turn to Reuben. He carries on walking calmly along, in a very calm way, with a very calm smile on his face, which makes you want to shake him violently until he says something, anything, about the huge thing that has just happened. He doesn’t look at you and stays silent. The two of you turn the corner and The Caf goes out of sight. Reuben checks casually over his shoulder that there is no one behind the two of you, then jumps up in the air so fast that you leap back in surprise.
“Heaskedmeout, heaskedmeout, he asked me OUT!” Rubes cries, punching the air in what could be a manly way, if he wasn’t leaping about like some kind of hyper Easter bunny.
You laugh and envelop him into a big, congratulatory hug.
“He asked me OUT!” Reuben’s voice is muffled in your coat.
You let go, and see the biggest smile on your friend’s face. That smile makes you happy even when everything else is falling apart. You grin back.
“Damn right he did. How could he resist? You’re hot stuff, Mr Lucan!”
He bounces along beside you and laughs for no particular reason. Suddenly, he stops dead in the middle of his bouncing, frozen like a statue. You turn and stop too, worried, as the smile fades from his face.
“What?” you say anxiously. “Oh no, don’t tell me you already have plans, Rube, ’cause that would just be—”
He shakes his head violently, and looks at you like his world has just collapsed. He finally manages to squeak, “I don’t have anything to wear!”
You shake your head and link his arm in a comforting way, while he floats along beside you, half ecstatic, half mortified. You have a big smile on your face and you’re loving having your friend back by your side. But you just wish that your own problems were so simple.
“So this is it?” Will looks up from his bag to see Ethan at the door. They catch each other’s eyes, then quickly look away.
“And now it’s not a game,” Will says, clearing his throat. “We’re not little boys any more. We’re actually doing it. We’re joining the army…”
Ethan nods. “The only thing I’ve ever dreamed of. This is my chance. This is it. One more night, and then we’re gone…”
“And my dad is proud of me. I’ve finally done something right,” Will says.
“We’d better make it count.” Ethan gives a grin.
Will grins back.
“I’ll catch you up later,” he says. “Mum’s got a meal planned. Where will you be at about nine?”
At this, Ethan’s smile goes shy, and he rubs the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact with his friend. Will’s eyes narrow.
“What’s going on, Banner?” he asks, smiling. “What are you doing tonight?”
“I’m going to Jess’s house…” He blushes. “I’m going to tell her how I feel.”
Will grabs his best friend’s hand. He knows how much this means to Ethan.
“You’re going to tell her? Wow! Good luck, Eeth. After all these years of pining … but we’re going in the morning. . .”
“Yeah, but this is something I have to do. Let’s just hope that I don’t get completely heartbroken.”
Will sees the panic behind his eyes. “Don’t worry. You’ll do fine. Good luck, I’ll see you in the morning.”
Ethan looks around the room once, then back at his friend. Neither of them say what they are feeling, but they don’t have to. They know they are thinking the same things.
“See you tomorrow, brother,” Ethan says, turning and walking out of the room.
“Tomorrow,” echoes Will, a smile on his face.
You are searching through your wardrobe in a mad frenzy, waiting for Rubes to come round. You give up and collapse back on your bed. You’ve been searching for an outfit for about half an hour with no luck. Now you just want to relax for a second. You close your eyes and sigh, remembering the conversation that you have just had at the first rehearsal you haven’t been Juliet in.
At least I’m still helping with part of the play… you think.
You think back a few hours to when you had gone into the hall, where practice is sometimes held after school. You had had PE in there earlier, and left your gym bag in there by accident. Reuben told you that there was no rehearsal in there this afternoon, as it would be in the drama studio, so you felt OK to go and retrieve your bag.
You had walked into the room slowly, and seen Walker with Miss Phillips, who was up a ladder, fixing the lighting. Walker put a palm to her head in exasperation and Phillips came back down, snagging her tights as she awkwardly shuffled back down from the ceiling. You took this as your chance to enter. You looked around the room and saw your bag to the left.
As you slipped in, Walker turned to you cautiously, and greeted you with a comforting smile that didn’t quite mask the apprehensiveness of her speech.
“Jen. How are you?”
You were about to answer, but got distracted as Phillips missed the last couple of steps and collapsed to the ground in a small, smock-covered heap. You ran over to Phillips, who always looks like she would break in two.
“Are you OK, Miss Phillips?” you asked your English teacher, after you and Walker had helped her over to a seat.
“Yes, Jen, I’m OK, thank you,” she squeaked. “But my ankle does hurt quite a lot.” She turned to Walker. “I don’t think I should climb that ladder again…”
Walker nodded to her colleague. “I quite agree, Anne. I’ll sort it out later.”
This could be your chance to get back in on the play. You beamed at Phillips.
“Would you like me to do the lighting, Miss?”
“Would you?” she asked, pleadingly. Phillips looked like y
ou had just offered her a million pounds.
You smiled gratefully. “If you want me to.”
Walker frowned. “I was going to ask you to do another favour for me, Jen,” she began. “I was going to offer you Misha’s old part – the Nurse.” She watched you questioningly.
You thought about it for a minute. If I take this part, I’ll be acting, but I will get jealous. Chris would have a field day! Demoted after giving him all that crap? No, not likely! But … if I take the lighting job, I could say that I was offered a part but I turned it down, that I wanted to do the lighting … yeah… That would be better…
You turned towards Walker.
“No, thanks,” you had said with ease. “I think lighting would be cool.”
Phillips let out a sigh of relief.
Walker studied you closely, then nodded. “OK. If that’s what you want to do…?” You nodded. “Then lighting you will do. We’ll only need you for the last few rehearsals, so I’ll tell you which ones to come to.”
When it was time to go, you were leaning against a wall, listening to your shared iPod on full, when Reuben ran up to you with his face white with panic. You pulled an earphone out just in time to catch the last few words:
“…so what the hell are we going to do?”
“About what?” you asked, turning off the MP3 and handing it back to him.
“Did you even listen to a word I said? Think about it – I’m just sixteen. You are only fifteen. This club – it’s eighteens and over. You know what that means? It means we’ll need ID. I don’t have an ID card! I don’t even have a library card! What are we going to do?”
You didn’t say a word, but just smiled at your best friend as he got more and more frustrated with your silence.
“Why aren’t you saying anything? This is my love life we are talking about. It is crucial that I get there tonight! What if he doesn’t ask again? What if—”
“I’ve got that covered,” you announced.
Reuben stopped talking and gazed at you, half confused, half amazed. “Huh?”