by Liz Bankes
‘Thanks,’ Heidi chimes in and winks at me.
‘Gabi.’ It’s Angry Skull talking. ‘Do you have five minutes? I thought I’d set up some meetings for you.’
Spencer shifts from one foot to the other and looks down. I am sure I see a frown cross his face.
‘Yes, sure.’ I try to stop thinking about what Spencer is doing and focus. ‘I just have to make the drinks, so after that?’
‘I can talk to you while you do that. Lead the way.’
As he follows me into the university building, I hear Heidi’s voice ring out behind me.
‘Why does my cup have Nip written on it?’
It was another one of mine and Max’s stupid arguments about nothing. We always had them. Like the time I told him he put his socks on in a really annoying way and he shouted, ‘I literally don’t know what you mean!’ Or when he was in a bad mood because he fell over putting his trousers on and I couldn’t stop laughing, even though he hit his head on the floor and it ‘could have been really serious’. But this argument didn’t feel like it was about nothing.
I’d invited him round for a night in together. My parents were out and we were going to cook dinner. Rosie had been out on a date with this guy who’d taken her out to dinner and they’d got all dressed up and it was really romantic. So I told Max we needed to do something nice, because we never bothered doing anything except watching TV and playing Call of Duty. Max kept saying that I should be taking it easy after all the family stuff that happened and stop trying to organise things, but I told him not to be stupid. I was fine.
I know it was hard because I was working almost every Saturday night, and some Fridays, at Radleigh – and he was under loads of pressure from his dad to revise for A-levels because he’s probably going to get good ones, unlike me. Max’s dad said Events Management was a Mickey Mouse subject.
And everyone was asking us (mostly in a mocking way) when the big day was going to be and I started feeling like no one saw us as a proper couple. I told Max he had to be round early so we could go shopping for ingredients. He turned up late and brought his PlayStation with him.
I was trying to make a list of food by flicking through a Nigella book.
‘Ooh, babe, we could do chicken in parma ham?’
‘Die, fleshbag!’
‘This thai red curry looks good.’
Max was suspiciously quiet. Then I heard crunching.
‘Are you eating?’
Crunch. ‘Hmm?’
‘What are you eating?’
There was a silence and then he said something that sounded like, ‘A snub of shitbits.’
‘What the hell is a snub of shitbits?’
‘A TUB of TWIGLETS!’
I went off on one. Shouting at him for not making an effort and not bothering to wear nice clothes when I knew he’d got a new T-shirt for a night out with his friends. He didn’t respond. Then I went round to the front of the sofa and saw that he’d put headphones on. So I ripped the PlayStation wire out of the wall. He dropped the handset in horror.
‘Oh my God, don’t be a bitch about it or anything!’
‘You weren’t listening.’ I flung my arm out at him in anger.
‘If you were reading a book I wouldn’t come along and . . . burn it!’
‘That doesn’t make sense!’
‘Yeah, I guess it doesn’t. Because when would you ever be reading a book?’
It felt like a slap. I kicked the Twiglets over.
‘Oh cos you’re such an intellectual, Max. All you’ve read are all the Harry Potters and that thing with all the hairy children and the frog man.’
‘The Lord of the Rings?’
‘Whatever. I planned a nice night for us, and you come round all scruffy. And then you’re rude.’
‘Why are you being all weird? Normally you’d be playing too and in your pyjamas and not talking to me like you’re my mum.’
He did have a point. I usually got into my pyjamas as soon as I got in the house. Especially if I knew it was just Max coming round.
He reattached the PlayStation, put the Twiglet tub upright again and dug out another handful.
‘STOP EATING TWIGLETS!’
He got another handful and slowly and deliberately crammed them into his mouth.
‘Who eats a whole tub of Twiglets anyway? Why can’t you just put a reasonable amount in a little bag before you come round? WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU? Are you some sort of monster?’
Max cracked up. ‘Why can’t I just put a reasonable amount in a little bag? Can you hear yourself?’
The point where the argument descended into laughter was usually where it ended. And that’s what Max had thought was happening, because he hugged me. Going, ‘Get off’ and wriggling just made him hug me tighter, stroke my hair and say, ‘Ah, love. We’re in love,’ in a silly voice.
‘I’m really sorry I was a dick,’ he said then.
There was the familiar Maxy smell. My face was squashed against his chest.
Then he whispered, ‘Gabi . . .’ and I turned my face towards his.
And he burped.
I shoved him away. ‘You’re so disgusting.’
‘Er, it’s just you. Like you’ve ever been bothered before.’
As he squeezed me tighter, a cold, numb feeling – that always seemed to be in the pit of my stomach those days – grew. My whole body felt hollow. I knew I was about to say something awful.
Chapter 25
The whole set is in a state of confusion and chaos the next day because we’ve just been told that a brand new scene needs to be filmed at the end of today. When I was photocopying the scripts to hand out, I saw that Spencer was in it.
Apparently it was decided that Harry and Jas didn’t have enough tension going on between them. There needed to be something more to keep them apart.
Now Jas is going to go all wild and get with a random guy at a bar – Spencer. His character has gone from Student in Bar 1 to Hugh, who is a rich bad boy. I can’t wait to make fun of him about it – that is if I see him. I haven’t been able to speak to him at all today.
And I’ve been kind of avoiding him.
Loads of work needs to be done dressing the set on one of the student bars downstairs, which is used as the club. I have been spending ages on the phone trying to get hold of the actor who plays the bartender to let him know he needs to come back in.
People keep going up to Spencer and congratulating him. Most of the time he’s got Heidi with him. They are still talking through the scene right up until the last minute, barely noticing the various people coming over to touch up their make-up and arrange strands of hair around Spencer’s face – strands of his own hair, I mean, they weren’t adding on extra ones.
When the cameras roll, I am not actually there. I have to be upstairs to stop randoms coming in. But I have the script with me. I made one too many copies.
The scene starts with Jas downing shots. I wonder if Heidi will ask for the shots to be served in paper shot glasses. It would be a shame if she injured her hands. Rich, bad Hugh is leaning against a wall at the back of the club. He’s wearing a white T-shirt with one of those checked scarves wound round his neck, and they were talking about keeping him in his hat. The cast have all been moaning about the warm winter clothes they have to wear.
So Jas’s friends point out Hugh, who ‘glowers moodily’. Jas shouts that she’s off men for good and that he looks like a grumpy bastard, at which point Spencer has to do his first piece of acting and raise an eyebrow. Jas gets more drunk and then Hugh comes over and offers her drugs. When she says no, he says, ‘Or perhaps you’d like something even more . . . intoxicating.’ But Jas walks off, straight into Harry, who is kissing a girl. So Jas marches back over to Hugh, grabs him and kisses him, right in the middle of the club.
I imagine he’ll softly brush her lips at first. And then move against her more forcefully. And the tip of his tongue will meet hers. And he’ll kiss her deeply and passionately and it wi
ll all be bloody perfect.
I seem to have scrunched the script into a ball.
I try to pick out sounds in the murmur coming from downstairs, but I can’t work out which part of the scene they are at. But when the noise dips, I am sure that must be the kiss.
The noise dips five times.
Chapter 26
I think filming in the uni bar has got everyone in the party mood. They come walking up the stairs and Bex, who plays mean Jen but is totally lovely in real life, calls out to me that they are heading to the pub and tells me where it is so I can come along after I’ve helped clean up.
I’m a bit worried that I won’t get in. At Spanky’s the bouncers are total pervs and just let us in anyway. They must know we’re underage. But when I reach the pub I see there aren’t any bouncers at this place.
Maybe I should get somebody else to get my drink, though. Mainly because there are about five billion people at the bar and I can’t be bothered to wait. Someone nudges me on the arm.
‘Heyy, Gaaab.’ Spencer is grinning at me. He’s definitely a bit drunk.
‘Hello.’
‘You’ve been ignoring me today.’ He points his finger at me.
‘I haven—’
‘I feel used.’
He’s doing his quizzical frown with one eyebrow raised. Then he pouts. In a husky voice he says, ‘Would it help if I was bad boy Hugh?’ His voice drops even lower, so that it is barely audible to human ears. ‘D’you want some drugs, Gabi?’ He does the eyebrow thing again, waggling it up and down this time.
I can’t stop the laugh coming out and the little voice in my head telling me to run goes a bit quieter.
Then he says, ‘Have this drink,’ and hands me his beer. ‘We’ve got a whole table of them over there.’ He beckons me away from the bar area and into a corner.
‘So how did it all happen then?’ I ask as we head over. His personality transformation has me all on edge. I don’t know how to be around him.
‘I, er, signed up with that agent.’ He speaks quickly. ‘She has loads of contacts at the company. She emailed Colin and Mark after she saw me on Friday. Said the show was missing a real bad boy. Apparently the new big thing is “tall, dark . . . stubbly and bad”, which is me – or so she says.’
‘You are stubbly,’ I agree.
He grins, grabs another beer from the table.
I wonder if I should say anything about last night. Or this morning.
Or I could kiss him and forget about anything big and just enjoy myself.
I’m leaning forward when a hand appears on his shoulder. It’s Heidi. I don’t think she even notices I am there. She’s dragging Spencer onto the dance floor, saying, ‘Cast song!’
They are all standing in a circle with their arms round each other and are opening up to let Spencer in. But Spencer stops.
‘Wait a minute.’ He takes a step back towards me and holds out his hand to pull me into the circle with him. Bex cheers and some of the other cast do too, even though they probably don’t know my name. The girl who plays Priya puts her arm round me, but all I can think about is Spencer’s hand on my waist. The song is ‘We Are Young’ by Fun, and we all sway in the circle, really going for it when it gets to the chorus. At the na na bit, Spencer and I sing it into each other’s faces, trying to outdo each other. When the final tonight rings out, we throw our arms upwards and whoop.
Spencer puts his arm round me again, lifts me up and spins me in a circle. I’m dizzy and laughing and feel a bit more like the old me. Last year, before all the sad stuff happened. I think some people are looking over – I do have a pretty loud laugh – but I’m not really bothered.
When he stops, I slide back down his body until my feet touch the floor, but he holds me close and leans his head forward.
‘Do you want to come back?’
‘Better not stay out two nights in a row. Granny will go mental,’ I say. There’s a happy hum going through me that he wants me to go round again.
‘It’ll be a shame if you go,’ he mutters, swaying slightly.
I take a step back. ‘I know what’s going on here,’ I say. ‘You lurve me.’
He laughs. ‘Oh do I?’
‘Yeah, obviously. It’s okay – I don’t blame you.’
He fiddles with a strand of hair on my shoulder. ‘Do you really have to go home?’
‘People might start thinking we’re more than tourist and tour guide.’
Something – maybe disappointment – flashes across his face, before he regains his composure and shakes his head. ‘We wouldn’t want that.’
In the background I notice a girl standing by the bar. She has long ringletty red hair and I recognise her as one of the extras. Her eyes are fixed on Spencer and suddenly a thought snags on my brain. A feeling tugging at me and telling me that if I miss an opportunity to see him he will lose interest. And those flashes of panic again. This must be what happens when people go out with someone new and then they disappear and you hardly see them. A few minutes ago I wasn’t thinking about anything except having fun with him and now I feel like I need to be with him.
It scares me.
‘You can have your pick of the girls now you’re an acting hunk,’ I say and take a gulp of beer.
‘Um, I guess.’ Spencer frowns at me. He takes a step back as well.
‘What about that girl over there?’ I point out the red-haired girl by the bar. ‘She’s been eyeing you up.’
‘You want me to go and chat up that girl?’ He is fixing me with an intense look.
I shrug. ‘Yeah, why not?’
What am I doing?
He doesn’t say anything and takes another sip of his drink, still watching me.
‘So I’m going to go,’ I say.
Spencer nods. ‘Cool. Well, I’ll walk you out.’
He turns to go abruptly and I follow him a few paces behind. We walk stiffly, like the chilly mood between us is affecting our movement.
I don’t know what’s making me do this. Push him as far away as possible. It’s like I’m trying to prove to myself that I can’t trust him.
As we come out of the door we hear raised voices. One is high-pitched and, although it is more strained than usual, is unmistakeably Heidi Adams. On the road outside the club, she is standing by a taxi and arguing with a man in a suit who has very square hair.
She is shrieking, ‘It’s not fair! We only had a few drinks!’
His voice is low and quiet and a bit scary. ‘Heidi, you have work in the morning. You have auditions this week. What is “not fair” is you taking the piss with my money.’
We’ve stopped right by them. Heidi sees us and flinches, a mortified expression passing over her face. Then she flashes us a smile. ‘Guys! Going home together? That’s adorable.’
‘Everything all right, Heidi?’ Spencer frowns.
‘Er, yeah? I hope you’re getting an early night, Spence. I want you on form for our scene.’ She pokes him playfully on the shoulder and grins again. Although I am feeling sorry for her I would still quite like to hit her.
‘Get in the car,’ says the man to Heidi, ushering her in. He hasn’t even turned to look at us.
After the brief chance to think about something else we turn back to each other.
‘So you’ll be all right getting to the station?’ There’s a bit of thawing in his voice. It makes me want to take back all the stupid stuff I was saying about other girls.
But I don’t. I nod, and all the confused feelings about him jumble around inside me.
‘Well, I’ll . . .’ He points behind him back into the club. There’s a pause. This is my chance to keep him here.
It passes. The only noise is a far-off siren.
I stay rooted to the spot as I watch him go. From here I can see back into the club. I can see him go back in. See him chatting to the red-haired girl. See him slip his arm around her waist as they disappear off together into the crowd.
It’s for the best, I tell myself. I
t takes the pressure off. And now I know that if I push him away, he’ll go.
But I wish it was me he had his arm around.
I hadn’t noticed that I’m shivering. I have no idea what the time is. I take my phone out to check for messages before I lose signal on the train. I have a whole load of messages and missed calls. Granny must be paranoid, but I’m not going to be back very late.
It’s only when I look closer that I see the calls aren’t from Granny; they’re from Nish.
Oh my God. Today was Rosie’s birthday.
Chapter 27
I keep trying to focus on feeling bad, and writing my I’M REALLY SORRY email, because I do feel awful. Granny keeps calling for me to come down from my ladder room for breakfast. She’s going to come up in a minute and see what’s wrong – it is highly unusual for me to not appear when food is on the table.
But I keep clicking over onto the Facebook photos of Rosie’s birthday night out. I’ve sat here and scrolled through the same thirty-eight pictures probably a million times. There is a ball of guilt and jealousy sitting in the pit of my stomach. The worst thing is I think I am more upset that Max is in the pictures than I am guilty about what I did.
Max was at Rosie’s birthday. I know it doesn’t make sense to be so annoyed. I’m angry with him for doing exactly the same thing I am. Going out and having a good time. Focusing on himself and friends, like Dad said I should do.
But the way it all looks – how happy and smiley and laughy he is, dancing with everyone, with his arm round Rosie – all makes it seem like he doesn’t get randomly sad about us, like I do. He’s right there, grinning his stupid comedy pout that he does in photos. His arm round Rosie and their cheeks touching.
It’s stupid, but I feel like I’ve got this right to know everything that happens in his life. And when I go back through Max’s photos, I realised that last Saturday Rosie had gone out for Max’s brother Cal’s birthday. There she is, with Max again, and not tagged in any of the pictures.