Wasted

by Nicola Morgan

  There are no signs that something is about to happen. No omens. No solitary magpies or one-legged black cats. No one walks under a ladder or breaks a mirror or spills salt. The idea might have come into Jack’s mind to toss the coin to see whether they should even go into this club. And maybe the coin would have said they shouldn’t. But the idea is far from his mind. Maybe this is the moment when an observer could have said, Stop! Make a different choice now! Toss the coin, Jack, and hope it tells you to go somewhere else. Home, preferably.

  So, perhaps it is all Jack’s fault. For forgetting to make his sacrifice to luck. And now the ancient gods are annoyed with him for that lapse. But Jack is in love – he is in no position to concentrate.

  Perhaps if they hadn’t been so wrapped up in each other they’d have seen Kelly peering round a corner, and watching them go in. They’d have seen her talking to someone. They might have seen her face, twisted by anger and vodka. But even if they had, it would have told them nothing and changed nothing.

  We will watch Jess and Jack for a little longer and then we will reach a moment when either one thing or another will happen. It is not possible to predict which it will be, because many small and uncertain things will lead up to it. It will hinge on something so tiny and unnoticeable, so uncontrollable, that it might as well be decided by the toss of a coin. Some people would call it chance. Jack would call it luck.

  So, here they are, in the club, the noise so ear-splitting that they must touch each other a lot, pull each other very close just to be heard. They are not complaining. Jess is feeling slightly dizzy and has had enough to drink but she’s at that point where saying yes is easier than saying no and there isn’t enough reason to say no.

  “Drink?” Jack shouts in her ear.

  “Whatever you’re having,” she yells back, and can hardly hear her own words.

  Jack and Ella go to the bar, Chris goes to the toilet and Jess tries to claim some space for them all. She finds a pillar to lean against. For a while she stands there, her head buzzing. It is tiring having to shout and for a moment she wishes she and Jack could go somewhere else. And that she’d asked for something non-alcoholic. She looks around at the room, packed with people, a few dancing, but most standing, drinking, laughing and shouting.

  Once they are all back together again, it’s not long before Chris and Ella seem to see some people they know and disappear. Jack and Jess both guess that this is not entirely a coincidence. Jess catches his eye. He’s smiling. She looks at the ground and her heart races. There’s an urge in her, deep and hot, which she thinks she may not want to resist.

  The forces of night are ready. They are watching Jess and Jack and waiting for the moment.

  Jess and Jack talk – or shout – for the next twenty minutes or so. They are unaware of everything else, wrapped around as they are by the noise and heat. Everyone in the bar could have disappeared and been replaced by robots, or turned green; armed police could be wandering through the room; a man could be leading a tiger on a string. None of these things is happening, but Jess and Jack would not have known if they all were.

  Then, without warning – because there almost never is a warning – the forces of night make their move.

  This is the moment when events will go in one direction or another. There will be a tiny happening, unnoticed by all concerned, which, like the dirt on one side of a coin, or an uneven surface to land on, will make all the difference in the world to Jack and Jess and some of the people who love them.

  Here, now, are the two alternatives. Only one will actually happen. We will look at them both and then play Jack’s Game and let the coin decide. Will it be heads or will it be tails?

  NOTE:

  Only one of the next two chapters will happen. Then, a coin will spin and the story will follow whichever event the coin “decides”.

  CHAPTER 12

  HEADS

  OUTSIDE the club, a girl called Marianne is queuing with her friends. Marianne has a fake ID. It is her older sister’s passport. She has used it before and it has usually worked. She looks enough like her sister and, in any case, passport photos usually look like a criminal version of someone vaguely like oneself when ill.

  There are two bouncers on the door. Marianne smiles sweetly at one of them.

  He almost smiles back. “ID. Please.” Takes it from her. Flicks through it. Is about to ask her a question. He isn’t sure he believes it’s hers.

  “Date of birth?”

  Marianne knows that one. Dead obvious. She looks straight at him, and there’s a confidence in her face that goes a very long way to convincing him. But not the whole way. He still doesn’t one hundred per cent believe her. He’s going to ask her what countries she’s been to. And when. So he flicks through the pages to find one with tourist stamps. There are a lot of stamps – this is a girl who has travelled. Or, if it’s not hers, the owner of the passport has. He can probably catch her out. On the other hand, can he be bothered? He’s turned away a load of people that night, done his job.

  No, he will – he’ll trap her. Might as well. He opens his mouth to ask her the first question. But at that very moment there is a noise over her shoulder and he looks up. It’s a group of boys, rich kids, noisily pushing into the queue. They could be about to cause trouble. The other people in the queue are not happy. His colleague has just gone to the toilet, so he’s on his own.

  For a moment, he hesitates. It could go either way.

  But you can’t hesitate long in a job like this. You have to make snap decisions.

  He decides.

  He lets Marianne in and focuses on the boys.

  Meanwhile, in the bar, Jack and Jess are standing up, showing each other photos on their phones. They are going to dance soon, but they need to finish their drinks first, which are on the table near them. Margaritas, salt on the rims. Jess is not planning to have anything more after this. She knows she has had enough. Her head is gently spinning.

  Kelly Jones appears beside them. She is smiling. Pleasantly. Which is disconcerting.

  “Hello, Kelly,” says Jack. Jess watches her. Alcohol has slackened Kelly’s mouth and various other muscles and as she leans towards Jack she almost falls on him.

  “Steady there, Kelly,” he says.

  She continues smiling sweetly, her face centimetres from his. Traces her finger down the side of his face and to his collar. Jess watches. Kelly’s smile is not in her eyes.

  Marianne, at this precise moment, has met Ella and Chris on the other side of the bar and is chatting to them. This is much more important than it might seem. Jack and Jess are, of course, unaware. They have more apparently interesting things to concentrate on.

  Someone knocks into Jack from behind and he twists round.

  A boy grins, holds his hands up. “Sorry, mate!”

  Jack shrugs.

  At this moment, Kelly appears to lose interest in Jack’s body and walks away. Or perhaps reels away is a better way to describe her erratic path. Jess and Jack look at each other and grin.

  “Weird!” says Jess.

  “Horrible,” says Jack. “Finish your drink and then we can go and dance.

  Jess stirs hers and knocks it back. Later she may half remember that it tasted somewhat bitter but it’s hard to be sure, especially with the salt on the rim. And anyway, she has drunk it now. She follows Jack onto the small dance floor.

  CHAPTER 13

  TAILS

  OR, alternatively, is this what happens?

  Outside the club, a girl called Marianne is queuing with her friends. Marianne has a fake ID. It is her older sister’s passport. She has used it before and it has usually worked. She looks enough like her sister and, in any case, passport photos usually look like a criminal version of someone vaguely like oneself when ill.

  There are two bouncers on the door. Marianne smiles sweetly at one of them.

  He almost smiles back. “ID. Please.” Takes it from her. Flicks through it. Is about to ask her a question. H
e isn’t sure he believes it’s hers.

  “Date of birth?”

  Marianne knows that one. Dead obvious. She looks straight at him, and there’s a confidence in her face that goes a very long way to convincing him. But not the whole way. He still doesn’t one hundred per cent believe her. He’s going to ask her what countries she’s been to. And when. So he flicks through the pages to find one with tourist stamps. There are a lot of stamps – this is a girl who has travelled. Or, if it’s not hers, the owner of the passport has. He can probably catch her out. On the other hand, can he be bothered? He’s turned away a load of people that night, done his job.

  No, he will – he’ll trap her. Might as well. He opens his mouth to ask her the first question. But at that very moment there is a noise over her shoulder and he looks up. It’s a group of boys, rich kids, noisily pushing into the queue. They could be about to cause trouble. The other people in the queue are not happy. His colleague has just gone to the toilet, so he’s on his own.

  For a moment, he hesitates. It could go either way.

  But you can’t hesitate long in a job like this. You have to make snap decisions.

  He decides.

  “Just wait,” he tells Marianne. “You’re going nowhere. Oi, you lot – get to the back of the queue or there’s no way you’re getting in!”

  There’s a certain amount of grumbling. One boy is held back by the others when it looks as though he might argue. The bouncer has the power and they know that.

  So, he turns his attention back to Marianne and catches her out with some of his questions about countries that she hasn’t been to. “Sorry, love, not your lucky night,” he says, grinning. And she goes off with her friends to try somewhere else.

  Marianne, therefore, does not get into the club. Which is much more important than it seems.

  Meanwhile, in the bar, Jack and Jess are standing up, showing each other photos on their phones. They are going to dance soon, but they need to finish their drinks first, which are on the table near them. Margaritas, salt on the rims. Jess is not planning to have anything more after this. She knows she has had enough. Her head is gently spinning.

  Kelly Jones appears beside them. She is smiling. Pleasantly. Which is disconcerting.

  “Hello, Kelly,” says Jack. Jess watches her. Alcohol has slackened Kelly’s mouth and various other muscles and as she leans towards Jack she almost falls on him.

  “Steady there, Kelly,” he says.

  She continues smiling sweetly, her face centimetres from his. Traces her finger down the side of his face and to his collar. Jess watches. Kelly’s smile is not in her eyes.

  Someone knocks into Jack from behind and he twists round.

  A boy grins, holds his hands up. “Sorry, mate!”

  Jack shrugs.

  At this moment, Kelly appears to lose interest in Jack’s body and walks away. Or perhaps reels away is a better way to describe her erratic path. Jess and Jack look at each other and grin.

  “Weird!” says Jess.

  “Horrible,” says Jack. “Finish your drink and then we can go and dance.”

  Jess is about to do so, when her drink is suddenly knocked out of her hand. It is Chris, with Ella close behind.

  “What the…!”

  “I think your drink was spiked.”

  “You’re joking! How do you know?”

  “We saw Kelly talking to someone and then she came over to you and we thought she was going to cause trouble. Then this other guy was going towards you at the same time. And it just seemed all very kind of set up that the guy knocked into you while Kelly was talking to you. I couldn’t see if she actually did anything because I couldn’t see your drinks, but I wouldn’t put it past her to have it planned.”

  “But that’s… How would she get hold of whatever it was?”

  “Kelly knows all the right people. You know her older brother did time for supplying? She would know how to get whatever she wanted. Could have been Ecstasy or any number of things. I don’t even know the names of half the stuff people can get.”

  Jess feels cold. Though she finds it hard to believe that Kelly would do this. Chris and Ella must have imagined it.

  “She can’t get away with this,” says Jack. “What did the guy look like? Is he still here?” Jack cannot keep still.

  “He’s probably left, if he’s got any sense,” said Ella.

  “Come on – we’ve got to find him.” Jack starts pulling Jess towards the exit.

  “No, stop,” says Ella. “I’ve got a better idea.” And she certainly has, a devious and clever idea. Which she tells them. And they agree.

  But she may not need to use her devious and clever idea, because we still don’t know which of the two possibilities comes true. Does Marianne get into the club and distract Chris and Ella so that they don’t see anything, or does Marianne not get into the club, leaving Chris and Ella free to keep an unintentional but useful watch over Jack and Jess?

  We have to let the coin decide. It’s time to play Jack’s Game.

  CHAPTER 14

  HEADS OR TAILS?

  THE coin lands heads up. For Marianne, the night is going swimmingly. Her fake ID has worked, by chance or whatever – she doesn’t care now. Now, someone she likes from school has appeared in her line of vision. She finishes talking to Ella and Chris and moves on.

  Swimmingly, in another sense, could be used to describe how Jess is about to feel. But for now she’s walking onto the dance floor with Jack. It is perhaps not fair to describe in too much detail the sensations in their bodies. They are dancing together – how should we expect them to feel? It absorbs every cell of their bodies. It makes them hot, their blood surging, a melting feeling. Each move of fingers on body catches their breath, takes over their heartbeat, quickening everything except time, as the music pounds through them.

  Jess is dizzy now, her head buzzing. She feels slightly sick. She knows she has drunk too much but it has come on her suddenly. Now, too late, she regrets that last drink. But she knows it’s always too late by the time you regret that last drink.

  And this particular drink – as we know, but Jess does not – is special.

  The music slows and Jack takes Jess. He begins to wrap his arms around her and she vaguely feels his hands on her back. But she is not sure. She is slipping away, though her feet still seem to work. Voices, faces, head and arms swirl around her. The room goes dark and there is a salty taste on her tongue. There are animals in the room, wolves and dragons breathing liquid nitrogen, dancing. A unicorn stands in the corner, smooth and white, motionless, watching. Jess shakes her head but the unicorn is still there. A hunter prowls the room looking for her.

  She is caught in a net. It is around her shoulders, her face. She tries to scream but only silence comes out and there is not enough breath in her lungs. The rope, thick and smelling of the sea, is over her mouth and she struggles, panic rising now. The wolves and dragons are watching her. Some of them are laughing. Freezing air washes her face and she gasps with a headache that grips her from nowhere. Colour has disappeared and everything is grey, darkening, now almost black.

  Something crawls around her back, tightening. It is the rope, she thinks, at first. Until she hears its hiss, holds her breath, clamps her mouth shut. The snake weaves around her back. It is cold and oddly dry. It is on the bare flesh beneath her armpit, and on the back of her neck. Her skin creeps with it. She wants to scream and perhaps she does. Needs to run but can’t. Jess tells herself she’s having a nightmare, tries to shout herself awake, jerk reality back. In her head thoughts rush and tangle, coloured worms swirl through the black night and stab her behind the eyes. She doesn’t know where the floor is, which way up she is. How to speak.

  Her legs give way and her feet stop working. But she does not fall. She is being carried, dragged, by someone she cannot see. The hunter has found her. And now Jess knows nothing. She is not with us. She is nowhere. Her mind has gone to a place of such darkness and horror that we cann
ot follow, for our own good. It is best not even to imagine it. For Jess herself will forget.

  Jack is half dragging Jess out of the club. How did she get so drunk so fast, he is wondering? Did she have more than he’d realized? Was the drink stronger than he’d thought? He has had more than normal himself, but he’s fine, in control. He feels responsible – he’s brought her to this club. One moment they’d been dancing and then suddenly she had stumbled in his arms and her eyes had gone glassy. She didn’t seem to hear what he was saying. When people had started giving her weird looks, he’d decided to get her out of there, and here they are, outside. “Taking her home,” he mouths to Chris and Ella as they leave. Ella looks concerned. He shakes his head, smiles. “It’s OK,” he says. He doesn’t know if it is OK, but it will have to be. It must be. Maybe she’s tired, or hasn’t eaten anything, or maybe she’s on some kind of medication. Whatever, he wants to get her home, let her mum take over.

  He walks Jess past the bouncer. She is limp, his arm around her waist holding her up, her feet barely touching the ground. Her head lolls forward, thick hair dishevelled. He feels the shape of her, the lightness of her body, but he will not think of that.

  The bouncer rolls his eyes. “There goes another one. You need any help with her, mate?”

  “No, thanks. She’ll be fine.”

  “Yeah, well. Anyway, don’t try anything on – remember, I’ve seen your face.”

  Jack stares back at him. Says nothing. Turns away. Something in him wants to speak out but it does not.

  There is Kelly Jones, with Samantha and Charlie. Of course. They are laughing. Why are they there? At that moment? Where did they come from? And what is behind their laughter? These are questions Jack doesn’t ask himself, not at this time, though he may later if he remembers to. He should ask these questions but he has other concerns.