Remix

by Non Pratt

  I do the zip back up, not wanting to intrude. It’s enough to know that some of us are capable of fixing our fuck-ups.

  KAZ

  It doesn’t feel the way I remember it –

  … it’s subtly different …

  – it feels better –

  … like he’s been practising with someone else …

  – and I don’t want it to stop –

  … I should say something …

  – but I pull away and look at him.

  The half-light dims the contours of his face, softening what I see. His breathing is slow and heavy, and his eyes watch my lips. Neither of us says anything as he pulls me down the hill and towards where he’s camped.

  It’s as deserted here as it was at ours and we ghost into his tent, Tom pulling me down against him, our bodies pressed together, fused by a kiss. Everything about this is urgent, as if there’ll never be another chance – so different from all the months of hushed fumbling under the covers or on the sofa. When Tom leans over me, my spine curls to press as much of my body into his as possible. Our breathing has escalated from heavy to ragged as Tom lifts away from my mouth to kiss my cheek, working across to my earlobe, where the sound of his breath engulfs everything else.

  There’s no hesitation when his hand runs firmly up the bare skin of my thigh, under my dress and into my knickers and I’m tugging at his top, his belt, his trousers until he’s naked next to me…

  “Your turn,” he breathes into my ear, his tongue brushing down my neck and across my collarbone to my cleavage. I unzip my dress, the material falling away until he’s kissing skin that’s not seen the sun.

  My bra is off within seconds, his fingers twisting the clasp as if he’s been doing it for years.

  I’ve lost control of my body, let alone my brain, but Tom pulls something out of the side pocket of the rucksack my head’s resting on.

  It’s a condom.

  Nine months of talking and, in the end, when we actually do it, neither of us says a word.

  RUBY

  When I wake up next I’m thirsty.

  “Kaz?” I croak, hoping that I won’t have to look for my own water supply.

  There’s no reply and I turn my head to see her empty sleeping bag.

  I don’t have the energy to find a cup for myself and I let myself get pulled under the surface of the sleep that’s lapping at my brain, wondering how long it’s been since she left me.

  KAZ

  As soon as it’s over, Tom rolls away from me and all the things that have been masked by a soft-focus haze of lust and adrenalin become real and sharp and harsh. The elastic thwap as he pulls off the condom, the chill of the canvas my arm’s resting against, the cramped tent and the smell of what’s just happened, sweat and deodorant, the drinks Tom’s had. I realize how naked I am, how tight and sore.

  I pull my knickers back on, but I’ve no idea where that bra went. “Have you seen my bra?”

  But Tom’s still sitting up, his back to me, head down, and I don’t think he heard me.

  “Tom?” I rest my hand on his back and he flinches away.

  That is not the response I wanted.

  “Oh God, Kaz…” Tom still isn’t looking at me. “What have we done?”

  If I was feeling confident and clever, I would make a joke about the birds and the bees.

  I don’t.

  When Tom turns round, he isn’t looking at me the way I want him to.

  He’s looking at me as if he’s frightened.

  RUBY

  I hope Kaz is OK…

  KAZ

  No.

  I pull my dress on too fast and I get stuck, plumbing the depths of indignity as Tom tugs it down over my bra-less breasts because I was trying to cover myself up as quickly as possible.

  I want to be sick.

  “Kaz, please, let’s just talk—”

  “No.” It’s the only word I’ve said since he told me the truth.

  “Let me explain.”

  “No.”

  “It’s you I want to be with, not her.”

  “No.”

  “Does that mean…?”

  I’m going to have to say something. “It means nothing, Tom. It means don’t talk to me. It means I can’t believe what you’ve done.”

  “So it does mean something?” Even when he’s this far in the wrong, Tom can’t help but try to be right.

  I put my face as close to his as I can, close enough that he can’t miss the tears I’m crying or the pain I feel when I say it again. “No.”

  Spying my bra under his sleeping bag, I grab it and back out of the tent, not even bothering to check whether the coast is clear. I hurry away from him, from what we’ve done, from what I have become.

  Even as I clear the circle of tents, I glance back, half hoping that I will see the boy I love running after me, begging me to forgive him, telling me that he loves me, that there is something he can do to make this right…

  That he didn’t just cheat on his girlfriend with me.

  There’s no one there. Tom zipped his tent shut the second I left.

  An ugly sob hiccups out of me and I nearly cannon into someone else on the path. For a horrifying second I recognize the pale pink hair, but Stella’s too preoccupied draping herself across whoever it is she’s walking with, and before either of them can see who’s knocked into them, I’ve hurried past into the shadow of a nearby gazebo.

  If there’s one thing that could make this worse, it’s anyone knowing what I’ve done.

  SATURDAY

  12 • HAMMERING IN MY HEAD

  RUBY

  It hurts.

  There’s a steady pulse in my right temple and my eyelids are gummed together with mascara and reluctance to function. My fuzzed tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth and I feel like I’ve just exhaled gas that is one part rotten eggs to five parts processed alcohol.

  Injustice flickers in my thoughts, but when I try and add up how much I drank, I get a bit lost. My indignation lowers its head and edges away, allowing humiliation to step up to the plate as I think of all the terrible things I said to Kaz. Groaning, I roll over and knock into a MASSIVE bottle of water with a paper cup resting on the lid. There’s a message written on the cup:

  DRINK ME

  On the floor next to that, there’s a packet of paracetamol with EAT ME written on it and then, (BUT ONLY THE RECOMMENDED DOSE!) in tiny little letters underneath. Kaz’s sleeping bag has been neatly folded over, her pyjamas sitting on top like towels on a hotel pillow, but other than this there’s no sign of her. I can’t remember her coming in last night… Once medicated, I pull on Ed’s massive hoodie that I’ve been using as a pillow and shuffle out of the tent and into the sun, prepared to ride out whatever looks I get from the others about how weird I acted last night.

  Lee’s the only person here.

  “You look rough,” is the first thing he says. I’d stick my tongue out at him, but that feels like effort.

  “Where’s everyone else?” I croak.

  “Gone showering.”

  “All of them?” By which I mean Kaz?! It’s not like her to shower with relative strangers, although she is a bit of a clean freak.

  Lee can see I’m struggling with the thinking. “They’ve gone off-site to do it somewhere hot and private. And to pick up McDonald’s.”

  This time I really am baffled. I lift my arm and wave at the nearest line of burger vans before I collapse onto the floor next to Lee.

  “They probably wanted to escape the smell. You stink, Rubbuteo.”

  He might have a point. I close my eyes and enjoy not moving.

  “Don’t fall asleep.” Lee prods me in the cheek and I open my eyes to see a wicked smile that promises nothing but pain. “I know something that’ll sort you out.”

  KAZ

  The shower is on its hottest setting and my skin’s blotchy from the heat as I stand under the stream and cry.

  It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve tried
to tell myself that I lost my virginity to the boy I love, what I’ve really done is have sex with another girl’s boyfriend.

  I should have asked him.

  It’s too late now. The memories of what we did burst across my brain – all the excitement and desire now tempered with shame.

  And misery. Because for all I feel appallingly, devastatingly guilty for what I’ve done, I feel sadder still that the boy I have always loved replaced me so quickly. He didn’t even care enough to be honest with me.

  “Kaz? Are you in there?” It’s Anna.

  “Yes, sorry. Coming!” I lift my face into the stream of scorching water and wash away the evidence of my misery before I switch the shower off and dry myself with the free gym towel. God bless Parvati for her expensive gym membership and willingness to give one of her promotional guest passes to me despite the fact that she doesn’t even know my real name. My pass says CAROLINE on it.

  The other two are dressed and waiting as I dart into a cubicle. My clothes stick to my still-damp skin as I pull them on, not wanting to delay the girls more than I have to. By the time I emerge, my top lip is coated in perspiration.

  “You all right?” Anna asks, looking at me closely, and I catch sight of my mottled reflection.

  “I’m fine!” I smile and nod as if moving will make it harder for her to see that I’m lying. “Just a bit hot in here…”

  Parvati nods. “It’s always baking in the changing room and I’m still steaming from the booze. Let’s get out of here.”

  I wish I could stay.

  RUBY

  No doubt inspired by the summer that Ed instigated the Drench Ruby Rule – when I couldn’t set foot in the back garden without someone throwing a bucket of water at me – Lee’s idea is for me to stand by the water point in my bikini whilst he uses a saucepan to chuck water at me.

  It has the desired effect.

  The second the water hits my skin, my hangover’s forgotten. What starts out as a “shower” soon turns into a full-on water fight, involving everyone within splashing distance of the taps, and by the time the attendant manning the water point comes over to break it up, I can barely breathe for laughing/screaming/shouting.

  Mood lifted, skin cleansed, I walk back with Lee.

  “Were you planning on telling me what happened last night, or were you just going to pretend everything’s fine?” Lee’s voice is quiet and he steps close enough that I can almost feel the water evaporating from his skin.

  “I could ask the same of you.” I glance up, but Lee’s eyes are on the ground. He can poker-face it better than Gaga when he wants to.

  “I’m serious, Pubes.” Lee bumps my arm. “Parvati told me that there was a spin-the-bottle incident involving Stu. She told me you were angry that you had to kiss him.”

  That’s one way of putting it, I suppose. The easy way.

  “I thought it was over,” I say, closing my eyes, permitting myself a heartbeat of remembering.

  “And it isn’t?” Lee asks.

  “It has to be,” I answer.

  KAZ

  Owen and Dongle are waiting outside with hot(ish) McDonald’s. Parvati tells us we’re not allowed to eat it in her mum’s car, so we all end up sitting in a line on the wall around the corner from the exclusive gym. A group of toned and tanned ladies dressed in expensive leggings and branded T-shirts give us looks that range from disapproval to sympathy as they walk past, Pilates mats rolled up under their arms. We aren’t exactly an attractive bunch: Dongle’s sweating through the grey vest he put on; Anna and Parvati are still looking peaky despite the shower, their meal punctuated by the occasional sigh as if eating is tiring. Of the two of us who aren’t hungover, I’m blotchy and miserable and Owen just looks plain miserable.

  I don’t know what Owen’s excuse is, but every bite of my hash brown is a battle against the rising sickness I feel at the thought of Tom’s hands on another girl’s skin, him kissing her the way he kissed me last night…

  When I look down, the hash brown I’m holding has turned into a potatoey mush between my fingers.

  Back at the campsite, I stop off to collect my phone from the charging tent – I’ll have to remind Ruby to do hers later. It’s exactly the sort of thing she’ll leave until it’s too late. There’s a new message from Mum.

  Someone’s written FLEAS!!! on the kitchen calendar. Am I supposed to know why? Do I have fleas? Do you? I can’t think it’s your sister.

  I message back telling her that Morag’s flea treatment is under the sink, signing off by reminding her to wash her hands afterwards and telling her that I love her. What I want to do is ring her and cry down the phone, confessing what I’ve done, but I’m not sure that will help. Mum is pretty hard-hearted when it comes to relationships – she was happier when I told her I’d broken up with Tom than when I told her I was in love with him and I envisage words of comfort that can be translated into the English language as “I told you so”.

  Then, because I obviously have a masochistic streak a mile wide, I reread Tom’s messages that were waiting for me when I turned my phone back on first thing this morning, before I’d even unzipped my sleeping bag.

  Kaz, I want you to know that the only mistake I’ve made was to break up with you in the first place. I want to be with you. Give me the weekend to make things right, OK?

  The next message is shorter: Please don’t hate me.

  The problem is that I don’t hate him – I hate myself …

  His last message is shorter still: I love you.

  … because I love him too. Still.

  RUBY

  The others get back just as I’m finishing my make-up. Ruffling my fingers through the back of the hair that I hate, I figure I’ll do. As I’ve told Kaz a thousand times, it isn’t what you’ve got that matters, it’s how you work it.

  The thought of facing Kaz jabs at my insides like someone’s out there working a Ruby Kalinski voodoo doll. I can’t stop thinking about how we left things last night – jab – after I took my rage at myself out on the person I love the most – jab, jab, jab – how I made my best friend cry because I couldn’t – carving knife of guilt straight to the heart.

  I have got to make this right.

  KAZ

  Ruby emerges from the tent dressed in her ubiquitous cut-offs and the string vest she bought last week from the Army & Navy Store, bright purple bra contrasting beneath. She’s wearing a sweep of khaki eyeliner to match the vest, but it looks fresher, cleaner than yesterday’s. When she sees me, she repositions the two kirby grips she’s holding in her lips to look like fangs then gives me a vampire smile as she twists her hair away from her face.

  This is the Ruby I’m used to.

  “Present for you.” I hold out a crumpled brown bag that she falls on like a starving seagull, ripping the paper in her haste to get to what’s inside. It’s not a pretty sight, but it’s a welcome one – my plan for today is to make sure Ruby eats more than she drinks. I’m not making any excuses for her, but I don’t think yesterday’s alcohol consumption helped matters.

  “How are you feeling?” I ask, sitting next to her on the grass in front of our tent.

  “A bajillionty times better thanks to you.” Ruby looks around, as if checking we’re alone. We’re not, but the others are clustered on the other side of the dead fire. “And I’m sorry. So sorry. I’m sober and using my indoor voice and” – she reaches out to lay her hands on my shoulders, tilting me towards her so I can see how earnest she is – “I get why you tried to protect me from Stu and that’s what I thought I was doing with Tom, only I’m sorry, because it’s not very protective to shout such mean stuff at you and a lot of it wasn’t really that true, except about his trousers, and if you want to be with Tom—” She stops as I start to shake, my eyes squeezed shut against the tears that are welling up. “Kaz? Are you all right? What’s wrong? Oh God, I’m so sorry.”

  I shake my head and a fragment of a teardrop flies from the corner of my eye. I don’t say anyth
ing, but I don’t need to. Ruby’s there already, her arms around me so that no one else will know I’m crying. Sniffing, dabbing at my nose with one of the napkins that Ruby’s shoved at me, I sit back up and face her.

  “You were right. Tom’s seeing someone else.”

  Ruby’s face is a battlefield of emotions – despair, triumph, sympathy, sadness – before she settles on the safest, the one she’s always latched on to because it’s the easiest to feel.

  Anger.

  “What a cockwomble!” Ruby gently punches her fist into her palm. “Want me to hurt him? I know how to make it look like an accident…”

  RUBY

  At least she can laugh. That’s got to count for something. We hug again and when Kaz gives me a squeeze, she whispers her own apology.

  “Sorry I didn’t listen to you.”

  I squeeze her tight. “Don’t worry about it. No harm done, right? Unless you want me to cause harm? I was serious about hurting him.”

  KAZ

  But Ruby could never cause Tom the kind of pain that he has caused me.

  13 • DAMMIT

  KAZ

  The others had already left camp when we emerged from our tent after sorting out supplies for the day ahead, then I end up losing Ruby in the queue for the arena. It’s easy to do with someone her size, and five years of this happening on a semi-regular basis has made me philosophical – it’s not as if she’ll have gone anywhere other than through the gate.

  Crowds of people are pressing in around me and I let myself drift through conversations that sound so much like the ones Ruby and I have been sharing all summer in anticipation of this weekend.