“They might think it’s funny, but I don’t. Nobody is disrespectful to my girl. Nobody.” Choosing to temporarily ignore being labelled as his girl, I tried to calm him down by rubbing his hands in mine. After taking a few deep breaths, he stilled our hands and looked at me with an unnerving intensity.
“Thank you, Neve,” he started, placing his hands on the wall behind me, trapping me. “Thank you for being you.” He kissed my forehead. “Thank you for keeping me out of trouble.” He kissed my nose. “Thank you for being mine.” Mine? After a brief kiss, his mouth crashed into mine, taking me by surprise. His tongue snaked its way between my lips as he pressed me into the wall with the full weight of his body. When I felt his obvious arousal press into me, I knew I had to stop the situation getting any worse. I managed to twist out from under one of his arms.
“We need to talk,” I said, taking a couple of steps away from Garrett.
“What? You want to talk now?” he asked, disbelief colouring his heavy breathing.
“Yes. I need to… umm. I can’t do this, Garrett. I’m not ready for a relationship. It’s too soon. I’m still not over Jake.” So I was blaming this on Jake?
“What do you mean? Can’t you feel this? How can you say it’s too soon? You can’t decide when to fall in love.” Fuck.
“I know. But I’m not falling in love. I’m not feeling it. I’m sorry.” I know it was weak of me, apologising, but I didn’t have the heart to break his.
“Don’t lie. You are enjoying this as much as me. If you’re not ready, we can take it slower. It’s just that I can’t stop myself when I’m around you.” He had my hands in his and there was desperation in his eyes as well as his voice.
“I’m not, Garrett,” I admitted. “I really like you as a friend, but that’s as much as I want.”
“You can’t change your mind after leading me on like you have,” he shouted, his calm veneer disappearing with every word. “I’ve treated you well. I bought you that dress, took you to the god-damn Ritz, for fuck’s sake.” He held my hands so tightly I was starting to worry about how I would get away.
“I didn’t mean to lead you on. That was never my intention. Honestly. I think it’s best if I go home now.” Trying to pull my hands from his, I stepped back, but he was not willing to give up so easily. He tugged me to him and tried to kiss me again. “Garret, stop. Please.”
“You all right, love?” a deep voice asked. I looked up and saw a couple of middle-aged men a few feet away. Garrett pulled back enough to let me get my hands free and step away.
“Yes, thanks,” I said, determined to take advantage of my good Samaritans. “Goodnight, Garrett.” I walked away, in the same direction the couple were walking, knowing his upbringing meant he was unlikely to cause more of a scene. Thankful once more for my decision to wear flat shoes, I hurried along the path until I got to the nearest steps which would take me back up to the main road.
Hailing a passing cab, I didn’t allow myself to relax until we were halfway back to uni.
Turning onto my corridor, I heard voices coming from the kitchen; I was sure one of them was Kema’s. Pausing in the doorway, what I saw made me jealous. Ruby had her back to me, stirring something in a pan on the hob, whilst Kema played with her hair. It was a scene of loving intimacy and reminded me of the times Jake would play with my hair, winding it round and round his callused fingers. My heart threatened to burst from my chest as it filled with memories. With love. How could Garrett even come close to what Jake had meant to me? Still meant to me. The deep breath I took to stop myself crying caused Kema to turn round.
“Hi, Neve. You been out?” She continued to play with Ruby’s hair, as though she couldn’t stop herself from touching her.
“Yeah, just for a drink in town.” I didn’t want to tell Kema, of all people, that I had yet more boy troubles.
“How’s it going with the American?” Ruby asked, turning to pour what looked like soup into a couple of bowls.
“Umm, I wasn’t feeling it so it’s going no further.”
“Good. I had bad vibes about him. How’s life otherwise?” I followed as the two of them sat at the table.
“Okay, I suppose. I still don’t know that many people. And now that I don’t have Garrett—”
“Do you want us to get you some friends?” Kema interrupted in her usual no-nonsense tone.
“No, it’s just—”
“Look, no judgement. It can be difficult to get to know people, that’s all. And that’s where we can help, isn’t it?” she asked, looking at Ruby.
“Oh, yeah, we know loads of people. It’s English and American Studies you do, isn’t it?” Ruby was already texting some unknown person. “You’ll love Millie; she’s in your English class.” Her phone cheeped. “She’ll keep a look out for you tomorrow. She’s got silver hair. You can’t miss her.” I vaguely recalled a girl with silver hair who sat on the opposite side of the lecture hall. Within a few seconds, her phone cheeped again. “And that’s Mickey. He’s in your American Studies class. As camp as a field of tents but an absolute darling. He says he already knows who you are!” Wondering how he knew me when I had no idea who he was, I was amazed that Ruby was able to seemingly sort out my social issues so easily. If only my love-life could be so easily resolved.
I made my way to my room after a few more minutes of chat with the girls, feeling a little more positive. However, once I’d shut the door, the reality of what had happened with Garrett hit me. He wasn’t going to just let me walk away. Was he?
Lying in bed that night, I thought about how much life had changed. What was the decision that triggered it all? Was there a single catalyst? Moving to Brighton without Cass? Being friendly to Garrett? Not getting on my hands and knees, begging Jake to change his mind? There were no answers, just one certainty: I needed to be in control of the changes in my life.
I down the shot and take a long drink of my pint to relieve the burning in my throat. With no work tomorrow, I’m determined to make the most of alcohol’s memory-eliminating properties.
“God, how long is it since we did this?” Flynn grins and clinks his bottle on my glass. “I wish you’d come up to Birmingham sometimes and stay at mine. We’d have a bloody amazing time!” He knows the reason I can’t spend the night away from home, but I get why he wishes it was different. Our friendship has changed over the last few months; it was inevitable, really. Once he started going out with Cass, we spent less time together. Once I started seeing Neve that was even more the case. And, in many ways, he’s growing up, moving on. I doubt he will ever come back and live full-time in our small town. It’s just not exciting, not cosmopolitan enough for the man he’s becoming. Yeah, he’s still Flynn, but he’s a smoother, more confident version of the boy I grew up with.
His phone call last week was a case in point. I’d deliberately avoided contacting him since ending things with Neve. After all, I’d want the bollocks of the bloke who hurt Grace the way I hurt Neve. On a plate. After pulling them off with my bare hands. But not Flynn.
After telling me that he thought I’d done the wrong thing for both me and Neve, he said he didn’t want our friendship to end because of it. Somehow, he convinced me that I wasn’t the selfish bastard I believed myself to be and, by the end of it, things were okay between us.
Other than a muttered “She’s coping,” when I asked how she was, we have avoided discussing all things Neve tonight and there’s a semblance of normality about the evening. Neither of us is interested in the girls who are flaunting themselves around our table, supposedly en route to the loo, all short skirts and too much makeup. God, if only they knew what blokes really thought.
“What are you doing for your birthday?”
“Hadn’t really thought about it,” I replied. “I’m not that bothered, to be honest. I might treat Josh and Grace to an Indian, but that’ll be about it.”
“If you go at the weekend, me and Cass can come over, if you want. Or maybe we could go for a drink sepa
rately?”
“Sure, that’d be good, mate.” It would. Who else would I spend my twentieth birthday with otherwise? Mum? Her dickhead boyfriend?
As we take another drinking break from the conversation, I watch a couple at the bar. The bloke looks like a real twat, his shaved head and football shirt standing out amongst everyone else who is dressed like it’s a Friday night out. Which it is. The girl with him clearly got the Friday-night memo and is barely able to stand, thanks to her skyscraper heels and the numerous drinks she’s obviously consumed. The colour of her hair reminds me of Neve, and I can’t stop my brain thinking about the evenings we spent here. Drinking. Laughing. Kissing. I can almost taste her.
“Oi, are you looking at my girl?” The twat walks over to our table and I look around. Shit, he’s talking to me.
“What? No, mate, I was just staring into space, you know?” The girl in question joins her boyfriend and smiles at me and Flynn.
“Well, I think you were giving her the eye and I don’t fucking like it!” He has obviously downed more than a couple of drinks and there’s a definite edge of menace to his voice. “Don’t you fucking flirt with them, you stupid bitch,” he adds, yanking her by the arm.
“Hang on, mate,” Flynn says, standing up.
I join him. “There’s no need for that. Are you okay, love?” I ask the girl.
“Don’t you fucking talk to her. She’s taken. She don’t need wankers like you talking to her. She knows her place.”
“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here, Jay. And you can’t say who I can and can’t talk to.” His reply is to grab her by the chin but, before he does anything else, I punch him. Hard. Nose-breakingly hard. The spurt of blood gives me a strange sense of satisfaction and I pull my arm back, ready for more. Flynn grabs me and pulls me to one side.
“Leave it, Jake. Come on,” he says, trying to lead me toward the door. Unfortunately, Twat-face has other ideas and tries to hit me. That’s all it takes for me to have another go, and I have youth and fitness on my side. The girl’s screams are all that stop me pummelling him into a heap on the floor. Stepping back to catch my breath, I see the crowd which has formed around us. “Come on, Jake. Before the police get here.” Flynn’s words bring me back to the real world. Fuck. I allow him to shepherd me out of the pub and down the road.
“Sorry. That’s kind of put a damper on the evening, hasn’t it?” It’s a weak joke, but I’m embarrassed about how easily I lost it.
“Yeah, well, he was a fuckwit. But you did lose it. What caused it?”
“From the back she reminded me of Neve. When he grabbed her like that, I couldn’t stop myself. It was like he was doing it to Neve.” Head in hands, I lower myself and sit on the kerb. Flynn joins me.
“Why don’t you ring her? I swear I’ll kill you if you hurt her again, but you love her and she loves you. You’re both unhappy.” He sighs. “I don’t get it.”
“I can’t. Fuck knows I want to. But I can’t.”
“That’s your opinion. But if your head is still so filled with her that you pull a stunt like that tonight, I think you’re wrong. You’re not getting over it. You’re getting worse. Aren’t you?” Maybe he’s right, but that still doesn’t mean I’m going back to messing up Neve’s life. I stand, the chilled air and the serious talk negating the effects of the alcohol.
“I’m going home. Sorry it’s ended like this. Give me a call when you’re next home and we’ll see if we can manage a whole night without me getting into trouble.” Flynn leans into the shoulder-bump I offer and turns it into a man-hug.
“No problem, mate. See you soon.” Smiling sincerely, he claps me on the shoulder and walks in the direction of his house.
I sit there for ages, thinking about how things have changed. Back when we were kids, it was just so much easier. We’d mess around at the park or each other’s houses, just having a laugh. Life was fun. God, we were so naïve then. I wish I could go back and tell the twelve-year-old me to make the most of every single one of those moments because they would soon be ripped out of his life.
Letting myself into the house, I can almost see the fog of weed clouding the air. I can certainly smell it. Not again. Avoiding the raucous jeering and loud music coming from the lounge, and knowing the kitchen will probably be filled with overflowing ashtrays and beer cans, I go straight upstairs.
The door to Grace’s room is closed; hopefully she has managed to avoid whatever shit is going on downstairs. Josh wisely made arrangements to stay at a mate’s house. Although he seems to spend more time with Callum’s family than he does here, who can blame him? But, even though he’s still only a kid, I feel happier when he’s here if I’m not. I worry that even the lock I fixed to the inside of Grace’s door may not be enough protection from some of the gang Mum has now made a part of the household.
After taking a piss and brushing my teeth, I go to my room and close the door. Before I’ve even got my shirt off, there is a quiet knock which can only be Grace. Nobody else knocks, let alone quietly, in this house. I open the door and let my pyjama-clad sister in.
“Can I sleep in Josh’s bed? I don’t want to be by myself.” Taking in her wide eyes and pale complexion, I feel my insides tense and my fists clench. If I ask her what has gone on, she’ll only get upset and then she won’t sleep, so I school my face into nothing more than friendly, brotherly concern.
“Of course you can. You could have come in earlier. You don’t need permission.” I know it probably sounds weird, wrong even, for a seventeen-year-old girl to sleep in her twenty-year-old brother’s bedroom. But, hey, welcome to our world. If she’s too scared to sleep in her own room, I’m not going to refuse her, am I? I can’t.
Grace’s hug before she climbs into the tangled mess of Josh’s unmade bed calms me. She rolls over to give me the privacy I need to remove my socks and jeans.
“’Night, Grace.”
“’Night, Jake.”
This is why I had to end things with Neve.
This is my life.
Garrett was conspicuous only in his absence over the next few days.
Despite feeling a sense of trepidation every time I opened the door to the lecture hall, Garrett’s usual seat, next to my usual seat, was empty. I adopted a new place, next to Millie who, as Ruby had promised, was lovely. She came from Bristol and had a soft Somerset accent. Combined with her silver-grey hair and multiple piercings, she was as far from Garrett as a friend could be. With no question as to why, she welcomed me into her circle of friends, ensuring I now had someone to be with in lectures, seminars and all of the times in between if I wanted.
Mickey was something else entirely. As Ruby had warned, he was the most effeminate guy I had ever met. And I loved him from the moment he greeted me with a bear hug outside the lecture hall.
“It felt like a blind date, so I thought I’d better carry something so you’d know who I was,” he laughed, holding out a single red rose. I took a sniff of its perfume and smiled.
“Why, thank you, kind sir. You sure know the way to a girl’s heart.” I fluttered my eyelashes, enjoying the playfulness.
“Oh, I’m just going to love being your BFF,” Mickey declared before making us walk in to the lecture, arm in arm. He moved with the confidence of one who has had to earn it and I knew, without him telling me, that he had probably had a rough time at school because of his sexuality.
Over lunch, he admitted he had first noticed me in the cafeteria, not in class. Well, he had noticed Garrett and then me. It was hardly surprising; even I couldn’t deny that Garrett was ridiculously attractive. I found myself opening up and telling Mickey the whole sorry story of how I came to be friendless and loveless after a month at university.
“That’s just because it’s taken you a month to find me, honey. Now, are you going to the Vamps and Pussy party tomorrow?”
I almost choked on my drink. “The what?”
“The Vamps and Pussy party. It’s for Halloween; you know, vampires and cat
s. Witches are probably welcome, too, if that’s what floats your boat. Ruby’s going, with that badass girlfriend of hers.” Smiling at his oh-so-accurate description of Kema, I thought about it. Why not?
“I’m in. What are you going as?” His smile became huge.
“Oh, babe, that’s fabulous. I was thinking of going as a vampire, but one of the sparkling Twilight ones, not the ‘I vant to drink your blood’ type. Ooh, ooh, how about being my Bella?” As he rattled on about cheap wigs and coordinating outfits, I smiled at his enthusiasm. A party could be just what I needed.
The next night, I buzzed Mickey in and he joined Ruby, Kema and I in the kitchen, where we were drinking a cheap bottle of sparkling wine. He hadn’t been joking about going for the sparkly look; every millimetre of skin was covered in a glistening powder, giving him an ethereal glow at odds with his size.
Mickey and I had visited countless charity shops that afternoon, searching for the perfect outfits to match our characters. We had ended up going with the wedding day look after finding him a tuxedo jacket and bow tie. By some miracle of coincidence, we had also found a 1920s-style wedding dress which, after I had cut it to mid-thigh length, fit me perfectly and looked a lot less grandmotherly. I had managed to coax a cheap black wig into something like waves and had kept my makeup super pale, other than for smoky eyes.
“Here you go, honey. Just in case they don’t realise who we are.” Mickey handed over an ID card-size badge of the book’s famous cover, pinning an identical badge onto his lapel. I smiled; it wasn’t just to help others identify us, it meant I wasn’t alone. I was with someone. After giving him a huge kiss, I pinned my badge onto the shoulder of my dress.
The beep of a horn made us down the remains of our plastic beakers before running downstairs to the cab.
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