The Forest of Adventures (#1 of The Knight Trilogy) (14 page)

“How are you doing, Mina?” she
asked, full of genuine concern.

“You know.” I shrugged, unsure
of what answer she wanted me to give.

“It’s weird isn’t it? I don’t
think any of us really know how to act.”

“I don’t think there’s a
particular way that we’re supposed to act.” I said, picking up my
sandwich and scanning the room hoping that she might pick up on the
sign that I didn’t really want to talk about
it
.

“I feel kind of guilty just
getting on with things. Do you know what I mean?”

Daisy’s words seemed rehearsed
and a feeling of let-down grew as the conversation started with the
subject of Sam and me. I didn’t answer her straight away, her
question had hit a raw nerve that I hadn’t realised was quite so
developed. I thought about the times that I’d spent with Blake and
how when I was with him I could go for hours without even thinking
of Sam, how we very rarely talked about him in any other context
than him being my close friend. Everybody, including Mum it seemed,
had the expectation that I should be walking around like a weeping
widow and part of me felt slightly guilty about disappointing them.
And Blake and I, well we’d done nothing wrong. We hadn’t even
kissed.

“There isn’t really much else
to do apart from
get on
with things is there?” I offered her
a weak smile.

“Are you coming to the Spring
Ball then?”

It came out an innocent
question but something must have shown in my face. Looking
mortified she gushed,

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry; I
just thought that it might be a good opportunity for us all to have
some time together.”

“It’s O.K Daisy. Thanks for
asking me. I’m not sure. It might be a bit weird without…”

“But we’ll be there. We’ll be
your date. It would be really nice for us all to spend some time
together. We’ve all missed you what with you taking yourself
off.”

I smiled in defeat and Daisy
clapped her hands together in victory. I didn’t feel quite so
excited. Even though she hadn’t mentioned his name once, I couldn’t
help but feel there’d been a hidden dig about me and Blake.

“O.K. but look, don’t expect me
to be much company – and you have to promise to come round and fix
me up. You know I can’t be trusted to dress myself for these sorts
of things.”

“It’s a date. Look I’m really
sorry Mina, I’ve got to go and copy more tickets and get the memos
put in the registers all before bell.”

I was left alone with a tray
full of food that I couldn’t face and the knowledge that I’d now
have to spend the whole evening playing the part of the tragic
heroine. The thought of home, bed and book suddenly seemed the most
divine thing in the world.

The day of the Spring Ball came
round quicker than I’d expected, and as it went on I began to
seriously regret that I’d agreed to go to the stupid thing. The
College Balls were nothing like the American style proms with their
glamorous dresses, fruit punch and wholesome fun. More like
socials, the Balls were held in the very dark backroom of some
dodgy local pub which the ‘Ball Team’ would attempt to heavily
disguise with a few bunches of balloons and a sparkly streamer
curtain behind the stage. It was cheap and this was the main
requirement - that as well as the landlord turning a blind eye to
serving the under-age copious pints of larger and double whisky
chasers and allowing us to illegally smoke indoors. A handful of
the younger teaching staff would come along but whereas this should
have led to a more sober and controlled evening, it often just lead
to more shocking behaviour and over-drinking. The Monday morning
rumours about students getting off with teachers were as much part
of the ‘fun’ as everything else. I knew that all of this mixed with
my emotional state was a dangerous combination and I didn’t
particularly want to be one of the main talking points afterwards,
but at the same time the temptation of drunken oblivion had its own
appeal.

Daisy came round at six, laden
down with an armful of frock and her overnight bags. As she crashed
into my room, her bright smile leading the way, I was pleased that
we’d arranged for her to sleepover because it all at once felt like
the first piece of normal that I’d had since the accident. Her
excitement was infectious and before I knew it, I was letting her
dress me and straighten my hair.

“You’re alright about tonight,
aren’t you?” she asked as she tugged at another stubborn curl.

“Yep, fine. Don’t go overboard
– but I am almost looking forward to it.”

And I was; the thought of
losing myself in overloud music and cheap gin in the company of
friends was beginning to be a welcome door of escape. A weird
feeling of freedom began to come over me as I realised that for the
first time in three years I was going to be going as Mina and not
Mina&Sam. I looked in the mirror. I had to give it to Daisy
she’d done a good job, I was almost unrecognisable.

We arrived early as Daisy
wanted to help the boys set up. Making camp in the corner by the
stage, I was hit with butterflies and cursed myself for agreeing to
come. Sara was already flitting around, adjusting balloons, talking
to the security guys on the door and checking the microphone,
giving the impression of being a busy little bee on a mission and
leaving me with nothing to do but sit on my hands and wait until it
started.

Thankfully, within half an hour
the room began to fill and somebody flicked off the main lights,
plunging us all into semi-anonymity. By nine, the boys had started
their set and the dancing and drinking were in full swing. Sympathy
drinks had been brought to my table throughout the evening by
friends wanting to connect but not stay around before the
conversation got awkward. It suited me fine. I hadn’t had to leave
the little nest of dark I’d made out of the deposited coats and
bags all evening but suddenly the room seemed impossibly hot, the
music unbearably loud and everybody’s happiness made me want to
scream.

I needed air. I grabbed the
nearest glass of gin and made my way through the sweaty jumping
bodies into the bright electric lights of the hallway. My escape
seemed to be going well until I was horrifically snagged by several
of our girlfriends who, waiting for the toilet, thought that maybe
now was a good time to have a deep and meaningful. I smiled,
nodding my head and brushing my ear as if to say I couldn’t quite
hear them. I walked on hopeful that they would be too far gone to
make much of it. At last, with much relief, the exit sign with the
little green man running away from the horror of it all, shone out
above the door and I pushed through into the glorious quiet and
dark of outside.

In relief, I flung my back
against the wall and tipped my head upwards towards the stars. The
evening was clear and cold.

“Congratulations, you made it,”
Delta spoke out of the darkness.

She was also leant against the
wall, cigarette in one hand, bottle of Becks beer in the other.

“You want a smoke?” She held
out a freshly lit cigarette.

On the very few times I’d tried
smoking, I’d been gripped by a horrible green-need to puke but
something impulsive challenged me to do it, to rebel against myself
and so I reached out a hand to take the glowing stick from Delta’s
ring-heavy hand. I placed it to my lips and dragged on it deeply,
feeling the sweet sickly burning smoke move down into my lungs
before passing it back out like a ghost slipping into the cool
spring air. Instantly, the tunnelling nausea shot into my head and
the scene in front of me seemed to swim as if I’d thrown myself
into a pool of water. The sense of committing such harm felt
dangerously sweet.

“Thanks.” I looked over and I
smiled at her.

Even after the event of the
cryptic message, I still didn’t know Delta that well, but what I
did know of her I liked. She was an outsider having only joined our
school in year eleven when her family had moved over from America.
She seemed to like it that she was mainly left to herself.

“I’m sorry about Sam. Must be
strange not knowing where you stand, everybody expecting you to
behave in a certain way.”

Her bluntness was refreshing. I
drank down a big gulp of my gin hoping to calm the nausea.

“It’s not as hard as you might
think.” The statement came out brutal and honest and it felt good
to say it.

We stood silent in comfortable
company. When the cigarette was finished she stamped the butt under
her shoe and drained the last of her beer.

“Good speaking with you, Mina.
We should do it more often.”

She met my eyes and walked off
leaving me alone smiling to myself. I wondered if that was what
Delta considered a deep and meaningful conversation.

I drained my glass. The thought
of going back in didn’t appeal and the realisation that I was drunk
came over me making me find myself hilarious.

“What are you doing standing
outside? It’s freezing!” Blake’s voice took me off guard causing me
to snap out of my hysterics.

“What are
you
doing
here?” I asked strangely irritated.

“Rescuing you, by the looks of
it?”

“
Rescuing me!
From
what?” I asked with an increasing level of annoyance.

“From yourself.”

He smiled hoping to soften me
but it just made me feel even more cross with him.

“And what exactly do you mean
by that?”

“Nothing, I didn’t mean
anything by it. Let’s go in,” he said, trying to avoid and
argument.

He put his hand around my
waist, steering me towards the door and even when I’d clearly given
in, he didn’t let go giving me the distinct impression that I’d
been taken prisoner. I stood passively by his side, happy to be
taken in hand as he scanned the room looking for Daisy and Sara.
The effects of the nicotine were quickly losing their earlier
glamour.

I felt Blake’s hand tense on
the small of my back as he clocked the girls sitting with the boys,
who having finished for the night and handed over to the DJ, were
lounging on the benches, pints in hand, making up for lost time. I
felt a gentle nudge forward, at which they looked over to me and
then with surprise up to Blake, before casting a look at each other
which showed they weren’t exactly pleased to see him. I guessed
that Blake had noted it to because he hung back making no move to
engage in friendly greeting.

His voice dropped low and firm
in my ear, “Get your jacket, I’ll take you home.”

I made my way over to the table
feeling as if I was somehow making a walk of shame. Almost there, I
fell onto the bench in a bodged attempt to retrieve my jacket from
the floor at which a hand reached out to steady me. I was taken
aback by how aggressive it felt.

“What’s
he
doing here?”
Matt hissed under his breath.

“Oh, don’t ask me. He just
turned up. He’s rescuing me apparently.”

I looked back over to where
Blake was standing looking in the other direction, as if aware that
there was a danger of confrontation and wanting to avoid it.

“And you’re going with him?”
Matt asked accusingly.

“He’s giving me a lift
home.”

As I said it, something stopped
me making eye contact and I wondered if I looked as guilty as I
felt.

“To
his
home?”

“I thought Daisy was staying at
yours?” Joe stepped in, trying to calm the growing tension.

“Change of plan. My Mum rang
earlier. We’ve got to go out early in the morning,” Daisy chimed in
from the side.

“We can still get you home
Mina. You should stay,” Joe said, looking directly at Blake.

I knew, even with my nicotine
altitude sickness and the softened reality of gin, that
this
was the moment they were asking me to make my choice. In their
minds, if I went with Blake now, it was a public declaration that
Blake and I were together. I looked at Matt, his stare challenging
and accusing, Daisy had dropped her eyes as if embarrassed and Joe
just looked like a small child confused by all the hurt. I stood,
frozen with hesitation.

“Mina?” Blake’s voice came out
more command than question and snapped me out of my
petrifaction.

I turned to him, my body moving
towards him as naturally as flowers move towards the sun. Before I
could fully register what was happening, Matt swung round the table
squaring up to Blake.

“I’m sorry, but who exactly do
you think you are ordering her about?” Matt’s confrontation flared,
“Mina’s staying with us.”

“Of course, if that’s what she
wishes.”

Blake smiled stiffly giving
Matt no anger to work with. I knew that I should want to stay with
them, that I should tell Blake I was fine and that I’d see him in
the morning, but I didn’t want to. I wanted to get away from all of
them, as far away as possible. Desperate not to make eye contact
with anybody, I stepped towards Blake holding out my hand for his
in order to steady my exit. We turned to leave.

From behind my back, I heard
Matt roar, “Right I see! I understand it all completely now. You’re
meant to be Sam’s girl. Remember Sam? You do know he’s not dead yet
you heartless bitch?”

My hand slipped from Blake’s
and I turned back towards the now silent, watching room. It was as
if Matt had hit me. I stood there in shock, on the very precipice
of being completely speechless and losing it to a white and violent
rage. My fists clenched together with the urge to physically beat
him. Just as I felt myself moving, my fist starting to travel at
lightening speed towards Matt’s face, Blake’s reflexes sprang and
he grabbed my raised fist using it to lead me out of the room.

On the drive home we didn’t
speak and when Blake cut the engine we continued to sit silently.
It had started to rain and watching the raindrops journey down the
window provided a good excuse not to have to talk but eventually I
broke,