Authors: Eleanor Wood
If I’d been expecting to go back to school miraculously transformed, I was wrong. From the moment I see Amie Bellairs first thing on Monday morning, the real world comes crashing back in. She’s got stitches in her lip, her nose taped up, and an attitude that screams ‘fuck off’. I don’t even dare ask how she is. As soon as Lexy arrives, they take up their usual place on the sofa and the bitching commences.
I can’t help but strain my ears to hear what they’re saying. I hate myself for wondering whether Lexy saw Josh over half term. I know Josh laughed it off as a drunken snog at a house party, but who knows what’s really going on with him? I’m sure he only brought it up to piss me off; for someone I’ve known most of my life, he’s hard to figure out. Still talking, Lexy catches me looking and shoots me a lethal evil.
Anyway, for the last week or so, Josh’s usual presence in my dreams has weirdly been replaced by the beautiful stranger at the Trouble Every Day gig. I’d think that this was progress in the Getting Over Josh project, if not for the fact that progressing onto a crush on someone whose name I don’t even know seems more than a little bit tragic.
‘Hey, Nats!’
Lexy and Amie roll their eyes as I jump up and give Nathalie a big hug, even though they’re all air kisses and long-lost-sister-type greetings every single morning.
‘I’m so glad you’re back. I’ve got absolutely
tons
to tell you.’
Nathalie’s eyes widen as I fill her in on my half term. I am mid-sentence when Elyse and Melanie walk into the common room.
‘Hey, Sorana.’ Elyse doesn’t bother to keep her voice down or even acknowledge that there is anyone else in the room. ‘God, I miss our Krispy Kreme and DVD slob-out sessions already – I can’t believe half term’s really over.’
‘Yeah, I know what you mean… Hi, Mel – how are you doing?’
‘Urgh, I
don’t
want to be back at school today.’ She smiles. ‘I’d much rather we were still at your house.’
I’m relieved that nothing has changed between us now we’re back in the public arena of school. I know that Amie and Lexy are staring straight at us and listening intently to every word. I can’t help looking over at them to gauge their reaction, my triumphant bitch-face firmly in place.
When I meet Amie’s eye, her face is aghast, way beyond what I was expecting. She looks like she’s seen a murder or something. I am shocked into looking away, strangely disappointed.
‘So, um, you two both know Nathalie,’ I mumble. ‘I was just saying we’ve got loads to fill her in on…’
Ignoring me entirely, Elyse pulls her phone out of her pocket and starts texting furiously. I look to Nathalie and Mel, and give them both an exasperated little half-smile. Then, just as Elyse is putting her phone away, mine beeps, unmistakeably. Elyse grins at me. I freeze as my hand automatically reaches for my phone.
‘Hey, bitches – the gang’s all here!’ Shimmi barges in and single-handedly fills the silence.
It’s not until I am alone in the corridor on my way to Spanish that I have the chance to read Elyse’s message.
‘Friday night – my house for a Trouble Every Day party. Keep the whole weekend free. E X’
‘Elyse, I’ve already told you – I can’t.’
‘You haven’t even asked! I know your mum will be cool with it; it’ll be fine.’
Although the tone of our conversation is kind of jokey, I know Elyse really is annoyed that I can’t come over on Friday night. She refuses to let it lie, as if she can change the facts by sheer force of character. We’re all eating our lunch together in the pavilion – I suggested it for Nathalie’s sake – and Elyse has been keeping on at me about this for ages.
‘Seriously, though,’ I say half-heartedly, ‘you should all do it anyway. You two and Shimmi and Nathalie, definitely.’
Elyse looks unconvinced, and I feel mean that I secretly hope they won’t really do anything without me.
‘I’m not surprised you’re blowing us out,’ Shimmi chips in mischievously. ‘If I were you, I’d rather spend my Friday night with Hot Josh than with us lot, too.’
Elyse’s eyes narrow as if I’m lying. I’ve barely mentioned Josh to her, but that’s only because I’ve kind of gone off him since I saw the guy at the gig. It just didn’t seem important, but now I look like I’m being sneaky. A look of real anger flares up in her eyes and I find myself rushing to explain so that she’ll know I’m telling the truth.
‘I told you – it’s not like that. It’s kind of a belated family birthday party. The Greens were away in Tenerife for half term so they missed my birthday – they’re bringing my present and my mum’s making a special dinner and everything…’
‘That sounds lovely,’ Mel ventures, before Elyse glares at her.
‘It’ll be OK but I’d honestly rather come to your house.’
As I say it, I realise it’s true. For the first time ever, I would genuinely rather hang out with my friends than see Josh. I know for a fact that he’s also been told to keep Friday night free on pain of death – but I don’t really care.
‘OK, fine, I get it,’ Elyse says.
It’s obviously not fine at all. I really wish there was something I could do about it, but there genuinely isn’t. If there was, I’d do it in a second – I can’t stand to have Elyse angry with me like this.
Elyse stares at me until I look away; when she sees that I’m not going to say anything more, she ignores me as she carries on talking. ‘Shimmi, are
you
free on Friday night?’
‘Yeah, I’m so free it’s embarrassing – count me in, for sure.’
‘Good. That’s settled, then.’
There is a pause that is way too long for my liking. I have this horrible sense that I’m already on thin ice with Elyse, but I can’t bring myself just to keep quiet.
‘And Nathalie as well,’ I say when nobody else does.
‘Oh. Yeah. What are you doing Friday night, Nathalie?’ Elyse eventually asks.
‘Well, usually… I mean, I don’t know. Nothing.’
‘I guess you’re coming to our house, then. Right, I’ve got to get to Remedial Maths. Are you coming, Sorana?’
‘You go on ahead. I’ll meet you in the common room, OK?’
I know I should go with her straight away, but I feel like I need a minute to get myself together. I don’t know why I can’t seem to think straight when Elyse is around – she’s so dazzling, I know I would do anything just to be around her. I’m so happy we’re friends now, but occasionally I feel overwhelmed by it. Just in tiny flashes that bubble up like warnings, like this one.
When Elyse and Melanie leave, it’s like the lights have been switched off. It’s just me, Shimmi and Nathalie again – and that just doesn’t feel like enough any more. There is a silence as we size each other up anew.
‘Sorana?’ says Nathalie eventually. ‘Are you
sure
you can’t come on Friday night?’
‘Not you as well!’
‘Look, it’s not that. It’s just… I don’t really want to go without you.’
Shimmi lets out a guffaw and rolls her eyes up so high I could swear they turn around in her skull.
‘Shut up, Shimmi,’ Nathalie goes on undeterred for once. ‘You must know what I’m talking about. It’s so obvious. Mel’s all right, but it’s Elyse… She doesn’t like me. She doesn’t want me to go round there.’
‘For God’s sake, Nathalie!’ Shimmi explodes. ‘Just get over it, and stop being so selfish. I’m sick of walking on fucking eggshells all the time with you.’
To be perfectly honest, I’m inclined to agree – just a tiny bit.
‘Don’t worry, Nats. There’s really nothing to stress about. What Shimmi’s
trying
to say is, you can be a bit paranoid at times – that’s all. It’ll be fine. You’ll have fun – I promise.’
When Friday night rolls around, it’s already a different story from the last time the Greens were here, and they haven’t even arrived yet. For a start, I’m in manky old jeans, my Trouble Every Day T-shirt and zero make-up. I could barely be bothered to brush my hair, and it could certainly do with a wash. I feel like Elyse is in my head, making me feel guilty about this – so my outfit is kind of the modern girl’s equivalent to a hair shirt or similar. After my earlier protestations that I didn’t even care about seeing Josh tonight, I know it would be too hypocritical to get dressed up and make the most of it.
Despite this inner penance, I’m trying to keep this change of heart to myself – although it must be obvious just from looking at me that something is up. As I knew it would be a non-starter, I haven’t even mentioned the possibility of going to the twins’ house to my mum, so there’s no point in making her feel bad about it. She’s already asked me if I’m planning on getting changed, but I can’t be bothered. I kind of want Josh to realise that I don’t care – not that he’d notice.
Anyway, this is supposed to be my night. Everyone’s made an effort to give me a lovely evening, and it’s not their fault that I wish it weren’t happening – what kind of a spoiled bitch am I to be so ungrateful all of a sudden? The irony is that usually I really like hanging out at home with my family – tragic, I know.
‘Right,’ my mum says as I slope into the kitchen, ‘since we’re making your favourite spaghetti and meatballs tonight, do you fancy giving me a hand?’
‘Yeah, cool – if I can be in charge of the music.’
‘You’re on. Oh, and by the way…’ She lowers her voice like she’s divulging some great secret. ‘…Pete’s invented a new peanut-butter cheesecake for pudding – don’t tell him I told you!’
Even though I never want to feel as if I’m missing out, and half of me really wishes I could have gone to Elyse and Melanie’s tonight because it probably would have been great, I have to admit that staying at home isn’t exactly the worst thing ever. I start chopping tomatoes, mushrooms and peppers while Mum rolls up her sleeves and makes the meatballs. It’s always noisy in our house – the kitchen radio’s on, I can hear Pete watching the news headlines on TV in the living room, and Daisy’s lame Disney Channel boy-band-type music from upstairs – but it’s kind of reassuring. I sneak up behind Mum and give her a quick hug while she stands at the cooker.
‘God, when did you get so much taller than me, child?’ she grumbles good-naturedly as I let her go.
‘Ooh, can I join in?’ comes a decidedly mocking male voice from behind us.
I turn scarlet before I even turn around to see Josh’s face, but my mum just laughs and swipes him round the head with her tea towel.
‘Of course you can, darling,’ she says, wrapping an arm around his waist on the way to the fridge. ‘I didn’t hear the troops arriving over all this racket.’
‘Pete had better watch out,’ I mutter, trying to deflect from the fact that I have been caught so unawares. ‘Hi, Josh.’
The rest of his family come crashing into the kitchen behind him, and Josh’s eyes meet mine for a second. We survey each other from a distance, before his mum descends on me with effusive praise for my ‘interesting, scruffy-chic’ outfit and hands me an excitingly fancy-looking wrapped present. If there ever was a moment, it passes.
‘Sorana, my love,’ she proclaims. ‘You didn’t think I’d miss your actual birthday and then turn up empty-handed, did you?’
As I scrabble into the wrapping paper, even my mum gasps as she sees the Tiffany blue underneath. I open the little box to find a beautiful silver chain, holding a pendant engraved with an ‘S’ on it. Tina bats off my stammered tidal wave of thanks.
‘Well, if I can’t spoil my lovely god-daughter on her seventeenth birthday, then when can I?’
She’s not officially my godmother, but I’m not going to be the one to point that out. As I fasten the chain around my neck, I kind of wish I were wearing something a bit nicer to go with it – Elyse would say this was typical of my fickle Gemini nature.
Whatever the reason – and I’m not saying that Josh is it – as we’re all toasting my belated birthday celebration with glasses of Prosecco that’s already making my nose tingle, I start to feel pretty happy to have been forced to stay in for the night. Then the doorbell rings like somebody’s leaning on it. Pete puts down his drink to go and answer.
‘Good evening, you must be Mr Salem?’
‘Mr Salem?’ he repeats, obviously displeased. ‘I take it you’re looking for Sorana or Daisy, then.’
Weird. It’s a man’s voice that I don’t recognise, but I have a feeling that this is something to do with me. Daisy and I are the only people in this house with the surname Salem. ‘Mr Salem’, our dad, lives in California with his American wife, and we see him about twice a year. When our parents got divorced – when I was really young and Daisy was still properly tiny – Mum changed back to her maiden name, Lucy Armstrong. She’s not married to Pete, so he’s got a different surname again, Pete Goff. Quite the modern family.
I creep out into the hallway. The strange man on our doorstep seems slightly flustered by his faux pas and just stands there blinking for a moment. He’s quite a bit older than my parents and wearing a mildly embarrassing jumper. I don’t recognise him at all. I’m still not sure what’s going on until Shimmi, Elyse and Melanie step out of the shadows from behind him.
‘Hi, Pete. Is Sorana in?’
Looking just as puzzled and a whole world more pissed off, Mum practically pushes Pete out of the way to get to the front door.
‘What’s going on here, Pete?’
The man in the jumper speaks. ‘Hello, there. I’m sorry just to turn up on your doorstep so rudely like this; I should really explain myself. My name’s Nicolas Johansson. I’m Elyse and Melanie’s dad.’
‘I see… Yes,
hello
, Shimmi.’
‘Oh dear, I do apologise – you’re obviously busy; I didn’t realise you had guests. Anyway, Elyse and Melanie wanted to ask Sorana over to our house this weekend, a little sleepover party to say thanks for your hospitality over half term. I was just down the road to pick up Shimmi, and the girls wanted to check if Sorana could come, so she didn’t miss out.’
It’s sort of weird to think that the twins have a dad – I mean, it’s not like I thought they lived off their wits in the woods or anything, but they just seem like they’re
above
that sort of thing. They even look completely different with their dad here – like these normal, wholesome girls out of an advert or something. They must really have done a number on him. I can’t imagine my mum ever playing along with something like this on my behalf. She’d tell me it was bad manners and there was no way we were bothering strangers in their own home on a Friday evening.