NOW I DON'T KNOW
The kitchen had been filled with edible refreshments and people at the start of the party, but now plates and dishes were almost empty and the only other person here was a guy who had his back to her. He was heating something up in the microwave, watching the plate inside turn round and round. Dismissing him, she looked for something tasty. Then she did a double take. The guy wasn't tall, maybe about 5'8". He was thin, and his shirt, jeans and boots had probably cost less than forty pounds in total. There was nothing outstanding about him, but she knew exactly who it was. "Hi Brad," she said. He spun round, letting her see his face. He still had spots, but his complexion had improved over the last two years. He still wore glasses, but they weren't sellotaped together anymore. His hair was longer now, but less greasy. He stared at her. "Amy?" he asked, as if he was dreaming. "Yeah," she said. "Small world, isn't it?" Amy and Brad had spent five years at the same school, in the same year. But as it was a big school - one year consisted of about five hundred people, their paths had never crossed during the first three years there. Then, in Year 10, they couldn't stop running into each other. Not only did he end up in nearly all of her classes, but her single lawyer mother was to defend Brad's single father in a case, and Amy feared their relationship wasn't entirely platonic. Brad had bugged her from the moment they met, or more accurately, collided with one another. He was the biggest klutz she had ever encountered, and, as they did their homework together while their parents talked, Amy discovered he was annoyingly intelligent too. She refused his help, of course. However, as the days passed, she grew used to him, and then, with a shock, she found she actually liked him. Romantically. He had fancied her from the beginning, and it wasn't long before they were going out. That was the start of a one-year-long relationship. And. she had to admit, it had been bliss. They found they could talk for hours, and they rubbed off on each other. Brad became less obnoxious; Amy lost her snobbery. There were no problems for them at all - until Brad wanted to go further and she didn't. He put up with her wishes for a while, but then things just exploded. Amy was fed up with the entire male species, Brad was interested in Amy's best friend, Caroline. They split up on bad terms that became worse when Brad and Caroline started going out almost immediately. For the rest of her time at school, Amy ignored them. She and Caroline called a truce, but they stopped hanging around together. She never spoke to Brad again. At the end of Year 11, Caroline and Brad were still going strong, having wild sex and intending to stay at school. Amy left, in favour of the local sixth form college. The factors that caused her to make that decision were that the courses offered at the college sounded more appealing and going there meant more freedom and a change of scenery. But she wasn't sorry to leave the couple behind. But here was Brad, back in her life again. And it was silly to not speak to him because they'd fallen out a year ago. Things had changed, and they should be able to make peace, if not become friends again. "How's things?" he asked. "Fine," she said. "College is great. How's school?" "Same as always. Boring." He bit his lip, as if he wanted to ask her something, but couldn't bring himself to say it. She had a fair idea of what it was. "Still going out with Caroline?" she asked, ever-so-casually. "No," he said. "We split up during the summer holidays. Haven't you, uh, heard from her since then?" "No. We don't see much of each other anymore. We never had a lot in common, really, and I've found new friends." "Anyone special?" he said, quietly. The microwave pinged, and he turned to open it, glad of a distraction. She thought as much. He wanted her back. It didn't surprise her. Their relationship had been great, and Brad was unlikely to find another girlfriend now Caroline had gone. And Amy knew she was looking good. She was as thin as ever, her hair was in good condition, and she had chosen her outfit carefully. Sexy but not slutty. She waited for him to take the pie out of the microwave, place it on the worktop and shut the door. "As a matter of fact, yes. He's called Simon and he's nearly twenty." He looked taken aback. She felt slightly sorry for him, but happy at the same time : she'd proved she could attract other people. But she had not expected his response again. "You're making that up." All plans to make peace flew out of her head. "I am bloody well am not!" she retorted, forgetting momentarily that she wasn't supposed to say 'bloody well' because it made her sound posh. "I'll introduce you to him. You think, just because I wouldn't sleep with you when we were in Year 10, I'd never be able to get a nineteen-year-old. Think again! For your information, I've been seeing him for two and a half months. Things have changed, Brad Boot. Back in Year 10 half of us didn't even drink. Look at us now." "You're saying that you slept with him?" "All right, I was wrong. One thing hasn't changed. You're still an obnoxious little-" He interrupted. "That means you didn't?" He sounded hopeful. "My God-" She broke off as a tall figure entered the room, as if on cue. "Hi babe," he said, walking over to her. He glanced at Brad, then wrapped a possessive arm around Amy. "I was wondering where you'd been." "I was just getting something to eat," she said. "Want to dance?" "Sure thing, babe." Arm-in-arm they left the room. Amy short the bewildered Brad a look of victory. Ha! she thought. Take that! Once they were in the large living room, Simon asked, "Who was that guy? No offence, but he looked like a right prat." She flinched slightly. Back in Year 10, if anyone had
offended Brad, she would have defended him. But things had
changed, she remembered. "Just some annoying guy I knew at
school," she said. "And you're right, he is a prat."
"What's up?" Adam asked, without enthusiasm, as Brad approached him. Brad slumped on the sofa next to Adam, and picked up the drink that he had left on the coffee table. He took a swig. "No one spiked this, did they?" "They did, actually. I saw a bloke in a leather jacket putting some ecstasy in it a few minutes ago." Brad sighed. "Guess who's here." "Elvis?" "Amy. And she's been going out with some jerk called Simon who's apparently nearly twenty. For the last two and a half months. Actually, that's him over there." Brad pointed, but quickly looked away. Simon and Amy were holding each other close, blissfully unaware of everyone else in the room. Adam hardly glanced at them. "At least she didn't get married to your worst enemy." Maybe Adam wasn't the most sympathetic person to talk to about a problem like that, Brad thought. Last summer, Debbie had married a bloke with the weird name of Repton on the spur of the moment, dropping out of school despite her high GCSE grades. Debbie claimed to be besotted with him, but no one else could see anything in him whatsoever. Especially not Adam. "True," Brad agreed. "I suppose there's other fish in the sea." But he said it without optimism. Amy was the only girl he'd really liked, and there was more chance of earth being hit by a comet within the next ten seconds than Amy ever going out with him again. Caroline had been fun to be with, but that was over : they'd used each other for sex, and now they wanted more. "Fair point," Adam agreed, also lacking commitment. "What do you think of her?" He pointed to a girl dancing wildly on her own. She was wearing a tiny top that just covered her breasts, and a skirt of about two inches long. Brad was pretty certain she was in Year 11. "Tart," he said. "Exactly." Adam put down his drink and stood up. "See you later." Brad watched as Adam introduced himself to the girl. Everyone was now part of a couple. From the kitchen he heard a voice yell, "This pie is fanbloodytastic!" Great. In his anguish, he had left the pie in the kitchen. Now he was without company and without food too. Why was he here?
She turned to see yet another old familiar face, framed by corn-coloured hair. "Hi Caroline," she said to the girl standing next to the sideboard. "What a small world it is. Guess who else is here." "I know," Caroline said. "Brad and Adam." "Adam's here as well? Next thing I know Debbie and Repton will turn up. God, I thought I had escaped from all you people." Caroline laughed slightly, showing that they might not be friends anymore, but they were still on speaking terms. "And we thought we'd seen the back of you. What's your excuse for being here?" "My boyfriend is a mate of the guy having the party, whoever that might be." She couldn't help feeling satisfied as she said the words 'my boyfriend'. Caroline was suitably surprised. "Boyfriend, eh?" "Yes. In the hope that you'll believe me - our mutual acquaintance Brad didn't - I've been seeing him for two and a half months, his name's Simon, and he's nearly twenty. I'd introduce you to him, except he's gone to get some more booze from the shops, I think." "Nice one," Caroline said, approvingly. Well, at least Caroline wasn't jealous. Then again, she was probably going out with a twenty two year old or something. "So what brings you here?" "In a word, Spannerman." "Spannerman?" That was really freaky - Spannerman WOULD be about twenty two by now. But why would Caroline be going out with him? "That guy your sister finished with two years ago? Surely you're not-" "Oh no, what do you take me for? No, Megan's currently single - she and Floyd have broken up for the fifth time or something - and Spannerman keeps hanging around hopefully. She's really fed up with him. He asked her if she wanted to go to a party with him, and the answer was obviously no. So he settled for the next best thing. Me. And would I ever refuse a chance to part-ay? I haven't seen him since we got here, but here I am." "I see. So, I hear you and Brad split up." "Uh huh." "How come?" Caroline waved her hand dismissively. "You know what he's like. Fun to be with, you have a laugh and all, but it was getting pointless. I mean, you see Debbie and Repton tying the knot, and you realise it could be you. And Brad, sweet though he is, isn't exactly the person I want to marry, you know? So we ended it." Amy nodded, although it had been different for her. Two years ago, she had been quite certain that Brad WAS the person she wanted to marry. He might not be the best looking lad in the world, but they had gelled from the beginning, and she couldn't believe her luck, finding someone she could get along with so well, at such an early age. Obviously she didn't want to marry at sixteen, but after university, maybe... Boy, things had changed. "So are you seeing anyone now?" "Not really," Caroline said. "I mean, you'll find this incredible ironic, but I've been kind of seeing the bass player from the sorely-missed Warrior." "Warrior split up?" She referred to a local band they'd seen a few times. Floyd was the lead singer. "And isn't that the guy you were obsessed with when you were fourteen?" "Yeah, they split up a while back, thanks to my lovely sister, actually. And yes, that's the same bloke. I couldn't believe it when he asked me out. But although he's gorgeous and a great kisser and that, we don't really have a lot to say to each other." Amy suddenly realised that she and Caroline had found quite a lot to say to each other. She supposed they had a lot of catching up to do. "He's quite old, isn't he?" "Nearly twenty two," Caroline said, dreamily. Now that WAS freaky! "Wow, he's fit." "Your boyfriend?" Amy asked. "Yeah, I know. I've seen him, remember?" "No, that guy over there," Caroline pointed. "Typical, he already has a girlfriend. And she's - ohmygod, it's Paula. What a waste! Right, Amy? Amy?" Amy didn't answer. She was staring at the couple. They were getting off with each other, not unlike several other couples at the party, but their kiss was more fervent, more passionate; their embrace was more firm, more urgent; it was as if they were overwhelmed by each other. It was PG-rated, but the scene seemed as though it shouldn't take place in public, but in a secluded bedroom. Amy saw the girl first. She was dressed more sensibly than some of the other people here, considering it was late November, but in clothes that half the world wore. A jumper that would bear a name such as Ellesse if Amy could see the front; dark blue Adidas trousers, and Adidas trainers. Her face was buried and the bloke's, but Amy could see she was wearing about an inch of make- up, and had more hairspray than hair. It was, without doubt, Paula, a former semi-friend of Caroline. She was a school- renouned bitch, and a slapper as well. But Amy wasn't surprised to see her, lip-locked with someone who she probably didn't know. It was the boy that stunned her. At first, she didn't recognise him. He was significantly taller than the girl, about six foot. He was dressed casually but carefully : Dr Martens, Levi 501s and a Timberland jumper. His brown hair was short and neat, but she didn't see his face. She didn't have to. "Oh God," she whispered. "Exactly," Caroline said. "Can you believe that girl? He must be incredibly drunk, that's all I can say." "No." Amy's mouth felt filled wih cotton. She looked around frantically for a drink, but the cans and glasses on the sideboard were empty. "The boy." "What, do you know him?" Caroline asked. "It's Simon."
With a bump, he suddenly collided with another couple. "Sorry," he muttered, but they paid no attention to him. They were too wrapped up in each other. Well, lucky them, he thought. He was about to tell the girl he was going to get another drink, when a thought struck him. The girl he recognised vaguely. He was pretty sure she'd been in the same year as him at school, although they'd never spoken and she'd left now. But it was the boy that caught his attention. Wasn't he... yes, Adam was pretty certain he was! The lad he'd seen Amy dancing with earlier! I wonder if she's seen them, he thought idly. Then a more important that occurred to him - had Brad seen them? "Excuse me," he said to the girl, untangling himself from her grasp. "I've just remembered something I've got to do." The girl let go of his and shrugged. "Whatever." He started making his way out of the room, which had become more crowded over the last half an hour, keeping an eye out for Brad. As he backed through the doorway, he saw that the girl had already found someone else to "dance" with. Well, that was a long and meaningful relationship, he thought without regret. Adam pushed and shoved his way through the house. Most of the rooms were packed, but Brad wasn't in any of them. In the bathroom Adam found an overweight boy snoring in the bath and a girl with hair dyed half red and half blue throwing up in the toilet, but no Brad. The only people in the kitchen were Amy and Caroline, who didn't seem to notice them, although he lingered in there, grabbing a drink and a lukewarm slice of pizza. Amy was clinging on to Caroline's arm, and Caroline was talking to her in a comforting voice, too quietly for him to hear her words. Obviously they'd seen. Adam thought about saying something, but since he couldn't think what, he left the room, wondering briefly since when the two girls had been speaking again. It was possible that Brad had left the party, Adam thought as he left the garage. Like most other rooms, it had been full of squirming couples, only these ones were squirming more. Brad hadn't been having the greatest time here. But there was still the back garden to try, Adam remembered as he headed along the corridor. And what was that door? Oh, the cupboard under the stairs. It was doubtful that Brad would be in there, but it was worth a try. He threw open the door to find a half-naked couple inside. Oops. "Sorry," Adam said, blushing and slamming the door on them. They didn't seem to notice him. He reached the door leading to the back garden, opened it and stepped onto the patio. A sudden draft slammed it shut behind him. He looked around. The garden seemed like a different world from the rest of the party. The thumping music was still audible, but it seemed distant, although its source was only a few rooms away. The air was freezing out here, while it had been too hot in the house. The only light came from the gibbous moon, illuminating several silent smoking figures who stood in a loose circle. Fitting in with the atmosphere was a strange undescribable smell. What's that? he wondered, before realising it was pot. Well, Brad wouldn't be out here, this wasn't his scene at all. He must has left. Slumping his shoulders, Adam turned to go back into the house - it was probably time he left too - but a low voice made him freeze. "Hi. Want some?" "No thanks," he said. "Aw, come on, Adam, there's no danger," a more familiar voice told him. "Have a little fun." "Brad?" he whispered, not wanting to disturb the peace too much. "What are you doing here?" "Chillin' out." Adam couldn't see Brad, but he could hear the dopey smile on his face. "If you say so. But if you wouldn't mind coming inside for a minute, there's something you might be interested to see. Or more like, someone." "Who?" "Look," said a nasal female voice. "If you're going to talk, please could you do it elsewhere? Some of us are trying to get some sleep." Adam wondered if 'sleep' was another word for pot, or if the girl was just barmy and everyone else was too stoned to correct her. "All right," Brad said. "Catch you later." He emerged from the shadows, and followed Adam into the house. They almost collided with the hair-dye girl that Adam had seen in the bathroom on her way outside. Her face was pale, but her mouth was set in grim determination to look hard. Once she had gone, Brad asked impatiently, "What is it?" "Simon. I saw him getting off with some blonde who used to be in our year at school. And by the looks of things, Amy saw him too. And she's not a happy camper." Brad just stared at him for a few seconds. Then he shouted, "Yes! Brilliant! I love you! That's the best news I've heard in ages! Thank you! Take this." He shoved the cannabis cigarette into Adam's hand and sprinted off down the corridor, jumping as he almost crashed into people moving in the opposite direction. Adam smiled momentarily. At least he'd done his good deed for the day. Now he should probably go home and fall asleep thinking what a loser he was. It wasn't particularly appealing, but neither was staying here. He glanced down at the object he was holding. It didn't
exactly look dangerous, just like a normal cigarette, not that he
particularly liked them. Well, why not? He pushed open the door
to the garden once more.
"Men are bastards," Caroline stated. "They're all like that. But don't get upset, at least, not until he finds you, pretending nothing's happened. Then, give him you your worst." "I don't think I can wait that long," Amy wailed. "Oh yeah? Look who's here." Sure enough, Simon strolled through the door, a smile on his face as usual. A smile that Amy had always found cute but was now simply insolent. "Hi babe," he said. "What is it with you and the kitchen. Is it, like, the place to be?" For the first time, she heard exactly how idiotic he sounded. "Don't 'hi babe' me," she snapped. "And yes, the kitchen is the place to be, for people who need to escape from the lovely events visible in the sitting room." "What are you talking about?" Even if she hadn't seen him, she would have realised his voice was too innocent. "Has someone been sick in there?" "Yes. You've made me sick in there. Cut the crap, you know perfectly well what I'm talking about. How long has it been going on? I ask you. A week? A month? A year?" Realising he had been seen, he threw up his hands in despair. "Oh hell, babe, you don't understand. That girl you saw in there just, like, forced herself upon me, and she wouldn't let me go." "And am I really supposed to believe that? That you couldn't escape the grasp of a five-foot-two seven-stone girl? Your mates would laugh if they heard that one." "Speaking of mates, aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?" "I'm Caroline," Caroline said tersely. "Don't try and change the subject." "Ok, so, it was a mistake. It won't happen again and it didn't mean anything. You're still the one I love, the only one I love." "Love?" Amy cried. "You don't have a clue what love is. You're not even drunk and you're getting off with strangers. What happens when you're drunk, that's what I'd like to know. Actually, I wouldn't. I don't give a fuck what you do from now on, Simon. We're finished." "Oh, come on, baby, please." He tried to wrap an arm around her, but she slapped it away. "We all make mistakes, she doesn't mean a thing to me." "And neither, it would seem, do I. Stop giving me that shit, fuck off and go and shag every girl in the bloody house. See if I care." He looked her in the eyes for a few seconds, seeing if he could make her show mercy. She scowled at him stonily. "All right," he said, finally. "I will. I don't know why I bothered with you for so long anyways, you frigid tart." He turned and stalked off into the sitting room. "Isn't that a paradox?" Caroline said rhetorically, before he was out of earshot. Amy made no response. Tears were falling from her eyes and choked sobs were escaping from her lips. "Oh, Amy, don't cry," Caroline assured her, grabbing her arm. "You showed him what you're made of. You did great." "H-h-he called me f-f-frigid," Amy gasped. "Men are stupid," Caroline said, matter-of-factly. "If you don't sleep with them you're frigid, if you do you're a slapper. Don't pay any attention to them." But Amy was past paying no attention. "I thought he loved me!" Her voice had turned hysterical. "Come on," Caroline said, gently guiding her towards the
door leading into the corridor. "Let's go find some Kleenex and a
ride home."
Caroline kept saying reassuring words, but Amy still mopped at her wet eyes with a piece of kitchen roll. There was only way of describing how she felt : like crap. She had thought this was it, her first love. Brad had been no more than a naive fifteen- year-old's crush, this was the real thing. But Simon had broken her heart. She should have seen it coming, really. Realised something was going on when he made excuses not to see her. Guessed he was seeing other people when she refused to sleep with him and he said he didn't mind. But she had believed him, every word he said - all that meaningless sentimental drivel - because she wanted him to be perfect, and thought he could do no wrong. "Hey Caroline," a voice interrupted her thoughts. Amy looked up to see a tall handsome bloke of about twenty beckoning to her companion. Another admirer for Caroline, Amy noted. Caroline attracted a lot of boys, but because she was genuinely pretty, not just plastering on make up and wearing clothes not big enough for a doll. Amy was by no means genuinely pretty. When she looked in the mirror earlier tonight she had seen a face she was satisfied with, but wouldn't make anyone mouth, "You're so hot." Maybe I should just abandon all my principles, dress like a prostitute and act like one, she thought. I might have more success. "What?" Caroline called to the lad. "Spannerman wants to talk to you." "This could be our ride home," Caroline said to Amy. She stood up and started down the stairs. "I'll be back in a sec." Amy watched as Caroline disappeared into a room with the
boy. Now I look like a right loser, she thought, feel further
tears well in her eyes. Why me? Why tonight?
He started up the stairs. "Uh, hi," he said, nervously. After her outburst before, he couldn't be certain how she'd react to him. She didn't react at all. Didn't say anything, didn't look at him. She would recognise his voice - unless she was really really drunk - so no reaction was probably a good thing. He sat down on the step beside her. The stairs were fairly narrow, and their legs were nearly touching. But she didn't shirk away, which he took as a good sign as well. "I, uh, heard about what happened." "Word travels fast," she murmured to herself. "The whole school and college will know by Monday." "Uh, I'm sorry." "I'm sorry as well. Sorry I ever trusted him." Brad was at a loss for words now, and every syllable he uttered counted. For that matter, so did every syllable he DIDN'T utter. "He's, um, not worth it. Not worth, um, thinking about." She slowly removed the damp piece of kitchen roll from her eyes. They were red and haggard, a far cry from those harsh made- up eyes he'd seen earlier tonight. "You know what?" she said. "You're absolutely right." It was hard for Brad to restrain himself from punching the air and giving a shriek of extreme joy. "He's not worth it," she continued. "I said I didn't care about what he did, and I don't. He is history. Why am I wasting my time wishing it had been different? I can't change what's happened, so I might as well forget about him." "Yeah," Brad said. "Don't let him bother you." Tentatively, he put an arm around her. Amy neither flinched nor welcomed it. She lifted the bottle and took a swig. She put it down and said, "I won't. After all, he's not the only bloke in the world. And I still have my friends." She held up her hands and counted on her fingers. "I have Lisa and Hayley and Gail and Martin and Dirk," she said. She sipped some more wine. Brad didn't recognise any of the names. They must be people she knew from college. "You have Caroline," he said. "I have Caroline," she said. "Do I? Yeah, I suppose I do. And I have Rebecca and Zoe and Niall and..." She searched her alcohol-blurred brain for a tenth friend. "And you have me," Brad said, quietly. "And I have you," Amy said. "Yes." Her voice grew soft. "I have you." Taking his chances, Brad swivelled her round so they were facing one another. And then he kissed her on the lips. And, to his relief and satisfaction, he found her kissing back. But it wasn't much later before she pulled away. Oh God, now I'm going to get it, Brad thought in trepidation. But Amy said no angry words, nor did she slap him on the face. Instead she said, "Oh God, I've missed you so much." "And I've missed you." Yeah, he'd gone out with Caroline for nearly a year, but it hadn't been the same : he had continued to think about Amy every day. "Can we try again?" she asked hoarsely. "Certainly," he said, embracing her once more.
So neither her nor Amy had a lift now. There was an alternative, not a very appealing one, but an alternative none the less. Phoning her parents or Amy's mother, and getting one of them to collect them. The trouble was, it was rather embarrassing. It was also probably better if they didn't find out what went on at parties these days, or this would be the last party Caroline or Amy went to. Caroline's parents were still convinced parties still involved watch videos and playing Spin the Bottle; Amy's mother wasn't sure whether they'd given up Pass the Parcel and Blind Man's Buff yet. Well, Caroline would consult Amy and see what she thought. She approached the stairs and was about to speak when she saw that Amy was not alone, but passionately kissing somene. And that someone was Brad! Ok, maybe I can find some other things to do here for a
while.
Simon frowned. That was the main problem with splitting up with people : for days afterwards everyone wanted to know why and how. "Yeah," he said. "Why?" "That girl sure didn't waste much time." "What do you mean?" "Come out here and see for yourself." Jay waved towards the door that led out into the hall. Simon made his way through the mob and into the hall. "Where?" There was a boy talking on the phone and movements behind a curtain where coats were kept. Surely Amy couldn't be there? "On the stairs," Jay told him. Simon moved so that he could see the stairs and noticed Amy's friend staring up them as well. Sure enough, about five stairs up sat Amy, getting off with a boy. My God, he thought. Did I really mean so little to her? Then he saw who the boy was. It was the one Amy had been talking to in the kitchen earlier; the one wih glasses and zits and bad hair. Simon smiled. Well, isn't that sweet? he asked her silently. I must say, it's a bit pathetic though, if you're trying to make me jealous of something. Yes, that was it, she was just trying to make him jealous and kissing "the prat" was the best she could do. Besides, two could play at that game. "Hi," he said to Amy's friend. What was her name? Carol or something. Whatever, she was fit. "Want to dance?" "Fuck off," the girl said, walking away. God, what was wrong with these people? Did they think they were too good for him or something? Disgusted, he went back into the sitting room. A scantily clad girl who looked no older than fifteen was swaying backwards and forwards on her own. "Want to dance?" he asked. "Sure," the girl slurred. Now that was more like it! At
least someone at this party knew how to have a good time.
The last half an hour had been a blur. She recalled sitting on the stairs, kissing Brad hungrily, making up for his long absence from her life. The kisses sent shockwaves through her, combining with the effect of alcohol to make everything else fuzz. She heard distant familiar voices - Caroline and Simon, whatever they might be saying to each other. Then they left, leaving only the stranger talking on the phone, probably ordering more pizza. And then he went too, and they were alone. Minutes later she was aware of moving. She didn't see where she was going, but she was being led up the stairs. And everything else was obscured by comfort and love. But suddenly she was alert. She was in a bed, in a dark room illuminated only by the moon outside and a small shaft of light from the hall falling through the ajar door. But she wasn't alone, someone was holding her, breathing heavily. Beside her heart, another pounded. And then she remembered, it was Brad. But why were they here together? Surely it was Simon that she was seeing now- A more alarming realisation hit her. Her naked breasts were crushed against his bare chest. And there was a warm hand caressing her leg, perilously high- She screamed and jerked away. This was no nightmare, she saw her clothes and his on the floor beside the double bed. "Hey! What's wrong with you?" "What's wrong with me?" Amy cried. "There's nothing wrong with me, it's YOU that's got a problem. You're all the same, you're only after one thing." "No Amy, please, you don't understand-" "I understand perfectly well," she cut him off. "You saw I was drunk and upset and in need of comfort, so you tried to take advantage of me. There's no point in pretending." "No really, I - I just wanted to help-" "Then you can help by getting out of this bed and my life." "Please, can I try to explain? We're not strangers, Amy, we go back a long way. And I want you back, really I do. I miss you." "You don't want me at all." She reached out from under the covers and grabbed the clothes off the floor. "You want sex. Well, let me tell you - there are plenty of easier ways to get it than from off me. Go downstairs and see if Simon's finished with Paula yet. I'm sure she'll be happy to oblige." "I KNOW that," Brad protested as Amy threw a shirt at him. "That's just it. I want you, only you. That's why I'm here. If you don't want to sleep with me, then that's ok, I'm willing to wait. But please, can we try again?" "No," Amy said, trying to put on her bra without emerging from under the duvet. "I've had quite enough of blokes, thank you very much." "Can you at least bear me in mind? I made a mistake last year, I made a mistake tonight. And I'm sorry." Mistakes. Where had she heard that one before? She knew everyone made mistakes, but males seemed to make them a lot more than females. She fastened her bra and picked up her shirt. "Please?" Brad begged. "We'll see," she said, but she knew in her that she wouldn't. There was too much history between them, too much bad history to make a fresh start. She pulled on her shirt. "All right," Brad said, putting on his own. That, Amy supposed, was the good thing about Brad. He might not take no for an answer, but he would accept a negative "maybe". Maybe there was hope for them after all, maybe tonight had just been cursed and things would look better in the morning light. But for now, she had to get out of here. She swung her legs out of the bed and stood up. She flattened down her crumpled skirt and walked out of the room without another word. Downstairs she found Caroline sipping a beer. "You ready to go?" Amy asked. "I've been ready for ages." Caroline grinner and put down the can. "But what about you? Looks like you're getting on with Brad again. Or maybe 'getting off with' would be more appropriate." "No." Amy sighed and snatched the can. She took a gulp of the cool liquid. "He's a bastard. A bigger one than Simon." Caroline looked at her curiously, but had the tact not to ask for the gory details. "Well, shall I phone my mother?" "You two looking for a lift?" a voice asked. The two girls looked to see Adam. A bemused expression was on his face. "You've got a car?" Amy asked, in surprise. "No, I have a three-person skateboard." Caroline laughed. "Have you been drinking?" "A little, but look at it this way. I've got to drive myself home, and you two live more-or-less in the same direction as I do." Amy and Caroline looked at each other for a second, and then simultaneously said, "Ok." Adam's car was parked some distance down the street from the party, and they walked there in silence. Adam swayed slightly, Caroline stumbled, and Amy kept her head down, avoiding the cracks in the pavement and soggy leaves. When they reached Adam's car - a grey Citroen BX - Caroline said, "Oh wow! Is this yours?" "My mother's. And if you're going to be sick, be sick now because she'll kill you if you throw up in the car." "I'm not going to be sick," Caroline said, grabbing the wing mirror to steady herself. "Bags I the passenger seat." "Whatever." Amy hesitated, as she watched Adam open the driver's door. He looked a little green himself. "Are you sure you're ok to drive?" she asked. "I haven't taken my test yet, but I've been having lessons-" "I'm fine," Adam assured her, getting in. Amy got in the back, hoping they'd be ok. A car accident would be the perfect end to this wonderful evening. They set off, at first without speaking to one another. Then Caroline said, "All men are jerks and all jerks are men." "Hey," Adam protested. "Talk like that, and you're walking!" "Oh, you're all right," Caroline said, evidently forgetting that Adam had been a jerk of the highest order when Debbie agreed to marry Repton. "Tell you what," she said, grabbing his arm. "I'll make you an honourary girl for tonight." "Wow. Just what I always wanted to be. Um, would you mind letting go of my arm? I kinda need it to change gear." "But I don't want to let go!" Caroline wailed. "I love you!" "If you love me, and I'm an honourary girl, then you're an honourary lesbian." "No," Caroline said. "I'm an honourary bloke." "You said all men are jerks, so that makes you an honourary jerk." "So what? Being a jerk is fun." Amy listened to Adam and Caroline as they bantered on. She didn't want to, but it was better than getting lost in her own thoughts. She was jealous, she supposed. Why was it that Caroline managed to flirt effortlessly with anyone and everyone, and always land with her heart intact? Amy had only dated two people, and they'd both disappointed her. Eventually, they reached Caroline's house and reluctantly she got out of the car. "See you Amy," she called. "Bye bye baby," she said to Adam, blowing him a kiss. With a wave, she shut the door, and Adam revved the engine. "That girl's mad," he said. "You like her?" Amy asked. "Only as a friend." After a pause he said, "You don't have to answer this, but what happened with you and Brad?" "Oh, he tried to rape me. No big deal." Amy couldn't see Adam's face, but she could tell he'd raised an eyebrow. "I don't know what's got into him, then," he said finally. "I guess he'd been drinking. Smoking pot as well. He's a decent bloke." She made no response. Was there really such a thing as a decent bloke? She was having her doubts. Adam, for example, seemed perfectly sweet at the moment, giving her and Caroline a ride home, but she'd seen another side to him too. "Think about it," Adam urged. "Give him a chance." "Maybe," Amy said, again, and not meaning it. She'd had the right idea last year, giving up on men altogether. They weren't worth the hassle. And she'd been happy, then, sort of. Kinda empty, incomplete, but at least stable and independent. "It's this street," she said, pointing. He indicated and swung the car round the corner slightly too fast. Both sides of the house were lined by large houses; Amy lived in the poshest area of town. Adam pointed towards one of them. "Sometimes I want to burn that place down." Amy didn't have to look to see which one he meant. It was the place where Repton used to live. "What's the point?" she asked. "He doesn't live there anymore, and neither do his family." "It's the principle of the thing," Adam muttered. "This one," Amy said, pointing to her own house. Adam stopped the car and she opened the door. "Well, see you around," she said. "Bye." As she shut the door, Amy made a decision. Her own love life
might be in shreds, but there was nothing to stop her getting
involved with other people's. And she was going to make sure that
Caroline and Adam got together. They both deserved some
happiness.
"What?" Caroline croaked. "Phone for you," Megan said. Caroline leapt out of bed, startling her sister. She ran to the phone and lifted the receiver with a breathless, "Hello?" "Hi, did I wake you up?" A voice said. With a wave of disappointment, she realised its owner : Garrett, her boyfriend- of-sorts. Well, who was I hoping it would be? she asked herself. She
had an answer, an answer she had never expected herself to give.
Adam.
"Why not?" Adam protested. "You don't even know your GCSE results yet!" "I don't care," she said, and left the building. Adam stared after her, watched her faded to a full stop on the horizon. Then he heard Caroline's voice say, "I'm staying here." He woke up, then, smiling. He had a hangover, but he didn't
care. He got out of bed and had a shower. It was Sunday, which
meant he'd go to school tomorrow. Usually the prospect of
Geography, History and French didn't thrill him, but being at
school meant he got to talk to Caroline... Maybe he liked her as
more than a friend after all.
And then it was all clear, every angry word she'd spoken, those in the kitchen and the later ones in the bedroom. "ONE thing hasn't changed. You're still an obnoxious little-" Oh shite. What had he done?
What else had happened? Oh yeah, Amy. Well, who cared about her? He lifted the receiver of the phone beside his bed and dialled a familiar number. "Hi babe," he said when Kate answered. "Hi!" she said, in her giggly voice. "How was the party?" "Wonderful," he said, remembering the girl. "Shame you couldn't make it." "Never mind, we can make up for it tomorrow. You do remember what day it is tomorrow, don't you?" "Sure do," he said. Their one-year anniversary.
She got out of bed, a wave a nausea reminding her that she had a hangover on top of everything. She padded over the soft carpet to the stereo and looked for a suitable CD to listen to. Until last year, she'd listened to nothing but romantic junk : boy bands and Celine Dion and people. But when she and Brad had split up, she decided she didn't want to listen to love songs anymore. She'd packed all her CDs away and listened to her brother's instead, much to his chagrin. Over the last year, she'd bought some better ones for herself too. A good thing really, because the last thing she wanted to listen to now was people singing about love. She needed something cheerful and upbeat. But what would work? Bon Jovi? No, this had "Never Say Goodbye" on it. Skunk Anansie? Too bitter. The Prodigy? Too reminiscent of last night's music. The Bluetones? Yeah, that would do. She slipped "Expecting To Fly" into her CD player, and "Talking To Clarry" filled the air. She crawled back into her comfortable bed and listened. Usually when she listened to music, she did something at the same time. She would read or do homework or play on the computer or something. Today, she just listened, absorbed every word, memorised every note. It was nice, it blocked out her thoughts. She suddenly heard the phone ringing and she tensed. Could it be Simon, saying he wanted her back? Could it be Brad, asking if she'd made up her mind yet? She didn't want to find out. Curling up tightly, she tried to shut out the ominous piercing sound. Eventually her mother put an end to it. Seconds later, she heard her mother calling her name, but Amy only pulled the covers over her head. Go away, she urged. But footsteps were approaching her room. "Amy, it's for you," Mrs Turnbull said. Amy realised that if she had music playing, she couldn't pretend to be asleep. "Boy or girl?" she asked, emerging slightly. "Girl, I'm afraid." Girl! Amy leapt out of bed and sprinted past her bewildered mother. She raced downstairs and grabbed the receiver. "Hello?" "Hi Amy, it's me," said Caroline's voice. "Listen, I was wondering if you wanted to do something." "Like what?" Amy asked. "Like, well, just hang out, talk, you know. If you're feeling up to it. If you're not busy." Amy had homework to do, but that could wait. "Sure," she said. "Want to come over?" "All right. I'll be round in half an hour." They said their goodbyes and hung up. "Was that Caroline?" Mrs Turnbull asked. Amy nodded. "I haven't heard from her in a while." It was true. Caroline hadn't phoned for over a year, but in the months before that, the two girls had spoken on the phone nearly every day. Well, Amy thought as she went back upstairs. That's one good thing that came from last night's fiasco. Yeah, I split up with Simon and nearly slept with Brad, but at least I'm talking to Caroline again. She walked back into her bedroom. The CD echoed her sentiments. "Losing a lover / Gaining a friend" Yes, that was what had happened to her. But the singer's voice was full of hope, and so was her heart. Love didn't work for teenagers. They made too many mistakes. It always went too fast or too slow, there was never enough respect, and someone was always getting hurt. But friendship could work and did work. Now Amy saw why the last year had seemed empty. It wasn't because she missed having a boyfriend, but because she missed the company of Brad and Caroline, the two who had been her closest friends the year before that. Now she had one of them back, and maybe even the other. And friendship was all that mattered.
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