183 Times a Year (18 page)

The dance floor is heaving with mad, dancing, bodies and watching everyone is double the fun coz of the mirrored walls everywhere. The atmosphere in the room is buzzing. I look across at Chelsea's Dad who looks like a middle aged idiot, basking in all the female attention that surrounds him while he serves drinks behind his very own life size bar. He looks like a baboon to me. I swear he thinks he's like some bartender character out of the film Cocktail or something. And why girls not much older than me are so ridiculously interested in
such
an
old
man is beyond me. It's like me fancying someone like, hmmm well, like Simon (except of course that would be like incest or something) but EEEEEWWWWW, it's just too gross.

As I continue scanning the room my heart feels like it stops for a moment as I spot Joe. He's talking to someone and I can't see who. He is so gorge, so beautiful. I feel a bit drunk but I think it's love, not alcohol. Yeah that's what it is, I'm drunk on love. Oh god, what's he doing? I can see who he's talking to now and its bloody Pheebs. I feel, well I dunno, my chest feels like it's being squeezed. He's looking right at her, well right at her boobs actually. What are they both laughing at? Why is he moving the hair away from her face? Oh god, now I feel sick. I have to move.

I get up from the expensive but bloody uncomfortable
stretched
leather sofa we've been sitting on. My bum is numb and the room is swaying a little. I put both my arms out to balance myself. These shoes are like waaaaay tooooooo high. I spot Sophie and Maddy with Luke and a few others. I totter over to where they're all standing.

I also spot Chelsea. How did she end up persuading me to let her wear my dress? Well, Ruby's dress actually. I suppose it looks better on her than me anyway. She is of course, surrounded by boys and they all look ridiculous, prancing and preening around her, arrogant attitudes as big as their ego's, vying for victory, more bothered about being the winner than the prize itself. Still, Chelsea looks happy. She is the centre of the universe and all this attention only confirms that.

My eyes search the room again for Joe but he must have moved because I can't see him anymore. I can't see Pheebs either. My stomach flips. I feel sick.

‘Hi Cassie,' Luke says, ‘you look errrmm …,' he stops talking to cough. ‘You look nice tonight,' he eventually says.

I frown at Luke. ‘Yeah? Thanks Luke.'

I've known Luke like forever and I don't understand why he's being all weird and nervous around me. We usually have good banter together. I like talking to him coz he plays piano too, and guitar. Hopefully Joe will see me talking to him and feel as jel as he just made me feel.

‘Have you seen Joe?' I ask him and everyone else he's standing with. ‘Or Pheebs? Have any of you seen Pheebs?' They shrug their shoulders. My stomach dances with dread.

‘I thought Joe was with …,' Luke begins to say.

‘Who?' I reply just a little too quick, a little too snappy. ‘You thought Joe was with who?' I demand.

‘You,' Luke replies. He looks a bit taken aback. ‘I thought Joe was with you,' he repeats.

‘What, oh yeah he was, is. He was going to get us some
drinks,'
I explain, looking round frantically. Still no sign of Joe, or Pheebs. Before I realise it I've pulled out my phone and am thumping out a message.

When you like someone but your best friend insists on flirting with them.

#Friend or Foe?

Suddenly there is a hand running down my back. I turn quickly to see Joe looking down at me and before I can say a word he's kissing me. His mouth is hot and soft and his tongue searches for mine. I can taste alcohol and smell something sweet around him, perfume maybe? It's not mine, it's a different smell to mine but as his hands roam across my back I suddenly don't really care. Joe wants me. He really wants me. I still can't believe he fancies me. I don't know what he sees in me really.

We stop kissing and when I open my eyes I notice Pheebs has joined our little group. She lifts her head up and looks at me. She's been reading her phone and I'm guessing she's seen my tweet. For a split second I regret my quick fingers until I see the way she looks at Joe and the smug way she smiles at me. Something in the pit of my stomach makes me feel uneasy but then Joe grabs my hand and pulls me towards him. How can someone be so perfect, look so fine, smell so good?

‘C'mon,' he says. His voice sounds urgent. ‘Let's go and find an empty room.' He raises his eyebrows and his piercing blue eyes bore into me.

‘What?' I reply slightly alarmed. ‘What do you mean a room? Don't you want to stay here at the party?' My mind is racing. It's too early for this; I mean I don't even know if we're properly together? His FB status still says single. My phone pings – Pheebs has posted a message

CBA!!! Am done with so-called friends. #Get your own life instead of trying to copy someone else's.

I feel confused, drunk, giddy, nervous and happy all at the
same
time. Joe's grip on me is tight. He's leading me through a dance floor of hot sweaty bodies but it's surprising how much power his sheer presence seems to radiate. He's a bit like that Moses bloke from the bible who parted the Red Sea, except this is a sea of people, and they're not red. Actually my eyes look a bit red as I catch a glimpse of myself in one of the mirrored walls.

We're in the garden now. The lawn is large and lush and green with all kinds of plants and flowers and garden furniture. It's a warm night but the air is fresh and I feel relieved to be outside. Although most people are inside, a few others have spilled outside like us. There are couples kissing in dark corners and small groups of tired party people sitting cross-legged on the grass or lounging across the fancy garden furniture. Everyone is mostly quiet, mumbling in low voices that are suddenly interrupted now and again by loud, raucous laughter. The air feels heavy with the scent of recently watered flowers, especially roses. I know the smell of roses coz they're Nan's favourite. Every now and then I also catch a whiff of a familiar herbal smell, intermingled with fag smoke.

Joe leads me closer to the main house before leaning against a wall and pulling me towards him. He bends his head towards mine and kisses me again, passionately. I feel tingly inside, especially between my legs and little embarrassed coz I can feel him go hard. I pull away slowly, grateful it's too dark for him to see me blush. He grins at me before taking a packet of fags out of his pocket, lighting one and sucking heavily on it. He lifts his head up to release a stream of smoke from the corner of his mouth. He offers me a drag. I don't really want one but I feel like I should. I inhale as lightly as possible but still manage to cough and nearly choke to death. He laughs at me, takes another drag then stubs it out on the wall before carefully placing it back in its packet.

Before
I know it he has quickly guided me into a room in the house. He snaps a switch on the wall and we are suddenly blinded by a bright, glaring light. He looks at me but his hand is fiddling with something on the wall. The light fades. He must have found a dimmer switch or something which I'm like well chuffed about coz I was a bit worried what I look like. I haven't looked at myself properly for at least an hour and I have visions of smudged red lipstick and gunky eyes where make-up and eyeliner collects in the corners of them.

I scan the room quickly, nervously. Despite having slept over at Chelsea's house now several times we're in a room I haven't seen before. It's clearly some sort of guest room. Three of the walls are plain and white, but the fourth has what looks to be expensive (what else would it be) purple and black wallpaper. The furniture is minimal and really modern looking but matches perfectly, not like the mish mashed collection we have at home. There is a black glass sideboard with a few family photos scattered across it and the odd purple, funny shaped ornaments and vases placed between them. There is also a huge flat screen TV on one of the plain walls and a long black sofa with silver metal legs.

To my surprise Joe pushes me down, gently, onto the sofa. He starts kissing me again. God I hope my breath doesn't smell? He moves from my mouth to my neck, kissing, kissing me softly. His hands are wandering up and down my back, and then, oh god he's moving towards my boobs. Oh no, his hands are on my boobs now. I don't know what to think, what to do. Oh my god he's grabbed my hand with one of his, the other one is still on my boob, and is putting it on his jeans between his legs. I keep kissing him, my eyes tightly closed. A million thoughts race through my head. What if he thinks I'm easy? What if he wants to go further? I'm tingling all over and actually enjoying my physical response to his touch. He's reaching up inside my
top
now, pulling and tugging at the back of my bra. I hope he doesn't break my bra coz it's new and I really like it.

‘Here, let me do it,' I say pulling away from him for a minute. I really don't want him to break this bra. He smiles a gawjuss smile at me then starts, I am shocked to see, undoing his jeans. He grabs my hand again and thrusts it inside his boxers. I am touching his willy, his hard willy. I'm shocked, really shocked at how hard and big it feels, and wet? Ugghh! Why does it feel wet?'

‘Are you on the pill?' he suddenly asks me really casually.

‘What?' I reply, slightly taken aback.

‘The pill? Are you on the pill?' he repeats. ‘Coz I've got something if you're not?' I don't know if it's the alcohol or because I feel panicky but this suddenly doesn't feel right. I feel sick. I know I'm way behind a lot of the other girls at school. I know a lot of them lost their virginity ages ago but I'm not going to lose it just to be the same as them. Besides even if I was on the pill, which I'm not, that wouldn't protect me from all the other people he's slept with, would it?

I move away from him. ‘I, I don't feel well,' I stutter.

He smiles a big gawjuss smile. ‘I'll make ya feel betta,' he says, about to reach for me again.

‘No!' I say, ‘I don't want … I can't … I'm still a …'

‘Oh my god,' he says, surprise in his voice. ‘You're not still a fucking virgin are ya?'

‘Yeah, I am,' I reply rather pathetically. Why do I feel ashamed?

‘Chels said you were but I thought she was fucking joking.' There's no respect in his voice, ‘Oh well, come on,' he says, ‘if you're gonna lose it to someone you may as well have the privilege of losing it to me.' He says it as if it's a chore, something I should be grateful for. He stands up and proceeds to pull down his jeans and boxers. My eyes nearly pop out of my head and I
can't
stop looking at his knob, standing hard and to attention.

‘C'mon then,' he says as he takes my hand, ‘let's get this over with.' His voice is softer now and I can't tell if he's smiling at me or laughing. I look at him in disbelief. Then suddenly, out of nowhere – and I don't know if it's nerves or the realisation of just how arrogant Joe actually is – I start laughing and I can't stop.

‘What the fuck are you laughing at?' he says, now pulling his jeans up again. I can't reply because I'm still laughing. ‘Can't be arsed with stupid, immature…' he continues, fumbling with the zip of his jeans.

‘I'm sorry,' I stutter. My laughter drains away as I realise he's going to leave me, doesn't like me even. ‘Don't go,' I plead, ‘can't we just kiss and stuff?' He strides towards me and leans in close. He looks angry.

‘I'm sorry,' he says, ‘but I'm not into silly little girls.' He starts to walk towards the door when suddenly, out of nowhere, vomit projects from my mouth all across (thankfully) the tiled floor of the room. I feel awful.

‘Oh no, help me Joe, please help me,' I beg through a mouthful of sick. He looks repulsed.

‘Uuugghh, that's bloody disgusting Cassie,' he says before disappearing back out of the door we came in.

Oh god, I had such high hopes for tonight. It was all going so well, how did it end up like this? Joe storming out, and me, sitting in my own sick? I start to cry, huge heavy sobs. ‘Mum,' I call out to no-one. ‘I want my Mum.'

Chapter 16

THE OPPRESSED

LIZZIE

I balance on one leg using my left hand to pull my sock onto my left foot and my right hand to clean my teeth whilst simultaneously looking for my reading glasses. I'm running late. Simon looks at me and laughs. I attempt to talk to him through the white froth that has built up around my mouth but give up when I see the quizzical look on his face.

‘Found them,' I shout, finally locating my reading glasses. ‘I was thinking of investing in a chain to put round my neck for these little suckers,' I say, my mouth now froth-free.