Best of Friends (72 page)

“We won’t be snogging outside,” Jess grinned. “We can snog perfectly well inside. It’s only thrill-seekers like you and Zach who feel the need to get down and dirty at bus stops and on park benches.”

“That’s only ’cos we don’t have anywhere else to go,” protested Steph. “If we had a free house all the time like you, we could be at it there.”

“I don’t have a free house and we’re not at it,” Jess pointed out.

“You’re the only one who isn’t,” Steph said loftily. “It’s fantastic,” she added.

“You won’t think that if you end up pregnant.”

“Ugh, don’t be so negative,” Steph said with a shudder.

“You shouldn’t have rushed into it,” Jess went on. She knew that Zach had put fierce pressure on Steph to sleep with him and she disapproved. “I hate all that ‘if you loved me you would’ shit.”

“Oh, gimme a break. I’m old enough,” retorted Steph. “We both are. It’s not as if we’re kids or anything. I mean, there was a time in history when we’d have been married at sixteen, you know.”

“And you think that’s a good option?” demanded Jess crossly. “Women were treated like chattels then. They couldn’t vote or own property, they were like bloody cows. Would you like that?”

“I’m only saying …” Steph protested. She scowled at her friend and stuck her tongue out. “You’re well up on history for someone who couldn’t wait to get out of studying it.”

“Very funny,” growled Jess.

“Bet you if Oliver asked you to have sex with him, you wouldn’t say no,” Steph added.

“He knows I’d say no,” Jess said, then, looking at Steph’s disbelieving face, she collapsed into giggles.

“Slapper,” said Steph, then collapsed into giggles too.

The truth was that Jess wasn’t sure what she’d do if Oliver asked her to sleep with him. She was pretty sure he’d never try the Zach trick of emotional blackmail. Oliver was too straight for that. So if he did ask her to have sex, it would be because he loved her and really wanted to, and Jess didn’t know how she’d react.

Everything had changed so much during the summer. Sometimes, she still couldn’t believe that he was going out with her. He could have had anyone in their year or his year, for that matter, and yet he wanted to go out with her. She felt both wildly flattered—and a little scared that one day it would all be over. But that anxiety still didn’t mean she’d say yes if he did want sex.

The night of the party, Steph told her mother she was staying with the Bartons out in Dunmore. This was a lie. In fact, she and Zach were part of the huge crew staying over in the house where the party was being held. The guy whose party it was said his parents were away and, unless the music was so loud that somebody called the cops, they were safe.

“My mother won’t check,” Steph said confidently. “She says she feels so awful about your parents splitting up that she doesn’t know what to say to your mother.”

“Handy, that,” said Jess, feeling more and more like a grumpy elderly relative. She had been looking forward to the party but now, with Steph planning a complicated night of deception, she felt as if everything was running out of her control. What if Mrs. Anderson phoned the next morning to speak to Steph? Jess had visions of herself going puce and stuttering hopeless lies about Steph being in the shower.

“Tell her that,” Steph said, “then phone me on my mobile and I’ll phone her right back.”

“What if she doesn’t believe me?” demanded Jess. “Or if my mother picks up the phone?”

“God,” groaned Steph, “I just want one night with Zach. Improvise! Take your phone off the hook until I phone your mobile and tell you I’ve talked to my mum.”

“OK,” said Jess reluctantly. She didn’t know why but she had a bad feeling about everything.

Worse, Zach let it slip that Ian Green and his gang were coming, meaning Saffron would be there too.

Abby dropped Oliver and Jess at the party, telling Oliver sternly that she expected her daughter home by half eleven.

“No problem, Mrs. Barton,” Oliver said. “I’m going to book a taxi in loads of time.”

“Good,” said Abby. “And don’t take a lift home with anyone who’s been drinking. Phone me for a lift rather than do that. At least seventy-five percent of all fatal accidents are caused by young, inexperienced drivers …”

“Mum!” said Jess. “We’re getting a taxi, OK?”

She only hoped her mother wouldn’t bump into Steph’s mum now lest the false sleep-over arrangements were revealed.

Jess needn’t have worried. It was after ten and the party was going full blast before Steph and Zach turned up with half a bottle of vodka and a six-pack of alcopops. They both smelled of a mixture of cigarettes and whiskey, no doubt filched from Steph’s dad’s drinks cabinet.

To make matters worse, Zach produced two beautifully rolled spliffs from his denim jacket pocket.

“Isn’t he a good boy?” cooed Steph, wrapping herself round her boyfriend.

“Steph, what are you doing?” Jess hissed. “If you get caught—”

“Who’s going to catch me? They’ve got a free house tonight.”

Jess knew Steph was right but she couldn’t help worrying for her friend. This was not normal Steph behaviour.

Steph wasn’t the only one who wasn’t acting quite normally. Oliver seemed unnaturally quiet all evening, and when Jess asked him what was up, he said he’d had a big talking to from his dad about how important this year was in school, how he had to work hard and how it didn’t look good that Oliver had only been back in school a week and was already out partying.

“Your dad can’t be piling the pressure on yet,” protested Jess. “The exams aren’t until next June and nobody works harder than you!”

“Yeah, well, my dad says I’ve got to get into uni this time round, he can’t afford to send me back to repeat my exams. If I don’t get what I want in college this time, I’d have to go to one of the crammer schools and they’re so expensive. He can’t afford it.” Oliver looked stressed. “This is a one-off deal. What a great year this is going to be.” He got up abruptly. “I think I’ll get another drink. Want one?”

She shook her head and watched him amble over to the table laden down with cans and bottles.

A girl in a skimpy halter top and a tiny miniskirt instantly sidled over to him and began chatting him up. One of Saffron’s cronies, a real cow named Sherry, Jess thought sourly, although Oliver didn’t appear to be unduly upset by the attention. Soon, he was chatting away with Sherry and it didn’t look as if he was moaning about studying now.

Irritated, Jess went off in search of Steph, who was just on her way to the loo for a lipstick, eyeliner and hair session. Steph wasn’t walking very steadily and Jess knew her friend was drunk.

“Are you all right?” she asked, worriedly. “You’re a bit wasted, Steph. Sure you don’t want to go home?”

“Chill,” said Steph. “You don’t have to take care of me, Jess.” There was no talking to her when she was in this mood, so Jess headed back down the stairs. On the landing, she met Saffron coming up. As usual, Saffron looked about twenty in an expensive sequinned top worn with low-rise jeans. She was alone.

“Hello, baby girl,” she sneered. “Did your mummy let you out?”

“Fuck off, Saffron,” said Jess, trying to get past.

“Ooh, bad language,” taunted Saffron. “From what I hear, talking about fucking is as bad as it gets with you. Because you won’t actually do it. Afraid, baby girl? Afraid of sex?”

“Leave me alone,” said Jess, confused. How did Saffron know that she and Oliver hadn’t had sex?

“He’s going to dump you, by the way. Oliver’s not interested in a kid like you,” hissed Saffron. “If you’re too much of a kid to have sex, why would he hang around?”

Stung, Jess stared at Saffron. Oliver wouldn’t have told anyone, couldn’t …

But Saffron had some evil sixth sense for Jess’s thought processes. “Think he wouldn’t talk about it, do you?” she taunted. “They all talk about it, don’t you understand? Guys like sex and they think about it, like, every ten seconds. It’s all they talk about. Oliver’s a cool guy. He needs someone who understands him.”

Jess found her voice. “Like you, I suppose?”

Saffron’s eyes were like diamond chips. “No, I’ve got a man, baby girl. But he does like my friend Sherry. He was with her at the party in August, when you were away on holiday with your mummy. Didn’t anybody mention that to you?”

Jess stared at Saffron. She
had
to be lying, she had to be.

Saffron dealt the trump card. “Yeah. He knows your friend Steph is staying over tonight with Zach and he can’t understand why you won’t do the same. Goody Two-Shoes wouldn’t do that, would she? You think you’re so clever, with your TV star mum, but we all can see through you. You’re just a stupid kid, aren’t you?”

Jess fled. She rushed downstairs and went to find Oliver. He’d been near the CD player when she’d left, and now he was standing in the archway between the kitchen and the den, laughing and talking to someone. It was Ian Green, Saffron’s boyfriend. Whatever they were talking about, it was cracking them both up and Oliver’s head was thrown back in a roar of laughter. Sherry was with them, laughing too, and sliding her hands up and down her mini skirt so nobody could miss glancing down at her long, long bare legs.

Bastard! Jess didn’t even want to confront him, she hated him so much. Instead, she grabbed her cardigan and was out the door in seconds. As she walked down the drive, crying, she texted Oliver: “Had to go home. Don’t follow me. Ever.”

It took her twenty minutes to flag down a taxi and in all that time, Oliver never phoned or texted her back—proof that Saffron was right and he wasn’t interested in her. He was probably snogging horrible Sherry now, thrilled that Saffron had done his dirty work for him and got rid of Jess.

Wiping away the stinging tears, Jess sat in the back of the cab and felt as if her heart would break. She switched off her phone. She didn’t want to talk to him now, even if he did ring.

At home she couldn’t sleep. Even when she’d made her bed as comfortable as possible with the pillows squished just the way she liked them, and had got some chocolate from the kitchen, she found herself lying there in the dark, thinking. Mum wanted to move and she hadn’t bothered to mention it to Jess; Oliver wanted to break it off with her and he’d picked the coward’s way out; Saffron was ruining her life by being such a bully and nobody had noticed. Even Steph hadn’t been there for her, Jess thought, feeling suddenly sorry for herself. She was totally alone.

Curling up in a foetal position in her bed, she cried herself to sleep.

She was due to spend Sunday with Dad, so she got up early and phoned him. Dad sounded thrilled to hear from her but he said that their plan to go for a long walk had to be postponed.

“I’ve got a ton of work to do on the school extension,” he said apologetically. “I’ll pick you up and you can watch TV or a video until I’m finished and then we can go out for something to eat or a movie, OK?”

Jess felt too worn out after a sleepless night for any walk so she said yes, that was fine. She wanted to be out all day so she didn’t have to talk to Steph or Oliver or anyone, and she might as well spend it with her father. Just in case anyone tried to contact her, she left her mobile phone behind. If nobody had wanted to talk to her the night before, then they couldn’t talk to her now.

In the end, Dad spent so long poring over architect’s documents and engineer’s reports that it was too late for the movie Jess wanted to see.

“We can order a takeaway,” Dad said hopefully.

“Yeah, great,” said Jess, feeling even more sorry for herself. Was it too much to hope that she might come first for any of the people in her life?

The idea to run away came to Jess as she sat on the train on Monday morning, nose up against the grubby window, watching the countryside speed past in a haze of rain. She wished with all her heart that she was going somewhere else, away from Dunmore, away from home, away from the bullying of school—and, most of all, away from the humiliation of knowing that Oliver didn’t care for her anymore. She’d even got a later train this morning to avoid bumping into him. And now, she had to face Saffron in school. Who knew what fresh torture Saffron would have ready for her? Her locker emptied out all over the floor or more vicious text messages?

She could have coped with everything else, she’d got used to coping, if it hadn’t been for Oliver.

She knew he’d phoned her: she’d checked her mobile for messages and his number came up several times from Saturday night and Sunday, but she hadn’t listened to his messages. It would kill her to hear him tell her what she already knew—that it was over. So she deleted everything. Like he’d deleted her from his life, she thought furiously.

Steph had phoned late on Sunday and she’d sounded hung over on her message. Jess hadn’t phoned back. She knew she’d cry if she talked to Steph and she couldn’t bear to hear what might have happened at the party after she’d rushed off.

Nobody would miss her if she did run away, she decided. Mum and Dad didn’t really notice her anymore. They were too busy locked in their own private misery.

Mum went through her day like a person who’d had her brain replaced by a robot’s. She talked to Jess and went to work, all on automatic pilot. The only thing that made her just a bit animated was this charity thing she was involved with in Sally’s name. Even then, she would constantly mutter about how awful it was that poor Sally was gone when other people, who didn’t appreciate what they had, were left.

Dad wasn’t much better. Jess decided that giving him some home truths when they’d been at Aunt Caroline’s had been a complete waste of time. Instead of going to see Mum, he would miserably ask Jess how she was, like he wanted to know but didn’t have the courage to phone Mum up herself. Yesterday, he’d asked stiffly after Mum and when Jess had snapped, “Why don’t you ask her yourself?” he’d clammed up.

Her parents didn’t seem to realise that she was stuck in the middle, taking misery from both sides and trying to get on with her life. Well, she was fed up with it.

The fields gave way to suburbs, which in turn gave way to the city sprawl and the gloom of the approaching station. As the train chugged lethargically on, Jess almost wished it would stop before it got to the station, so that she would never have to get off and face school again and that bitch Saffron. Thinking about Saturday night gave her a tense, jumpy feeling deep inside now, like Wilbur behaved before thunder. At school, all the teachers were on a high waiting for the Junior Cert results, and all the Junior Cert pupils were in the depths of depression for the same reason.