I stared at her. What the hell was she talking about?
‘Emmi.’ Flynn’s voice was stern – a warning.
Emmi backed away from us. ‘Slag. Slag. Slag.’
‘Shut up,’ Flynn snapped.
‘Oh?’ Emmi’s eyes widened in mock-surprise. ‘Hasn’t River told you about Slug Tongue?’
All the air felt as if it was being sucked out of my body. How did Emmi know about the boy who kissed me? She’d been at the club, sure, but I hadn’t told her about
that revolting kiss – or that I’d nicknamed the boy ‘Slug Tongue’.
‘What?’ Flynn said.
‘Tell him, River,’ Emmi snarled. ‘Tell him about the evening at the club. Tell him about Slug Tongue.’
Flynn looked at me. ‘What is she talking about?’
I swallowed, trying to push down the panic that consumed me, trying to focus. ‘It was a club we went to when . . . when you were in Ireland,’ I said. ‘There was this disgusting
guy who tried it on. Nothing happened.’
Emmi snorted. ‘You let him put his tongue in your mouth. You must have. How else would you know it felt like a slug?’
‘He made me,’ I said quickly. This wasn’t quite true, though I hadn’t been expecting the kiss. I glanced at Flynn who was staring at me, horrified. ‘What I mean is,
he was this total idiot who lunged at me and it was so disgusting I felt sick . . .’
‘Some guy tried to kiss you?’ Flynn was staring at me, utterly appalled. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘What for? It didn’t mean anything to me . . . I ran
away
from him. And I didn’t want to upset you.’
Flynn nodded, slowly. I could see him thinking it through in his head. ‘So you stopped him?’ he said.
‘Yes.’ I turned on Emmi again. How dare she try and hurt me like this?
‘So
I’m
not the slag.’ I spat. ‘I’m not the one getting off with guy after guy and ending up with my best friend’s brother.’
Emmi’s eyes narrowed. And in that instant I knew she knew about James. A cold, sick panic clutched at my throat.
No. No. No.
‘Just your boyfriend’s best friend,’ she said, suddenly sounding horribly sober.
My heart was beating hard against my ribs.
‘River?’ Flynn’s voice was urgent. ‘What’s she talking about now?’
‘Nothing,’ I gasped.
‘Nothing?’ Emmi sneered at me. ‘So when it’s me, two guys a night is a slag. But when it’s you, it’s nothing?’
‘River?’ Flynn sounded half-strangled. ‘What . . . ?’
I couldn’t face him. I couldn’t look round. I kept my eyes on Emmi, pleading with her not to say any more. To take what she had said back. To somehow make it all right.
And then Emmi turned to Flynn and I knew.
I knew that she was going to tell him. I knew that she’d been dying to find some way of upsetting him ever since he’d walked into the barn. And I knew, without a shadow of a doubt,
that when Flynn heard he would hate me.
‘Your best friend, Flynn,’ she hissed. ‘Think about it. He was at the club too.’
Flynn grabbed my shoulders. Spun me round. ‘Look at me.’
I looked up. His eyes were dark gold in the dim glow of the barn lights. Hard as bullets.
‘Is that true?’ he said. ‘You and . . . and James?’
My mind whirled as I tried to find a way of explaining that stupid, meaningless kiss to him. But the words stuck in my throat.
‘Course it’s true,’ Emmi slurred.
‘River?’ Flynn’s whole face was desperate. Pleading. ‘What did James do? Did he try and kiss you too?’ For a second he looked as if he was going to be sick.
‘No.’ I found my voice at last. It was nothing.
Nothing.
James was . . . is . . . totally into Grace. Always.’
‘Then what’s Emmi talking about?’ Flynn stopped, his whole body rigid. I knew he could see in my face there was something I wasn’t telling him. ‘Was there a kiss or
not?’
I gulped. ‘No . . . yes . . . sort of . . .’
‘What?’ Flynn backed away from me, his breath coming in heavy gasps. ‘I can’t believe James would do that.’ He clenched his fists. ‘I’m gonna
freakin’ tear him up . . .’
He turned and raced out of the barn.
‘No.’ I pelted after him. ‘Flynn. Stop.’
He was already flying past the dying bonfire. Into the house.
I ran after him, my breath burning in my chest. As I reached the house, Grace appeared outside the back door, a sleeping bag in her arms.
‘Hi, Riv, did you find Em?’
‘Where’s James?’ I grabbed her arm.
‘What’s the-?’
‘Where the hell is James?’
‘Getting our camping stuff out of the car. Why?’
I turned her round and started walking her past the side of the house. ‘You have to go back. Get in the car. Get James to drive away. It doesn’t matter where. Just away from
here.’
Grace was twisting round, trying to wrench herself out of my grip. ‘What’s the matter, River? You’re frightening me.’
Emmi panted up behind us. She grabbed my shoulder. ‘River, I’m so sorry.’
I ignored her.
‘Grace,’ I hissed. ‘Flynn knows. He knows James and I had that stupid kiss and he’s going to really hurt James if he finds him.’
Grace’s eyes widened. She stood stock-still. ‘Oh my God.’ Her eyes flickered over to Emmi. ‘You
told
him?’ she breathed.
I stared at Grace.
Of course.
That’s how Emmi knew.
‘You told
her?’
Grace’s forehead wrinkled. ‘She overheard something, Riv. That day we were talking about it while she was on the phone to Jean-Luc. She pestered and pestered me until I told
her.’ Grace turned to Emmi. ‘You swore you wouldn’t say anything.’
Emmi was crying now, her make-up running down her face.
‘I’m sorry,’ she mumbled incoherently. ‘I’m sorry.’
Something in my head seemed to snap. ‘Never mind that now.’ I gave Grace a push. ‘I’ll explain it to Flynn when he calms down. Get James. Get out of here.’
Grace gave me a final, terrified look. Then she turned and ran towards the front of the house. Emmi was still standing in front of me, weeping. In that instant I hated her.
‘Get out of my house,’ I said.
‘River. Please, I’m sorry.’
‘Just get out.’
She turned and stumbled after Grace. I waited for what seemed like an age. At last I heard the roar of the car engine and the crunch of the wheels on the small gravel drive.
I leaned back against the wall of the commune, breathing a sigh of relief. At least James was safe.
And then Flynn tore out of the back door. He stopped as he saw me. ‘Was that James’s car?’ he hissed.
I nodded.
Flynn swore. He punched the wall with the side of his fist. ‘I’ll freakin’ get him tomorrow,’ he spat. ‘I’ll go down there and drag him out of wherever he
hides his sorry—’
‘It wasn’t his fault.’ The words blurted out of me. I couldn’t let James take the blame like this. The last thing I wanted was to explain properly what I’d done but
I couldn’t stand by and watch Flynn and James’s friendship fall apart over a lie.
‘What are you talking about? You said he tried to kiss you.’
‘No.’ I shook my head. ‘No. It wasn’t like that.’ I shivered. ‘Look, Flynn, can’t we go to bed and talk about it in the morning.’
I gazed up at him, hoping against hope that somehow we could curl up and hold each other and that he would calm down and that I could explain properly.
Flynn punched the wall again. ‘No, we freakin’ can’t talk about it in the morning.’ He glanced up at the house. The light was still on at the end of the first floor. Dad
and Gemma’s room.
‘Come on.’ He gripped me round the wrist and dragged me back down to the barn. Several of the lamps had gone out, leaving the building feeling darker and colder than before. Flynn
swung me in front of him and crossed his arms. ‘Tell me exactly what happened.’
I took a deep breath and told Flynn everything, starting with how upset I’d been when I saw the faked data on Facebook about him stealing iPads.
‘I thought you’d been lying to me, that you didn’t care about me anymore, so I went to this club with Emmi and Grace and James.’ I went on, emphasising how much I’d
drunk, both before and after arriving at the club. I told him how Slug Tongue had charted me up and bought me yet more drinks – and how, when I realised what he was after, I’d run away
from him.
I finally got to the part of my story where James and I had got into the minicab.
‘So remember I was really drunk. And James was trying to be nice. Trying to look after me, like you’d have wanted him to. Once we were in the cab, I realised how totally out of it I
was . . . how I should just shut up . . . but I couldn’t stop myself from talking and . . . and I asked James if you were with anyone else.’
‘Why would you have asked that?’ Flynn demanded.
‘Because when your Facebook account was hacked whoever did it put up that fake photoshopped picture of you with a girl, remember?’
‘I remember,’ Flynn said, his eyes boring into me. ‘That was just a stupid, faked picture.’
‘I know but . . . I was asking James whether you were with her and I hated myself for doing it . . . I thought he’d go straight and tell you. But I had to know. And when he said you
weren’t with anyone else I didn’t believe him. And I got upset. And he was nice but embarrassed. And then I thought about that disgusting guy who’d tried to kiss me. And . . . and
how it had made me feel sick. And I wanted . . .’
I stopped talking. Only one light was still burning in the barn now. I had no idea what time it was but I knew it was very late. I was tired, so tired. And way beyond cold. I hadn’t been
able to feel my feet for the last half an hour.
I looked up at Flynn. His forehead was screwed up in a frown.
‘What did you want?’ His voice was icy.
‘I wanted to know . . . I know it sounds stupid but I wanted to know if it was always going to be like that. If kissing other guys was always going to make me feel sick . . .’
‘So . . .?’
I gulped. ‘So I asked James to kiss me.’
Flynn stood stock-still in front of me, his eyes on fire.
‘And did he?’
‘Not at first.’ I blushed, remembering how I’d put my face right up to his, then put my lips on his. How I’d laughed. How the movement of my lips laughing had turned into
a kiss. ‘We just moved closer and it . . . it happened.’
Flynn’s whole body shuddered. ‘You kissed each other.’
‘For about one second,’ I pleaded. ‘Then I remembered Grace and—’
‘Grace?’ Flynn took a step away from me. ‘You remembered
Grace
?’
‘She was
there
and I thought you’d stolen Alex’s iPad and might be going out with that girl in the picture.’ Tears welled up and squeezed out of my eyes. This
was coming out all wrong. Fear gripped me around the throat.
‘I thought you said you never doubted me.’ Flynn took another step away. His eyes burned, his breathing was laboured. ‘You said you trusted me.’ He turned and paced
across the barn floor.
‘I did.’ I was sobbing now, wringing my hands. ‘I
do.
Please, Flynn, I love you. I was
drunk.
I’m sorry, I didn’t know what I was
doing.’
Flynn spun round. ‘That’s what my da said after every time he hit my mum.
“I’m sorry, I was drunk, I didn’t know what I was doing.”
’
I stared at him, my whole body shivering.
‘You know what else he said?’ Flynn went on. ‘That it would never happen again. But, guess what, it always did.’
‘But that’s different,’ I said.
Flynn shook his head. ‘I left everything to be here with you. I left my mum, my family, my school. For months I’ve put up with your dad patronising the crap out of me. With this
stupid commune and all its stupid rules and its hippy-shit politics. All for you, River.’
‘I thought you liked it here.’ I stared at him. ‘You never said you thought it was stupid.’
‘I told you a million times,’ Flynn spat. ‘I called it the drop-out centre. Remember? But once I lived here, I bit my tongue about it, every day. Because you were here. And I
didn’t want to make it hard for you. Because I thought . . .’ His voice cracked. ‘I went to a new school. I went to those stupid anger management sessions. All of it total
rubbish. I put up with that creep Leo. I even told him to tell me if anyone gave him a hard time, so I could stop him getting beaten up.’
I thought of the guys I’d seen earlier.
‘And d’you know why I did all that? Even though I was dying to get Leo back for acting so loved-up around you all the time? Because of
you.
Because I couldn’t bear the
thought of you getting cross with me about it. Because I didn’t want to upset you.’ Flynn’s face crumpled. He turned away from me.
I crept round to face him. Tears were welling up in his eyes. I reached up to touch his cheek.
‘Please, Flynn,’ I wept. ‘It was a meaningless kiss. Grace knows – James told her – and
she
isn’t angry.’
‘It’s different,’ Flynn said flatly, pushing my hand away. ‘James was honest. He didn’t let her find out like this.’
‘Yes, but . . . but I’d have told you too, except I knew you’d overreact and—’
‘You think I’m overreacting?’ A tear trickled down Flynn’s cheek. He brushed it angrily away. I’d only ever seen him cry once before, after he’d beaten up his
dad. My body twisted up inside.
‘James was my best friend, River.’ Flynn’s voice cracked. ‘My only real friend. And
you . .
.’
I tried to pull him towards me, but he stood there rigidly.
‘I’m so, so sorry,’ I whispered. ‘Please let’s go up to bed and curl up and hold each other. And . . .’
‘I can’t.’ Flynn strode over to the nearest wall and leaned back against it. ‘I can’t . . .’
I walked over and leaned beside him. ‘Please. We can—’
‘Don’t you understand?’ Flynn’s mouth trembled. ‘I can’t stop seeing you kissing him.’ He thumped his forehead. ‘It’s in here,
now.’
I shrank back against the wall. ‘I love you,’ I sobbed. I couldn’t think what else to say. ‘I love you. I love you.’
‘You’re a liar,’ he said.
‘Don’t talk to her like that.’ Leo’s voice echoed round the room.