Gemini Rising (12 page)

Not to mention how upset she was. The thing is with Nathalie, she’s not quite as straightforward as she seems. She may be quiet and shy, but there’s more going on in her head than most people imagine. Last year, when her parents were going through a ‘bad patch’ and Amie Bellairs was being particularly obnoxious to her, she kind of had a meltdown. She didn’t turn up at school and we found out that she had run away from home. She stole her mum’s credit card, jumped on a train and refused to come back for three days. When she did return, her parents went mad and then tried chucking loads of money at the problem – her mum bought her a whole new wardrobe and started sending her to see a fancy therapist after school. She still goes, every Thursday. Since then, things have calmed down, but the memory of that time is still enough to leave me worried.

The phone rings again, and again Pete groans when no one else makes a move to answer it.

‘Sorana! Phone! Nathalie!’

‘I’m just going to get the other phone… Thanks, Pete – you can hang up now. Oh my God, Nats! I am
so
glad to hear from you!’

‘Really?’

‘Yes, of course, really. I mean, I know you were really drunk last night, but you don’t need to worry about it. I’m just glad you made it home all right.’

‘I’m surprised you even care, you’re so obsessed with Elyse these days.’

‘That’s not true! I’ve tried really hard to include you, and now you’re blaming me.’

‘Whatever. Well, you’ve got it all wrong. What happened last night wasn’t my fault. Elyse has been trying to push me out and none of you have even noticed.’

‘I’m sure that’s —’ I don’t even get the chance to finish my sentence.

‘Last night, I think Elyse spiked my drink. I think she planned the whole thing.’

‘Oh, come on! That’s crazy – you were drinking more than any of us, and she didn’t force you.’

‘Well, I know how I felt and it wasn’t right – and I know it was
her
. You don’t have to believe me.’

‘No, actually, I don’t,’ I say, surprising myself. ‘I know you’ve got your own problems, and if you feel pissed off and embarrassed or whatever about last night – fine. But don’t go blaming it on Elyse. That’s really low.’

‘Yeah, I get it – I’m just the crazy poor-little-rich-girl, who everyone makes fun of, and Elyse is just
so
amazing.’

‘Look…’ I take a deep breath ‘…I really don’t want to talk to you when you’re being like this, OK?’

‘Fine with me,’ Nathalie says, and puts down the phone.

It feels so weird not talking to Nathalie all this week at school. I’m feeling pretty down about it. Obviously I see her around, but we’ve been giving each other a wide berth. It just feels like there’s no point in talking at the moment, although I’m sure we’ll work it out eventually. She seems to feel the same way, as she hasn’t tried to get in touch again and seems to be avoiding me as much as I am her.

The rest of us are holed up in the common room at lunch, because it’s raining outside and we can’t be bothered to do much else. Our little gang is lounging about by the window, staring at the grey road outside and picking at Mel’s Tangfastics. There are a couple of other small groups of girls crammed into the too-warm common room, and the smell of damp woollen school uniform hangs heavy in the air. It’s one of those days when the world seems like the most depressing place it’s possible to live. I’m not sure where Nathalie is – I guess she’s eating her lunch in the pavilion.

‘I’m so bored, this is tragic. Nothing ever happens.’

I should really know by now not to say this sort of thing around Elyse, for fear of what she might do
to
‘make something happen’, but it’s so true I can’t help myself. The only noises in the room are the turning pages of Shimmi’s gossip magazine – she nicks them off her mum so it’s not even one of the good ones. Alex Hall and Alice Pincott are perched on the sofa, but they are uncharacteristically quiet. Whether they’re keeping out of our way on purpose is debatable.

‘I wouldn’t be so sure about today being boring, if I was you,’ Elyse tells me, although this seems ridiculous. ‘In fact, our charts are looking quite interesting. A day for adventure, for taking a chance, I’d say – what do you reckon?’

‘Ooh, look!’ Shimmi suddenly interrupts, abandoning her magazine and peering out of the window. ‘Boys – real-life male of the species – three o’clock.’

This may sound interesting in theory, but I barely even bother to give a second glance. Shimmi’s sex-crazed enough to smell fresh meat whenever a boy-creature is within a ten-mile radius, but usually she talks big and then it turns out to be a forty-year-old school caretaker or her own — first! — cousin Taz, who is two years younger than us.

‘They look all right, actually,’ I am incredulous to hear Elyse say.

At this, I follow Shimmi and Elyse’s gaze across to the other side of the road. There are two boys – men, really – who look a few years older than us. I can’t make out the details, but I can see checked shirts and denim, a flash of woolly hat, oversized trainers. Townies – in their early twenties – nothing to get overly excited about. I look away pretty quickly, but Elyse cranks open the window and leans outside into the rain.

‘Hey!’ she shouts, and then impressively pulls off a fingers-in-the-mouth wolf whistle. ‘Check this out, boys…’

I find myself watching in slow motion as she strips off her school jumper and then lifts up her shirt to show her enviably well-filled black lace bra. It’s only a quick flash – three seconds at the very most – but
still
. The whooping and catcalling from over the road begins. Shimmi giggles, and the rest of us literally don’t know what to do with ourselves. I’m not even sure whether I’m impressed or revolted – probably both, with a good old-fashioned dollop of jealousy mixed in.

Laughing like it’s no big deal, Elyse beckons the men over to beneath the window. Although it’s always seemed like an unbreakable line, when they come and lean over the fence, they are hardly any distance away. Hanging halfway out of the window, Elyse makes conversation as though this is completely normal.

‘Hey, hang on a minute – don’t I know you? You’re mates with Gareth, right?’

It turns out that they do know Gareth, and they’re called Ben and Steve. They’re waiting for their friend Colin to come and pick them up, then they’ll hang out and do ‘nothing much’ for the afternoon – i.e. they’re clearly total stoners.

‘So, girls,’ Ben or Steve says. ‘Why don’t you come with us?’

A second’s thought flashes across Elyse’s face and, to my surprise, I can see which way she’s made up her mind.

‘Will you catch me, then?’ she asks provocatively, chucking her schoolbag out of the window and then climbing out after it.

And she’s free, just like that.

‘Come on, Mel. Shim?’

There’s no question that Melanie will go with Elyse; she’s not even offered the choice. She lands heavily below the window, and doesn’t look thrilled about it. Although the boys obviously do – I guess one flashing schoolgirl is excitement enough, identical twins even more so.

A car pulls up and the driver honks his horn – it’s probably not a good idea to be caught loitering outside the local girls’ school on a weekday lunchtime. And not just any normal girls’ school – this is the famously cloistered ‘Virgin Megastore’, as the neighbourhood lads like to call it.

‘Shimmi?’ Elyse calls up. ‘Last call – are you coming or what?’

Shimmi only looks at me for a second, and I can see she’s already gone. She disappears out of the window after the others without thinking about it – typical Shimmi. Leap now, think later. She grins at me as she drops awkwardly onto the grass below, and gives a conciliatory little wave.

They all turn away then, as if that’s it. They’re already gone. They don’t even bother to ask me, because they know I’ll just say ‘no’. And it really, really pisses me off. A second ago, I’d had my excuses all ready. This sort of thing is impossible to pull off in a school like ours. Those guys aren’t that hot anyway. Most of all, I just really, really don’t want to.

‘Hey, wait for me!’

As I prepare to jump, I notice Nathalie standing in the doorway. I jump out of the window and Elyse catches me.

There aren’t enough seats in the car. I’m crammed in the middle with no seat belt, and squashed in on both sides. Luckily, Colin shouts over the blaring stereo that it’s not far. Elyse is soon nodding along to their crap music, smoking a cigarette out of the car window, holding an intense conversation with Ben. Shimmi’s wedged on her lap, making faces and laughing.

I’m so glad Mel’s here, too. She seems just as uncomfortable, as awkwardly quiet, as I am. Colin pulls into the car park of a block of flats. It’s an area of town I don’t know well. I know it’s ridiculous to feel apprehensive about going into an ordinary block of flats in the suburbs – but this is definitely not the same as the usual going round to somebody’s house while their parents are away.

As we pile out of the car, I’m loitering at the back of the group, when I feel something cold brushing tentatively against my fingers. I look up and see Mel’s huge eyes, and she takes my hand in hers. We walk up the steps to the flats together.

Inside, on the fourth floor, it’s so very dull that I wonder what I expected. Everything is familiar, but just slightly off. The curtains are standard cheap ones that I recognise from Ikea, but they smell of cigarettes. The kitchen is perfectly normal, but it is absolutely filthy.

As we settle in, they all seem to know the drill so well – except for Shimmi, who is great at faking. I keep quiet. I half need to go to the loo, but I’m too embarrassed to ask which door it is – I can see into the corridor from here and it could be one of three, all closed. I nick one of Elyse’s cigarettes just for something to do, but I’m worried about smoking it inexpertly under scrutiny. There’s a small space left on the sofa, which I’m too embarrassed to take, so I perch cross-legged on the floor. It’s really uncomfortable and I wish I hadn’t, but once I’ve committed I don’t want to move and draw attention to myself.

I inwardly marvel that this whole alternate world must go on all the time, while we’re locked away at school. Cans are opened. Spliffs are rolled. Phone calls are made to see who is around. The TV is switched on and computer games plugged in. Thankfully, I soon realise, no one is paying any attention to me. I take a can of beer that I don’t really want, and drink it anyway. I shuffle over to Mel and we huddle together to chat over the virtual gunfire and noisy conversations going on around us.

‘Are you all right, Mel?’

‘Yeah… Are you?’

‘Um, I suppose so.’

There’s so much I want to talk to her about, but Elyse walks past us and sits down on Ben’s lap, and we lapse into silence. Unlike Shimmi – who is doing her best to flirt with Colin as well as Steve, grinning at Elyse and already onto her third can of super-strength lager. I want to take her aside and tell her to calm down, but it wouldn’t do any good. I can’t shake the feeling that she is out of her depth and doesn’t know it – at least I am aware that I don’t know what I’m doing and am prepared to admit it; Shimmi’s determination to join in blindly often strikes me as a recipe for disaster. I’m sure she’s heading for a fall one of these days. She sees me staring and makes a face.

I know I shouldn’t have come here if I’m going to be like this; I shouldn’t have tried to prove something that isn’t even true. I decide that drinking is the only thing that might get me through, and start knocking it back with the same dedication as Shimmi, only slightly grimmer.

I keep drinking and let the conversations wash over the top of my head, and soon I drift off into a bit of a daze. I find myself wondering if Mel inhabits this state all the time – serene, slightly away with the fairies – and almost envy her. It’s not unpleasant at all.

While Shimmi does her slightly desperate best to impress Colin, Elyse is holding court with Ben
and
Steve. It’s completely effortless and they’re mesmerised. Even though there’s a surplus of girls, I can see why they would flock around Elyse like this rather than attempt to talk to Mel and me. Obviously Mel is just as stunning as Elyse, but there is something watchful and delicate about her that encourages distance; I can see why they would be more wary of her.

Occasionally Elyse shouts over, ‘You all right, Sorana?’ and grins at me like we’re in this together and, for a moment, I think it was worth me taking the risk and coming with them. Then, after we’ve all been sitting around and drinking for what might have been hours, suddenly everything changes.

Mid-conversation with the boys, Elyse looks across the room and fixes her stare onto Mel. She moves her head almost imperceptibly, until Mel gets up and walks over to the sofa. It’s like a secret signal, some sort of telepathy. There’s some whispered but heated discussion between the two of them. Looking pissed off, Elyse stands up and pulls Mel out into the hallway – peering around the corner, I can’t hear what they are saying. I can only hear low, urgent voices, punctuated with ominous silences.

When they eventually emerge, the quiet is punctured by Elyse laughing loudly as if everything was fine all along. She puts her arm around Mel in a grip that looks a tiny bit too tight.

‘It’ll be fine. Off you go.’ She gives her a little push.

With Elyse’s eyes glued to her the whole time, Mel stands up and walks slowly through one of the doors, into a bedroom – following Steve, the only remaining one who doesn’t have Elyse or Shimmi draped all over him. Before the door closes behind her, Mel looks once over her shoulder, right at me.

I look to Elyse for some indication of what’s going on, some reassurance, but she is still laughing. Shimmi doesn’t even seem to have noticed that anything has happened. This only leaves me and I have no idea what to do. I feel completely alone and ask myself again what the hell I’m doing here.

I reach over for another can of beer and realise that I am very, very drunk. I’ve been sitting still for so long, I probably couldn’t stand up straight if I tried.

There is a knock at the front door, and I actually jump, spilling a bit of my drink onto my school skirt. All I see is the shape of a man in the hallway, the sound of muffled conversation, cash and small plastic bags changing hands. It’s a moment before I realise it’s Gareth Next Door.

‘Elyse, what the hell are you doing here?’

Elyse looks amused at the sight of Gareth, but he sounds weirdly annoyed.

‘What does it look like? Making myself at home. Take a seat, why don’t you?’

She proceeds to ignore him, but he sits down exactly as she suggests and doesn’t take his eyes off her.

I suddenly realise that Gareth is not alone. Skulking around in the doorway – as usual, it would seem – is Jago. He’s even better looking than I remember – all angles and messy hair and eyelashes. More to the point, he is wearing a Trouble Every Day T-shirt, the same one that Elyse and I both own. It must be, as Elyse would say, a sign. I am suddenly, joyously, glad that I came.

I watch him out of the corners of my eyes as he slouches into the room, opens himself a beer and sits down on the carpet near me. Half of me desperately wants him to talk to me; the other is terrified that he will. I shoot a glance in Elyse’s direction; fortunately, she is not paying any attention.

‘I don’t know what I’m doing here,’ Jago murmurs eventually, looking over at me through those impossible lashes. He looks like a sad puppy – a sad, sexy puppy.

In his bemusement at his surroundings, and the fact that he clearly doesn’t fit into this scene at all, Jago looks and sounds like I feel. I can’t figure out if it’s an act. There’s something dangerous about him that I can’t put my finger on – even beyond Elyse’s warnings about his character. He’s undeniably good-looking, but there’s something about him that scares me – he looks like there’s too much going on under the surface, behind his sleepy eyes and crocodile smile, not necessarily good.

I still don’t know which side of me is going to win. There is silence.

‘Neither do I,’ I whisper, not looking directly at him, as if he’s the sun.

‘I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. I’m Jago.’

‘Yeah, I know who you are.’ This comes out way more aggressive than I intended it to – he must think I’m a schizophrenic or something already. ‘I’m Sorana.’

‘That’s a pretty name. I know you’re friends with Elyse, but you know what they say – don’t believe everything you hear.’

He sounds surprisingly flippant about it and it instantly gets my back up. He seems pretty pleased with himself when he clearly has no right to be.