Generation Next (15 page)

I guess I'd realized by then that as gorgeous as she was, Sophia's sharp tongue was one of her less appealing qualities. It was pretty confusing for me. I mean, there I was with this gorgeous, sexy young woman who was all over me, but it was happening so fast and I wasn't sure what it even meant, to me or to her. And yes, I knew that
half the straight male population of the country would have swapped places with me in a millisecond given the chance, but next to Ella, Sophia was just . . . Well, there was no comparison.

Anyway, things quieted down after that, and in the end there was some good-natured banter across the table. Suki, Jess and Chloe were all very cool, smart women, and I was happy to sit back and watch my friends enjoying themselves for a while. Ella, on the other hand, did not look like she was enjoying herself and had gone seriously quiet, so when Sophia headed off to the bathroom to touch up her make-up for what seemed like the millionth time, I leaned across to talk to her.

“What was it you were going to tell me?” I said gently. “It sounded pretty important.”

“Do you know, it clearly wasn't very important at all,” Ella said.

It was one of those statements that us boys never seem to be able to grasp. You know, where a girl will say something and the boy knows that a) there's a hidden meaning in there somewhere and he better figure it out fast or he's dead, or b) she means the exact opposite of what she said and he'd better realize
that
fast or he's dead.

“No, go on. I want to know.”

“Look, we'll talk tomorrow or whenever,” Ella said. “I was obviously—”

At that moment Sophia marched back into the booth and stood directly between Ella and me.

“Let's take a selfie, babe!” she shouted, waving her iPhone above our heads and pouting. “I've not posted anything for hours; there'll be sixty thousand Instagram followers out there who'll think I've literally dropped down dead.”

“If only,” Ava muttered, probably a bit louder than she'd intended.

Ella got up suddenly and grabbed her jacket.

“I think I'm going to go,” she said.

“No, don't go,” I protested, but she'd clearly made her mind up.

Ava stood up and hugged her.

“Are you sure you're OK?”

“I'm fine, really,” Ella said. “I'll call you, yeah?”

Then she was gone and suddenly I wasn't happy anymore. I felt like something really bad had happened and it was all my fault, but I had no idea what it was. Out of Sophia's earshot, I scooted up close to Ava to find out.

“Is Ella OK? She looked a bit—”

Ava covered her face with the palm of her hand and shook her head slowly.

“You absolute knob,” she said.

“I'm sorry?”

“She was about to . . . It's what tonight was all about for her, Jack.”

“I don't understand. What was tonight all about?”

“She wanted to tell you that she confronted Hunter about the video and she believes you,” Ava said. “Before
Miss Reality TV was all over you like a cheap coat, she was going to tell you that she's broken it off with Hunter. She dumped him. Because of you.”

Before I knew what I was doing, I was jumping up from the table and sending glasses flying. I practically skidded across the dance floor and up the stairs, out of the club. Maybe she was still outside, waiting for a cab. Maybe she was . . . No. Too late. Gone. I took out my phone to fire her a WhatsApp message, and then I stopped myself. That wasn't going to cut it. Whatever I had to say to Ella, and whatever she had to say to me, it had to be face to face. It would just have to wait until tomorrow. I would make it up to her then, I was sure of it. Oh, and just in case you were wondering, that was the last time I ever saw Sophia Chance-Addison.

I came home to find Mum and Dad still up talking in the living room, and as it was after two in the morning, I knew I was in for a grilling about where I'd been and what I'd been up to. OK, so I'd literally had about four mouthfuls of champagne that evening, so they certainly couldn't have a go at me about being drunk. Then again, I guess I couldn't blame them for being a little bit pissed off at me. I mean, I'd done my best to avoid them as much as possible since the video debacle; in fact I'd barely seen them for the past week, and aside from a couple of texts I hadn't even been in contact that much. I sneaked in quietly and was halfway up the stairs, thinking I might just have got away with it, when they came out into the hallway. Dad jumped in first, sternly as he always did—bad cop.

“You're having a laugh if you think you can start wandering in at this time every night, son. Can you come down here and speak to us, please?”

“Ah, Dad, I'm seriously knackered.”

To be honest, I just wanted to get into bed, go to sleep and forget the whole evening. I was gutted about what had happened with Ella, and the sooner I was unconscious and didn't have to keep turning it all over in my mind, the better.

“Now, please,” Dad said, in a tone that made it clear there was no argument.

When I faced them in the living room, it was Mum's turn, this time with the softer approach—good cop.

“Jack, we've hardly see you for the last few days; what have you been doing with yourself?”

“I've just been staying at Austin's and hanging out with the GenNext team,” I said, shrugging. “Surely you haven't waited up this late just to ask me that?”

“No, we were up talking anyway,” Mum said, “but we have been a bit concerned about how fast all this GenNext stuff is moving, and let's face it, your behavior hasn't exactly been in character lately, has it? Staying out late, and all that stuff in the video: partying, drinking and running around like a mad thing.”

“I told you about that; my drinks were spiked,” I said, defensively.

“Yes, but the fact is you shouldn't really have been drinking so much in the first place, should you?” Dad said. “Look, I know it's normal for blokes your age to be experimenting with drinking—I get that, Jack, I really do. But given that this company of yours has thrust you
into the public eye—really quite unexpectedly—you do need to be careful about how you conduct yourself. At the end of the day, you're still a teenager who has a year of school left to go.”

This was a reasonably calm demeanor for him, and I was quite surprised he wasn't going nuts at me. As I sat opposite them on the armchair, clocking the deadly serious looks on both their faces, I knew they meant business. Mum sighed, and shifted in her seat.

“Look, I know your project is going really well and we are really supportive of that, but Jack—”

“The thing is, Mum, it's not really a project anymore, it's a business,” I said softly. “We're actually earning some serious cash, I've told you that. I can't think of another job I'd be able to walk into at the moment with these kinds of prospects.”

“What prospects?” Dad said.

“Dad, I spend almost all my time working on GenNext. We've got a company account now and we've even taken on management because we can't do it on our own anymore.”

“How much cash is ‘serious'?” he said. “Because your idea of serious cash and mine are probably—”

“Almost forty thousand last month.”

They both sat in stunned silence for a few seconds.

“For what?” Mum said. “Are you doing something illegal?”

“No, Mum,” I laughed. “It comes through featuring certain products on the channel. We get people reviewing stuff, or just name-checking it, and we get paid by the companies who make it.”

“Well that all sounds very impressive, but you've got to keep us more in the loop,” Mum said.

“And can we agree that you'll cool it with the playboy lifestyle from now on?” Dad added.

“OK, Dad.”

I smiled and nodded. I knew how lucky I was to have the parents I did. They were pretty cool and so easy-going compared to a lot of my mates' parents. I mean, Sai's mum and dad were super-strict, and Ava was always having stand-up shouting matches with her mum.

“Well I'm glad we've cleared the air about that, Jack,” Mum said. “Your dad and I do worry about you and we want to know what's going on in your life, especially with all these big developments happening every five minutes. It's just because we love you and we care, you know that, don't you?”

I nodded and gave her the best smile I could manage given the evening I'd had, but just as I was getting off the sofa, ready to hug her goodnight, she spoke again, almost in a whisper.

“The thing is, Jack . . . well, there's something else that your dad and I need to talk to you about. Something important.”

I sat back down again. There was something about the look on her face that set alarm bells off in my head. She looked pale, and Dad mirrored her expression with his own look of dread.

“I told you I'd been feeling extra tired with all the long hours at the salon,” Mum said. “I suspected something wasn't right, but I couldn't put my finger on what it was.”

I nodded slowly, a sense of dread creeping over me like a black fog.

“Anyway, when I went to the doctor, he suggested I went to see a consultant at the hospital. Now, I've still got a couple more tests before anyone can say anything for definite, but—”

“Anything definite about what?” I said, swallowing hard. “And how come this is the first I'm hearing about you having to go for hospital appointments?”

“There was no point in worrying you if we didn't have to,” Mum said.

The fact that she was telling me about it now told me that there wasn't going to be a good ending to this conversation.

“The thing is, if it was just the tiredness, I might not be so worried, but then . . .”

She was struggling to get the words out, and Dad moved closer to her on the sofa and put his hand over hers gently.

“I discovered . . . I found a lump,” she said.

“A lump? What do you mean?” I almost choked on the words, my breath quickening.

“A lump in my left breast, Jack.”

There was a certain way my mum used to look at me when I was a little kid, whenever I was upset or scared. It was a sort of warm-eyed smile designed to reassure me that I was safe and everything was going to be fine. She was giving me the exact same look now. Only it wasn't working like it always had when I was little. It wasn't working at all. I felt numb, like someone had just hit me really hard.

“So . . . so what does that mean exactly?” I said finally.

“Well, it's not looking like it's going to be good news, Jack. I'm sorry. I just wanted to let you know so you can prepare yourself.”

“Prepare myself, right,” I said in a daze.

This was insane. How could anyone possibly prepare themselves for something like this? I looked up at my loving, kind, beautiful mum and I wanted to shout out in anger and smash something. How was it fair that someone who spent their whole life caring for and looking after people could be facing something as terrible as this? I felt tears pricking against the back of my eyes, but I didn't want her to see me cry. I wanted to be brave because I knew she would be.

“So it's not definitely . . .”

“It's not definitely cancer, no.”

Dad was the first one to actually say the word, and when I glanced over at him, he looked almost as wiped out as Mum did.

“Your mum knows her own body better than anyone, and she knows something isn't right,” he said.

“I'm going in for a biopsy next week. Then we'll know one way or another,” Mum said.

I looked down at the floor and watched as a rogue teardrop escaped from my eye and fell, hitting the carpet next to my foot.

“I'm sorry, Mum. I'm really sorry for everything I've done in the last few weeks. I feel like I've mucked so many things up lately, but it's all going to be better from now on, I promise. Dad and I are going to look after you, aren't we, Dad?”

Dad and Mum both got up from the sofa to come and sit next to me and put their arms around me, and I couldn't help it—more tears welled up in my eyes.

“We certainly are, son,” Dad said.

“Don't start, you'll have me at it,” Mum sniffed, half laughing.

The three of us sat there, arms round each other, for several minutes, while I struggled to get my tears under control. Eventually Mum gave us both a gentle squeeze and pulled away.

“I think we should all get off to bed and talk about this tomorrow,” she said. “Let's not get all drama queen about it until we know for definite.”

I stood up and gave her another hug, taking a deep breath and pulling myself together.

“You're right,” I said. “It might not be as bad as we think.”

“Exactly,” Dad said. “Let's keep positive.”

Up in my room, I lay awake until it was light with a hundred terrible scenarios rampaging through my head. To think that I'd come home imagining that blowing my chances with Ella that night was the absolute worst thing that could have happened, only to be faced with the possibility of something so much worse. I couldn't even begin to get my head around it.

I must have dropped off about half eight in the end, and then I slept. I slept longer and deeper than I had for months, years even. I slept until it was almost dark again.