Good Me Bad Me(47)

Toby. A fish on a riverbank, a gasp here and there. His hand does not leave his dick. Sweaty and wasted, and fucked by a girl. Footsteps on the stairs, Toby moves to stand up, pride does that, it motivates. White tacky deposits gather at the sides of his mouth, a line of sweat on his upper lip. The smell of his sex cloaks around me, deep from inside his glands.

‘Bitch,’ he says to me.

Hugo, Huggy to his mates, arrives at the door. I walk towards Clondine.

‘Dude, where the fuck have you been, I’ve been looking for you for ages. There’s some seriously crazy shit going on in the kitchen.’

You could say the same up here.

Toby wipes his dehydrated mouth with the back of his hand, gestures towards us.

‘Just having a bit of fun with the local wildlife, you know how it goes.’

‘Excellent work, mate,’ Huggy replies. ‘But next time give me a shout, share the fun, there’s a good boy.’

They leave, arms round each other’s shoulders. Smug. Carefree. One with a dick that requires ice, not sympathy. I hear chanting, a game, the beer bong in full swing. Clondine sits on the edge of the bed. Legs, jelly and weak, her head in her hands. She cries, mumbles about feeling stupid.

‘Don’t worry,’ I say. ‘I won’t tell Phoebe.’

She looks up at me. Make-up, black. Panda eyes. Sick in her hair. Confused.

‘Why would you tell Phoebe?’

‘I thought maybe she liked him, I saw him hug her when he arrived.’

‘She used to but not any more, not since she met Sam. Fuck, I’m such an idiot. I’ve liked him for ages, I thought he liked me too.’

I offer her the elastic band from my wrist.

‘You should wash your face, you can use this to put your hair up if you like.’

She’s unsteady on her feet so I help her into the bathroom, I hand her a flannel I find in the cabinet under the sink. Use warm water, I tell her. It’ll help.

I ask her if she needs anything else, she replies, ‘Will you stay with me, just in case?’

I nod. Her words are slurred, bloodstream full of who knows what.

‘I bet he tells everyone I’m a cock-tease.’

‘There’s a towel over there, dry your face.’

‘Oh god, what a mess. I hope he doesn’t come back, you don’t think he will, do you?’

‘No.’

‘How can you be so fucking calm?’

Practice. I’ve had plenty.

I shrug.

‘I didn’t know Phoebe had a boyfriend.’

‘Shit, did I tell you that? Don’t tell her I told you, she doesn’t want Mike to know.’

‘Do you know him?’

‘It’s just some dude she met over the summer, he lives in Italy I think, they email each other all the time. I can’t get my hands to stop shaking.’

‘It’s shock, it’ll stop soon.’

‘How do you know all this? You knew what to do when Georgie fell as well.’

‘I read a lot.’

She leans into the mirror, uses a corner of the facecloth to wipe away the smudged mascara from around her eyes.

‘Ugh. My mouth tastes disgusting.’

‘Gargle with some mouthwash.’

‘Why are you being nice to me, why did you come and help? We haven’t exactly been nice to you.’

‘You sounded scared.’

‘I was. So stupid. Oh god, I hope he doesn’t tell anyone, I’ll get such a rough time at school.’

‘I know what that feels like.’

She turns to face me, pupils large one minute, pinpricks the next, as she struggles to focus.

‘Look, Milly, I guess I owe you a thank you about what just happened.’

‘Well at least you remember my name, as in not dog-face.’

Decency to blush, a little, even when wasted.

‘I guess I owe you an apology as well. I’m sorry we’ve been total bitches to you, it was supposed to be a laugh but it’s got a bit out of hand.’

‘Why me?’

‘I’m not saying it was all Phoebe’s fault, but most of it was her idea.’

‘I don’t think she likes me very much.’

‘She doesn’t like anybody who Mike fosters. He’d promised not to take anyone else for ages then you turn up, she’s hardly going to welcome you with open arms, is she? Fuck, I think I’m going to be sick.’

She kneels on the floor, wraps her arms round the toilet, dry heaving like Clara when Georgie fell. When she stops I ask her if she needs anything.

‘A new life,’ she replies and laughs, swivelling her body round to face me.

If only it was as simple as that.

‘Don’t tell Phoebe I said this, but you know she’s jealous of you, right?’

‘Jealous? Of what?’

‘All the time you spend with Mike.’

‘It’s not like that, there’s just some stuff going on at the moment.’

Some pretty big stuff.

‘Yeah, well, it’s not like she’s got her mum, is it?’

No, but let your drunken, wasted, disloyal lips tell me why. Please.

‘I’d kind of noticed they weren’t very close.’

‘How can you be close to someone you hardly know? God, I still feel like chucking up.’