Friend Request(55)

Maria and Esther were sitting at the far side of the room talking animatedly, one of them leaning in every now and then to shout something misheard into the other’s ear. There was no sign of Tim. As I watched I saw Maria look around quickly and take a miniature bottle of vodka out of her dress and top up the coke with it. Good. That would make her less likely to taste anything else in there.

I saw Esther gesturing to the door near them, Maria shaking her head, and then Esther leaving, presumably to go to the toilet. Maria sipped her drink, then put it down on the empty chair to her right, looking awkward in the way people do when they are unexpectedly left alone in a busy room. This was the best chance I was going to get.

I threaded my way through the room, watching Maria all the way. I probably didn’t have that long, although Esther had gone to the smaller toilet block on the far side of the hall where there was more likely to be a queue. Maria was half-turned away from me, watching the dance floor as I came up on her left. I sat down in the empty chair next to her and she turned, smiling, assuming I was Esther back from the toilets. Her smile faded when she saw that it was me.

‘What do you want?’ Her hand went to the little gold heart around her neck, twisting it so that the tip of her finger bulged red either side where the chain was biting into it.

I thought fast. What was the best tack to take?

‘I wanted to apologise – again.’

‘Apologise? Seriously? Don’t you think you’re a bit late?’ Maria gave a bitter laugh, her face hard with no trace of the forgiveness she had granted me at the party at Matt’s house.

‘I know. I’m sorry.’

‘For God’s sake, stop saying you’re sorry! Where has “sorry” been for the past two months around school? Where was sorry when you put that… that thing in my bag?’

‘Well, that wasn’t me, but I’m so sor —’ I broke off, anticipating her anger.

‘Just fuck off and leave me the fuck alone, Louise,’ she said, standing up. ‘I never want to see or speak to you again.’

She walked off across the hall, but as Esther wasn’t back yet from the toilets she didn’t really have anywhere to go, and I saw her hesitate at the edge of the dance floor, which had filled up since I sat down.

Adrenaline pumped through my veins, my skin tingling with a million pins and needles. I felt breathless with daring and alive with the fear of being caught. I slid my fingers inside my bra and hooked out the package. A group of boys jostled each other in front of me, one of them tripping over my foot. I knew him slightly, this boy. Johnny Majors. He wasn’t cool, but he was funny, popular. He looked down with an apologetic gesture. I smiled, closing my hand around the plastic bag. No problem, I mouthed, the volume of the music making actually saying anything difficult. Johnny Majors smiled at me then, this boy that had never so much as glanced in my direction in five years at school together, his eyes taking in my curves, the flush on my cheeks. There was clearly something in me he had never seen before, something inviting and dangerous. There was a moment, just a heartbeat, where he almost sat down next to me. I had a vision of us talking, laughing, giddy on the newness of it. Imagined him kissing me as I slipped my hand behind me and dropped the little plastic bag and its explosive contents onto the floor behind the chairs, to be found and exclaimed over by the caretaker later.

Then my eyes slid from his laughing face to where Sophie stood on the other side of the hall, her eyebrows raised, gesturing furiously at me. I looked down at the floor, and saw Johnny’s trainers retreating out of my view. I opened my hand and stared at the bag, at the innocent-looking blue powder. I remembered how the E had made me feel at Sam’s party: light, unfettered, joyous. Would it be so bad to make Maria feel that way too? In a deep, secret part of me I knew the answer to that question, but I pressed it down so hard that it had no room to breathe. I buried the part of me that knew we weren’t doing this to make Maria feel good; that we were doing it to humiliate her, hoping to provoke her into making a fool of herself. To go down in school history as the ones who dared to go that bit further. No silly pranks, no knickers on the flagpole. We would bring everyone together in horrified fascination as Maria came up, not knowing why she felt so uninhibited, so full of joy and love. We wanted to see what would happen, and that wanting was stronger than any worries about safety, or the morality of what we were doing.

I looked over at Sophie again, who was still staring at me, no words necessary to communicate what she was saying. I had a sense of being suspended, teetering on the edge of a cliff; and then I was falling, falling: opening the bag, tipping the contents into Maria’s coke, stirring it frantically with the straw, willing the powder to dissolve quickly. My eyes darted around the room, but nobody was looking at me – and even if they did, all I was doing now was stirring my own drink. Unless you looked very closely, you wouldn’t be able to see how much my hands were shaking. I looked down again into the glass – there was nothing to be seen now, it looked exactly as it had before. It occurred to me that actually, I hadn’t quite fallen, not yet. I could take the drink to the toilets and pour it away. My hand hovered around the glass, but as I looked over to Sophie, I saw that she was beaming, her face alight with happiness, her hands aloft in a big thumbs up. Before I could change my mind, I forced myself onto my feet and went over to Maria, who was still standing uncertainly by the dance floor.