Loveless(66)

She tiptoed over and crouched down next to me, spilling a drop of her drink on the floor.

‘Where’s Rooney?’ she asked.

I just shrugged.

‘Oh. Well, I have come to challenge you to a Capulet vs Montague duel.’

‘The bouncy castle thing?’

‘This is so much more than a bouncy castle, my dude. This is an ultimate test of endurance, agility and mental fortitude.’

‘It looks exactly like a bouncy castle to me.’

She grabbed my wrist and hoisted me up. ‘Just come and try it! Jason said he needed a nap already so he’s gone back to Castle.’

‘Wait … He’s gone?’

‘Yeah. He’ll be fine, you know he’s terrible at staying up late.’

I immediately felt guilty – it was my fault Jason was in a mood – and I clambered to my feet, only for the world to move around me, nearly sending me crashing back down.

Pip frowned. ‘Jesus. How much have you drunk?’

‘Oh,’ said Pip as we entered the marquee.

At first, I assumed she was referring to the state of the marquee. When I had come in here at the start of the night, it had been shiny and exciting, colourful and new. Now it looked like a run-down fairground. The floor was sticky and scattered with trampled popcorn. The stalls were less busy and the staff operating them looked tired.

But Pip wasn’t referring to any of that, which I realised when we were approached by Rooney in her Bond villain dress.

She was still, impossibly, wearing her heels, and she must have just touched up her make-up, because she looked radiant. Highlighter shimmering, contour as sharp as a knife, she smiled down at Pip with wide, dark eyes.

She was also obviously quite drunk.

‘Excuse me,’ she said, smirking. ‘Who invited you? You’re not a John’s student.’

Pip smirked right back, immediately going along with the joke. ‘I snuck in. I’m a master of stealth.’

‘Where did you go?’ I asked Rooney.

‘Oh, you know,’ she said. She put on a voice that made her sound like a rich heiress. ‘I’ve just been around, darling.’

‘We were just about to have a bouncy castle battle,’ said Pip. ‘You can join us. Someone’s about to get absolutely wrecked.’

Rooney smiled at her with a hint of menace. ‘Well, I do love wrecking people.’

‘OK,’ I found myself saying. If I had been sober, I probably would have just let this play out, but I was drunk and tired and fed up with both of them, and every time they gazed at each other with that fiery passion that bordered love and irritation, I wanted to die because that would never happen to me. I looked at Pip, whose bow tie was askew and her glasses too far down her nose, and at Rooney, whose foundation was not hiding the flustered blush on her skin.

And then I looked between them at the ‘Capulet vs Montague’ challenge.

‘I think you two should go first,’ I said, pointing at it. ‘Against each other. Just to get it out of your system. Please.’

‘I’m in,’ said Rooney, meeting Pip’s glare with knife eyes.

‘I … OK,’ Pip spluttered. ‘Fine. But I’m not gonna go easy on you.’

‘Do I look like the sort of person who likes it when people go easy on me?’

Pip’s eyes drifted down Rooney’s dress, then quickly back up. ‘No.’

‘Well then.’

This was becoming absolutely unbearable, so I walked up to the guy operating the contraption and said, ‘These two want a go.’

He nodded wearily, then gestured at the two raised platforms. ‘Climb on.’

The two girls didn’t speak as they clambered on to the bouncy castle, Rooney kicking her heels off as she went, and then on to the two raised platforms. This was clearly more difficult than either of them had anticipated – Pip’s skinny trousers were only slightly more practical than Rooney’s tight dress – but they made it, and the guy handed them each what looked like a swimming pool noodle.

‘You have three minutes,’ he droned, gesturing to the countdown timer on display at the back of the bouncy castle. ‘The aim is to knock the other person off their platform before the time runs out. Are you ready?’

Rooney nodded with the intense focus of a tennis player at Wimbledon.

‘Fuck yeah,’ said Pip, gripping her noodle.

The guy sighed. Then he pressed a button on the floor, and a beep sounded three times. A countdown.

Three. Two. One.

Start.

Rooney went straight for the jugular immediately. She swung the noodle wildly towards Pip, but Pip saw it coming and blocked it with her own noodle, though not without wobbling on her platform. The platforms were circular and could only have been half a metre in diameter. This probably wasn’t going to last very long.

Pip laughed. ‘Not fucking around, then?’

Rooney grinned. ‘No, I’m trying to win.’

Pip thrust her noodle forward in an attempt to push Rooney backwards, but Rooney swerved her torso, doing an almost ninety-degree bend to one side.

‘All right, gymnast,’ said Pip.

‘Dance, actually,’ Rooney shot back. ‘Until I was fourteen.’

She swung the noodle at Pip once again, but Pip blocked it.