The Art of Not Breathing(47)

The bus drops us in the center of Inverness, and Lara leads us straight to a bar.

“Head up, look confident,” she whispers as we join the queue.

I can’t believe it when the bouncers let us in. I had my fake birthday in my head just in case.

She gives me a tenner and tells me to go to the bar while she visits the ladies’ to touch up her makeup.

“I’ll have what you’re having,” she says.

The bar is hot and sweaty, and Beyoncé is belting out from a speaker. Everyone is really dressed up, and I suddenly wish I had tried to squeeze into one of Mum’s sparkly tops. The girls are all in high heels and tiny skirts. But even with my new appearance, I wouldn’t want to get my legs out. I put flip-flops on because Lara said they would be better than trainers, but now they are stuck to the floor and my feet are covered in beer.

I finally get to the bar and order two shandies. I think he’s going to ask me for ID, but he eventually asks, “Lager or bitter?”

“Lager,” I say, and give him the tenner.

While I wait for Lara, I get jostled and spill half the drinks. I close my eyes and imagine that I am under the water and that I have all the space in the world. Tay is there, gliding beside me. And then, in my daydream, he starts to talk.

“What are you doing, Elsie?”

I open my eyes and he’s right in front of me. I blink. It’s weird seeing him outside the Black Isle. He looks different. His hair has grown longer too, and hangs over his eyes. He’s still wearing his black jeans, but instead of a T-shirt or hoodie, he’s wearing a checked button-down shirt. Punch him or hug him? I can’t do either because I’m still holding two pints.

“Aren’t you going to say hi?” he asks, as though he just saw me yesterday. I tighten my fists around the glasses.

“Danny said you were back.”

This has the desired effect. Tay flinches.

I sip my pint, not knowing what to say.

“Can we talk?” he says. “Somewhere quiet?”

“I don’t think there is anywhere quiet.” Beyoncé has turned into Katy Perry. All I want to do is get out of here. Where the hell is Lara?

“I need to find my friend.”

Tay looks around. “What does she look like?”

“Skinny, long mousy brown hair,” I say, which pretty much describes most of the girls in here.

But we don’t have to look for long. She’s at the other end of the bar, and she’s not alone. She’s with Dillon.

Where do all these people keep coming from? Did Lara know he was here? I honestly thought he was at home in bed.

“Shit,” I say.

Tay stiffens beside me. He must recognize Dillon from the party at the Point.

“Let’s get out of here,” Tay says, taking the pints from my hand and placing them on the bar. He grabs my wrist and we start to walk out, but it’s too late.

Dillon blocks our entrance, and Lara stands next to me. She looks upset.

Before I can say anything, Dillon gets right up to Tay and punches him in the nose. Even with Katy Perry blaring out about how she kissed a girl, I hear the crack.

“Fuck,” Tay says into his hands, bent over.

I’m too shocked to move. Dillon just stands there panting, holding his fist, blowing on it.

“Take the fight outside,” someone yells.

“What the hell are you doing?” I shout to Dillon.

Then Tay stands up and throws a punch back. He catches Dillon under his chin, and Dillon staggers back, knocking his head against the door.

Lara goes to him. “He’s bleeding,” she wails. “We need an ambulance.”

This is all too surreal.

“You just hit my brother,” I say to Tay.

Tay’s nose is bleeding all over his shirt. “He started it.”

We all go outside. Lara is completely hysterical, fussing over Dillon, checking his head for cuts, and yelling for someone to call an ambulance. Tay and Dillon pace about, trying to stop their bleeds, staring each other out. The air out here isn’t much cooler than the sweatbox we just came out of.

“Christ, Dillon, we were only talking,” I explain.

I go to him and look at the cut on his chin. It’s pretty small. It could have been a lot worse. Dillon is taller, but Tay definitely has the muscles.

“I’m going home,” I say to all of them. “Thanks for a lovely evening.”

“You can’t leave us,” Lara wails, indicating herself and Dillon.

“Elsie, wait,” Dillon says. “I’ll take you home.”

I shake my head and walk off. My flip-flops don’t make for a very dignified exit, but it doesn’t matter too much, because before I have a chance to look back, Tay is next to me, bundling me onto a passing bus.

He drags me to the spare seats at the back, and all I can do is sit down before I fall down. I have a few tissues in my pocket, so I give them to him. He nods thank you and holds them up to his nose. He’s got a black eye, too. That was some punch.

“What just happened?” I ask.

“Your crazy brother punched me in the face.”

“I wasn’t asking for a literal explanation. And don’t call him crazy.”

“Sorry.”

“Seriously, what just happened?”