The Perfect Girlfriend(76)

He presses ‘play’ and my voice fills the bathroom. It sounds much louder in here than it did back in my flat. Nate lowers the volume but I can still hear. I switch off the bathroom light to create a more cinematic effect. I watch Nate watch me. I know that when I say, ‘Hello, Nate,’ I give a little wave. I nearly edited that part out but, upon reflection, it made me look friendlier. I didn’t want to begin with a stern telling-off, potentially putting him in an instantly defensive mood. Right from the moment of planning this, I intended to start off slowly before building up to what he really needs to hear. I spend two minutes and forty-seven seconds explaining my actions. I find myself getting sucked into my own words and agreeing with my own sentiments. A vein twitches at the side of Nate’s neck. There is a pause before I start the story.

Once upon a time there was a girl, just fifteen, and she was lonely.

Nate jabs ‘pause’.

‘Please don’t tell me I have to sit through some teenage fairy tale. Give me a fucking break!’ He yanks the handcuff. ‘Just tell me what’s on your mind and we can manage without the theatrics. I’m getting seriously pissed off.’

I stand up. ‘Your choice.’

As I reach for the tablet he jabs ‘play’ again. He obviously assumes that his Wi-Fi is working and that he’ll get an opportune moment to send an SOS message to someone.

Very lonely. She had no friends, but it wasn’t her fault. It was the fault of another girl. A mean, spoilt girl who delighted in the misfortune of others. The lonely girl spent hours alone with her own thoughts, dreaming of a different life. A life where something – she wasn’t quite sure what, because her ideas at that point were still intangible and undefinable – but, nonetheless, something momentous would happen one day, which would mean that her life would change from that moment on, obviously for the better. Then, one day, something momentous did happen. And it did change her life, but not for the better. And the lesson this girl learned very suddenly was that things can turn out very differently than expected.

Nate sighs theatrically. ‘How much longer?’

‘Getting longer by the minute. Listen properly or I’ll rewind.’

One day she met her Prince Charming. Not in the type of place she’d imagined, like on an exotic holiday or at a glamorous event in a luxurious hotel. Instead, it was at a low-key ball. And the girl wore a dress; the nicest one she’d ever owned. It was the first time she’d ever felt glamorous. It made her feel like she had a chance to shine. But the thrill of wearing the dress quickly wore off, because she was ignored. Ignored by the boys who attended. Ignored by the mean girls. Do you want to know what colour her dress was?

There is a deliberate two-minute pause, because this is his chance to remember. This is his chance to redeem himself. Not totally – because, of course, that can never happen – but it would at least be a tiny step in the right direction.

I am forced to break the silence. ‘Answer the question,’ I say.

‘Yellow? Pink? Purple? How the fuck would I know or care?’

‘You should care,’ I say quietly. ‘Although it was dark; I’ll give you that.’

I stare into his eyes and will him to recall everything. To acknowledge what he did.

I’ve done this before. I used to stare into his eyes from time to time when we were in bed together, wishing I could claw into his soul and get him to remember. I silently tried to infiltrate his mind with the memory. Yet his eyes, like now, never showed even a flicker of recognition. Not once.

His blank expression shows that he has let me down. Again.

The dress was red. She has never worn red since.

His eyes widen and he grips the tablet tighter. I think pennies may be beginning to drop.

The girl slipped away from the party and went to her favourite spot. A place by the river. It was the secret place where the trendy girls would go and have a cigarette, but often it was deserted. She knew she’d be safe, because they were all too busy being social butterflies. Even when darkness approached, she stayed. Because although it wasn’t quite a full moon, there was enough grey light to see. It was the first time she’d ever tasted an alcoholic drink and she felt a bit floaty and detached. Then, someone joined her. He didn’t know the school so one of the ‘in’ girls must’ve told him where to go. His sister, probably. He lit a cigarette and the flame briefly made his face glow amber. He was handsome. Even though she’d seen pictures of him, he looked even better in the flesh. He pulled off his shoes and socks with his free hand and dipped his toes in the water. He offered the cigarette to her and she didn’t want to say that she had never tried one before, so she took a small puff in a childish attempt to appear sophisticated. It is so strange to think of him smoking now, because he is so anti; the sort of person who wafts away smoke with their hand if anyone lights up nearby.

I realize I am holding my breath as Nate looks up and stares at me. There is shocked realization in his expression.

Finally.

My voice continues. Nate’s gaze drops back to the screen.

They talked for a bit and although she was nervous, she also felt like maybe she wasn’t fat and ugly. When he’d finished his cigarette, he ground it into the soil and the light disappeared. The boy kissed the girl, or maybe they both kissed at the same time. It was her first ever kiss. She thought it would give her instant re-entry into the inner circle. The other girls shared stories of parties at weekends; the boys they’d kissed and more. But then he kissed her harder and everything progressed so quickly. She didn’t want him to stop, because it was so nice not to feel lonely. And there came a point where she didn’t feel she could say no, and she didn’t want to say no. But she didn’t know how – or have the confidence – to slow everything down. She was still wearing her dress, and that felt a bit confusing – even when he helped her lift up her dress and his hand slid up her right thigh and then gently tugged down her knickers – because she’d always assumed that you had to be naked, for some reason. She watched him take down his trousers and then he lay on top of her. It didn’t hurt much. But it also felt wrong, because it wasn’t at all romantic in the way it appeared in films and books; instead, it felt more like how they’d been taught about ‘it’ in biology.