Drop (12 page)

From the canopy, a hand reaches to rescue me. I breathe a sigh of relief. As I’m pulled upright I see the hand belongs to Isaac. He gives me a look of concern, but like I’m a burden. I bet he’s thinking,
Oh, no, I’m going to have to take care of this one.
I wanted it to be Finn’s hand; I think it shows on my face.

“You all ri—?” Isaac begins.

But then Finn appears.

“There you are. You OK?” It hits me again – fresh excitement coursing through me like electricity. Here he is, in all his glory, hair so thick and soft you could weave it and wear it as a winter coat; skin that positively glows. Forget Superman’s laser-beam eyes, Finn could bat his eyelashes and melt metal.

He pulls me through the swirl of sweaty people. He’s strong. If Isaac’s arms are twigs, Finn’s are fully grown branches. Redwoods.

“Come on, tiger.” His lips curl into a cute grin. Menacing. Exciting. But still so cute.

“Dance with me.”

Finn bounces and jumps and it’s like the whole room is one entity pulsing together. What would it feel like to have Finn’s hands on my waist, on the small of my back, to have those arms pull me close? What would it be like to bury my head in his neck and smell his scent? What would it taste like to kiss him? Would his kiss be gentle and soft or full of urgency and passion? Finn’s eyes sparkle with excitement as he dips and sways his head. Coming closer to me, his breath is hot on my ear and my stomach dives.

“Let’s get some fresh air,” he says.

We weave our way to the back door and find Slinky rolling a joint in the garden. Although I’ve heard he smokes a lot, I’m surprised he’s being so obvious. Finn settles on a white plastic garden chair next to Slinky and pulls me to sit on his lap.

It’s dark and the clouds threaten rain. The garden is a long, narrow corridor, black as tar, except where the half-moon illuminates and, further down, candles blink like distant stars.

Slinky passes the joint to Finn. “Ladies first,” he says, handing it to me. I have a long toke. I don’t cough, though it grates in my throat. I haven’t smoked weed before. Can you do it wrong?

I feel a bit light-headed, but I’m in such a good mood that it passes quickly. I’m feeling better than ever, actually. I have a big pull, drawing it in like Finn did when I saw him smoking outside the doctors’ surgery.

He nods to me. “Good, huh?” I nod back and give the joint to him. I exhale, watching the smoke dance fleetingly to the music before disappearing.

Leaning back into Finn, I feel so relaxed. The cold air prickles against my cheeks but the rest of me is warm. Finn pulls his hoodie sleeves over his fingers, forming fists to keep them in place. Impromptu gloves. I’m super-snug against him. I really like the way he feels against me.

Just as I’m getting cosy, he leaps to his feet, taking me with him. “Let’s check out the deal in the ring of fire over there.” He gestures to the flickering flames, the faraway stars. I jog after him.

At the circle, candles scatter intermittent light onto the group. Fragmented by the flickering light, their faces are broken jigsaws I put together in my head.

My blood is on fire. Not in an angry red-hot way, but happy, up. I settle on a patch of lawn. It feels damp, but that’s OK. Everything is OK. I’m here with Finn, at a party, smoking and enjoying a few tinnies. Everything is
definitely
OK. I turn to the girl next to me, Georgia with the mess of curls. She’s smiling and cool, wearing a leopard-print top, black leggings and a thick slick of red lipstick. “Hey, what’s up?” she asks.

I say, “Hey. Nothing’s up, it’s all good. What’s up with you?” Georgia says it’s all good with her. She comes at me then, right in my face, invading my personal space.

“How
you
doing tonight?” I feel like I’m missing a trick, like I’m the last to get the obvious joke. Or maybe I’m just paranoid, like Slinky… I’ve had a few big tokes. Seems like she means doing something other than sitting in this circle of light. Something other than weed and booze.

“Um… Just…” I’m doing … nothing… What does she want me to say? “I’m OK, thanks,” I say. Georgia looks taken aback, like I’m weird. Like I’m a total dullard.

I feel so good just being here, but … I’m missing something, something these guys are looking for. Maybe I can do something else … but what else is there…? I’m a cute bunny rabbit who’s wandered into the lion’s den. More alcohol.
I need more alcohol.

The beer says anything’s a good idea right now. My head says I have an assignment due in on Monday, and this isn’t the time for that. Or is it? My name is Carla Indecisive Carroll and I’m a non-commitalist. Whatever.

Georgia is already pretty pissed. She’s got my arm in a lock like a woodwork vice and starts to chisel away at me.
Where you from? Do you know this song? What’s your middle name? What you studying? What, what, what, what, what, what, what you doing here then? Did you come with Finn?

Jesus, she’s the fucking Riddler. It’s like being in a hit-and-run with a question truck. A tanker has crashed, spilling questions all over me, so many weighing me down I don’t know which to answer first, but… As her eyes dart about, and her mind jumps from subject to subject, I realize she doesn’t really want answers at all.

“Have you met my boyfriend, Greg?” She points to Greg, who nods and raises a hand in acknowledgement.

“Yeah. At the boarding comp, and he’s in my Biology class.” I shoehorn in an answer. She tosses her hair.

“Do you like this bracelet?” She jangles a silver chain with red and blue gemstones in my face. “Where’s your T-shirt from? Is it Topshop? I saw a really cute top there yesterday.”

Before I’ve even half thought what to say she’s rammed another question into my ear. Strange. I don’t think she means to offend. She’s just chatty, in the mood. Happy to talk, but not to hear. I’m envious. I’m too polite not to listen. I wish I was too confident to care.

“Ohmygod, I
love
this song!” Georgia blurts to no one in particular. She jumps up, nodding and swinging her arms, and starts dancing. On her own. Right there in the middle of the ring of fire. But what happens next takes me by surprise. She just smiles at everyone, her candle-lit grin stretching in a dark half-moon across her face. And that does it. We all get up and dance with her. Like, crazy movements. Dad would call it throwing some shapes. It’s magic, awesome. And I think, hell yeah! HELL YEAH!

I get a good look at the others. Greg, tall with blond hair, dancing close to Georgia: he has really white trainers. He whispers something to Isaac, who’s come down the garden and joined in. I didn’t think Isaac would be the crazy dance type, but I guess when the moment takes you… I smile at him and he smiles back. Violet sways to the music, like a goddess.

There are others, too, but then my attention is seized by Finn, who’s spinning in circles and air-drumming and kicking and going and going and going. Hitting the air, over and over like he’s the one making the music. He has this look in his eyes.
He owns the music.

He catches me staring, and pulls me to him. We dance, and I own the music too.

The song ends and another phases in. Finn, Isaac, Violet, Georgia, Greg and I veer off to a secluded corner, under one of those trees with long thin branches that hang to the ground like a giant open umbrella. There are no candles here. It’s kind of mysterious. A lighter rips,
shhhrip
. We have light.

Finn spreads his jacket on the ground. “Don’t want you getting a wet bum, tiger.” He gestures for me to sit with him. I collapse into his arms. Normally I’d be too shy to just fall into him. He might think I’m a clingy sort, but I’m full of beer and it seems like the most natural thing in the world.

I’m cool with just watching and listening. Like I’ve been allowed into some secret world. I feel like I’m popular. I sit, they talk, I listen.

“It’s time!” Greg announces.

“Oh, yes, oh, yes. What have we this week?” asks Finn.

“Doves, mate. Same sort we had at Citrus a couple of weeks ago.”

It’s a cloak-and-dagger operation.
What are they doing?
I mean, is
everybody
doing this? Am I just a late bloomer? The last to hear the big news? Drugs are in again? Er, hello? The eighties called and they want their narcotics back…

I could never imagine doing it.

“Nice one, thanks.” Finn knocks the little white pill back with a swift slurp of beer.

“A dove for my love.” Greg hands one to Georgia and she swigs it down.

“Ahhhh…” she says with a drunk giggle.

Violet swallows hers.

Then Isaac has one. They all seem so unconcerned. No biggie, I bet they think. The clock has ticked its way around to me and now the alarm is sounding. It’s my turn. What should I do? What should I do? I don’t know what to do!

“You want one, Carla?” Greg holds a pill out on the palm of his hand. I feel all their eyes on me. The first day of school, again.

“I … um … I’ve never done one before.” Suddenly I don’t feel drunk at all. I feel stone-cold sober and scared. I’m scared all right. Scared of what it might do to me. Scared of what I’ll do if I take it, or what I’ll feel like. What if I’m sick or something, or die like that girl who drank too much water ’cause she felt like she was totally dehydrated and oh God, I should really say something…

“You don’t have to,” Isaac says. I’m about to say I think I’ll pass, but then they’ll probably never speak to me again. Maybe I should drop. Maybe I would feel … fit in. I’ve never done anything remotely wild, and time is ticking down, sixth form won’t last for ever, after this is uni and then adulthood and the Big Bad World and jobs and mortgages and car insurance and council tax. Before that humdrum vanilla life arrives, here’s a chance to prove I’m more than a strait-laced, head-down study whore. I can surprise. I can be somebody.

“Come on, tiger, it’ll be fun. Trust me.” Finn squeezes my arms in support.

“I … er…” I pause again. They must think I’ve gone a bit loco. Breathe.
Speak
. “All righ—”

“No, mate.” Isaac takes the pill from Greg’s hand, looking intensely at Finn. “Not if she doesn’t want to.”

Finn snatches the pill from Isaac’s hand and for a millisecond I think he’s going to force me to take it. It’s right there, in front of my face, heading for my mouth, and then it’s gone, bypassing mine and into Finn’s.

“More for me, then. I love to double-drop. Right, let’s go dance, kids.” He pivots my head around to face his, and smirks. He kisses me on the forehead, bounces up off the ground and runs back to the house. Back to the music, the crowd and
fun
. He doesn’t even help me up.

Maybe it was a kiss goodbye. I’ve failed the test. I’m such a fool! Why didn’t I have the guts just to do it, like everybody else?

I feel humiliated. I don’t want to walk through the party, so I make for the back gate.

“Carla!” Isaac shouts after me. I keep walking. “Wait, Carla. Where are you going?”

“Home,” I say, without turning around.

“No, stay. Don’t worry about them. It’s nothing. I mean, I like to do them now and then, but—” Anything he says just makes me feel worse.

“Forget it. I’m going home.”

“Let me drive you. It’s a long walk. And it’s dark.”

“You can’t drive. You’ve had a pill. I’ll call my dad to pick me up.”

“I’ll walk you then. It’ll make the trek from yours back to the party
vvvvvery
interesting.”

I check my phone, but it’s out of battery. “No juice,” I whisper, defeated. “OK.”

Moonlight shimmers on the pavement. My arms prickle with cold now the alcohol buzz has worn off. I feel a little sick.

“Are you cold?” Isaac asks.

“Not really,” I lie. I don’t want any more charity from him. Or to throw up on his jacket.

Then it starts raining, like glitter at first, then full-on golf balls. We duck into a bus shelter, but I’m already soaked through.

I wring out my hair and wipe under my eyes with my sleeves. My eyeliner will be everywhere.

Raindrops stick to Isaac’s eyelashes and twinkle in the half-light. He looks a little like Finn, but less groomed.

“Those guys are pretty hard core,” he says. I shrug. “Don’t feel you have to say yes to all that stuff.”

He doesn’t want me hanging around his brother; I can feel it.

“They seem OK.” I feel vomit rise in my throat.

“I guess. You haven’t done them before though, right? You looked pretty scared.”

What do I say to that? Yeah, I’m a total loser drugs virgin?

“Where did you come from?” he asks.

“As in, which planet?”

Am I completely out of touch with normal teenage life because I’m not snorting something every weekend?

“Er, no … like Birmingham, Suffolk, the moon?”

“Hold on. I think I’m going to hurl.”

Isaac grabs my soaking hair and holds it back. I’m not sick but I do let out an enormous burp. Great.

“That was a belter. Feel better?”

“I am so mortified.”

“Must be some kind of crazy moon creature if you can make noises like that. Never heard anything like it on earth before. Kinda gross.”

“Sorry.”

I tell him about Nottingham and Mum’s career trajectory.

“I’m going to uni there, if I get in,” he says.

“I wished I could have stayed.”

“Maybe you’ll go back one day. Rain’s stopped. Let’s go.”

He probably wants me to leave tomorrow and get out of his and Finn’s lives for ever. It’s like I’ve upset the balance of their social group.

We cross the park. The wet grass glistens under the bright moon.

Isaac is quiet. I’m still mortified.

He walks me to my door, and though incredibly polite, he doesn’t seem to want to be with me for longer than necessary.

“Night,” he says, before jogging off.

“Hey, thanks for walking me, and for … you know,” I call out, but Isaac doesn’t even look back.