Lobsters (27 page)

‘Yeah,' Robin nodded. ‘Unless she's
so
cool that she doesn't even go to her
own
parties. Is that a thing? Do you think some people are so cool that they organize parties and don't even turn up?'

We all ignored Robin's questions and shuffled our way out into the garden. It was mayhem; even busier than the first party. Four girls were lying flat on the trampoline while two drunk
blokes bounced them up and down energetically. They shrieked with glee. There were clusters of people covering every single blade of grass. All you could hear was laughter and screaming and clinking glasses.

I spotted Hannah's mates Tilly and Grace sitting with a group of boys by the fence. They didn't clock us. I didn't want them to either. I wanted to see Hannah before I saw anyone else.

We ducked back into the kitchen. There was still no sign of Hannah or Stella in there. Robin edged towards the fridge and pulled the door open. He yanked out four cans of Red Stripe.

‘We'll just have a quick break for light refreshment.'

He cracked his open and handed one each to me, Chris and Ben.

‘Ah!' he said, smacking his lips and wiping the froth off his chin. ‘That's better.'

Two short, pretty girls with thick black eyeliner and punky, peroxided hair sidled over and barged in front of us. They were both scowling at Robin.

‘Oi!' said one of them. ‘Those are our beers, man!'

‘I'm terribly sorry, ladies,' said Robin, in his plummiest accent. ‘But my friends and I have opened them now, so it's probably best if we finish them too.'

‘You what, mate?' snarled the other one.

At this point, Chris cleared his throat behind them. They both turned round to look at him, beaming his brightest, toothiest, I-should-have-been-a-male-model-iest grin down at them. Instantly, their frowns dissolved into coquettish grins. They both began twirling clumps of their bleached hair round their fingers.

‘Oh no, sorry,' giggled the first one, still melting in the heat of Chris's smile. ‘I guess you guys can have them. Share and share alike, right?'

‘Thanks so much,' said Chris. ‘That's so kind of you guys.'

‘Yeah,' added Robin. ‘Nice one. So, are you having a good night so far?'

Notwithstanding the fact that the numbers didn't add up (two of them, four of us), I wasn't particularly keen on the idea of chatting up angry punk girls in Stella's kitchen. My mind was only on one thing.

‘I'm going to find Hannah,' I said. I'm not sure any of them heard me. Chris was nodding politely as the first girl outlined how upset she was at getting an E in Sociology, while Robin and Ben began an in-depth dubstep discussion with the other one.

I left them all to it and muscled my way through the kitchen and out into the corridor. I even checked the Harry Potter's bedroom cupboard that we'd hot-boxed last time. There was nothing in there but a mop and some boxes. I thought I could still smell a faint odour of weed. I tiptoed my way up the staircase, dodging several drunk couples pulling. I crept up to the toilet – that same toilet where we'd first met – and tried the door. It swung open, and there, in tears, sitting under that intense, Ribena-coloured shower, was Hannah.

She flinched as the door creaked back to reveal me standing on the threshold. Her eyes were swollen and damp, and her freckled cheeks were traffic light red. My first instinct was to rush over and throw my arms around her, but the look on her face stopped me.

‘Sorry', I said. ‘I didn't … I wouldn't have come in if I thought you were in here.'

She blinked slowly, releasing two fresh streams of tears down her cheeks. ‘You shouldn't have come at all, Sam. What are you even doing here?'

Her voice was hard and angry.

‘I'm sorry, I just had to see you again,' I said. ‘I was … I acted like a twat at the festival. I was drunk and stupid, and I got things twisted up in my head. I didn't mean to say all that stuff. I don't care if something happened between you and Pax.'

She let out a loud, despairing cry, and hauled herself up to her feet.

‘Me and Pax!' she yelled, her body quivering with rage. ‘Who gives a fuck about me and Pax? There never even
was
a “me and Pax”!'

I stepped towards her, trying her to interrupt.

‘I know, I know, I'm sorry, Han—'

‘No!' she cut me off. ‘You can't just come here and say sorry, and expect everything to just magically be all right.'

‘I don't know what else to say,' I shouted. ‘I told you I was drunk, I behaved like a twat! I feel horrible for the things I said.'

‘The things you said?' she laughed, bitterly. ‘What about the things you
did
, Sam?'

I opened my mouth to speak, to tell her I didn't know what she meant, when an image of Panda drunkenly waving her phone at the sky outside the Mad Hatter's Tent flashed into my head.

‘I saw you, Sam,' she said, softly. ‘You went straight outside
and pulled her. Like that whole day never happened.'

I felt like I'd been punched in the stomach. The thought of her standing there watching as I kissed Panda was unbearable. The words scrambled across my tongue, as I tried desperately to explain.

‘Hannah, I'm so sorry,' I garbled, breathlessly. ‘I don't know what I was thinking. I got it into my head that there was something between you and Pax. I'm such an idiot. All I wanted was you, and I fucked everything up.'

‘You really hurt me, Sam,' she said. Her anger was gone; it was like she'd yelled herself empty. She just looked tired, standing there limply with her arms dangling down by her sides.

I couldn't take it any longer. I reached forward and pulled her towards me.

‘I'm sorry,' I whispered. ‘I really am.'

For a second, I held her hot, trembling body against mine. And then she broke away. The tears were working their way steadily down her cheeks and on to her chin.

‘It's not that easy,' she said.

I wasn't listening. All I could think about was holding her. I pulled her back into my arms, and kissed her, feeling the wet warmth of her cheeks against mine. She pulled away again, and stared right into my eyes, breathing heavily. Then she grabbed me by the shoulders and kissed me back. We stood there, under the shower nozzle, clinging to each other, gasping for air between kisses.

That was until Hannah's mate Grace came bursting through the bathroom door, red in the face and panting.

Every time I'm getting somewhere with Hannah in this bathroom, that girl
always
has to come in and fuck it up.

‘Hannah!' she yelled, barely even registering me. ‘There you are! You've got come downstairs
now
!'

17

Hannah

‘What is it?' I said.

‘Just come. Right now'

‘What's happened Grace?'

But she grabbed my arm and was dragging me. Her grip was painfully tight. I didn't even have time to process what had just happened with Sam.

‘Grace. What the fuck?'

‘I don't know. I don't know.'

That was all she said. The music had been turned off and people were starting to leave. There was a circle of girls all focused on something. Grace pushed through, and Sam and I followed her.

Stella looked impossibly small. Lying there she could have been a seven-year-old. Her head was banging against the floor violently. It was knocking so hard against the wood that the noise vibrated round the room. There was a trickle of sick coming out of her mouth but her movements were spraying it on to her top and around her face. Something came out of her nose and was running towards her eyes. She wasn't there. Her whole body was writhing and moving but she wasn't conscious. Her eyes
were all white.

‘She's having an epileptic fit.'

Sam was beside me.

‘We need to call an ambulance.'

Grace looked at me. ‘Charlie was here. He … they … I think he gave her … something.'

‘Fuck. Oh god.' I knelt next to her. I was too scared to even touch her. ‘Where's Charlie?' I demanded.

‘Gone,' Grace said.

‘Well, someone call him and ask him what the fuck he's done to her!'

Sam stepped forward and knelt beside me. I felt his hand on my shoulder.

‘Hannah, go and get a cushion from the sofa. Grace, call 999 now. Tell them she's taken drugs but you don't know what sort.'

‘It was coke. She told me.' Tilly said it quietly. She was starting to cry.

Sam spoke to the emergency services and followed the instructions, answering all their questions calmly. He told everyone to leave but they were going anyway. People don't want their parents associating them with drugs, out-of-control house parties and ambulances.

It was only when the paramedics came in and Sam stepped aside that I saw his hands were shaking.

‘Two people can come with us,' said one of the paramedics.

‘We'll go,' Sam said, looking at me.

In the ambulance they asked us questions. Her date of birth, her blood type, her allergies, and whether she had any
pre-existing medical conditions. I knew everything about her. As much as I knew about myself.

The whole way there she carried on convulsing. In the end they strapped her to the bed. It was barbaric. I couldn't believe it was happening. I couldn't look at it.

‘You all right, dear?' the paramedic asked me. I just nodded.

A & E wasn't like it is in American films. Loads of people didn't rush her into a room with this massive sense of urgency. They took her away and wheeled her behind a curtain. I caught glimpses of people behind other curtains. An old woman in a pink nightie looking confused. A little boy sitting up in bed playing on an iPad with his mum next to him.

We told the woman at the front desk everything we had already told the paramedic. They didn't tell us what to do. So we went and stood looking at Stella. She was stiller now. Her tiny body in the middle of the bed. Every so often she would jerk and her eyes would half open but she still wasn't there.

Eventually a nurse told us that the doctor was going to examine her and that we could go and sit in a room down the corridor.

‘I'll come and get you when the doctor's finished,' she said.

We sat down next to each other, staring out at the posters about bowel cancer and how to spot meningitis. And then it hit me.

‘We have to call her parents.'

I knew I had phoned their house in Italy before, when Stella had been there one summer but I couldn't find the number on my phone.

‘Will your parents have it?' Sam said it gently. As if he knew my parents hadn't entered my head.

I nodded. How much I wanted them suddenly hit me.

‘What time is it?'

‘Half twelve.'

They would almost definitely be asleep. It rang twice before Mum answered.

‘Hannah. Are you OK?'

I wanted to say something but I didn't know what words to say in which order.

‘Stella … Stella …'

I wasn't crying. I just couldn't make my mouth move.

Sam touched my shoulder and took the phone out of my hand.

‘Hi, is that Hannah's mum? This is Hannah's friend, Sam. Hannah is fine but Stella is in the hospital. She's had a seizure.'

Had a seizure? Is that the parent-friendly expression for taking a drug overdose?

He gave my mum information. She said they'd be there in twenty minutes.

I put my head against Sam's shoulder. And then the nurse walked in. We shot to our feet.

‘We need to do some blood tests and we're going to admit her to a ward to monitor her, but she is stable and she's going to be OK. You can see her in ten minutes or so.'

It didn't feel like a weight had lifted. It was like I could feel myself and how tired I was and that I was real. Like my senses came back.

Sam

I honestly thought she was going to die. I've never seen anyone die before but she looked the way people look when they're about to die on TV. Spluttering and gargling and blinking in and out of consciousness. Fucking terrifying. I don't think I'll ever be able to watch
Casualty
again.

I don't know what came over me at the party. I'm not usually the sort of bloke to start telling everyone what to do and organizing everything. But no one else seemed to be taking charge. Even Robin looked too freaked out by it all to step in. And I
really
thought she was going to die.

At the time, I was in autopilot mode, not stopping to think about what I was doing, but afterwards I felt quite proud of myself. Mainly for not fainting when Stella did that eyes-rolling-back-in-the-head thing that made her look like the girl from
The Exorcist
. That's something else I can't ever watch again.

After the nurse told us Stella would be fine, me and Hannah collapsed back on to the ridiculously uncomfortable seats in the hospital waiting room, exhausted but relieved. I texted Robin and Chris to let them know everything was all right. Then I spoke to Hannah's parents and asked them to come to the hospital.

We sat in silence beneath a flickering white strip light. After the last hour of shouting and sweating and worrying, it felt strange to be so still and quiet. The waiting room was empty except for us. That intense moment in Stella's bathroom suddenly seemed like a long time ago. Hannah was just staring straight
ahead at the wall. I wished I had even the slightest idea what she was thinking. Why the hell are girls so impossible to read? I can tell exactly what's going on in Robin's head just by the way he hunches his shoulders.

‘So, that Charlie bloke sounds like a right knobhead,' I said, just to punch a hole in the silence.

‘Yeah,' she nodded. ‘He's a twat. At least Stella knows it now, I guess.'

‘I don't think I could ever take cocaine,' I said. ‘I hate stuff going up my nose. I can't even use those Vicks inhalers when I get a cold.'

‘Were you one of those kids who had to use vapour rub on your chest instead?'

‘Yeah,' I said. ‘So, when they invent a form of cocaine that you can rub into your chest, I'll be all over it.'

She laughed quietly, and then shook her head. ‘God, I'm so glad Stella is going to be OK.'

We slumped back into silence again, listening to the low hum of the lights and the faint clip-clop of feet echoing through the corridors around us. I gritted my teeth and decided to try another apology.

‘Hannah, I really am sorry about what happened that night at the festival. I'm such an idiot.'

She unfurled a few strands of hair from behind her left ear and chewed them. God, I had missed seeing her do that. She stared blankly into the wall as she chewed, apparently absorbing what I'd just said. Finally, a very faint smile spread across her face.

‘I don't know,' she said. ‘I'm not sure “idiot” is quite strong
enough, to be honest.'

I laughed out of sheer relief. ‘No, no, it's not! It's way off. What about “twat”? I'm a twat?'

She cocked her head to one side in consideration, her smile widening gradually. ‘Twat's better,' she said. ‘Still not quite there.'

‘Fucking twat?' I offered immediately. ‘Massive fucking twat? Massive fucking idiot twat dickhead.'

Her smile was now at full stretch. ‘I think that just about covers it, yeah.'

‘I could go on. I'd be happy to try a few more variations until we've got it right.'

‘I don't think that'll be necessary, but thank you.'

I was on a roll. I decided to go further.

‘Look, I know this sounds stupid and cheesy, but I really like you, Hannah. I've spent all summer liking you.'

She blushed. I was blushing too, but I didn't care.

‘So, it just seems stupid that we don't keep … seeing each other. What do you reckon?'

‘Yeah,' she nodded. ‘I'd really like that.'

I edged closer to Hannah and put my arm on the back of her chair.

‘What are you doing?' she asked, grinning.

‘I was trying to put my arm around you in a charming, sexy, subtle way.'

‘Yeah, there's nothing sexier or more charming than a hospital waiting room.'

I withdrew my arm. Hannah laughed. Then she clasped my
hand tightly.

‘Shit, Sam, I forgot to ask about results! Did you get into Cambridge?'

With everything that had happened in the last hour, I'd completely forgotten about Cambridge.

I shook my head. ‘No. I fucked up French. I didn't get in.'

Her face dropped and her grip on my hand tightened. ‘Oh, no. I'm so sorry. Are you all right?'

I thought about it. Weirdly, I did feel all right. I had a whole year ahead of me to figure out exactly what I wanted to do. It didn't feel daunting; it felt exciting.

‘Yeah,' I said. ‘I am all right. I'm really all right.'

‘Well, that's good.'

‘So, what happened with you?' I asked, my cheeks still faintly smouldering from the ill-prepared ‘I really like you' speech. ‘Were your results OK?'

She nodded. ‘Yeah. I got in, so that's good.'

‘Got in where?' I couldn't believe that after all this time I didn't even know where she'd applied.

‘York.'

‘York?' My stomach did a perfectly executed backflip. York was my second choice. The place there was probably still mine if I wanted it.

I looked across at Hannah, still chewing a strand of her straw-coloured hair and smiling that wide, bright, incredible smile. I wanted her, I was sure of that, but maybe we could make it work between us even if she was in York and I was London, America, or
anywhere
. If we wanted it badly enough, it would happen. And
I
did
want it badly enough.