Never a Perfect Moment (4 page)

SEVEN

“Ready?” asked Polly.

Eve looked like she had been carved from a piece of stone. Her breathing was shallow and nervous. Polly had never seen her so scared.

“How do I look?” she said, licking her lips.

Eve's make-up was as perfect as ever, and her glossy auburn hair hung on her shoulders like red-gold satin. Compared to Eve, Polly felt like a scruffy little urchin, even though they were wearing the same school uniform. More acutely than ever, she felt the difference between herself and Eve.

“Gorgeous,” said Lila. “I would fancy you if I was gay.”

Eve gave a terrified smile. “I wish I could say the same of you, Lila.”

“If you can make jokes,” said Rhi, pressing Eve's arm in encouragement, “then you're as ready as you'll ever be.”

“You do look amazing,” Polly said honestly.

Eve pulled her lipgloss from her bag and swiped it across her lips. She straightened her shoulders and fussed with the lapels on her blazer. Then she nodded.

“Let's do this,” she said.

They walked around the corner, towards the white steps that led to the reception area of Heartside High. Four of them in a row, arm in arm. Eve's head was held so high it was a wonder she could climb the steps without stumbling over her feet.

“Nice weather we're having,” Lila commented.

“This isn't the time to talk about the weather,” said Rhi through compressed lips.

“Just trying to make small talk.”

Polly could see that Lila was almost as nervous as Eve.

“Only very boring people talk about the weather,” said Eve through tight lips. “I am not a boring person. I give the best parties in Heartside Bay, whatever journalists might say.”

“Hear, hear,” said Rhi.

The steps seemed to go on for ever. People were starting to look, and whisper.

Eve detached herself from Polly and Rhi and pushed open the double doors.

“Good morning,” she said, to the startled lady on reception.

“What are you doing, Eve? No one ever says hello to reception!” Lila hissed as Eve marched towards the corridor.

“I am not no one,” said Eve with a glacial stare.

The corridor from the reception to their lockers had never felt so long. People were looking now – really looking. Stopping dead and pointing. Polly had to admire Eve's bravery as she strode on, hair bouncing glossily on her shoulders.

When they turned the corner, Polly felt Eve grip tightly at her hand. A group of year eight boys were hanging by the sports trophy cabinet, watching their approach. The boys sniggered.

“Lezzers,” came the inevitable whisper as they walked past.

“Cockroaches,” Eve responded smoothly, striding on.

How did she do it? Polly wondered in awe. How did Eve make the hardest thing in the world look completely effortless?

The only sign that Eve was struggling was the marble-white colour of her cheeks and the sensation of her long, beautifully manicured fingernails digging into Polly's skin. They were digging deep, and it hurt. Polly bit her lip and took the pain.

“Are you OK?” she whispered. “Do you want to leave?”

Eve shook her head wordlessly.

“Nearly there,” said Lila.

“Keep going, Eve, you're doing brilliantly,” Rhi said.

They reached the year ten lockers. The chattering crowd around the locker doors fell silent. Polly couldn't bring herself to look for Ollie, or Max, or any of their other friends among the watchful faces. Beside her, she felt Eve falter.

Eve's locker door had been covered in pictures of beautiful girls in swimsuits, draped over car bonnets and posing provocatively with glossy pouting lips. The word LESBIAN had been written in marker pen down the centre of her locker.

Lila and Rhi stood nervously by as Eve regarded her locker door. The world felt to Polly as if it was standing still.

Rhi reached for one of the pictures, her fingers curled and ready to tear it down.

“Don't,” said Eve. A little colour had returned to her smooth cheeks. She seemed to be standing straighter, looking more like the Eve of old. “I quite like it.”

There was a gasp, and a titter of laughter. Eve turned to face the crowd, flicking her hair back over her shoulders in the gesture Polly knew so well.

“I'm gay,” she said with an elegant shrug. “It's hardly groundbreaking. Get over it.”

There was a moment of shocked silence. Then someone laughed. It sounded warmer than the sniggering year eights. Eve's startling announcement seemed to have broken the tension.

The crowd slowly dispersed, heads together. Polly thought there was a more thoughtful air in the murmured conversations she could hear. She let out a breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding.

“Whoa,” said Lila, brushing her fringe out of her face. “That was intense.”

Eve opened her locker door and started steadily placing her books in her bag. “It was,” she said. “Wasn't it?”

“You were so cool, Eve,” Rhi said, shaking her head with admiration.

“They don't call me the Ice Queen for nothing,” Eve said, and gently closed her locker door.

A year eight girl Polly recognized was standing there, her hands pressed together, looking at Eve. Polly's heart jumped as she recognized her. The girl had got in Eve's way once, and earned one of Eve's famous put-downs. She wasn't the only person in the school Eve had been unpleasant to, Polly realized. Half the student body had suffered from Eve's jibes one way or another. Was this girl going to say something horrible? Enjoy a slice of perfect revenge?

Eve raised her eyebrows. “Did you want something?” she said, in the kind of voice that discouraged conversation.

The year eight girl looked Eve direct in the eye. “I wanted to thank you,” she said.

Polly glanced at Rhi and Lila. She knew they were wondering the same thing. Had they heard right?

Eve was also looking confused. “You do?”

“You just did something really brave,” said the year eight girl. “I saw the whole thing. I'm gay too, but I've never had the courage to tell anyone. And then I saw you stand there and face everyone and say that. It makes me feel like maybe I can say it too. Thank you.”

Polly could see that Eve was struggling to find a response.

The girl was still looking at her. “You're a real inspiration, Eve,” she said steadily.

Eve stepped towards the girl and hugged her.

“I'm glad,” she said, holding her tightly. “Good luck. Don't worry about what people say. Your real friends will stand by you.” She glanced at Polly, Lila and Rhi as she spoke. “Remember that.”

“I will,” said the girl gratefully.

Polly didn't think she'd ever felt so proud of anyone in her life.

EIGHT

Polly stood in front of the mirror curling her hair, gazing unseeingly at her reflection. It had been such a strange week. Half of it had felt unreal. Ollie and the locket, the newspaper and the whole thing with Eve at the lockers. Ollie had texted to apologize to her about being insensitive about Eve, and she had texted back to apologize for storming off. Rumours about people's sexuality were a sensitive subject for Polly, because of the hurtful things that had been said about her mum when she had come out as gay. She felt like Ollie should have realized that and been more understanding in the first place. But here she was on Friday evening, finally getting ready for the most important date of her life.

She felt as if she was going to be sick.

Something was wrong. Normal people didn't feel sick before going on dates. Polly reminded herself how long she'd wanted to go out with Ollie. It didn't seem to help. If anything, it made it worse. What if she'd built her whole life towards this moment, and then it all went wrong?

It's just normal nerves
, she told herself.
Nothing more than that.

But was it really normal to feel so shaky, and so sweaty, and so completely lost?

She put her hand to the locket around her neck. It felt warm against her palm. She hadn't taken it off since Ollie had given it to her.

She hadn't told anyone that Ollie had asked her out on a date yet. It still felt wrong to be happy when her friends were all in crisis.

She had put on more make-up than usual tonight, using a dark eyeshadow, lip liner and even false eyelashes. She wasn't entirely sure it suited her, but boys seemed to like girls who wore make-up. At least, if Eve was anything to go by.

She finished curling her hair. The black dye had been a mistake, she knew that now. The starkness did nothing for the colour of her skin. But it was too late to change it for tonight.

Polly laid down her curling iron, put her head on her dressing table and groaned quietly. This was all too overwhelming. And she hadn't even started on her outfit.

I can't do this
, she thought.
I have to cancel.

But if she cancelled, Ollie might never ask her out again. He'd go out with one of the pretty football-team groupies that hung around at practice instead. Maybe it was better that way. They would be a better match, surely. Despite telling herself this, Polly's heart still leaped when there was a knock at the door. She dropped her phone with a clatter. Ollie was early!

She jumped up, and dashed frantically for her wardrobe. Grabbing a blue dress off its hook, she yanked it on and rushed down the stairs with her heart in her mouth. Could she tell him to his face that she didn't want to out with him any more? She quailed at the thought.

“Hi, Polly. Can I come in?”

Eve was through the front door before Polly'd had the chance to process that it wasn't Ollie at all. Polly pulled herself together with difficulty.

“Eve? Is everything OK?”

“No, everything's terrible.” Eve was already halfway across the hall floor, one foot on the stairs. “Your room's up here, right? It's been a while since I was last here.”

Polly followed Eve up the stairs.

“I remember this,” said Eve, looking around at Polly's neatly ordered bedroom. “Not a sock out of place. Your room is the calmest place I've ever been.”

Polly sat down at her desk as Eve seated herself at the end of the bed with her legs elegantly crossed.

“What happened to your face?” Eve asked, looking at Polly properly for the first time.

Polly decided not to answer that. “The more important question here is,” she said, “what happened to
you
?”

“Where shall I start?” Eve sighed. “I came out to Daddy last week. He was completely brilliant about it, of course. But then my idiotic little sister heard the rumours at school today and told my mother when she got in from ballet, and she is a different story. She looked at me like I was some kind of alien.”

Polly had a nasty feeling Eve was about to cry. “It's probably the shock,” she said.

“When she stopped screaming at me, she said it was just a phase and I'd grow out of it,” Eve said bitterly. “I told her sexuality wasn't an old pair of trousers.”

Polly giggled in spite of herself. Only Eve could make comparisons between sexuality and fashion.

“Anyway, she's threatened to send me away until I come to my senses,” said Eve, rolling her eyes. “It's all too embarrassing, apparently. How is she supposed to tell her friends?”

Polly felt a sudden deep stab of sympathy for Eve. She had always been quite close to her own mother. Although they fought sometimes, Polly knew she could talk to her mum about anything and her mum would always be there for her. It was clear that Eve and her mother had a very different kind of relationship.

Eve's chin wobbled. “I wanted to talk to Daddy about it, but he's so stressed and busy with work that I can't get five minutes alone with him. Mummy's already so freaked out about the bad publicity Daddy's getting in the papers that this has made her flip completely.”

“That's awful,” Polly murmured.

Eve pushed her hair back over her shoulders. “So basically, I wondered if I could stay with you,” she said.

“You want to stay here?” said Polly in surprise.

“I can't go back home.” There was a pleading look in Eve's steel-grey eyes. “Please let me stay.”

“Of course,” Polly said automatically. What else could she say? “Mum won't mind. We can put you in the spare room.”

“I'd rather be in here with you,” said Eve. Tears glistened in her eyes. “I don't want to be alone.”

“Fine,” said Polly. “I'll get the camp bed out.”

Eve looked alarmed. “A camp bed? Is it horribly uncomfortable?”

Do you want to stay here or not?
Polly thought, feeling a little irritated. “It's really comfortable,” she assured Eve. “But we have an air bed too, if you'd prefer that.”

“That sounds lovely,” said Eve doubtfully. “Thank you, Polly. You're a real friend.”

It took twenty minutes to locate the airbed, which had been stowed away in the loft. With some difficulty, Polly yanked it out from underneath a pile of coats and blankets, and tipped it down the loft ladder.

“Do you want a hand?” Eve asked as Polly attached the pump to the airbed valve and started pressing it down with her foot.

“Don't worry about it,” said Polly. “I can do it. Did you have a bag?”

“I'll call my driver,” said Eve, pulling out her phone. “He'll drop some bags round for me.”

Pumping up the airbed was hard work. Polly had broken a sweat before it was half-full. Eve lay on Polly's bed, talking bitterly about the things her mother had said to her.

“She told me she was ashamed to be my mother. Charming. Chloe wasn't much better. She just giggled every time Mummy said the word ‘lesbian'.”

When the airbed was full at last, Polly fetched a sleeping bag from the airing cupboard and shook out the dust. Eve wrinkled her nose.

“It looks like the last person to use that sleeping bag was Napoleon,” she said, with a little laugh. “Luckily I don't have a dust allergy. We'll be as cosy as two bugs in a rug, won't we?”

Polly heard the doorbell for the second time that evening. Her stomach lurched. In all the drama with Eve, she'd forgotten about Ollie!

“Expecting someone?” said Eve, sitting gingerly on the airbed as if she expected it to burst on impact.

“Excuse me a minute,” Polly said. Her heart was pounding so hard, she wouldn't have been surprised if it had jumped out of her mouth altogether.

Eve waved a hand. “Be my guest. I'll be here when you get back.”

Polly hardly dared look at herself in the mirror. She had a nasty feeling her make-up had smudged in all the wrong places. The blue dress was now crumpled and marked with sweat patches from when she'd been pumping up the bed.

She slowly opened the front door.

Ollie looked a little startled. “What did you do to your face?”

“Make-up,” Polly blurted. It was clear from the look on his face that it looked weird.

Ollie collected himself. “I hope you like roses,” he said, holding them out.

He looked completely gorgeous, while she just looked like a clown. All of Polly's dreams felt like ashes in her mouth.

“I'm really sorry, Ollie,” she gulped, holding on to the door. “I can't go out with you.”

Ollie's face dropped. “What?”

“Tonight, I mean,” Polly said quickly. “I can't go out with you tonight, Ollie, I'm really sorry. Eve is upstairs, and she's having a crisis. I have to be here for her.”

Ollie lowered the flowers. “What do you want to help Eve for? She's never exactly been nice to you, Polly. This is our date. I've been looking forward to it. I thought you'd been looking forward to it too.”

“She's my friend.” Polly really wanted Ollie to understand. “And she needs me. She's staying here tonight.”

“In your room?”

“Yes, in my room.”

“You're not … becoming
attracted
to her, are you?” Ollie asked, with a funny look on his face.

Polly couldn't believe he'd just asked her that. How ignorant could you get? She felt a little strength seeping back into her.

“Being gay isn't contagious, you know,” she said coolly.

“Right,” said Ollie. He sounded unconvinced.

Polly felt on the verge of tears. Why was everything so hard? “Sorry about the date,” she said quietly, closing the door on Ollie before she fell apart. She rested her head on the inside of the door and squeezed her eyes tightly shut. Didn't Ollie understand
anything
? How could he be the right guy for her if he really thought you could just become gay? As if it were a choice! She had no other option but to cancel the date. She had a friend who needed help. She wasn't the type of girl to just throw everything away for a boy. Maybe she and Ollie just weren't meant to be.