The Mute and the Liar (63 page)

No
one
else
seems
to
care
about
this
and
they
all
just
continue
chatting,
laughing
and
pushing
through
the
crowds.

It’s
only then
that
I
see it.
Sasha’s
phone.

He must
have
dropped
it
along
with the
glass
and
hasn’t
noticed.
I
have
to
think
fast,
because
a
stream
of
people
behind
us
are
herding
us
into
the
room
opposite.
I
need
that
phone.
I
need
it.
Can
you
imagine
what
it’s
got
on
it?
I
bet he has
all
his
texts
from Jayce
on
there, and
for
all
I
know,
Sasha
may
well be
in
on
all
this
too.
Maybe Sasha is the one pretending to be Becky.

I
put
my foot
on
the
phone,
shielding it
from
anyone’s view.

*****

We
have
fallen
headfirst
into
an
explosion.
I
can’t
move
a
muscle
because
there
are
so
many
people.
Forget
moving,
I
can’t
even
breathe
it’s
so
hot
and
stuffy.
Altogether,
it
feels
like
we’re all being shaken
about
in
a
crisp
packet.

What’s
more,
the
music
is
at
a
volume
even
tree
surgeons
would
find
controversial.

I
was
feeling faint
with
worry
before, but
just
being in
this
room is
making
me one step
away
from
caving
in.

This
never-ending
oval-shaped
room
appears
to
have
been
a
living
room
once
but
all
the
furniture
has
been
removed
save
for
a
couple
of
sofas
and
chairs
that
have
all
been
conquered
by
couples
trying
to
swallow
each
other’s
mouths.
Now
it
has
been
trans
formed
into
the
main
‘party
room’
fully
equipped
with
a
crammed
buffet
table
running
along
the
left-hand
side
and
a
DJ
booth
taking
up
the
back
of
the
room.
Teenagers
dressed
in
suits
and
balancing
various
forms
of
alcohol
hurry
from
guest
t
o guest like bees
t
o
flowers. It seems the memo all the others received
for outfits
was dressing
with
the
intention
of
actually
undressing.
Hemlines
seem
to
crawl
higher
and
higher
with
every
passing
girl
and
shirts
of
many
boys
have
already
become
invisible.
Feeling
even
more
self-conscious,
I
tug
the
bottom
of my own
dress down.

I’m sure it
belongs
to
Kaylie.
It
reeks
of
her.
Not
literally,
just
in
the way
it
looks
and
feels.
It’s
a
very
black
colour,
a
very
black
one
because
it
somehow
seems
even
blacker
than
normal
black,
if
that’s
possible.
It’s
also
incredibly
short,
the
length
that
would
make
most
nuns
cry.
It’s
strapless
too,
which
would
make
all
the
remaining
nuns
who
weren’t
fazed
by
the
length
break
down.
The
top
half
shimmers
when
the
light
catches
it
and
though
it
pulls
in
at
my
waist
it
puffs
out
a
little
to
give
me
more
of
a
figure
before
tightening
again
at
the bottom,
it
fires
my legs
from their
job
of
allowing
me
to
walk.
It’s
ridiculously
tight
so
I
can’t
breathe
either.
That’s
why
it
could
only
be
Kaylie’s.
Only
she
strikes
me
as
masochistic
enough
to
happily
wear
this
boa
constrictor.

It
even
looks
a
little
like
the
dress
she
is
currently
wearing,
which
is
also
black
and
strapless
but
instead
of
pulling
in
like
me,
it
does
the
opposite,
instead
spilling
outwards
like
a
bushy
tutu
and
is
surprisingly
long,
cutting
off
just
above
her
knee.
Her
electric
blue
ringlets
have
been
pulled
into
a
high
ponytail,
so
now
they
twist
down
her
back
in
spirals.
All
right,
I’ll
admit it.
She
looks
good
.
If
you’re
into
that
whole
gothic,
zombie,
“
I-will-break-
into-your-house-and-steal-your-pillow-so-you-will-wake-up-and-have-no-
pillow
”
look, of
course.

A
glass
of
something
yellow and
fizzy
is
being
pushed
into
my
face.
I
look
up
and
see
it’s
Jory,
who
is
holding
it
out
expectantly.
I
take
it
from his
hands
and
he
gives
me
a
small
smile.
I
know
I
probably
shouldn’t
take
anything
from
anyone
here,
but
it’s
not
like
I
have
anything
to
lose.
And
it’s
only
Jory,
it’s
not
like Ryo
himself
is
giving me the
drink.
I’m sure
it
will be harmless.

I
actually
quite
like
Jory.
He
seems
nice
enough,
or
at
least
as
nice
as
a
friend
of
Jayce
can
get.
Well,
I
wouldn’t
say
I
like
him,
I
just
posses
no
opinion
towards
him
yet,
a
neutral
feeling,
the
same
feeling
I
hope
he
has
towards
me.
It’s
not
like
Kaylie
who
I
hated
before
I
even
met
her.
He’s
okay.