Pretty Twisted (10 page)

‘No, thanks. I’m too cute to get drunk.’

He rolled his eyes. ‘You know what you are, Ros? Uppity. And, if I’m not mistaken, just the slightest bit bitter.’

I folded my hands behind my back, a little embarrassed. ‘I’m not uppity. I just like to know where I am and right now, I don’t.’

‘Nah, you’ve got issues. Parents smack you about or something?’

I wasn’t sure if he was teasing or not. ‘My mum walked out on us. Does that count?’

My pocket vibrated and I took my phone out. Jonathan had texted me:
OK?

I quickly replied:
think so.

‘Boyfriend?’ asked Hugh.

‘What makes you think that?’

He pointed to my cheeks. ‘Gone pink. I’m happy for you.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I was beginning to think you were a total killjoy.’ He winked. ‘Whether you’re afraid of being hurt, or protecting yourself, whatever, way too controlled isn’t healthy.’

Thinking of the lies I’d told Jonathan, I said, ‘If anything, I’m out of control. I’ve dug myself into a hole I can’t get out of.’

‘Long as it’s not a hole a coffin goes in, you’ll get by.’ With the air of a philosopher, Hugh said, ‘Love’s good when it’s there, crap when it screws you over, but what it does do is tell you who you are – that’s what I say.’

I was spared replying by the entry of the Jack Russell. Dropping down on to my knees, I offered him my hand. The dog sniffed at it, then butted his head against my leg. Despite myself, I giggled.

‘Is he your dog?’

‘He’s no one’s dog,’ said Hugh. ‘Found him outside the house about two months ago and gave him a doughnut. Next morning he was still there, and somewhere along the line he ended up staying. Good job he’s got comedy value, cos he’s an ugly mutt.’

I had to agree. The dog’s coat was mucky white and he had a scar across his muzzle and the end of one ear was missing.

‘What’s his name?’

Hugh shrugged. ‘We just call him Dog.’

So no one cared about him either. I scratched Dog behind the ears.

‘I’ve always wanted a dog,’ I said. ‘But my dad says it would be too much work.’

‘Then you need a guttersnipe like this one. Dog isn’t any work at all; even takes himself for walks if you let him out, and he’s more than happy to eat takeaway leftovers.’

‘Is it healthy to be feeding a dog McDonald’s?’

‘Hey, even we don’t feed the dog that crap! No, his favourite is chicken in satay sauce.’

Through the gap in the door I saw that Abby and Brian were on their feet.

‘Better join my friend,’ I said. ‘Thanks for showing me the pics.’

Hugh waved. ‘See you later.’

I caught up with Abby going up the stairs to the third floor. I saw another dusty staircase leading further up – Gabe hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d said the house was huge. Abby was in a giggly mood and I wished I felt comfortable enough to join in. We spent an hour or so looking at Brian’s jewellery. It was interesting at first, but soon the necklaces started blurring into one, and Brian kept droning on in far too much detail about how he’d made each piece. I could also tell that he was itching to get rid of me, but I wasn’t sure whether Abby wanted me there or not. So I hung about, feeling awkward and more and more aware that time was marching on. When it neared half nine, I said in a small voice, ‘Abby, we should go.’

Abby made a face. ‘Ros is saying we need to head out,’ she said to Brian. ‘It’s just this really stupid curfew our parents have.’

‘Do you want to leave?’

Abby shook her head until her dangly earrings danced. ‘No, I mean, I’m having a really good time.’

‘Don’t then,’ Brian said, as though it was as simple as that.

Alarmed, I grabbed Abby’s arm. ‘Your mum and dad get twitchy if you’re even five minutes late, remember?’

She glanced at me, then at Brian. He shrugged, looking bored, and went out of the room.

‘Thanks for that,’ said Abby, staring after him. ‘Now he thinks I’m a stupid little kid. So will Claudia.’

‘Your parents will freak – you know they will.’

‘Not if I tell them I’m staying over at yours.’ She took out her mobile. ‘They think I’m at your house anyway. We could just stay a little longer, then get back ages before your dad comes home.’

‘What if he’s back early? What if your parents mention it to him sometime?’

‘Oh, stop being so boring, Ros! Go, if you so desperately want to. I’ll make my own way home.’

‘You know I can’t do that. I don’t trust these guys or Claudia anywhere near enough to leave you.’

‘What exactly do you think they’re planning, for God’s sake? If they were going to murder us, don’t you think they’d have done it by now?’

For a moment I wondered if I was being way too suspicious, like Hugh had said. ‘Do you really like Brian this much?’ I asked.

Abby fiddled with her necklace, not replying instantly. ‘Well, yeah. And I bet if this was
Jonathan’s
house you’d be lying to your parents too.’

This made me feel guilty. She had a point.

‘OK, we’ll stay,’ I mumbled. ‘Like, half an hour. No more.’

‘Yeah. Half an hour, just so they don’t think we’re really uncool. Then I promise you we’ll go.’

Jonathan

9.00 p.m.

Think so
– not the most informative text, but at least it told me Ros was still in one piece. So I settled down to watching ‘The Caves of Androzani’ on my computer. I was excited about ‘Androzani’; according to everything I’d read on the Internet, it was one of the best
Doctor Who
serials ever made. When I’d mentioned this to Ros, I hadn’t been expecting her to post me her dad’s copy, along with several other DVDs. The package had arrived this morning, complete with a note.

The notepaper was lilac, with a fancy border, and she’d doodled a few Daleks at the bottom, which made me smile. When I turned the note over I found a couple of crumbs stuck to the back. Maybe they were from one of the cakes she liked baking. Though we chatted almost every day, somehow the note brought Ros to life in a way the computer screen couldn’t.

I was halfway through the second episode when there was a knock on my door.

‘Jonathan?’

I quickly paused the DVD and minimized the player. Mum came in, a cup of tea in her hand.

‘Thought you might like a drink,’ she said, putting it on my desk.

‘Thanks.’ I waited for Mum to go, but instead she moved round my room, flicking dust off the shelves.

‘Have you and Freya got plans for the weekend?’

I made a non-committal noise. ‘Probably go round the conservatoire. Meet her new mates.’

‘Good.’ Mum had a concerned expression on her face that instantly annoyed me. ‘You’ve spent too much time on your own recently.’

‘Yeah, well, there’s no one at college I particularly fancy speaking to.’

‘What about Lucy? She seems nice. Always says hello when we drop you off at the bus stop.’

I groaned, raising my eyes to the ceiling.

Mum frowned. ‘I’m serious. You’ve been at college weeks now. I would’ve thought you’d have made friends, or at least kept up with your old ones.’

‘I told you before, Mum, most of the people I hung out with were Freya’s friends. Yeah, they were OK, but now she’s not here, we don’t seem to have much in common.’

‘Jonathan –’ Mum’s low tone of voice hinted that her patience was running thin – ‘you’re not even trying, are you?’

‘I am! You just assume I’m not because you’ve got this thing about me being socially retarded. God’s sake, Mum, you seem to think making friends and fitting in is easy. Here’s some news: it isn’t!’

‘Please don’t get worked up. I didn’t come in to upset you.’

‘Well, you are! And you know what? This is your fault!’

Mum stared at me. ‘What on earth do you mean?’

‘You know exactly what I mean.’ I knew I was getting into dangerous territory, but I couldn’t stop myself. ‘You’re the one who made me go to that college, do four subjects I don’t care about, refused to listen when I told you it wasn’t what I wanted.’

‘Jonathan, we discussed why we didn’t want you to go to music school at the time.’

‘We never discussed anything; you just told me I couldn’t! You wouldn’t even let me do music A level – so now I’m stuck taking further maths instead, despite it being totally redundant.’

‘You don’t seem to realize how special you are, or what a bright future you have. You got full marks in physics and maths! That doesn’t happen to many kids. To throw that away because . . . just because you’ve had fun doing your music act with Freya—’

‘Did you hear us play, Mum? We were great – more than great! Everyone said so. That doesn’t happen to
many kids,
either!’

‘Of course you were good, I know that. But a musical career, Jonathan – you can do better. With the A levels you’re taking you’d be able to go into medicine . . . engineering . . .’

If I felt angry before, now I was furious. ‘Who are you to tell me I can do better? All I was asking was to do one A level I wanted, Mum, one crappy A level out of four, but no, I couldn’t even have that. How can I make you understand – music isn’t some passing phase. It’s my life, and you’ve no right to take that away from me.’

‘You still have your private music lessons—’

‘
Freya
’s parents let her go to the conservatoire –
they
respect her wishes. What if she gets so much better than me that I can’t keep up? What if she finds someone else in London while I’m not there?’

‘What’s going on?’ Dad appeared in the doorway.

‘A levels again.’ Mum sighed. ‘Jonathan seems to think we’ve ruined his life—’

‘Well, you have!’ I yelled. ‘I’m never enough for you, am I? I always have to be more – always have to be pushed to be better than everyone else – you just can’t accept me as I am. Well, swallow this – I’m miserable, I hate college, I hate everyone there and right now I hate being me. So thanks, Mum, thanks, Dad – I hope you’re happy now.’

‘That’s not fair . . .’

‘I knew you’d argue – you never listen to me. Well, know what? I don’t want to listen to you, so you can get out of my room and leave me in peace!’

Mum opened her mouth, then closed it. She looked at Dad, who shrugged.

‘All right,’ she said in a tight voice. ‘If you want to talk about this calmly, we’re downstairs.’

I turned my back on them, and after a moment heard the door close. Once I was sure they were out of hearing distance I took out my anger on the furniture, slamming fists and feet into my table, the bed and against the wall. I only stopped when my chair dipped to one side, one leg snapped. Oh, crap! I thought, kneeling down to check the damage. It worried me when I flipped like this – I didn’t like to think of myself as aggressive, but the chair wasn’t the first thing I’d broken.

I didn’t feel like watching
Doctor Who
any more. I flopped on my bed, staring at my CDs and my guitar and wondering how on earth Mum and Dad’s A-level reasoning could ever have made any sense to me. I couldn’t wait to get out of the house and see Freya and Ros. I felt sure they’d understand.

Thinking of Ros reminded me I’d promised to be on call for her. I picked up my phone. A new text awaited me.

got problem, abby doesnt want 2 leave.

Rosalind

9.40 p.m.

After Abby had called home we went downstairs. The room stank of weed and a black-and-white comedy show was blaring from the TV. The only person watching it seemed to be Hugh, who was eating jam straight from the jar. Gabe and Claudia were stretched out on one of the couches snogging, and Brian was leaning against the wall with a fresh beer.

‘Going home?’ he asked.

‘No,’ Abby said after a pause.

‘Great; I was hoping you’d stay.’ Brian settled on Hugh’s couch, patting the seat next to him. Abby stared at it, then glanced at Claudia. Very slowly she went over and sat down. I moved to the window, wishing I’d never been stupid enough to come here. For a moment I was tempted to head out and chance the journey, but I didn’t know this part of London and I was a little afraid of walking through the dark streets on my own. Hadn’t Jonathan said that a girl from Freya’s area had been snatched off the street and killed?

Minutes dribbled by. I dragged my beanbag to the window and turned my back on the room, making it very clear I wasn’t interested in what everyone else was doing. Dog appeared, head in a takeaway carton that he had pushed round the room. Realizing he was trying to lick it out, I held it still. By the time Dog was finished, orange sauce was speckled all over his muzzle.