Pretty Twisted (15 page)

Probably not.

then things r ok. itll b bak 2 normal when shes home @ xmas.

Ros could be right – I knew I read too much into Freya’s behaviour. It had been so easy to know what she was thinking when I saw her every day. She’d never been shy about showing how much she liked me either. One time at school, when I’d been waiting for her to show up at lunch, a couple of guys who fancied her had started to take the piss out of me. When Freya arrived she didn’t waste time with words; she grabbed my face and snogged me until the guys slunk away. ‘Best thing I could think of to shut them up,’ she’d explained. That was one of my favourite memories of Freya, but today it made me feel horribly sad. Before we’d started going out, I’d been a much simpler person. While I didn’t want to go back, life had been a lot easier when I only thought about how I could modify the inside of the computer to make it faster and more powerful, or which DVDs and video games I should spend my monthly allowance on. Sometimes I felt I was two people who hadn’t even met.

College was still crap. The novelty of being in a new place had worn off and, like many students, I was bored. The Student Union tried to cheer us up by organizing a disco and placing tickets and a free-drink voucher in everyone’s pigeonhole – everyone’s except mine, that was. Though I knew the person handing out the tickets had probably just made an error, I couldn’t help feeling it had been done deliberately. And what was the point of going to some stupid dance where no one would talk to me?

Sick of everything, I called Freya on Saturday afternoon, hoping for a long conversation.

She didn’t pick up.

Like always, I thought angrily. It shouldn’t be this way. I should be able to speak to my girlfriend whenever I needed to. In the old days I’d have gone round her house if I couldn’t get through on the phone. Mind you – what was stopping me now?

Mum and Dad grumbled when I begged for a lift to the station.

‘It would be good to have some notice when you’re going to London for the weekend,’ Mum said. ‘Honestly, Jonathan! Have a thought for us – and your bank balance, for that matter. Train tickets aren’t exactly cheap.’

‘Sorry. Forgot.’ I looked as sheepish as I could. Somehow, I thought it would be better if they didn’t know this was a spur-of-the-moment thing.

Thanks to delays and me getting on the wrong underground train, it was nine by the time I got to Richmond. The door to Auntie Phil’s house was ajar.

‘Freya?’ I called.

Emma came out of the sitting room, on her feet and looking a lot brighter than she had at the conservatoire. ‘Freya!’ she shouted. ‘Your boyfriend’s here.’

Freya appeared at the top of the stairs, hair in disarray and an eyeliner stick in her hand. ‘What – Jonathan?’

I gave her a wave. ‘Surprise visit.’

Freya came down the stairs.

I laughed. ‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’

‘I’m just . . . well, surprised. You’re not usually spontaneous.’ Her mouth quivered, then she pushed it into a bright smile.

‘Is this a bad time?’

‘Course not. Why don’t you say hello to my friends? My aunt’s on holiday, so everyone’s come over.’

Freya disappeared into the kitchen before I could ask to talk to her alone. A gang of girls I didn’t recognize were mucking about with a wok, all dressed for a night out. There were also a couple of guys. One smacked Freya on the backside as she entered.

‘No bunny-girl costume tonight? I’m disappointed.’

Freya giggled. ‘Shh. Adam, this is my boyfriend.’

Adam gave me a glance. ‘Oh! Hardly one of those muscle-bound film stars you’ve got pinned on your wall, is he?’

She poked him in the ribs. ‘Don’t be mean.’

‘It’s OK,’ I said. ‘No offence taken.’ I looked at Freya. ‘Can I talk to you – in private?’

Freya hesitated.

‘Just ten minutes. It’s really important.’

‘Oh, OK.’

I followed her out of the kitchen, up the stairs and into her room. It smelt of perfume; the macho film stars smirked down at me from the walls. As Freya closed the door I caught sight of her mobile, on the desk by her make-up. It was on.

‘You knew I was trying to call you,’ I said. ‘Why didn’t you pick up?’

‘I was busy.’

‘I wanted to speak to you.’

‘Told you, I was busy.’

‘Couldn’t you have sent me a text? I really needed to talk. I said so when I left voicemail.’

‘Yeah, well, I don’t have any credit.’

‘There’s a landline!’

‘I know, but Auntie Phil doesn’t like me using it for long conversations!’

I went to the desk and picked up the phone.

‘Give me that,’ said Freya, but I had already dialled the service number.

‘Your credit is ten pounds and forty-one pence,’ I quoted, laying it back down.

‘Stop staring at me, Jonny. It’s scary.’

‘Since you came here, I’ve been the one putting the effort into making us work,’ I said. ‘You never reply to my texts or emails now, and there are always excuses for why we can’t chat long. It never occurred to me that you were lying.’

‘Look, Jonathan . . .’

‘You don’t care about me any more, do you?’

‘Of course I do! You’re a friend, but—’

‘You don’t love me. I love you.’

Freya fingered a lock of her hair. ‘Don’t say that. Love’s a very big word.’

I shook my head. ‘Please just be honest.’

She placed her hands on my shoulders. ‘Jonny, I’m so sorry . . . but I think it’s time we called it a day.’

The last year zipped through my mind. Freya and me at the opticians, choosing my new glasses. Freya and me picking up exam results, celebrating afterwards. Freya and me at the cinema, bowling, a concert, round each other’s houses.

‘What did I do wrong?’ I asked. ‘Is there someone else?’

‘You’re a lovely guy.’ She patted my shoulders. ‘I want to stay friends. But the truth is, since I came here – I’ve been feeling that you’re . . . well . . . a bit needy – and I don’t think I can give you what you want any more.’

My mouth opened – and stayed open. No words would come out.

‘I know you wanted to be the perfect boyfriend. Calling all the time, planning these amazing romantic dinners – that was nice, really, and maybe you’ll find a girlfriend who’ll appreciate all that, but – well, maybe I’ve changed. London’s opened my eyes.’

‘Then I’ll change too – just tell me what to do.’

‘It’s not as easy as that. Look at us, Jonny. Without music, do we really have much in common?’

I took her hands and squeezed them. ‘Music’s a huge thing. It’s what we both care about most, right? Little differences shouldn’t matter, not if we love each other.’

‘Let go. You’re hurting.’

I released my hold, and she stepped back, the colour rising in her cheeks.

‘You’ve put so much pressure on me,’ she said. ‘If you hadn’t been phoning every day, if you’d given me even a bit of space! You were like a little kid. Want, want, want, all the time.’

‘You should have said something. You’ve had me on your terms for weeks, and it’s cruel. College was meant to be a new start, but since the first day I’ve just been hung up on you. So, did you plan to dump me before you left – or has this come on suddenly?’

‘I never wanted to
dump
you. The last few weeks, I just hoped things would break off naturally with us at different places, meeting new people, and then we could stay friends, without all this awkwardness. But you never picked up on any of my hints.’

‘Not returning my calls was deliberate?’

‘I was hoping you’d get the message!’

‘Charming!’

‘I’m sorry! I just wanted to avoid telling you like this.’

I looked into her eyes. ‘Did you ever love me? Were you lying when you said you did?
I
wouldn’t say something like that unless I meant it. If you never liked me, why did you go out with me in the first place?’

‘I did like you! You were shy and funny and completely different to my last boyfriend and I enjoyed giving you confidence—’

‘So we were all about
you.
You feeling good for turning the ugly duckling into a swan.’ Freya bit her lower lip, and I knew I was right. ‘Christ, why didn’t I realize? I really am thick. All you care about is yourself!’

‘That’s unfair! I never faked anything. I’ve put a lot into this relationship—’

‘Only when it suited you.’

‘My God, you have to analyse everything, don’t you? Stop pushing this! I’m starting to say things I’ll regret. Why are you making this so difficult?’

‘Because it is!’

‘I won’t have you making me feel bad,’ Freya snapped. ‘I let this drag on for too long, and I was wrong not to tell you straight. Apart from that, I have nothing to apologize for.’

‘Aren’t you going to apologize for breaking my heart?’

‘Oh, spare me the melodrama! For all you go on about me being selfish, it’s clear all you care about is how much you’re hurting. If you think about it, you’ll realize your heart isn’t broken at all.’

‘That’s crap!’

‘Why did you ask me out in the first place?’

I paused. ‘What do you mean? You know why.’

‘Because you like being seen with me.’

‘Rubbish! I like you for you—’

‘You like me for the idea of me.’

I shook my head. ‘Fine, if that’s what you want to think. I know what I feel about you, Freya. This relationship means the world to me.’

‘Relationship? We had a good time and made some great music, but it wasn’t this amazing passionate romance – really it wasn’t.’

‘Well, that’s how I saw it!’

‘Broken record, Jonathan!’ Freya yelled, slapping her hands over her ears. ‘All I want is to
live
a little! What you need to understand is that a relationship should be
fun
. It isn’t a matter of life and death.’

I didn’t care how loudly I was shouting now. ‘Well, maybe it is, actually, because right now I might just go and kill myself!’

Freya froze, then drew herself up straight. ‘You wouldn’t have the guts.’

‘Try me. I’ll jump under a train. It’ll be all your fault.’

‘You know what you are, Jonathan? Really immature.’ Freya thrust an arm towards the door. ‘I don’t have to listen to this crap. I want you to leave, now. Go on, get out!’

‘You know what you are, Freya? A heartless, selfish, two-faced bitch.’

‘Get out!’

I flung the door open. Freya’s eavesdropping friends had to skip back quickly. As I stalked out, I heard Freya scream, ‘Everyone leave me alone!’ and the slam of her door made the overhead light in the hallway rattle.

Exactly what happened next was a bit of a blur. Anger consumed me and I lost track of time – I remember running, but not much else. It felt like I was burning up with rage: rage at Freya for all she’d said and at myself for not being clearer about how I felt. When I finally cooled down I found that I was by the river, quite near to Auntie Phil’s. I stopped under a bridge and, back to the wall, slid down into a sitting position.

Freya had actually broken up with me and I didn’t understand why. It wasn’t for a good reason – like some guy she liked better waltzing on to the scene. It felt like we’d been part of a play, acting out a script that had gone terribly wrong.

I took out my phone.
My life is crap
, I texted Ros.
Might as well not bother any more.

My body was starting to feel numb, so I moved on. By the time I’d got on the underground, my anger at Freya had flipped to horror. What on earth would I do without her? She was part of me. I had the photo of us from the school cabaret on my wall. Whenever I was feeling bad it cheered me up, because it proved I wasn’t a loser – out of all the guys in the school, she’d chosen me. Our names sounded good together, we looked good together, we
were
good together. Even my parents said so – oh, God, Mum and Dad! They’d be devastated – they liked Freya so much.

I got off the train at Earl’s Court – I could change on to the dark blue line here. That would take me to Leicester Square, the heart of London, where there’d be people, and places open 24/7. I’d spend the night wandering around. My parents wouldn’t know – they thought I was with Freya. I hurt far too much to face them right now.

Rosalind

10.30 p.m.

My life is crap. Might as well not bother any more.

What are you supposed to do when you get a text like that?

There was only one thing I could think of that would have made Jonathan say this. Something had to have happened with Freya – maybe even a break-up! I felt a shiver of excitement, though I knew it was terrible of me.

wots up?
I texted back.