Non Pratt - Trouble

It looks good.

When I turn away from the machine I catch Aaron looking at me.

“What?” I’m sick of this. What is it with these guys tonight?

Aaron smiles — the nicest of his smiles, one where there’s nothing more than a secretive curve to his lips. “I like your outfit.”

Oh. Well. He’s forgiven, then.

I fall into step beside him to join the others and I smile at the ground.

Aaron cares what I look like.

For the first time in ever I’m looking forward to school today. Which is not like me. At. All.

It’s because I want to see my friends. Actual more-than-one-who-I-see-all-the-time friends. Plural. It’s not like I wasn’t friendly with Anj and Gideon before now, but I don’t know if I’d have said we were mates or anything. Not like with Katie.

The stupid thing is that if I’d never started hanging out with Katie, then I’d have probably been mates with Anj and Gideon instead. Anj is the only one here who went to my primary — she lived on the same road as me and we were regular trick-or-treat partners. On hot weekends Anj would come and play in my paddling pool — she still came over even once we moved in with Robert on the other side of town. The summer before we moved up to Kingsway, the summer after Lola was born, Anj and I spent most of our time running in and out of the sprinkler system on the back lawn. Once we ran out of breath, we’d go inside to get drinks, wearing T-shirts over our swimsuits in case Jay had his friends round — then act more mature if he did. None of them ever noticed.

My first day at Kingsway was terrifying. There are thousands of kids and the buildings are massive. I don’t think I’ve ever felt smaller — but at least Anj was there being small with me.

It wasn’t until halfway through the first term that I started hanging around Katie. She was really gobby and I’d been a bit scared of her, but we eventually bonded over a hatred of PE. Anj has always been sporty and she got picked first for everything, even by the boys. I was always one of the last to be chosen because I was so short and skinny; Katie because she’d decided it was better to give off CBA vibes than try something and fail. We’d end up sitting on the subs bench together and friendship followed from there.

One of the other reasons Katie was never picked was because she isn’t a team player and that attitude goes for everything, including friends. As we became mates she began edging Anj out. She’d invite me somewhere and never mention Anj. I’d sit next to Anj in a lesson and Katie would come right up to the desk and ask me to sit with her at lunch. When she invited me to her birthday party, I assumed that everyone in the class had been invited. They had — everyone except Anj. Stupidly, I’d felt special. When we started at Kingsway, out of the two of us, Anj was the one people talked to. I was just “Anj’s friend”. No one even knew my name. For someone to pick me instead felt good.

It didn’t take long before Katie was the only one coming to my house and the person Anj spent the most time with wasn’t me, but Gideon. It wasn’t a big deal when it happened — it wasn’t as if we’d started school with matching friendship bracelets — but I wish it had been. If Anj had ever asked me what I was doing, I might have actually thought about the choice I was making.

That summer I invited Katie round to our house on one of the hottest days of the year. I got my costume out and I started early in the sprinkler so that when Katie arrived I was already slick from the spray. She’d eyed me up and down when I answered the door.

“That’s what you wear in the garden?”

“Yeah. What’s wrong with it?” I’d looked down at the swimming costume I’d got to go on holiday with Dad at Easter. It was purple with a sporty white swash across my very flat tummy.

“Nothing.” Katie had shrugged and walked in, then she’d taken off her clothes to reveal a bikini so small that it barely hid her early developments in the boob department.

We’d gone outside and I’d stood like a useless purple lump as Katie pulled out a sun lounger and lay down on it, stretching herself out like a cat. Ten minutes later, Jay came and sat on the end of the lounger to talk to her. I sat on the grass and watched them.

The next day I begged Mum to take me shopping for a bikini.

It’s cold, it’s windy and tiny droplets of drizzle lash what little of my face is exposed to the elements. How I ended up being roped into going to the corner shop to buy Hannah an ice cream is beyond me. I’m even more bewildered that I’ve been tasked to bring back treats for Anj and Gideon as well.

The bell on the door is broken, which suits me fine when I see who’s browsing the magazines as I walk in the shop. Katie’s hair is plastered to her head and there’s a distinct shiver to her stance. Thankfully, she’s too distracted to notice me walk to the freezer. By the time I’ve collected everything, Katie’s moved on to arguing with the shopkeeper about serving her cigarettes. There’s a stash of gossip magazines and various diet drinks on the counter in front of her. I guess as bottom feeder of the WAG hierarchy it’s her job to brave the rain and fetch supplies. I could be accused of hypocrisy here, since Katie’s going to get more enjoyment out of those magazines than I will out of this Feast, Gideon’s banana milkshake or Anj’s disgusting prawn-cocktail crisps, but at the end of the day I’m aware of the difference between buying refreshments and buying friendship.

“Thanks for nothing,” Katie hisses at the shopkeeper, turning so violently that she’s propelled the metre it takes to bump into me. For a second her glance slides over me as if I’m nothing but an obstruction, then her eyes narrow.

I step past and pay for my haul, aware that Katie hasn’t moved. As I head for the door, she falls into step beside me.

“News flash, Emo Boy, it’s winter.” She snatches Hannah’s ice cream from my hands and flicks it against my shoulder hard enough for it to snap before handing it back as we reach the exit.

I jam my toe under the edge of the door.

“Buy another one,” I say, quietly.

“Fuck off!” Katie tries to yank the door open, but I lean my weight on it. “Get out the fucking way!”

I wait, impassive.

“Aaron!”

“So you do know my name.”

“Just move.”

“Don’t want to keep your friends waiting, do you?”

She shoots me a murderous glare. “As if you’re going to stand there all day.” But I can tell by the way she looks at me that she’s not sure I won’t. “What do you want?”

I look at her and wait some more until she storms off in a cloud of swear words, returning with a new ice cream.

“Thank you,” I say, holding the door open for her.

“I hope you choke on it.”

“Unlikely. It’s for Hannah.” Katie’s three paces ahead, but she still hears me and I see her half turn, her face relaxed enough for me to see something there — a sadness so profound that for a fleeting moment I think that maybe—

“Well, Hannah can fucking choke on it, then, can’t she?” She marches ahead of me, arms crossed against the wind, magazines tucked under her blazer. Katie knows she made a mistake, but she’ll die before she admits it. She traded everything she had for the chance to be Marcy’s lapdog. There’s no going back now.

Hannah fidgets during English. It’s distracting.

Could you maybe sit still for more than thirty seconds at a time? Some of us are trying to work here.

I turn my notebook towards her and tap the page.

Cd u mayb stop bein such a suck up? Some of us r tryin 2 bum here.

She adds a little smiley face with the tongue sticking out. I find it entertaining the way Hannah writes as if she’s texting.

What’s up?

Because something is. Emoticon aside, Hannah isn’t smiling.

Wot u doin @ wknd?

The question unnerves me. It’s Valentine’s Day on Sunday.

Seeing Neville on Sunday.

I make a mental note to switch my date with Neville, which should amuse him.

Come 4 family dinner on Sat? There’s a pause in her writing as Mrs English looks up from marking a stack of essays to check we’re all dutifully reading our texts. J up 4 wknd.

Jay’s home? This is interesting.

“Hi,” I say and hold out my hand.

“Hi.” Jason takes my hand and sizes me up as he shakes. “So you’re Hannah’s boyfriend.”

Hannah and I give him what must be identical stares. Whatever he’s been told, I’m sure no one’s told him we’re actually dating. That has never been the story.

“Sorry, I’m not sure what the appropriate title is…” he starts to say, but Hannah shoots him down.

“How about ‘friend’ — you’ve heard of those, right?”

Immediately I reassess the situation. Hannah’s been subdued this week, something I’d put down to hormones, which is the excuse she gives for absolutely everything. But I was wrong. Whatever this is, it has less to do with hormones and more to do with Jay. Whatever it is, I’m on Hannah’s side. As if I’d be anywhere else.

“Aaron!” Lola flies out of the front room and cannons into me for a hug.

Robert comes out of his office and claps his son on the shoulder. “So you two have met, then?”

“Just now, Dad. We exchanged maybe a sentence before Lolly came in and stole Aaron from me.” He playfully prods his little sister in the cheek, but she presses closer to me instead of him. It’s nice to be the favourite, but there’s something in the way Jay looks at me that tells me I’ll regret it.

Dinner is a Chinese takeaway that Hannah and Jay go to collect in his car. Paula and Robert are busy in the kitchen, leaving me and Lola to play Mario Kart in the front room. This suits me fine — although, being more of an RPG player, I endure a relentless drubbing from the nearly-six-year-old girl next to me. Lola doesn’t seem to mind that I’m a far from worthy opponent and when she hears her brother and sister come in, she pulls me into the kitchen and sits me next to her.

“And Mummy on the other side.” Lola pats the chair to her left.

“What about Jason, Lolly? You haven’t seen him in a while. I’m sure he’d like a chance to spend some time with you.” Only parents do this — presume it’s OK to speak for you even when it’s obviously inviting trouble.

Lola looks at Jason with wide eyes as he puts the bags on the table then she leans into me a little as she looks up at her mum and beckons her closer.

“I don’t want to sit next to Jay. He’s not been very nice to Hannah,” she whispers into her mother’s ear so quietly that I only just catch it and I’m sitting right next to her.

Hannah’s mum frowns and leans in to whisper back.

“I’m sure they made up when they went to get the takeaway.” She catches me looking and I turn away. “Please, poppet, ask to sit with Jay — he’s missed you.”

Lola glances at me and after I give the slightest of nods, she announces that she’s changed her mind. Disaster averted, we settle down and I watch as Jay tries to engage Lolly in conversation, then I watch Hannah watching him. It’s not as if I believed Paula before — about her stepson and her daughter making up — but it looks like they’ve been arguing some more. Hannah’s jaw is locked in attack mode and she’s snapping prawn crackers like a piranha. Jay on the other hand won’t look at her. At all. Not even when she asks him to pass her the soy sauce.

The conversation takes a dangerous turn at the unwrapping of the duck pancakes when Jay asks me whether I’d like to come and see what Warwick is like in case I fancy applying. He’s just being polite (or smug) but it draws attention to the fact that in two and a half years’ time I should be in a position to go to university.