Nothing will top that kiss, but there is more news of note. News from the day after the ball. And the news is this: Cleo and I are speaking again.
It’s strange. I spent so long wishing this would happen. Finally I started to accept it might not, and I was almost at peace with that, because I’d met Ang, Lucy and Gemma, and the steampunk boys, and they were so welcoming, so understanding. At the ball I found myself laughing and saying things around them that I’d never say in front of Chels or Cleo. I found myself being, well, me, and I liked it. I felt free and wild and comfortable in my skin. I hadn’t felt that way around Cleo and Chelsea-Grace for a very long time.
I was happy, Ms Hiller, with my new friends. There was still a hole in my heart for 3CD, but it was a smaller hole. I was healing.
And then my phone rang.
It rang because of secrets badly kept, Ms Hiller. Because Tansy Vaskos’s dad went home and told Mrs Vaskos what had happened, and Tansy Vaskos overheard and took Cleo aside after dancing on Sunday to ask if she knew what had happened, and if I was all right. Of course Cleo hadn’t known what had happened, and she didn’t know if I was all right, because we weren’t talking.
So on Sunday night, just as I was sitting down with Soph to watch the new BBC costume drama we’ve both fallen in love with, I heard my phone ring. I leapt up and ran to my handbag, hoping, I confess, that it was Fred Paul. Even though Fred Paul had already called me that day. And messaged three times. But it was not Fred Paul. It was Cleo.
‘Hey,’ she said. ‘Are you busy? Can you talk?’
‘No, I’m not busy.’ I looked over at Soph apologetically.
Soph looked annoyed for a moment, and then sighed. ‘I’ll fill you in. But just so you know, I think the butler did it.’
‘Hang on, I’ll go upstairs,’ I said to Cleo.
As I walked past Fergus’s room, a crack of light filled me with gladness – he’s started leaving his door open, Ms Hiller. A little bit.
‘So. Hello,’ I said, as I flopped onto my bed. ‘Um, what’s up?’
‘What’s up with me?’ Cleo cried. ‘What’s up with you, more like!’
My first thought was that she must somehow have heard about me and Fred. I hated that I felt slightly sick to my stomach at the thought – sure, she wouldn’t approve, but why did I even care?
‘You can tell me about it,’ Cleo said softly. ‘I want you to talk to me about it. I’m sorry we weren’t speaking when it happened. I’m sorry you couldn’t call me Friday night.’
Friday night?
But I kissed Fred Paul Saturday. On Friday I was . . . Oh.
‘Tansy told me,’ Cleo went on. ‘After dancing. I hope you don’t mind. She overheard her mum and dad talking about it.’
‘You’re talking about Sam?’ I asked.
‘Did he really kidnap you? And assault you? Because that’s what Tansy said . . .’
‘Not exactly. But he took me someplace secluded without my consent. And then he kissed me. And I didn’t want him to. So at that point, I bit him.’
‘Why were you in the car with him in the first place?’ Cleo asked.
‘I missed my bus,’ I said, feeling defensive. ‘All the buses, actually. He offered to give me a lift home and I . . . I thought it would be all right. But then he said he wasn’t going to take me home—’ I felt tears pool in my eyes.
‘You want me to come over?’ asked Cleo.
‘No, it’s fine,’ I said quickly.
I didn’t feel like seeing Cleo, Ms Hiller. Before, I would have said ‘yes’ in a heartbeat – I wouldn’t have been able to think of anything better than a visit from my best friend, to cheer me up. But something told me that unlike Ang, Lucy and Gemma, Cleo wouldn’t be dreaming up crazy, outrageous revenge against Sam.
I was happy that she’d called. But I didn’t want to be judged. I didn’t want someone asking me, ‘Why were you in the car?’ Making me feel as if it was my fault.
‘I . . . I promised Soph I’d spend time with her,’ I said.
‘Of course!’ Cleo said. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, though, right? I mean, you’ll come and sit with us? With me and Chels? I’ll call her now and tell her what happened. Don’t worry, she won’t be mad at you. She and Kerrard are together. Which is crazy. I never thought she’d be into someone like Kerrard. He’s a bit feral. But he’s cute, I guess, in a skater-boy sort of way. And I think she got sick of Sam always blowing her off, and talking about you. Looks like he really did have a thing for you the whole time. Not that that makes it okay.’
‘No, it doesn’t,’ I agreed. And why would Chelsea-Grace be mad at me? I added silently. I didn’t do anything wrong.
‘I know, Clem. I’ll call her. I’ll explain everything. We really have missed you. I’ll make sure Sam doesn’t come anywhere near us anymore, too. I’ll find a way. And, listen, Brent’s still single. And he’s a nice guy, Clemmie. I’ll talk to him, too. He’ll be so happy. It’ll all work out. Just you see.’
‘I don’t—’ I began, but Cleo wasn’t listening.
‘Don’t worry, Clemmie. It’ll all be okay. Tomorrow, everything can go back to normal.’
The thing is, Ms Hiller, I’m not at all sure that’s good news.