When Rose reaches over me to rest her hand on Tom’s thigh in the taxi, I begin to comprehend how complicated this could become.
Tom looks at me in alarm. He doesn’t understand that Rose is trying to hide my seatbelt. If the taxi driver glanced back, it would look like my seatbelt was hanging in mid-air. Rose is super cautious about stuff like that.
I try not to show Tom that it bothers me. He is pretending to be Rose’s boyfriend tonight and it has to look real. I insisted on this in order to fend off other girls. With a horrible sense of dread I wonder how far this charade will need to be pushed.
I dressed Rose because she is incapable of anything beyond jeans and a sweater. I put her in a short skirt and long leather boots, pulled her red hair up, gave her huge silver hooped earrings and deep brown lipstick.
I’m wearing pink gauzy tulle. My hair is messed into a bird’s nest and I’ve got thick black kohl around my eyes. Make-up is tough when you can’t see yourself but I like experimenting with it, even if I can’t see the results. Tom said I look like a ballerina on crack, which I choose to take as a compliment.
The support band is finishing up as we get to our seats. I follow Tom along our row, picking my way through the minefield of feet. Tom flips down his seat and sits, and I climb onto his lap. Dawn got us seats at the end of the row, butted up against a wall as I requested. Nobody is going to bump into me here. Rose sits beside Tom, her despondent sigh audible above the sound checks.
‘All good?’ Tom asks her.
She smiles and nods. It’s about twenty per cent genuine. God, she’s such a strop.
The lights go down and we settle in for the wait. You can feel the crackle of anticipation running through the crowd. It’s such a raw human moment I feel excited even though I’m ambivalent about the band. Tom squeezes me, grinning idiotically.
‘Thank you,’ he whispers into my ear.
Then he swings to Rose. ‘Thank you,’ he says again, as the first chord is struck. The lights hit us, and Rose is illuminated. She sees the thrill in Tom’s eyes and her replying smile is genuine. Finally.
And so it begins; a shrill keyboard pierces the stadium air, a bass guitar picks up the beat. Pike stalks in after a good two minutes, glaring at the crowd. He wears a crazy old suit with a ruffled shirt like it’s his wedding day. He doesn’t sing for another two minutes, he just prowls around staring at us all. It’s unnerving.
Then he starts up. Tom was right, Pike is awesome. The guy is seriously screaming out his lungs. Sweat spins from his spiked hair as he spits the words into the mic. The sound is pounding through my ribcage, threatening to overwhelm my own heartbeat. Tom is head-banging beside me, thrashing about like a madman—his neck must be killing him. This song, ‘Slice My Rancid Peach’, is so damn long I lose track of time. Tom pushes me up to dance. People are dancing in the rows so it’s okay. I shimmy between him and the wall, making up crazy moves and making Tom laugh. Rose joins us and Tom takes her hand, spinning her around and around on the spot. She’s laughing now too.
Song after song we dance, hailing Pike and SkarNutter as they bring us higher and higher. It’s such a talent being able to do that to people. It must feel amazing to have that impact. The three of us are screaming along to the lyrics, Get your pretty face out of my face, or suck my, suck my bones!
I laugh and laugh and I feel like my cynical skin is being shed and tonight I’m just a normal girl without a care in the world. Tom pulls me in and kisses me, one of those long, steamy ones. It’s poison hot and I feel like I’m on fire.
‘Tom!’ Rose flails her arms around. ‘You look like a freak!’
‘So does everyone in this crowd,’ he replies.
‘Maybe. But they’re not being filmed.’
Tom and I turn around and sure enough a few guys have their phones trained on him. Tom swears and sits down, blushing like crazy. ‘Crap,’ he mutters as I snuggle into his lap. ‘You could only see the back of my head, right?’
The song ends and gentle piano chords start up. Tom is singing, out of tune, into my ear.
You might be hotter than Barbie, baby,
but it’ll never be forever, darlin’ honey bee girl.
Involuntarily my gut twists and I feel the darkness. It’s just a song, I tell myself. It’s just a song. The drums kick in and the thrashing guitar starts up again. I open my eyes to see Pike leaping across the stage. His legs look so skinny they could snap.
‘You okay?’ Tom calls over the reverb. ‘What is it?’
I shake my head.
‘What is it?’ he asks again.
I don’t want to speak. I know I’m being crazy. But I can’t move past it. The darkness is crushing me. I need him to help me get through my insecurities. But what can I do? Admit that I can’t understand why he likes me? It’s implausible. He is so kind and adorable and me—I’m nothing.
‘Olive?’ he tries again.
My voice is raspy. ‘The words—they’re true.’
‘The words? What words?’
I nod toward the stage. ‘His.’
Tom looks confused, probably racking his brain for all the damn lyrics Pike has been spurting out all evening. I feel sorry for him but I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to make the darkness in my head go away. I’m angry with myself. This night was supposed to be fun. I’m supposed to be convincing him I’m worth all the problems that come with me—but here I am causing more. Stupid, Olive. Stupid, stupid, Olive.
Tom is getting frustrated. ‘Jesus Olive—it could be anything, you’ll have to be a bit clearer.’
I can’t do anything but shake my head.
It’s impossible to enjoy the concert now. Tom is sitting all stiff and agitated, his hands clawing the arm rests and I’m trying to figure out a way to flee, but I’m trapped in this aisle of dancing fools.
‘Everything okay?’ Rose yells at Tom.
‘I said the wrong thing apparently.’ He rolls his eyes at her and I’m blinking back my tears.
Rose laughs. ‘Forget it.’ She stands with the crowd to demand an encore. ‘Nu-tter! Nu-tter! Nu-tter!’
Any other time I’d be laughing at her calling out like she is, but not now. Not when she’s just disregarded that I might be hurting.
Rose will never understand how awful it is to be me. Yes, I make her life suck—I admit it. But the pain of being nobody in this world is deplorable. I don’t exist to 99.999999999999% of the population of the planet. And I never will. I’ll never make a difference. I’ll never be anyone of any consequence because I don’t exist to anyone. What’s worse is the constant pain that I cause to the 0.000000000001% of people who do know that I exist. Try and live with that. I dare you.
Then Tom lifts my miserable chin so we’re nose to nose. His eyes are so beautiful I feel like I’m being touched by the light of a thousand stars. Why do I do this to him?
‘Olive,’ he whispers. ‘I don’t know what words you’re talking about, but I do know a line of theirs which is true.’ He sweeps his cheek along mine so his lips are at my earlobe. ‘Doobi-doobi-doo, I want nobody but you.’ Then he ducks his head because it was kind of lame. And as easy as that, the darkness melts away.
I take his face in my hands. ‘You’re freaking hot for a dork,’ I say and then we kiss.
‘Tom!’ Rose says above the crowd. ‘You’re doing it again!’
We pull apart. The lights are coming on. Tom is blushing. ‘Sorry.’
‘Forget about it.’ She grins at him. ‘Do you want to meet Pike?’