Robyn stared into the dark bay, searching for Bella.
Inky and still, the sea gave up none of its secrets.
Robyn was reminded of how she’d felt as a teenager, always the one needing to be responsible for Bella – turning down the extra drink so one of them was sober enough to get them home safely, or keeping enough money aside to pay for a taxi so that Bella didn’t weave home at three in the morning, alone in a shimmering dress.
But not tonight.
She was done keeping an eye out for Bella Rossi.
Behind her, the music drummed on, the voices of the others rising and falling. Someone threw another branch on the fire, fresh sparks swirling into the night.
Another beer, Robyn decided. That’s what she’d do. Drink, dance, enjoy herself. She weaved barefoot along the shoreline, feet sinking into the bed of tiny pebbles. A burst of laughter erupted near the fire.
Ahead, something dark was puddled on the shore. She reached down and touched the fabric: Bella’s dress.
Robyn’s gaze swung to the sea. There was no breeze and the water looked still, unruffled. Surely she should hear splashing, the light rippling of Bella swimming?
Something didn’t feel right. Heart quickening, she edged forward until her feet were in the shallows. Bella had been drinking hard all afternoon. She wasn’t a strong swimmer. No, Robyn didn’t like this. She needed to let the others know she was missing. She turned—
‘Boo!’
Robyn screamed.
Bella was in front of her, naked and grinning.
‘Christ!’ Robyn said, a hand pressed to her chest. ‘I thought you were still in the sea!’
‘None of those other fuckers noticed. God knows how I made it back.’ Wet hair hung down her back, her body beautiful in the moonlight.
‘You shouldn’t have gone out there!’
Bella slipped an arm around Robyn’s waist. ‘My complicated little Robyn. Still looking out for me, aren’t you?’
‘You’re wet,’ she said, shrugging her off, annoyed. ‘Here,’ she said, shoving Bella’s dress at her.
She pulled it on obediently, like a child. ‘We’ve not been close for a while, have we?’
Robyn didn’t want a conversation like this. Not tonight.
‘We never talk about it,’ Bella persisted.
‘About what?’
‘What happened that night.’ Bella reached out, placing her damp fingers at the base of Robyn’s skull where a scar weaved through her hairline. ‘You remember.’
She did.
The crack of her head against the side of the pool.
Darkness.
Followed by Bella looming over her, calling her name, face washed white with fear.
Bella had been the one to take her to A&E, apologising over and over as she drove, a dream catcher swaying from the rear-view mirror.
They waited for two hours to be seen, Robyn shivering in a damp towel, her skin smelling faintly of chlorine. The doctor who finally saw her glued the gash in her head and handed her a leaflet about concussion. ‘Have you got someone to stay with you?’
‘Me,’ Bella had said. ‘I will.’
So they’d returned to Robyn’s house, her parents already asleep. They ate Marmite on toast in the kitchen and sipped on glasses of squash, and Robyn had felt like she was both a child and an adult in the same skin.
Later they had crept upstairs to Robyn’s room. Usually, she’d set up the futon for friends, but there was no spare bedding and she didn’t want to wake her parents. ‘All right sharing?’ she asked, pointing to her single bed.
‘Course.’
Bella borrowed one of Robyn’s T-shirts, sitting on the end of her bed, removing her make-up with a face-wipe, revealing glittering, fresh eyes.
‘Sorry you’re missing the party,’ Robyn said as they climbed into her bed, the mattress bouncing.
Bella shrugged. ‘We’ve just left sixth form. The next decade is for getting wasted and partying.’ She grinned, her smile smelling of toothpaste.
Robyn stretched across and turned out the light. The room fell dark, quiet. Tentatively, she lay back, feeling a hot throbbing in her skull.
‘How’s the head?’ Bella whispered.
Robyn adjusted the pillow, rolling onto her side. ‘Better if I lie like this.’
She was facing Bella. She opened her eyes and could see her silhouette inches from her face. Her eyes were open too.
Bella’s voice was quieter when she spoke again. ‘I’m really sorry. I should have been holding onto you.’ She reached out, her hand finding Robyn’s, fingers interlacing beneath the duvet.
Robyn could feel the heat of Bella’s hand, the pressure of their skin touching. The atmosphere became charged. She wasn’t sure if it was just her who felt it or Bella, too. She was aware of a surprising, pulsing heat in her groin. She was dizzy, almost breathless.
Bella’s thumb gently stroked the back of her hand. Somehow their faces seemed closer. She could feel Bella’s minty breath against her cheek. Then she felt the brush of her lips – tentative, exploratory at first – and then fuller, melting against her own.
Bella’s lips were exquisitely soft and full. Robyn had kissed lots of boys. That was not what kisses were supposed to be like. They were harder, urgent. Bella’s mouth was cushiony and sweet; she wanted to sink into it.
Beneath the duvet, Robyn felt her hand being drawn down the length of Bella’s body, trailing over the soft skin of her stomach, being guided lower still.
She blinked, trying to free the memory, but the sparks of it burned, red-hot.
‘We both remember,’ Bella said.