27

I’m not quite sure who’s to blame (although the smart money is on Mikey and his stupidly loud voice), but by the end of PE our entire class seems to know about my ‘affair’ with my forty-year-old next-door neighbour.

‘My cousin is going out with a twenty-five-year-old, and I thought that was old!’ Tamsin says as we troop back to the changing rooms at the end of the lesson.

‘Does he look forty?’ Kat chimes in.

‘Do your mum and dad know?’ Stacey adds.

‘No,’ I say, trying and failing to disguise the panic in my voice. ‘And they really can’t, OK? So please just stop going on about it.’

Despite my classmates’ promises not to breathe a word to anyone (whatever), I still can’t get rid of the sicky feeling in my stomach. I keep waiting for it to go away, but it shows no signs of leaving me alone. It’s there as I get changed back into my clothes, my classmates not even bothering to hide their excited whispers. It’s there as I walk home, fielding yet more questions, inventing more and more lies. It’s there as I eat dinner, and help Mum put sugared almonds in little gauzy bags for the wedding favours, and sit on my laptop scouring social media for evidence of my presence at the park yesterday. And even though I don’t find a thing, and so according to the internet at least I’m in the clear, the sicky feeling remains. It’s there as I lie in the bath, and brush my teeth and toss and turn in bed, unable to fall asleep. And the next morning it’s there the moment I wake up, a big fat tangled knot deep in my belly.

 

At Thursday-afternoon registration, our teacher, Mr Costa, hands out our school reports. We usually rip them open immediately (apart from Kimmie, whose parents always insist she brings it home in its sealed envelope), but today I shove mine straight to the bottom of my bag without looking at it.

I forget about it until later that evening when I’m searching through my bag for a rogue cigarette.

‘Is that your report?’ Audrey asks from over the other side of the room.

I shrug and push it under my mattress.

‘Aren’t you going to read it?’ she asks.

‘What’s the point? It’s only going to be shit.’

‘It might not be,’ she says. ‘It might be really good.’

‘Oh, come on, Auds. Get real.’ It’s no secret I’m making a right mess of my A levels. I was stupid to think I was up to them in the first place. My GCSEs were clearly a fluke, a red herring.

‘Won’t Mum and Dad want to see it though?’

‘I doubt they’ll even remember it’s due.’

‘I bet it’s not as bad as you think.’

I sigh. ‘Thanks, Audrey, but it’s probably worse.’

 

On the last day of term, for probably the first time ever, I’m glad to have an excuse not to go to the pub with the others.

‘I’ve got to get home and pack,’ I explain at the school gates.

The venue for Mum and Dad’s wedding is a big hotel on the edge of town and it’s our base for the next two nights.

‘Can’t you just come for one?’ Mikey asks.

‘Yeah,’ Kimmie says. ‘You don’t have to stay long.’

Even though the guilt has faded a bit, I’m still struggling to look Kimmie in the eye properly, directing most of my conversation at her eyebrows instead.

‘Sorry, I can’t,’ I say, pretending to check my phone. ‘My mum will go mad if I’m not home on time.’

‘Er, since when does Queen Mia care about keeping people waiting?’ Stella points out.

‘Oh, shut up, Stella. It’s my mum and dad’s wedding. Do you really think I’m such a cow that I’d mess it up for them?’

Stella frowns. ‘God, it was supposed to be a joke,’ she says.

I smack myself on my forehead with my right palm. ‘Stupid me,’ I say. ‘There I was assuming you were just being a bitch.’

I’m being a moody cow, I know I am, but somehow I can’t bring myself to apologize. I just need to have a break from the lies I’ve told, the chance to reset. For about the thousandth time, I regret letting them believe it was Paul who gave me the stupid love bite. Why didn’t I just make up a random boy? If I had, they’d have probably forgotten about it by now. I wish I had a time machine I could climb inside so I could put it all right. I try to decide when I would go back to. Getting ready for PE on Monday? The moment just before Aaron kissed me in the park? The moment just before I kissed Paul? Or further back still? When exactly did everything start to unravel?

‘What’s with you this week?’ Stella asks, putting her hands on her hips. ‘You’ve been in such a mood.’

‘Is it Paul?’ Mikey butts in. ‘Did something else happen?’

‘No,’ I say. ‘I told you, I haven’t seen him all week.’

‘But how? He lives next door, for God’s sake.’

‘Oh my God, just drop it, OK?’

‘But, Mia—’

‘I said, drop it.’

They exchange looks, ranging from concerned (Kimmie), to bitchy (Mikey) and exasperated (Stella).

I take a deep breath. ‘Look, I’m sorry if I’ve been in a bit of a shit mood this week,’ I say. ‘Things are just a bit stressful at home right now, you know, with the wedding and everything.’

This is a lie. Even though I’m not exactly looking forward to it, my bad mood has barely anything to do with the wedding. My explanation seems to do the trick though, both Stella and Mikey quickly apologizing for having a go at me.

‘I’ll see you guys tomorrow, OK?’ All three of them are invited.

The mood lifted, we hug goodbye. I’m still relieved though, when we can finally go our separate ways and I can breathe that little bit easier.

As I walk away, I try to shove everything that’s happened from my mind and focus on the weekend ahead. It’s going to be full-on and if I’m going to get through it, I need to be on form.