8. Sixteen years old
Sixteen years old
Kath
On the Friday before sixth form starts, we have one last party at Ben’s house.
A sort of ‘goodbye to freedom’ and end-of-summer celebration night before A levels take over our lives.
His older brother bought us two six packs of beer and a bottle of wine, and everyone’s slowly getting louder as the evening progresses.
I’m perched on the sofa next to Claire, watching our classmates laughing and catching up.
The cream walls of the living room are lined with framed family photos, most of them featuring a tiny, bowl-cut Ben in various catastrophic outfits.
At the start of the night he’d pointed to them with a warning: “ Don’t even look at those.
If you look, you’re complicit.” Naturally, everyone has looked.
My phone buzzes in my pocket.
Sam: Be there in five minutes. I have another pack of beer.
“What’s that grin for?” Claire leans over my shoulder. Her blonde hair is perfectly styled in waves, and she’s wearing a form-fitting green dress.
“Sam texted, he’s just on his way.”
“Ooh, the golden boy. Did you see the pictures of him they put on the school website? They’re hilarious. Most are from when we were about thirteen. He looks nothing like he did back then, though I guess they can’t use the topless ones they had during the Olympics on a school website.”
“Yeah,” I agree absentmindedly, typing out a reply to Sam. I’ve been texting him since I left France three weeks ago. He was a bit quiet at the beginning, for unknown reasons, but things are back to normal now. He’s been on holiday with his parents, and only got back to London yesterday.
“I heard topless pictures.” Ben sidles over. “Who’s doing topless pictures? One of you two?”
“Have you learnt nothing from school?” I ask. “How many lectures have we had to attend on the perils of the online world and photographing ourselves? Obviously, it isn’t either of us.”
“Shame,” he says. “I wouldn’t say no to one of either of you.”
“Ewww.” Claire swats him away. “You’re disgusting.”
“Nah, I’m just a teenage boy, love.”
“Topless pictures of Sam. That’s what we were talking about,” she tells him. “Kath loves them, don’t you, Kath?”
I blush and elbow her. “Ugh, no.” I frown back down at my phone, trying to avoid eye contact. We all know that Sam doesn’t date. I’ve successfully managed to repress the crush I had on him when I was younger. Most of the time at least. And I’m focussed on medical school anyway.
In fairness, it would be almost impossible not to find Sam attractive. Occasionally, I’ve thought that there might be a chance for something more, but nothing’s ever come of it.
“Oh right.” Ben leans over the arm of the sofa. “How bizarre is it that we know a guy with an Olympic record? My younger sister’s now completely obsessed with him. She was asking my mum if we could invite him round for dinner. She even wanted to get a poster, but I said that would be creepy.”
“What’s creepy?” I hear Sam’s voice behind me, and Claire lets out one of her trademark high decibel shrieks as she goes to hug him. His blue eyes scan my face, and I smile at him. He looks good. The weeks of holiday with his parents brought out the lighter blond in his hair and gave him a tan.
“Anyone excited to see me?” asks Josh as he walks in behind him.
“Have you got an Olympic medal?” Claire asks. “If not I’m probably not interested in talking to you.”
“You wound me. Sam might let me borrow one of his. Would that make me worth talking to?”
“Mate, well done.” Ben claps Sam on the back. “When did you get back? Tell me about Paris.”
Sam smiles. “Paris was cool, I guess.”
“Cool, I guess,” mocks Claire. “Come on, Sam, give us more than that.”
“Errr.” He scratches his neck, looking slightly awkward again, and I’m just about to swoop in to save him by asking about his mum when Ben interrupts.
“Fuck me, you’re taller than I remember,” he says. “I swear every time you come back from a few weeks away from school, you’re even more stacked. We were just talking about how we drool over your topless photos, weren’t we, girls?”
I flush bright red. I can’t look Sam in the eye. Ben’s right, he does look taller. And more muscled. His arms are straining against his T-shirt. And I know his abs are defined too, because I’ve seen them before. Argh, stop thinking about topless Sam. What is wrong with me?
“That is not what we were saying,” I counter. “You’re misconstruing the entire conversation.”
“Doth the lady protest too much?” Ben smirks, and I elbow him for the third time in as many minutes.
“Looking at topless photos of me, KitKat?” Sam grins. “Just ask for the real thing.”
I flush even more, lost for words. When did Sam get flirty? Or maybe he’s just joking, and I’m the one misconstruing things… again?
“You’re the worst,” I tell him as Ben cackles behind us. “For your information, the only topless photos I’ve seen are the ones the rest of the country has, and I was talking about the school website. Everyone needs to calm down.”
“Sure thing.” He winks at me.
We mingle with our other friends, and I stick by Sam as person after person comes by to congratulate him.
I know how much he hates attention, and I’ve become used to providing a buffer over the years.
He’s smiling and joking, but I can hear his tone getting a bit tired when he recounts the same stories about the Olympic Village to the latest person to arrive.
His smiles are beginning to get stilted in a way I don’t think anyone else would have noticed.
“I think you might be something of a big deal now,” I tease him when we finally manage to escape for a quick break. “Don’t worry, I’ll forcibly change the subject next time.”
“Thanks.” Sam gives me a grateful smile. “I don’t know how many times I can tell the same anecdotes.”
I top up my wine glass in the kitchen whilst he locates some crisps.
People are getting steadily tipsier back in the living room, the hubbub of noise spilling over into other rooms. I breathe in the calm of the kitchen and open a window so that we can both cool ourselves on the breeze that curls into the room.
“Anyway,” Sam continues. “You still did way better in your GCSEs than I did. You’re the other school celebrity. I think Mr Rudd is probably prouder of you than he is of me.”
I wave off his comment about the headmaster, and we stand in comfortable silence for a few minutes, munching away on the crisps.
“We need to celebrate your results.” He nudges me with his elbow. “You need some kind of reward for doing so well.”
I smile at him softly. It’s a lovely sentiment, but I don’t need anything.
I did it for myself, after all. I need good results to get into medical school.
Whenever anyone else spoke about wanting to be an astronaut one week, or a dog walker the next, I only ever wanted to be a doctor.
At least I’m one step closer. It made the reading of flashcards and endless, endless notes worth it.
“Watching you get two medals was enough for me,” I tell him, and he blushes.
He’s opening his mouth to reply when we’re interrupted by the sound of Claire chanting, “Game! Game! Game! Game!” from the living room.
I cock an eyebrow at Sam, who heaves out a sigh before pulling me down from where I’m perched on the kitchen counter and leading me through the house.
He plonks himself into the armchair, and I sit on the floor in front of him as our friends form a loose circle in the living room.
There are more people here than I’d realised; in fact, most of our form and even a few people from other schools take up most of the space.
I know that Sam doesn’t like this type of thing.
I lean back on his legs reassuringly and his hand finds its way to my shoulder.
“What are we playing?” asks Ben. “I love a drinking game.”
“As if you play many drinking games,” Claire scoffs. “I think we should play Never Have I Ever.”
“Ugh,” I groan. “Do we have to?”
I don’t think this is going to end well. Last time we played this people used it to throw around thinly veiled threats about secrets they knew.
“Yes,” she pouts at me in a tone that doesn’t leave much room for discussion, flicking her hair over her shoulder and taking another sip of her drink.
“We’re nearly in sixth form. We get to have fun and play drinking games.
I’m starting.” She surveys the room and smiles.
“OK then. Never have I ever won an Olympic medal.”
We all laugh as Sam sheepishly takes a swig of his beer.
“Watch out, mate,” Josh warns him. “You’ll be a total lightweight.”
He’s right. I’ve never seen Sam drink before.
How many has he had this evening? I frown as I try to work it out.
Maybe three over the few hours that we’ve been here.
He’s probably already buzzed. It’s not legal, but most of our friends find a way to get a drink or two at parties.
I do too. I’m just always very careful, and know exactly where my limit is.
“Noted,” says Sam. “But it’s worth it. One of my few nights of fun. OK. Never have I ever got with someone on school grounds.”
Most of the group drink. Sam’s absentmindedly stroking my shoulder again, and I lean back into his legs with a sigh. His hands are making me sleepy. I’m not sure how much longer I’ll last in this game. I’m covering a yawn when Josh toasts me with his drink before his go.
“Never have I ever got straight A stars.”
Claire lets out a whoop. They all knew my results anyway.
“What a nerd,” one of the guys from St Vincent’s mutters. My grip on my glass tightens.
“Fuck off,” says Sam, and the guy scowls. “Never have I ever got drunk and vomited on my parents’ lawn.” Sam deflects the conversation. “He’s just jealous,” he whispers to me as Ben drinks.
That guy’s comment cuts more than it should. The game continues, and I zone out a bit before Ben grins and asks another question.
“It might be a shot in the dark, but what about this: never have I ever slept with an Olympian.”
I feel everyone look towards us. Initially I think they’re just teasing me, before I see the look in Claire’s eyes.
A look of shock. I turn to Sam, and my smile fades as he takes a sip of his beer.
My wine suddenly feels sour in my stomach.
He’s looking at me, and I quickly paste a smile onto my face, though I know he feels my body stiffen where I sit against his legs.
“What the hell, man?” says Josh, as I turn back to face the group. “Who did you sleep with? And why didn’t you tell me?”
“It’s not a big deal,” he mumbles. “The Olympic Village is crazy. It was just one of the other swimmers who was also sixteen, all totally legal. Can we not talk about it?”
“I knew it,” Ben crows. “I had heard rumours about the Olympic Village. You’re such a dark horse, Fletcher; I knew something would’ve happened.”
Claire shoots me a concerned look. It’s hard to analyse my feelings in this environment. Am I upset because he didn’t tell me? We’ve always told each other everything. Or is it that I thought our friendship might evolve into something more?
I knew all those glances over the years were in my head. Stupid over-analysing brain.
Sam nudges me with his leg and leans forwards. “Are you alright?” he whispers in my ear.
Ugh. Now I regret sitting so close to him. We always sit like this, but suddenly I’m imagining him doing the same thing with someone else. I thought this easy familiarity was something just the two of us had. But obviously I was wrong.
“Yep.” I nod. “Sorry, the wine's going to my head a bit.”
“Do you want me to get you some water?” he asks. “The beer’s going to my head too. I don’t know why I just admitted to that.”
“I’m fine,” I say weakly. Our faces are now too close for my comfort. “Sounds like a pretty wild week for you after I left Paris then. I hadn’t realised you were partying before you went away with your parents.”
I really hope the words don’t sound bitter. I don’t mean them to. Or do I? I don’t know. I honestly can’t work out what I’m feeling right now, and the wine isn’t helping.
He grimaces. “Can we talk about it later?”
“Sure.” I hope that my voice doesn’t sound tight.
“You’re staying at mine tonight, right?” he asks.
“Umm,” I hedge. “I have netball quite early tomorrow so I might go home. But I could come over later in the day. I can’t wait to see your mum again and hopefully eat some of her brownies before you get to them.”
“Oh.” He looks slightly taken aback. “Of course. That’s fine. I know she missed you.”
I turn to face the group again and take a deep breath. Only one more hour before I can leave and then finally the knot in my stomach might start to fade.