CHAPTER SIX
BUD LEROY
Just think of me as your own personal cheerleader. But I don’t, like, think you’re a crackpot like the actual cheerleaders do.
Vampire Falls. Season one, episode six – “Did You See?”
The wall feels cold and hard against my forehead. I dread to think the last time it was cleaned, but who cares if I catch E. coli from invisible handprints and die a slow, painful death. I certainly don’t.
The door beeps and Roxy shuffles in with baggage slung around her like a donkey; I’m too emotionally drained to carry anything.
I follow her into our room and slump headfirst onto the terracotta-coloured bedspread.
Again, probably covered in bacteria invisible to the naked eye, but who cares when your life is ruined.
“Did Charlie Chamberlain just become the guest of honour at my convention?”
“What?” says Roxy. “I can’t hear what you’re mumbling into the bed.”
Roxy hauls me over like she’s pulling me into the recovery position. I mean, I don’t think it’ll help but I would be willing to give it a try. My head lolls round and I stare at her.
“Damon Van Schwartz knows I’m a virgin,” I whisper.
“I think the entire hotel knows you’re a virgin, babe.”
“Uuuuh!” I throw my arm over my face. “Why? Why is this happening?”
“Get off the bed,” she says. “Unpack. It’ll make you feel better.”
I sit up and gape at her.
“We can’t stay,” I say.
She looks back at me, a bag of Kettle Chips clamped under her chin and a bottle of vodka in each hand.
“Now what are you talking about?”
“We can’t stay, Roxy. Not now. Not now I’ve humiliated myself. Not now he’s here.”
“Damon Van Schwartz?”
“Charlie Chamberlain.”
She puts everything down and lays next to me.
“Why do you say his name like that?” she asks. “You always say his full name, since you fell out.”
“Because it’s more words to clench my teeth around and when I think of him my teeth get clenchy, Roxy. That’s why.”
“Clenchy teeth. OK.” Roxy takes a deep breath and turns to me. “How serious are you about not staying?”
“As serious as when Cox the Observer told Whitlock Abrahams that the fate of the world rested on him giving birth. To triplets.”
She whips round to look at me.
“Wow. That is serious.” She flings her long legs up so they’re vertical then does a cool sort of flip up from the bed. “But you’re overreacting.”
“I’m sorry, have we only just met?” I wail. Yes, wail. “This is standard level reaction, neither over nor under. Standard. Level.”
She shakes her head.
“No, this is a higher-than-normal response to something that doesn’t have to affect the weekend,” she says. “You’ve been on Eliza steroids since I picked you up. What’s going on with you?”
I start crawling under the bedspread but Roxy dives at me, yanking the covers out of my hand.
“Hey! I need that; it’s my cloak of invisibility.”
She throws it over her shoulder like she’s just whipped off a superhero cape.
God, everything she does is so cool. Maybe because she’s so tall.
Maybe because she’s Roxy. I look down at my (still reeking) offensive T-shirt and groan, then Jawfain, my cuddly grey bat, lands on my lap.
Jawfain the bat lives in the abandoned asylum with Viggo Rassmussen and is perhaps his only true friend.
Roxy gave it to me a year ago when my nanna died.
It was so sweet of her, and I was such an emotional wreck at the time that I could only just manage a GIF of Viggo bowing and saying thank you.
I give Jawfain a hefty squeeze. Roxy sits next to me and starts fussing my hair.
“Look, I know this isn’t exactly your ideal, but we’ve been planning it for months and we’re here, Eliza. We’re here, at the one place you love the most.”
“But . . .”
She folds her arms and frowns at me.
“Don’t let him ruin this for you, Eliza. It’s been over a year of avoidance since you . . . since he stopped hanging out with us, and you can’t let him run us out of here too.”
“It’s not just him . . .” I sigh, my stomach churning when I think of Mum’s reminder about decision time, earlier.
“Then what?” she says, but I can’t tell her.
Not now, it’ll ruin the weekend – and if I say it out loud then it’s really happening.
She pulls me up into a half slump. “Look, babe, have a shower, like, immediately, because it’s beyond offensive now.
We’ll register, then go to the opening ceremony.
Let’s see how that goes, and then if you feel the same way, we can leave tomorrow. OK?”
“Really?”
She nods.
“If you really can’t bear it, we’ll leave, but I’m not driving back when we’ve only just got here. Fair?”
“Fair,” I say. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She ruffles my hair. I think touching my hair might be a way to manipulate me. “OK. I will find the masquerade ball playlist and you, fair one, can get your stinky self in that shower.” I give her a hug. “I am literally trying not to vomit down your back right now.”
“I love you too,” I say, grabbing my wash bag and heading into the shower.