30 ‘I’m not going to do karaoke’ and other lies I tell myself
30
‘I’m not going to do karaoke’ and other lies I tell myself
Ava
I wouldn’t say Josie’s events management style is dictatorial, but I wouldn’t not say it either. She’s had me running errands and setting up for the party all day, and I’ve been so busy I’ve not had the chance to think about what happened last night. She’s even roped Max, who arrived earlier this afternoon, into helping, enlisting him to hang fairy lights as our resident human ladder.
Now I’m scouring my wardrobe, and it’s the first opportunity I’ve had to think. I more or less ran away from Finn when Rosetta let us out last night, intent on putting as much distance between us as I could, as soon as I could. I was concerned about what might happen if I’d stayed with him. Because he was right. There was something between us. Some tension we needed to quash. Now it’s out of our systems and we can get on with our lives.
I tug a top off a hanger, and my brain decides this is the moment to remind me that Finn O’Callaghan kisses better than most men fuck, and then I think about places his mouth didn’t go, and my body flushes all over and I have to take a long, hard look at myself in the mirror.
I just need to get through this evening. Baby steps. No need for any weirdness while my two favourite people are here too.
I’d half expected Finn to text me about it, but so far there’s been nothing. Maybe he’s not even coming to the party anymore. I can’t tell if that’d be better or worse. Better, because I’d feel a little more in control of myself. Worse, because I’d probably spend the whole time wondering what he’s doing instead. Fuck, I don’t know.
The sound of Max and Alina laughing in the living room makes me smile, and then there’s a knock at my door, followed by Josie barging into my room with the subtlety of a bull in a china shop, trilling, ‘Today’s the day!’
She stands expectantly in front of me, a glass of Prosecco in each hand. I take one of them gratefully, relishing the fizz on my tongue.
‘It is,’ I say non-committally. Then I analyse her face and say, ‘You’ve got a tiny bit of mascara flecked under your left eye, hold on.’
I hand her a cotton bud and she wipes it away as I go back to rummaging through my wardrobe. We had this routine when we were at uni: she’d knock at my door, I’d check her makeup, and then we’d do whatever activity she was dragging me along to. So much has changed, but in this tiny way, we’re still those wide-eyed eighteen year olds.
‘You don’t seem excited. I thought you might finally be looking forward to this.’ She perches on my bed, which is bestrewn with evidence of my sartorial indecision. Meanwhile, she looks immaculate, as always.
‘My get-up-and-go appears to have got up and gone.’
‘I’m not sure your get-up-and-go ever got up and came,’ she points out, pulling a pair of denim dungarees from under her so she can sit more comfortably.
‘Well, exactly.’ I sigh. ‘I don’t know what to wear.’
‘The nineties dress,’ she exclaims. ‘The one from the charity shop that I forced you to buy? We can be matching in green.’
‘Josephine, you are the answer to all my prayers.’ She shrugs and sips her Prosecco, and I unhook two hangers that have got tangled up in each other as I ask, ‘Are you all packed for your trip?’
Tomorrow, Josie and Alina are going away for a few days visiting Josie’s family, and I can’t tell if it’s admirable or insane to do this the day after a party.
‘I think so,’ she says, finishing her glass just as Alina calls for her help from the other room. ‘My services are required elsewhere. But Ava,’ she brushes invisible dust off her skirt, ‘just relax tonight. And have fun .’
She sweeps out of my room in a cloud of floral perfume, and I eventually find the dress pooled at the bottom of my wardrobe, fallen off its hanger.
The low hum of music through the wall is regularly punctuated by hoots of laughter and the sound of the front door opening and closing. I’ve only just finished getting myself sorted, mostly due to a chaotic experience styling my fringe that made me seriously consider just chopping it off.
My too-low mirror taunts me, and I stand far away to get as much of myself in the reflection as possible. The dress is a forest-green, and as close as I’ll ever get to a colour found in the rainbow. It’s tight across most of my body, clinging to every dip and bump in the way the world tells me I should be insecure about, thin straps holding it up over my shoulders. I fluff my hair, smooth the material over my hips and step out into the party.
People are milling about in the living area, sprawled across the sofa and armchair clutching drinks, or sitting at the wooden chairs around our dining table. Rudy’s clearly enjoying the attention he’s getting while he’s off duty, moving around to find new people to receive pets from. The crowd is mostly made up of Josie and Alina’s peers from the art and museum circuit. I recognise a few of them from Instagram photos and shoot a smile at two of Josie’s author friends who I met once at a pub in Tooting. Interspersed amongst them, Josie’s playing hostess offering drinks, Alina never far behind, and Max is cracking up at the end of the breakfast bar as he talks to a curly-haired man in a burnt-orange shirt with his back to me. But I recognise that back. The last time I saw it was in a messy storeroom.
As if he feels my eyes on him, Finn turns around, and in that moment I don’t know if I’m relieved or terrified he’s here.
‘Late to your own party,’ he says as he approaches, stopping a foot away and leaning against the archway that separates the living area from the bedrooms.
‘Technically, it’s Josie’s party. I’m just her sous-host.’
I don’t miss how he drags his gaze down my body and back up again. But then, I’m not sure he wants me to. ‘You look—’
‘Don’t finish that sentence,’ I cut in. ‘Let’s not do that here.’
When he meets my eyes again, he says, ‘I went back to the warehouse and collected our pottery. I just gave your pieces to Josie and she stashed them away somewhere. But,’ for the first time I notice he has something in his hands, ‘I figured that since this is a housewarming I should bring you an actual gift.’ He gives it to me and I can’t stop the stupid smile from spreading across my face. The ugly plant pot he painted yesterday is now home to a tiny, spiky cactus. ‘Apparently these things are almost unkillable.’
‘Sounds like a challenge,’ I say, peering again at the terrible artwork. It somehow looks worse than yesterday.
He grins again. ‘If anyone can do it, you can.’
I laugh and take the plant to my room, depositing it on my chest of drawers and hurrying back to Finn before he gets any ideas about following me. ‘I’ll cherish it forever. But also, calling this a housewarming was just a ruse to get people to come. We’ve lived here for the better part of a year.’
‘In that case, give me the pot back.’
‘Absolutely not. I’m giving it to Josie to put in her exhibition.’
His laugh unfurls, and I do too, and then I can sense what’s coming next. He takes the smallest step towards me to ask, ‘Are we gonna talk about it?’
‘No,’ I say simply, and I can practically feel his eyes rolling at my refusal as I brush past him, inadvertently swirling his cologne around me as I do. I make myself an Aperol Spritz while one of Alina’s friends grabs a can from the fridge, and Finn waits for them to move out of earshot before speaking again.
‘I don’t understand.’
‘There’s nothing to understand.’ I take my glass and walk past him once more, but he catches me by the wrist so that I’m forced to face him, and the air thickens enough to make it difficult for me to speak. I keep my voice as level as I can. ‘It was just a kiss.’
He shakes his head with a short laugh and leans in, voice rough against my ear. ‘I was there, Ava. No it wasn’t.’
He lets go and I walk away, pretending the thunderous pounding of blood in my ears isn’t drowning out the conversation I join.
I glance over at the sofa, where Finn and Max are howling with laughter. Finn lifts his shirt to wipe tears off his glasses and the second I see that innocuous strip of stomach, I’m launched back in time to last night, to the feel of him under my hands. I avert my gaze and try to pay attention to the conversation, where Alina’s bashfully talking through some of the pieces of her art that we have on our walls.
As her friends move closer to one of the frames, Alina steps towards me, her tone suspicious. ‘Ava,’ she says slowly. ‘What exactly is going on between you and Finn?’
‘There’s tension, right?’ Josie asks, appearing out of nowhere – a magnet for gossip – and passing her girlfriend a drink.
‘Nothing is going on.’
Finn raises his drink to his mouth and looks my way, holding my gaze for a beat too long. I bring my own glass to my lips but find there’s only ice left. He smirks and turns back to Max.
‘Right,’ Alina says. ‘Because all you’re doing is looking at each other and I’m blushing.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Mate, are you good for a beer?’ Max asks Finn as he heads towards the kitchen for a refill, where Julien and Rory are talking with one of Josie’s work friends. My tipsy brain notices he’s still not putting his weight on his leg fully, just like the last time I saw him.
I push past everyone to sit on the newly vacated sofa.
‘Behave yourself,’ I say to Finn, no preamble.
He laughs, and I hate what it does to my insides. ‘You’re the one acting weird tonight.’
I can’t even deny it. ‘Just be normal.’
‘As addressed. I am being normal.’
‘No, you’re looking at me like,’ I brandish my glass, ‘I don’t know, like you want to devour me.’
‘Funny,’ he murmurs, so low it’s more of a feeling than a sound. His tongue flicks across his lips and when his gaze moves over me, it turns my blood to syrup. ‘Because that’s exactly what I want to do.’
The entire bottom half of my body melts like wax to a flame, and I shift on the sofa in the hope that I might solidify back into the shape of a stable human. Max laughs in the kitchen with one of Josie’s friends and it draws me back into the room.
Finn raises his eyebrows and then leans back against the cushions, looking over my shoulder for a moment. ‘I think I’m in love with your brother.’
I bite back a smile. Finn doesn’t even know half of what makes Max so incredible. ‘Not the first time I’ve heard those words come out of a friend’s mouth, funnily enough.’
‘Is it fair that he’s tall, funny and cool?’
‘Adjectives that describe only my brother, and definitely not me at all, not even a little bit.’
‘You, Ava Monroe,’ he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, fingertips lingering for a fraction of a second at my neck, ‘evade description.’
There it is again, my heartbeat finding a home somewhere between my legs. I inhale deeply and ask, ‘What were you two talking about, anyway?’
‘Everywhere I’ve lived, the places we’ve both been, where we wanna visit next. I’m pretty sure I watched some of his videos before I ever met you, actually.’ He watches me swirl ice around my glass. ‘Maybe that’s why I like him. I feel like I’m in the presence of a celebrity.’
‘What am I, a piece of dirt?’ He sighs at my petulance, but his smile is fond when I continue, ‘You’re right though. Max is something special.’
The party buzzes around us, but here in this pocket of space, everything is still. He studies me, choosing his words carefully. ‘Did you know everything on this planet is made of stardust? You, me, this couch. All of it. But I think it’s often easy to forget that.’ His gaze sends static shocks tingling across my skin. ‘I never forget that you come from the stars, Ava.’
My voice is quiet. ‘You have to stop saying things like that.’
Max reappears and flops down into the space between us, jerking me backwards. ‘Saying things like what?’
‘Nothing,’ Finn and I say in unison.
‘Are you bullying my sister?’ For a split second, I can tell Finn thinks he’s serious, but then Max shrugs and adds, ‘Was hoping to join in. It’s one of my favourite pastimes.’
‘I think you probably already know who the bully is in this relationship,’ Finn says under his breath, taking a beer from Max, who barks out a laugh. A laugh threatens to escape me too, for an entirely different reason.
Max sits forward to talk to someone on the opposite side of the coffee table and I lean towards Finn behind him to whisper, ‘You don’t have to pretend to like beer around him. Just ask for something else if you want it.’
‘I like beer,’ he says unconvincingly, taking a swig from his bottle and just about hiding a grimace.
Max sits up straight before looking around the room like he’s searching for something. ‘Okay, I was told there’d be karaoke. Why is no one singing?’
Finn catches my eye again and says, ‘See? I knew I liked him.’
‘Before we do, I have a question.’ Max shoots me a grin, mischief in his eyes, and I can tell what he’s going to ask because we’ve been playing this game since we were old enough to drink. ‘My sweet, sweet sister, what time is it?’
I release a noise that’s probably a laugh but could easily be a sob. ‘I think it’s shots o’clock.’
Josie does, of course, coax me into performing with her. And once Max’s shots are involved, I need even less persuasion.
I open my eyes as I release my hand from an air grab, successfully ending a particularly emotional ballad that really shows off my range. My range is, arguably, extremely small, but I’ve shown it off nonetheless. Someone whistles from the kitchen, Rory applauds from the sofa like he’s front row at the O2, and Finn lets out a choked sound from the dining table before dropping his head in his hands.
Alina and her friend get up to sing Dolly Parton and I pull out the chair next to Finn. After a couple of moments, he looks up at me, eyes watering, and I wonder if I should offer him a tissue.
‘Oh my god ,’ he says at last, the final word breaking the fragile remnants of his resolve and sending him into a fit of laughter. ‘That was life-changing. In entirely the worst way. Like, genuinely, I fully understand why you didn’t want me to come to the party now.’
I flip him off, which only makes him laugh harder. ‘Fuck off, I don’t see you hitting those notes either.’
‘Tell me,’ Finn looks at me again, laughter escaping from him in sharp bursts as he tries in vain to recover his composure, ‘when you encounter a melody, would you say that you typically consider it a concrete set of rules to follow, or more just a vague suggestion?’ Max passes us on his way to the bathroom and Finn asks him, ‘Did you hear that?’
‘That’s one of her better ones, unfortunately. You’re forgetting we were raised in the same household.’
‘This,’ I point between the two of them and shake my head, ‘is not happening. You’re not allowed to gang up on me. I just bared my soul. Have some respect.’
‘Maybe you should have some respect for my eardrums,’ Max says, scooting away before I have the chance to deliver my scathing retort.
Finn watches me with a smile on his face and it sends my pulse skittering. But then the buzzer goes and I glance at the door to see who’s arrived.
‘It’s Dylan,’ I say, and the pair of us get to our feet, though neither of us steps away yet. ‘I invited her last minute.’
‘Hey, look at that, you didn’t even need to make up a fake friend from work for this party after all.’ He points his thumb towards the door and starts to turn. ‘I guess I’ll see myself out.’
I rest my hand on his bicep instinctively, the muscle hard beneath the fabric. ‘I do need you. As a fake friend. Or a real friend. Or,’ I let go of his arm and shake the thought from my head, ‘something.’
He turns back to face me, inches between us, and I remember what it was like to be even closer to him than this. What it was like to feel him, to taste him. And there by my dining table, what little control I thought I had plunges out of my grasp like smoke between my fingers.
‘At this stage, Ava,’ I’m convinced he’s about to mention how he can see my heart ricocheting around my ribcage like a balloon with its air let out. But all he does is trace the lightest pattern on my hand with his fingertips and say, ‘I’ll be anything you want me to be.’
As Max, Josie and Finn perform an enthusiastic cover of ‘Take a Chance on Me’ by ABBA to raucous cheers from everyone in the flat, a heat descends on me, and I wonder if anyone else can feel it too.
The warmth that coats my skin isn’t sticky humidity like that day at the Barbican, or the biting burn of the midday sun on Clapham Common, but a fizzing haze that melts the frozen fortress around my heart, sending it floating away as steam.
It feels like time’s playing on my side for once. Like it’s saying, Don’t worry, I’m saving this one for you. I’m sure that someday, when I go to look back on this night through the sepia-tinted lens of nostalgia, these time-warped memories will have settled deep into the recesses of my mind. But I’ll bring them out and dust them off and see them for what they were: bold and bright and packed to the brim with the arrogant invincibility of youth.
Is this what I’ve been holding back from? People and places and new experiences, risking it all in the reckless hope of having more moments like this?
When Finn catches my eye as he sings into the microphone he’s sharing with Max, that smile so big it pushes up into the creases of his eyes, a laugh floods out of me, and then the warmth turns to light and the whole room is aglow.
I could take a chance on you , I think. I could take a chance on all of it.