Chapter 24
Twenty-four
‘VICTORIA.’ I LEANED MY head against the wood and knocked softly, my breath warming the keyhole. ‘V, can you let me in?’
‘Go away,’ came her muffled reply.
‘Please. It’s just me. The boys are in their rooms.’ I waited, my back slumped against the door. ‘Come on, V.’
I heard the floorboards creak and then footsteps. The door opened a fraction, and Victoria’s face appeared in the crack above me. ‘Just go to bed, Shannon.’
I jammed my arm inside the gap and stood. ‘No, let me in.’
‘Leave me alone. I’ve made enough of a fool of myself today,’ she said, walking away from me and collapsing face first onto the bed.
I crept inside the room and sat down as lightly as I could beside her. The hem of her dress had ridden up, revealing her underwear. I carefully replaced the fabric.
‘V. Talk to me.’
She groaned into her pillow.
‘Come on. What was all that about?’
‘Everyone hates me.’
‘No, they don’t.’
‘You hate me.’
‘I don’t.’
‘Really?’
‘No, I could never—’
‘Do you love me?’
‘V—’
‘Do you?’
‘Yes. You know I do.’
She turned her head and peered up at me. Her eyes were black and tear-stained. Her hair, wild and unkempt.
‘Sometimes I don’t think anyone loves me. Sometimes I think people only want to be around me because of what they think they can get from me.’
I shushed her. ‘That’s not true. Not for me, at least.’
She gave me a watery smile and sniffed. ‘Shannon’ – the smile faded – ‘I know I’m fucked up right now, but there’s something I should tell you, something I should’ve said a long time ago.’
‘Oh.’
‘But it – it’s hard for me to talk about . . .’
‘Well, you don’t need to say anything right now,’ I said half-heartedly, laying a hand on the small of her back.
I paused and waited for her to continue, desperate for her to reveal her secrets to me.
But she remained silent. I gave her a tiny nudge.
‘I mean – if you want to try though, I’m a good listener . . .’
‘I don’t want you to think any differently of me,’ she whimpered, ‘to think any less of me.’
I balled her into my arms. ‘I could never think any less of you.’
‘You’re kind.’ She took a deep shushing breath in, then out. ‘OK.’ But then her body tightened and she wriggled free from my grasp. ‘Did you say Obi had gone to bed?’
‘Err, yes . . .’
Her shoulders slumped. ‘He really does hate me.’
‘He doesn’t.’
‘He should.’
‘Don’t be silly.’
‘You’re not . . . attracted to him, are you?’
‘No!’ I shot back. ‘Why – why would you even ask that?’
‘No reason,’ she muttered. ‘Does he know you’re here?’
‘No, but V, what did you want to tell me?’ I asked, trying to steer her back to her previous admission.
‘I don’t trust him.’
‘Come on, what are you talking about?’
‘They’re just pretending. Everyone’s just pretending to be my friend. But not you. You wouldn’t do that. You don’t think like that. You’re a good person, a good person, Shannon. Everyone uses me. Obi uses me. Stefano, Jolly. Everyone wants a piece of me, but no one wants to help clear up the mess.’
I could see I wasn’t about to get anything concrete out of her tonight.
She was in a frantic state, babbling and paranoid.
I pulled her into my arms again and stroked her hair, trying to calm her racing heart.
But she wriggled free again and, kneeling, gripped the straps of my dress.
‘You’ve never been with a girl before, have you? ’
‘N-no,’ I stuttered, taken aback by this sudden swerve in conversation.
‘I have,’ she said, her eyes wide and unblinking. ‘I’ve done it loads of times. Me and Cora, we used to come up here when the house was empty, when Mummy was away and we were teenagers. I know exactly what to do.’ She slipped her hand between my legs.
I gasped and seized her wrist to stop her going any further. ‘V – I – are you sure you want to—’
With a mad glint in her eyes, she clambered on top of me. I froze, unsure what was happening, what I was meant to do or if I should stop her.
‘I don’t want to take advantage of you,’ I offered feebly.
She threw her head back and laughed as if the idea was completely absurd. ‘Oh sweetie, you could never.’
‘But it kind of seems like you’ve—’
‘I’ve not taken anything,’ she said sharply. But then her expression softened. ‘Come on.’ She leaned over me; her hair tickled my shoulders; I smelled wine on her breath. ‘This is what you want, isn’t it?’ she said, worming her fingers inside my underwear.
‘Y-yes,’ I said.
‘So let’s just have fun, yeah?’
I looked at her face, searching it for traces of mockery, for evidence that this was all some terrible joke at my expense. Noting my hesitation, she kissed me, gently at first, then with more urgency. That’s when I finally gave in, sinking against the pillows, utterly powerless to resist her.
She pulled away for a moment and I took the opportunity to stroke her cheek, her forehead, to check this was real, to check she was real. She smiled, showing a row of purple-stained teeth. Her fingers slid inside me.
‘V—’ I grabbed her neck and pulled her towards me, my body melting beneath her touch. ‘I’ve wanted this, I’ve wanted this so much—’
She kissed me, a way of shutting me up. I didn’t mind.
I kissed her back, desperate to consume her, swallow her, make her a part of me.
My hands felt their way down the hard ridges of her spine, the soft canvas of her skin, towards her thighs, grabbing fistfuls of her arse, finally, after all this time, allowed to touch her freely.
She pulled me tighter and I felt her fingers coax within me, pulsing and insistent.
She released her hand and wiped it on the sheets. She sat back and pulled my underwear all the way past my feet. ‘Did Stefano ever go down on you?’
I shook my head.
‘And your summer boy?’ she asked, raising one eyebrow.
‘There – there was no summer boy.’
‘Yeah,’ she said with a sly smile. ‘I figured.’ She tossed the flimsy black material onto the floor. ‘Lie still,’ she whispered, spreading my knees apart.