Chapter Four
Four
The one where he hated our music
Four hours before I turned sixteen, Sam and I were jumping around his room like lunatics dancing to ‘Untouched’ by The Veronicas on full volume.
The adults were downstairs doing their usual shmoozing and drinking until they could barely stand while we got buzzed off too much Diet Coke, jam doughnuts and Haribo.
Earlier that day, we’d been to the cinema with a few school friends in a joint birthday celebration of sorts, but the Harrisons’ house party that night was still very much for adults.
It wasn’t explicitly said so, but we knew we were to be seen and not heard.
Except we’d decided to be heard and not seen.
We were in our emo era. It was all heavy eyeliner, dark clothes, messed-up hair and those black-and-white chequered belts. I even had a streak of pink hair for the Christmas holidays as it wasn’t allowed at school.
Since we had become friends two years ago, we had been practically inseparable.
Turns out Sam wasn’t all that popular at school, so I was doing him a favour on my first day as much as he was me.
We made a point of being introverted by slinking off to corners to listen to music, sharing earphones from one of our bashed-up iPods.
There was a kind of melody to it. A friendship founded through our flaws rather than our strengths.
I lived a ten-minute drive away around that time, so Mum would drop me off outside the Harrisons’ house so we could walk to school together. Dad had already been promoted, so he was no longer working for Sam’s dad, which resolved any concerns I had about power dynamics.
One day, on our stroll in, Sam said, “You’re my friend.”
I snorted. “What? No. Haven’t you worked out yet that we’re mortal enemies? I’m just keeping you close.”
“Obviously. But for the sake of appearances, we have to act like friends.”
“Obviously.”
“And if we’re pretending to be friends, I have a rule.”
“Rules are boring.”
“It’s important.”
I tucked my thumbs under my backpack strap and shrugged. “Fine, I guess. What is it?”
Sam sighed. “You can’t fancy my brother.”
Heat pooled in my cheeks. “I thought we’d established he’s an idiot? I’m not going to fancy an idiot.”
Sam stepped ahead of me and blocked my path, his cool, blue gaze scrutinising my face as he flicked his head back to get the hair out of his eyes.
I swallowed, trying to corral my features into blankness.
I didn’t even know his brother. I’d only seen glimpses at best. The problem was that the glimpses I had gotten had a way of making my tummy dip and my fingers tingle.
The only other time I’d ever experienced that kind of sensation before was from watching the live-action Peter Pan.
If Sam could see that in my expression, he didn’t let on. At the end of the day, I needed him as a friend, and he needed me. It wasn’t as if I was ever going to have a chance with Freddie anyway, so I decided to continue to pretend.
Sam kept his narrowed eyes on me as he said, “It’s important because he gets everything he wants and does whatever he wants, and I hate him. And if you like him then I can’t like you. It’s the way it has to be.”
I nodded. “If you want me to hate him on your behalf then I will. Consider him hated.”
“He’s the worst,” Sam reiterated, but he fell in step, satisfied with my declaration.
It wasn’t until we changed the music to Panic!
At The Disco and started to sing (well, scream and shout) the lyrics that the door to Sam’s room opened so fast, we both jumped and flung ourselves onto his bed, squealing as if we were about to be murdered.
I tried to hide under his pillow, but Sam snatched it off me to use as a shield.
A tall man stood in the door, looking at us with wild, kiwi-green eyes.
His tawny hair was all mussed up as if he’d been sleeping or lying down.
It took me a second to register that it was Freddie.
I’d hardly seen him since he’d been at university.
Especially as, when he was at home, he barely left his bedroom.
There had been something stirring in the Harrison household that year.
A shift in the mood. They patched it over whenever I was around but something was broken, the cracks hard to completely disguise.
No one spoke much at dinner, sullen looks shared across the table, and everyone escaped to their rooms as soon as they were done with their food.
The living room had become cold and lifeless.
When I’d arrived for the party, Sam’s parents had been holding hands downstairs and smiling at each other. It occurred to me that it was strange to see them so close.
Sam never talked about it, though. The Harrisons were masters of sweeping things under the rug.
“Are you fucking taking the piss, Sam?” Freddie growled, taking two long strides across the room and grabbing the speakers.
Sam flung himself at Freddie, tackling his legs. “Don’t… You fuck! That’s mine!” He must’ve knocked Freddie’s knees because he collapsed to the ground and rolled to kick Sam off. They scuffled like that briefly while I hugged my knees, out of reach.
“I have company, and they don’t want to listen to this shit music,” Freddie grunted between punches, both given and received.
I watched them grapple some more, thanking my lucky stars I was an only child. Sam was all claws and sharp angles, catching Freddie with elbows, knees and even his chin at one point. Meanwhile, Freddie was strong, able to keep Sam away from him for seconds at a time with only one arm.
“We’re listening to that!” Sam wailed once he was finally pinned to the floor. “You’re such a stupid fuck! It’s my birthday! I’ll listen to what I want to!”
Freddie hadn’t noticed there was someone else in the room.
He frowned when he looked up, his eyes connecting with mine in a way that could’ve melted me on the spot.
Sam took this opportunity to kick him in the groin, which had Freddie rolling and coughing into the foetal position.
Sam snatched the speaker back and kicked his brother once more for good measure.
“Get out!” Sam yelled.
Freddie slowly got himself together, climbing at first to a seated position before standing and giving Sam a deadly look. “You’re lucky I’m too old to tell on you, you little shit.”
“Idiot,” Sam muttered back.
“Keep it down,” Freddie replied, eyeing him with a warning stare.
“Whatever!”
Freddie looked at me again. Being in such close proximity to this handsome, grown man made me entirely incomprehensible.
I could just smell a hint of mint and alcohol rolling off his breath.
“Sorry you had to witness that, Hattie. But I’m even sorrier you have such terrible taste in friends.
If you ever need rescuing, just bang on that wall three times, yeah? ”
He left with a wink as a George R. R. Martin book from Sam’s collection was flung towards the back of his head. I willed my imagination not to picture Freddie coming to my rescue but failed entirely.
“Stop it,” Sam said to me, pointing a finger.
My eyes went wide. “What?!”
“You’re such a girl,” he said, rolling his eyes. “You know he has an actual woman next door, right? Like an adult female.”
“Don’t say female. It’s icky.”
“You promised not to fancy him.”
I scoffed dramatically. “I don’t! He’s an idiot, remember!”
“Hmm…” was all Sam said before pushing his chest of drawers in front of his door and putting Enter Shikari on full volume to really piss Freddie off. My dancing afterwards was half-hearted, desperate to will away the heavy feeling from my legs.