Part 6 (1/2)
”Of course. I'll come and meet you by the crossroads.” I tell the others where I'm going, and the mention of Rugby Tom sends Dongle into a chorus of delighted whoops. I deliberately avoid looking at Lee. I'm glad his sister's not here. Better phone her, though; ambus.h.i.+ng her with Tom isn't likely to put Ruby in the most amenable of moods.
The call goes through to voicemail. The mention of ”Stuart Cheating s.h.i.+tbag Garside” reminds me of the unanswered question of Tom's new girlfriend. Even as I'm texting her, I dismiss Ruby's doubts. So what if Tom isn't keen on being paired off with this Stella girl? It doesn't mean it's because he's already taken. It could be that he doesn't fancy her or she doesn't fancy him.
It could be that he fancies someone else...
Like me.
RUBY.
When I get back, bouncing along with Owen's beaten-up guitar on my shoulder d.i.c.k Whittington-style, I'm surprised to find Kaz missing. Before I even sit down, Lee tells me where she's gone. I try not to look too disappointed. Kaz was too lazy to come for a walk up the hill with me, but she's fine to toddle off across the other side of the campsite to fetch her ex-boyfriend? How's that for priorities?
I reach into my pocket to pull out my phone, but it's not there. Before I can panic, Dongle hands it over. ”Kaz tried to call you and this thing started singing 'Sweet Caroline' at me, you loser.”
”It's Kaz's favourite song,” I lie, reading her message.
Sorry about this Tom's friends have abandoned him. Hope you don't mind him singing along with everyone else? She's stuck a hopeful-looking emoji on the end. I wish I could punch its tiny little face.
KAZ.
Stella is very attractive. She has shoulder-length hair that she's dyed a pretty pale pink and her eyelashes are impossibly long. As are her limbs. She's as tall as me and half the width, but for all that, as we're walking up the South Slope path, it's my eye that Tom keeps catching. I watch as he talks to Stella, thinking of how perfectly we fit together when his arm's around me and my fingers flex open, remembering how it was to rest the flat of my hand on his chest and feel the beating of his heart.
Tom turns to ask which way he's meant to go, his eyes lingering on mine.
The college lot know Tom well enough for me not to bother with introductions, and within minutes I lose him to Dongle, who says he's been deprived of sports talk since he got here. Stella takes a seat next to Lee while Ruby gestures at the guitar.
”Is that a guitar on your lap or are you just pleased to see me?” Dongle shouts out and Ruby flicks the cap of her beer bottle at him, catching him perfectly on the chin.
”Idiot,” she says. ”I was wondering whether Kaz might use it to play something suitably awesome.”
If she's annoyed with me about Tom, there's no sign of it. She grins up at me as she hands over the guitar, although when I start up with the first chords of the duet from Frozen, she throws an empty plastic bottle at me (which is preferable to a beer cap, judging by the cut on Dongle's chin).
Ruby hates that song.
When the laughter dies down, Anna suggests that I play something we'll hear this weekend: I know exactly what to play.
RUBY.
I recognize the intro within a nanosecond. ”Everything Ends Midnight.” My our favourite Gold'ntone song. It's not that it doesn't get to me when Adam Wexler sings it, but there's something special hearing it Kaz-style. On the track it's fairly upbeat, despite the gut-grabbing lyrics, but when Kaz takes it and turns it about, the song becomes haunting and hurty.
Watching her like this, singing, losing herself, even though we're watching, makes me feel fiercely proud. Her voice is perfect and sweet, not like anything I listen to usually, and her expression as she sings makes me feel the meaning more. Lee's heard her before, but the people who haven't are all stunned, hypnotized. Not that Kaz has noticed. She likes to sing with her eyes closed or at the very least concentrated on the floor.
Which means she can't see me look over at Tom, watching him watching her.
The look on his face differs from everyone else's. There's no surprise there, no growing admiration. He looks proud and sad and hungry, as if Kaz is a feast he helped prepare but hasn't been invited to join.
I don't look away when he glances over at me. Instead I think of all the times I listened to Kaz cry, rather than sing, as if I can transfer the memories from my head to his. He knows he should not be here and yet there he is, sitting right in Kaz's eyeline, collar popped on his s.h.i.+rt, healthy-outdoorsy tan at full peak, a clean-living and clean-shaven tick list of all the things Kaz wants in a boy.
When the song draws to a close, Lee leaps up to give a standing ovation and Parvati and Dongle join him. Anna and Owen slap her on the back and tell her she's amazing. Even new-girl Stella is clapping like she means it. Only Tom and me remain undisturbed amidst all the movement me still watching him watching her.
8 * TOXIC
KAZ.
After five songs, my voice starts to go. The sun's sunk below the line of trees behind me and my audience has grown. Two girls from a couple of camps over (who I can't tell apart except for the fact that one has a fringe) asked Dongle whether we had any spare firelighters. I watched as he pushed the carrier bag filled with flammable material further back under his camping chair and invited them to share our fire instead. Given that they've brought a couple of bottles of tequila that they show no qualms about sharing, no one else objects.
When I finish the song, everyone chants my name. This makes me both happy and uncomfortable, especially as some of the older people from the other camps look over. Now seems like a good time to stop and I hand the guitar to Owen, relieved to be able to adjust my position. My left foot went to sleep during the second chorus of ”Time of Your Life” and I stand up to stamp some feeling back into it.
”Encore!” Lee calls out and I shake my head.
”Time for someone else's fingers to cramp,” I say with a smile.
Lee pulls a face. ”Does that person have to be Owen?”
There's a beat in which I don't know whether I'm supposed to laugh, because even if it's a joke, it's not a funny one.
”What are you saying, Lee?” Anna asks, although I can tell that Owen wishes she hadn't.
”That this is supposed to be a singalong. Give that one a guitar and I guarantee two songs in and Owen'll start playing his own stuff.” Lee is grinning, an air of mischief about him as he points a finger at Owen. It's not a very steady finger and I wonder exactly how many of those c.o.c.ktails he's drunk.
RUBY.