Someone’s trying to hold me up. I can hear voices and smashing glass. OK, I do feel kind of grim, but I don’t care. Henry’s face swims into focus above me. He says something and looks away again. What’s the time anyway? Maybe I’ll have a sleep. My eyes are tired. My head is tired, and my heart is kind of tired too. Fucking Valentine. I hate him, seriously. Tori too. Why’s she so beautiful? I can see her again. Her face is spinning around but I want to touch it. I want to tell her that I love her but you can’t do that without wrecking everything. This best-friends shit, it’s so frustrating. Must be great kissing that arsehole. So I’ll say so.
‘What, Sinclair?’
Her voice, it sounds so soft. Soft Tori-voice. That makes no sense, does it?
‘Need to boak?’
I hope not. But I hope a lot of things. Not many of them are gonna come true, we know that much. But Tori’s fingers are warm in my hair and my head is heavy – my head is so heavy. I think she’s putting an arm around me.
Please, God, don’t let her go away.
TORI
Val’s pupils are wide and my stomach’s a tiny knot of fear. Maybe I’m paranoid, but it freaks me out when people are on drugs. With good reason, I think.
Even so, I’m out here with him, and a bunch of the upper sixth, behind the gym where there’s an unofficial second party going on. Cos the ball’s ‘lame’ and I didn’t have the courage to tell him I’d like to go back in. I’ve got a gut feeling that I need to speak to Sinclair. He looked wrecked when he saw Val kissing me. Wrecked in every sense of the word. And that’s not like him. My best friend knows I find drink hard to deal with, unlike Val,but there’s no way in hell I’m talking to him about it. My reasons for hating alcohol and drugs are nothing to do with Val, let alone his family.
Someone’s got a Bluetooth speaker blaring aggressive rap. Val didn’t kiss me again. He’s talking to his friends now. I don’t get most of their stories. So I smile and decline the booze that’s flowing here like rivers.
What even happens if you mix cocaine and alcohol? Can you do both or should I be worried that Val and the rest of them are about to have heart attacks and pass out? Mind you, they don’t look like this is the first time they’ve tried this combo. And there are some folks around who look vaguely with it. Eleanor Attenborough and her friends, for example. They’re a few feet away. I don’t dare go and join them, even though I get a feeling they might be more fun. But I don’t want to bug them, like a little kid.
Val really could be talking to me. Not exclusively to me, I don’t expect that. After all, this is the New Year Ball and he wants to have a good time with his pals. I totally get that. But, well, he could include me a bit more, not just leave me out in the cold. But on the other hand, I’m glad he doesn’t want to go off to some dark corridor with me to do stuff I’m not ready for yet. If he did, I’d tell him so, straight out. Or, at least, I think I would.
I’m wearing his jacket round my shoulders, but I’m cold. Hey, it’s January. Most of them have changed now, or else they’re wearing jackets over their ball dresses.
Maybe I should pop up to my room and put on something warmer. But if I went up there, I doubt I’d have the energy to come back down. It feels like it’s getting really late now. I glance at my phone to see the time, but then there are all these messages from Emma.
E:Where are you?
E:Tori? Are you OK? Don’t want to interrupt anything, but could you come?
T:I’m with Val and the others behind the gym. Where are you?
To my surprise, Emma’s online. She starts typing straight away.
E:Heading for the boys’ wing. Henry and Gideon are putting Sinclair to bed.
I’m feeling a bit warmer now. Or even hot.
T:Why?
E:He overdid the drink a bit . . .
T:I’m on my way.
When I look up, Val’s still with the others, doesn’t seem like he cares what I do. I should say goodbye but maybe he’d just be happy if I left him in peace now. There was that irritated tone again just now when I was with him and his pals. I don’t understand the guy. One moment everything’s great, the next the mood swings and I’ve got no clue what I’ve done wrong. He’s different when it’s just the two of us. Sometimes it seems like all he cares about is acting to his friends, especially the rugby lads, like he has no feelings at all.
My feet hurt, and I’m cursing the heels on my Louboutins as I walk down the dark path back to school. I’ll give Val his jacket back in a bit. I won’t be long, he won’t even notice I was gone, and I can grab something warmer from my room before I head back to the gym. It’s still hoachin outside the ballroom, as I head towards the east wing. My shoes keep getting stuck in the cracks between the uneven cobblestones and I groan with frustration. I hold onto a pillar under the arcades and slip off first the left shoeand then the right. The ground is freezing but right now, that’s a treat for my throbbing feet. Besides, I can walk quicker this way.
There’s no wing time tonight, at least for the older years, but it still feels out of bounds to be heading up the stairs in the boys’ wing at this time of night. There’s a light on in the lower-sixth corridor. Henry’s door is open and so’s Sinclair’s. As I come closer, Henry’s just emerging from his room with a bottle of water and a wet towel. For a moment, he looks guilty, but then he recognizes me.
‘Hey, there you are.’ He nods towards Sinclair’s room. ‘He’s pretty out of it.’
I bite back the words on the tip of my tongue as I follow Henry through the door.Why didn’t you stop him? I thought we looked out for each other.But I’m not one to talk – I didn’t stay with my friends this evening.
The room’s full of people. Emma’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed and face worried. Gideon’s crouching beside Sinclair, next to his bed, holding him by the shoulder, stopping his upper body slumping forwards. Omar’s pulling his shoes off.
I feel numb yet calm. It’s not the first time I’ve seen this, except it’s not usually my best pal I have to look after. His face is white and his eyes are half shut.
