The strobe lights flit over his face, and I feel like I’m kicking a puppy. It’s not his fault. He’s a cute guy, seems nice, always complimentary. There’s nothing wrong with him, per se. He just can’t fill that hole in myheart. That little slice of me that is waiting for the boy with the dirty knees to come back as a grown man.
I know it’s crazy. He’d never spoken to me. Never even shared his name, if he had one. Just one summer of quiet friendship. One summer of seeing outside of my petted bubble for the first time. Darren wouldn’t understand. No one would.
So I give the only parts of me that I can. The fun. The flesh. And wait for the day when I lose hope for a boy whom I barely knew.
Ellie, thankfully, chooses that moment to barrel over in a fit of giggles and smeared lipstick and grabs my hand. ‘I need food!’
Before Darren can protest, we’re tumbling out onto the street amongst the late-night party-goers. A quick stop in the kebab shop has us heading home with dodgy-looking meat slathered in chilli and mayo, and some swaying steps.
‘You’re going to have to let him lock you down eventually,’ Ellie says through a mouthful of pitta.
‘It’s just a bit of fun.’
‘He likes you a lot. Every time I see him on campus, he pesters me for info on you.’ Ellie bumps my hip with hers as I walk. ‘He’s hot. He’ll happily chow until you wet his face, what more do you want?’
To fill the boy-shaped hole in my soul. To know what happened to him. Stuffing my fork into my food, I lift my fingers to the heart-shaped rock I wear on acord around my neck. A gift from him. The dark-haired, dark-eyed, dirty-kneed, bruised boy whom I’d taken under my wing. I’d treated him more like one of my dolls than a living, breathing kid, but he’d never minded. His silence was calm and curious, but I was used to filling the woods with my sole chatter anyway.
We’d been like glue together for weeks. Until that terrible day. Then he disappeared as quickly as he’d appeared. For months, I pleaded with Nanny and my parents about him. My role was to be seen and not heard. To be good.
Always so sweet and good.
‘Earth to Kat,’ Ellie says, giving me a harder bump that sends a sea of lettuce onto the pavement.
‘Oi!’
‘If you don’t want him, you can always loan him to me for the night.’ Ellie wiggles her brows.
‘He’s not your type.’
‘Listen, sometimes you get to a point where you’ll expand your type to anything with a hard cock and half an ounce of stamina.’
I laugh before stuffing another mouthful of the highly spiced, salty lamb into my mouth. We head around the side of the betting shop, down the bricked alley that leads to our ground-floor flat. My parents would shit a brick if they saw the area I live in. They believe they are paying for a plush, upmarket apartment for Ellie and me; little do they know I’m paying one-third of the costs and saving up for a rainy day. Pissing their money up the wall is fun, but having a nest egg I can dip into without having to petition them until I can graduate and get a job — priceless.
So the flat is cramped, and a bit dingy, and I get a view of a brick wall from my bedroom window, but I love it. Ellie and I have it stuffed with drapes and pillows, like a cosy nest. We have stacks of wine and a fancy coffee machine. Our little escape from the other university students.
The citrus smell of Ellie’s favourite kitchen spray hits us as we walk in. I put my takeout on the side and go back for the letter I stepped over on the way in. It’s far too late for the postie to have been.
The envelope is thick. Expensive feeling. I turn it over as Ellie kicks off her heels and drops her backside into the sofa, sinking into the cushion pile.
‘What’s that?’ she asks, before popping a slice of pepper in her mouth.
‘I’m not sure.’
My name is written on the front, all in capital letters, in deep red ink.
Katherine.
My full name. Only my parents use it. And some professors.
A twist of anxiety threads through my stomach. Nostamp. Someone brought it here. But who? Not Ellie, she’s been with me all night. I’ve never taken anyone else here. We only moved in a little while ago, transferring over from university halls.
I tug open the envelope and pull out a single, plain piece of cream card with five words scratched onto it. Words that make my intestines cramp.
I know what you did.
Swallowing hard, the card trembles in my fingers.
‘You okay, babe?’ Ellie asks, her eyes already drooping as she relaxes back into the seat.
