“Hi.” He smiled.
“Hi,” I said, grumpily, hoping he would go away.
“I saw you downstairs,” Ryan said, sitting down next to me. “I know what you want.”
I stared at him. For a single, horrified second I wondered if he was hitting on me. Then I remembered seeing him earlier, dancing with the short, pretty brunette who’d just blown me off.
This didn’t make me feel any better.
“What are you talking about?”
Ryan lowered his voice, so I could only just hear him above the thump of the music. “Eve. Eve Ripley, the new girl in your sister’s class.”
I shrugged. “Dunno what you mean.”
“Yeah, right,” Ryan’s smile broadened.“It’s written all over your face. Like I said, man. I was watching you downstairs.”
Crap. I glared at him. “Why don’t you piss off?”
Ryan appeared to take this as an invitation to stretch out his legs. We sat in silence, watching a girl in a pair of high-heeled boots tottering towards us up the stairs. As she pushed her way past, she giggled.
“Hi, Ry,” she said. “See you later?”
Ryan grinned up at her. “Maybe.”
The girl giggled again and stumbled off towards the bathroom.
I leaned forwards, intending to get up and go and shut myself in my bedroom.
“Hey.” Ryan’s hand on my shoulder pulled me back. “Don’t you wanna know how I can help you get her?” he said. “Eve, I mean.”
“No,” I snapped, shaking off his hand. “Funnily enough, I’m not in the mood for a humiliating wind-up.”
“OK.” He shrugged. “Your choice. But it’s not a wind-up. It really works.”
I frowned, curious in spite of myself. “What works?”
Ryan gave me a lazy, lopsided grin. “The Six Steps. They’re these steps you gotta follow. Get you any girl you want.”
“What?” I said.
“Six Steps, man. Like a list of things you’ve got to do.”
He had to be kidding me.
“What d’you mean?”
But Ryan was looking down the stairs again, waving.
A girl in a short skirt with a tumble of red curls was standing on the bottom step, smiling up at us. She was strikingly pretty. Not like Eve, of course. But still . . .
The girl waved, then tapped her watch. Ryan stood up. “Look, man, I gotta leave now. I’ll tell you about the Six Steps later, OK?”
I looked up. Ryan’s face was open, his eyes serious. Something told me that he meant what he was saying. That, for some reason, he really wanted to help me.
“I don’t—?”
“I’ll talk to you Monday – explain it all then.”
“Right,” I said, sinking back against the banisters, determined to look uninterested. “Whatever.”
Ryan grinned, then he slipped down the stairs and took the girl’s hand. I watched them weave their way towards the front door.
The music was even louder now. The bass pounded up through the floorboards, vibrating against my feet. I got up and wandered across to the landing window that looked over the front of the house.
Ryan and the girl were disappearing up the road. As they reached the corner Ryan stopped and pulled her into this massive snog.
I leaned my forehead against the cold window pane. Ryan wasn’t any older or better-looking than me. And yet he had girl after girl practically throwing themselves at him. What did he know that I didn’t?
I kicked the wall at my foot.
Without looking up from the girl, Ryan lifted one arm and waved lazily back at the house.
5
First steps
’Cause I’m gonna make you see
There’s nobody else here.
No one like me.
I’m special . . . so special.
I gotta have some of your attention.
Give it to me.
‘Brass In Pocket’
Pretenders
The living room was a total mess. Torn plastic cups, overflowing ashtrays and empty beer cans lay everywhere. All Mum’s CDs were on the floor. Three cushions were ripped and there were several dark stains on the sofas and carpet.
“After everything your mum’s been through this year,” Uncle Matt roared. “All she wanted was a little time to herself. And now she’s got to come home to this.”
“We’ll clear up in the morning,” Chloe slurred.
She looked totally wrecked. Her make-up was all smeared and her tight top was twisted so far round that it was almost back to front.
“No way, madam,” Uncle Matt snapped. “You’re clearing up now.”
It was one a.m. Shortly after Ryan had left, the police had turned up, investigating complaints about noise from the neighbours. When they realised how young Chloe was they turned off the music and made everyone leave.
They wanted to call Mum, but Chloe begged them not to. In the end they compromised on Uncle Matt, after we explained he was the family friend who’d been left in charge while Mum was away. Matt turned up shortly afterwards – furious with both of us.
He made us work until three a.m. My job was to go round the house getting all the wine and beer stains off the floor and furniture. I used a whole bottle of stain remover, pretending each dirty mark that I scrubbed was Ben’s face. What a jerk. I couldn’t get the image of him groping Eve on Dad’s armchair out of my head. What the hell did she see in him?
Matt let us sleep until seven, then woke us again so we could open all the windows and vacuum before Mum got home. I can’t tell you how annoying it was to have him bossing us around in our own house, but we kept our mouths shut – hoping that, if we did everything he told us, he wouldn’t tell Mum what had happened.
I don’t know what fantasy land we were living in.
To be fair, Matt played down the whole thing in terms of how trashed the house had been. But for Mum, the very fact that we’d lied to her was the worst thing.
“I’m so disappointed in you both,” she said. “And Dad would’ve been too.”
I’d rather she’d shouted at us.
In the end, Chloe was grounded for a month for organising the party and I was grounded for a week for not grassing her up. Neither of us thought this was particularly fair, and the rest of the weekend passed in an atmosphere of slammed doors and long, dark silences.
I didn’t see Eve on Monday. But Ryan sauntered up to me while I was choosing a lunchtime sandwich in the school cafeteria.
“So,” he said, balancing his tray in one hand. “Six Steps. You interested?”
I glanced round. No one else was within earshot.
“I don’t get it,” I hissed. “Why d’you want to help me?”
“Lots of reasons.” Ryan shrugged. “I told you. I’ve been there. Planet Hopeless. I just want to help.”
I stared at him, still unconvinced.
“Look, man. I promise you I am not winding you up. Let’s meet after school. I’ll prove it.”
“Can’t. I’m grounded.” I wasn’t sure whether I felt more relieved or disappointed.
Ryan didn’t look surprised. “We’ll come to you, then,” he said.
“We?” I said. “Who’s ‘we’?”
But Ryan had already darted off into the crowds.
I felt anxious for the rest of the day. What was Ryan planning? Who was he going to bring with him? I wished I’d told him to piss off, straight out, when I’d had the chance.
He turned up about an hour after Chloe and I got home from school. My stomach twisted uncomfortably as I opened the door.
Ryan was with two other boys from his class. A skinny, red-haired geek with glasses known – for some reason – as Numbers, and a lumbering, acne-ridden giant called Tony. They didn’t look like the sort of people Ryan usually hung out with.
“Hi Luke,” Ryan said cheerily. “I brought a couple of mates with me. Hope that’s OK. These two already know about the Six Steps. Numbers is here to boast. Tones is here
’cause I asked him and he owes me.”
I could feel my face reddening. He hadn’t said anything to them about me and Eve, had he? “I don’t—”
“Don’t worry – they don’t know any details,” Ryan said. “So, can we come in?”
Part of me wanted to shut the door in his face. But, though I hated to admit it, I was curious. I decided I’d listen to whatever Ryan’s six stupid steps were – then chuck him and his loser friends out.
“OK,” I said. “But I haven’t got much time.”
I led them into the living room. Ryan immediately sprawled across one of the sofas. “The first thing you should know,” he said, “is that I know what I’m talking about. I’ve had more hot girls than anyone else in our year.”
“Except me,” Numbers said proudly.
I stared at him. Numbers was, frankly, scrawny. And he looked about eleven. There was no way he’d ever even held hands with a girl.
“I don’t think so.” Ryan turned to me. “Unlike Numbers here, I go for quality as well as quantity. Premiership babes only, like Kelly Simmonds and Jade Aziki.”
My mouth fell open. Kelly and Jade were the best-looking girls in Ryan’s class. No one I knew had come close to even getting a snog off them.
“Look.” Ryan produced a mobile from his pocket. He handed it to me. “Look at numbers six through to fifteen.”
I clicked through the pictures. There was Ryan with his arms round a succession of girls. Not just Jade and Kelly, but all sorts of others too. Most of them not even at our school.
“It’s sort of my business catalogue,” Ryan said, modestly.
“This doesn’t prove anything,” I said, though privately I was impressed.
“I’ve snogged seventy-six girls since November third,” Numbers smirked.
“All thanks to the Six Steps,” Ryan added.
“ ’S true,” grunted Tony from Dad’s armchair. “I done all the Steps except the last one. ’S changed my life.”
I stared at him. Tony’s face was like a pizza, so covered in spots there was hardly any clear skin visible underneath. If Ryan’s stupid plan could help Tony get a girl, maybe there was something in it.
“Numbers. Tones,” Ryan said briskly. “Give us a few minutes, would you?”
They went out of the room. Ryan leaned forwards, all serious. “OK, those guys couldn’t pull Eve Ripley if they were the last males on earth. But you can, if you listen to me. Now, the first thing I need is a history,” he said. “Who’ve you been out with? How long did it last? How far did you get?”
“I’m not telling you that.” I could feel myself going red. With anyone else I’d just have exaggerated my experiences. Enjoyed doing it, in fact. But something told me Ryan would know if I lied.
Ryan sighed. “If you’re not prepared to be open with me, I can’t help you.”
My temper rose. “Who says I want your help? Coming here with your freak-show friends. I’m doing fine by myself.”
Ryan leaned back on the sofa. He looked neither upset nor angry at my outburst. After a few moments he shook his head sorrowfully. “You really like her, don’t you?”
The way he looked at me, it was like he could see right inside my head.
“Face it, man,” Ryan said. “At the moment you don’t stand a chance. Eve Ripley’s total Premiership. Top of the Premiership, in fact. And she’s already got a boyfriend.”
“Yeah,” I muttered. “Dunno what she sees in him.”
“Well, Ben’s a football star.” Ryan pursed his lips, thoughtfully. “Plus he’s older than she is, he’s tall and good-looking and all her friends fancy him.”
“Right.” I looked down at the carpet.
“I saw you with that short brunette at your party an’ I gotta tell you, your technique totally sucks. But I reckon with a bit of training you’d be fine. So, stop making out you can do all this alone, and spill.”
There was a long pause.
In spite of my irritation there was something about Ryan I liked. He was so direct and he was offering to help me, apparently just because he felt sorry for me. But there was still no way I was going to humiliate myself by telling him the truth about what I suspected was, compared to his, a pretty limited set of experiences.
Ryan sighed again. “OK, let me guess,” he said. “The longest you’ve ever been out with someone is three weeks. You’ve got off with, say, between twenty and thirty girls – none of them Premiership. And you’ve never gone the whole way. Am I right?”
I stared at him. “Way off,” I lied.
“Yeah, right.” Ryan grinned. “This is gonna work, man. I’ve got a good feeling about it.”
He went to the door and called Tones and Numbers back in. “You don’t mind, do you?” he said. “They could probably both do with a refresher, not that Numbers would ever admit it.”
I winced. If anyone at school found out I’d been taking dating tips in some kind of girly group session . . .
“I don’t know,” I said.
“Will you chill?” Ryan sounded exasperated. “Don’t you think that if either of them were going to say anything to anyone, they’d have already told on each other?”
I shrugged uneasily, as Numbers and Tones came in and sat down.
“Step One,” Ryan said. “Look good – Feel good.”
I stared at him. “What?”
“The first thing you need is confidence,” Ryan said. “And the easiest part of confidence is making the most of how you look. Tell me, what did you do to get ready for the party?”
I told him.
Tones gave a low chuckle.
“You should’ve ironed the shirt,” Ryan said. “You looked a mess. And not in a good way.”
“What? No one’s gonna notice if my shirt’s all neat and stuff.”
“Maybe not, but they’ll notice if you look like an old tramp. And you need a haircut too. Something shorter. It’s all gotta look like you take a pride in your appearance, but you aren’t obsessed with it. Also, more washing and clean clothes and less deodorant. You don’t want to overdo anything – especially deodorant and hair gel. But washing’s cool.”
“I do wash.” I glared at him.
“Sure,” Ryan said. “I’m just saying. To be honest I don’t think you’ve got any problems. Is there anything you’d like to change about your appearance? Like being taller, for instance?”
I thought about Eve’s hulking boyfriend. “Maybe.” I shrugged.
Numbers snorted. “Join the club.”
“You’re taller than she is, aren’t you?” Ryan said.
I nodded. I was, by a few centimetres. But Ben was a whole head and a half taller than me.
“Well, then,” Ryan went on. “You don’t need to worry. And even if you weren’t taller there are ways round it. Ask Numbers.”
Numbers grinned. “Ry told me to only ever chat birds up sitting down. Works like a dream. Once they’ve experienced the Numbers magic touch they don’t care how tall I am.”
I smiled weakly at him.
“OK. Step Two,” Ryan said. “Noticing. Get her to notice you. Then make sure she knows you’ve noticed her.”
“How?” I said, meaning: how, without making a total tit of myself like I did last time?
“Get her on her own. Show her that you’re interested in something she’s interested in. Girls love that sensitive stuff. But don’t go all gushy and girly about it. Just be friendly.”
“How do I find out what she’s interested in without talking to her?”
Ryan rolled his eyes. “Look on the noticeboards at school. See if she’s signed up for any after-school stuff. Ask your sister. But be subtle. You’ve gotta make it clear to her you’re interested, but still look cool.”
“I was stuck on that for weeks,” Tones said glumly. “Ry made me practice on about fifty girls before he said I was ready for . . . for her . . .”
I wondered who the object of Tones’s desire was and how he had possibly managed to get anywhere nea
r her.
“Let’s practise,” Ryan said. “Look at me like you’re interested.”
“What?” I said. “No way.”
Ryan tutted. “Don’t be so uptight, man. This is where most guys fall down. They either get stuck on being friends or they go way over the top and frighten the girl off. It’s important.”
“Why do I have to do some stupid ‘look’? Can’t I just go up to her and ask her out?” I said.
“No,” Ryan said. “It’s gotta be a look first, or you’ve blown it before you’ve begun. Come on. Numbers cracked this first time.”
Stung, I tried to look at him as if I fancied him. It was impossible. Ryan was studying my face intently, like I was a bug under a microscope. “Give me more,” he said.
“Jesus,” I muttered. I tried to pretend I was looking at Eve and telling her with my eyes how much I liked her.
“Whoa.” Ryan drew back in mock-horror. “Psycho alert. If you look at her like that she’ll think you’re some kind of stalker.”
I felt my whole face flush with humiliation. “Well you do it if you’re so bloody clever,” I said.
Ryan cocked his head on one side. “OK” He darted out of the living room, then reappeared about a minute later, Chloe’s school bag in his hand. “She’s looking for her homework,” he grinned. “Should be in in a moment.”
I glared at him. “You’re not practising on my sister.”
“Chill,” Ryan said. “It’s only a look, remember?”
I sat there, feeling uneasy. A few minutes later Chloe barged into the living room. She saw her bag where Ryan had put it, on the table in the corner, and stomped towards it. “What the hell is this doing here?” she muttered.
As she reached the table, Ryan sprang up and sauntered towards her. “Hi,” he said. “Chloe, isn’t it?”
Chloe glanced at him. I grinned. She was clearly in a foul mood. And the way she looked at Ryan was exactly the same as the way Eve had looked at me – a sort of looking through you, like you weren’t really there.