Page 6 of Out of Tune


  I laugh. ‘I’m not even ready yet.’

  ‘What’s your point?’

  I giggle again, and kiss him quickly. ‘Five minutes, okay? Then I’ll be ready to go.’

  ‘All right,’ he sighs, stepping back and throwing himself on the bed, turning off the music I had playing before flipping through TV channels and settling on an episode of Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. I finish my hair, and smooth out the skirt of my dress. It’s navy, with a white peter-pan collar and a white bow on the sash around my waist. I got it a few weeks ago when I went shopping with my mom.

  ‘Is that new?’ Josh asks, of the dress.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘It’s nice. You look gorgeous, Ashley.’

  I smile, feeling warm inside. ‘Thanks.’ I lean into the mirror to top up my mascara and then pick up my shoes. ‘Ready to go?’

  ‘Wait till the commercial break,’ he says. ‘There’s no rush.’

  He pats the space on the bed next to him, and, still smiling, I lie down beside him, my head cushioned by his arm that wraps around my shoulder. We don’t talk, we just watch the show, and I half wish we could stay here like this all night, and that we didn’t have to go to the party. Every so often, he kisses my cheek or my forehead, and occasionally I turn my head to kiss him back. ‘I love you,’ I murmur.

  ‘I love you, too.’

  The show cuts to commercial and we stand up, and call goodbye to my parents as we leave. I’m driving tonight, since we decided it was my turn, and I don’t mind staying sober too much at these parties, whereas I know Josh likes to have a beer with everyone else.

  It doesn’t take very long to get to Hunter’s house, maybe fifteen minutes at the most. It’s nine-fifteen, so I have to park a street away since most people are already here now. His house is pretty big, and I quickly see that this party, like the ones he threw over summer, is no small event.

  There are people on the front lawn, and people around the back, and the house is completely full, with people sitting on the stairs and kitchen worktops and coffee tables. The music pounds through the house, filling my body with an adrenalin rush.

  ‘There they are.’ Josh has to shout to me because the music is so loud. I let him tug me off in the direction of our friends. Naomi has her arm around Sam’s waist, her head on his shoulder, giggling to herself between hiccups, and Eliza looks spaced out, swaying on her feet.

  ‘Hey.’ They greet us with nods and hellos.

  ‘Where’s Danielle?’ I ask.

  ‘Last I saw her she was making out with Neil?’ Eliza tells me, looking at me with wide, blank eyes that aren’t focused on me at all.

  ‘Again?’ I roll my eyes. Neil and Danielle are always making out at parties. But whenever anyone suggests that they actually date rather than play the whole friends-with-benefits game, they look scandalized, like, how could we ever suggest that, they’re friends for God’s sake, jeez.

  I’m listening to snatches of conversation going on around me, when I realize just what Josh, Sam and Austin are talking about.

  ‘What movie is that?’ I ask, though I already have a good idea.

  ‘That new Marvel movie,’ Austin says.

  I turn an accusing glance on my boyfriend. ‘You mean that one we were going to go see together, and I had to cancel because we were having dinner with Todd and his dad?’

  He sniffs, and looks away. ‘We went to see it yesterday.’

  ‘So when you told me that you were hanging out with the guys, you went to see the movie we planned on seeing? You didn’t think to tell me?’

  ‘I figured we could see it together anyway.’

  I shake my head. It’s not even worth arguing with him over it. I’m just put out that he didn’t bother to tell me about it. I mean, what else doesn’t he tell me.

  ‘I’m going to go talk to some of the football guys for a sec,’ Josh announces, though I get the feeling he wants to go before I have chance to argue with him any more. He squeezes my arm. ‘Catch you in a bit.’

  And he disappears, weaving through the crowds, and calling out to someone. I turn back to the others. Danielle and Neil show up not long after and Naomi starts gushing to me about the almost-fight earlier because this guy from Kingsley High made out with Shauna, who everyone knows is only ‘on a break’ with that guy in Naomi’s algebra class . . .

  Someone taps my arm, making me look around. I know it’s not Josh.

  Todd gives me a hesitant smile. ‘Hello.’

  ‘Hello,’ I reply. ‘Having fun?’

  ‘Oh my God?’ I hear Eliza say behind me, and Naomi adds, ‘Totally.’

  ‘Sure, it’s a good party. You?’

  ‘I only just got here a little while ago,’ I say.

  He nods. ‘Um. You look pretty.’

  I’m taken aback by the compliment. ‘Oh, well . . . thanks.’

  ‘The dress suits your red hair very well.’

  ‘It. Is. Not. Red!’

  ‘In fact . . .’ He scrunches his face critically at me. ‘I’d even say it was ginger.’

  I shove his shoulder, scowling, but when he tries to bite back a grin and repress a laugh I find myself fighting off a smile as well.

  ‘Goodbye, Todd.’ I turn my back on him and listen to Austin telling Neil and Sam some joke. Naomi leans forward from Sam, stumbling into me, and grabs at Todd over my shoulder before he can get away. Poor guy. He should’ve left while he had the chance.

  ‘I don’t think we’ve met,’ she says, sounding far less drunk than she is. Her sister is twenty-two, and she’ll always buy us alcohol for parties if we ask her. She stands up from leaning against me and tosses her hair over her shoulder. ‘I’m Naomi. You’re Todd, right?’

  Half of me wants to get out of there, but I don’t – the option of staying and seeing him flounder as Naomi makes a move on him is too funny to pass up.

  ‘Y-yeah,’ he stammers. ‘Nice to meet you.’

  ‘You haven’t got a drink,’ she says. ‘Come on, we’ll go get you something.’

  And she puts her hands on Todd’s shoulders and steers him away toward the kitchen, not even tottering a little bit in her heels. If nothing else, I have to admit that Naomi is tough, managing to walk in those three-inch stilettos all night without complaining, or toppling, once. Lesser women would cry. I know I would.

  Todd glances back to me with one thing written clearly all over his face: Help!

  Soon enough, Josh finds me when I’m hanging with Austin and Neil who are playing pool with a few other guys. Eliza’s somewhere in the lounge dancing, and Naomi . . . well, she’s probably trying to make out with Todd. I’m not sure how that’s going; not sure I want to know.

  Josh’s arm slips around my waist from nowhere, making me jump and spill some of my soda on the floor. I don’t turn in to his kiss, letting him just kiss my cheek instead. I’m still annoyed that he didn’t tell me he went to see the movie.

  Okay, so it’s just a movie, and it’s not a big deal. It’s just that he didn’t tell me about it, and after he gave me the cold shoulder for about a day when I cancelled on him like it was a huge deal.

  ‘Hey, again,’ I say casually. ‘How were the guys?’

  He shrugs vaguely. ‘All right.’ He takes another gulp of his beer, emptying the can.

  ‘How much have you had?’ I ask, curious, wondering if that’s his second or third.

  ‘Three,’ he tells me, setting the empty can on a cabinet. Then he draws me in close and kisses me deeply. He pulls away first. ‘Why don’t we go dance?’

  ‘Sure,’ I reply, and he smiles, walking with me to the lounge where a writhing tangle of sweaty bodies moves to the music blasting from the speakers.

  I love the atmosphere at parties – everyone having a good time, laughing and dancing and talking and occasionally making out. And one of the good parts is, if you ever embarrass yourself, you can just pretend that you were drunk and don’t remember. At least, that’s what Naomi and the others always say.

 
I briefly wonder what happened to Todd and Naomi – but again, I’m not sure I really want to think about it.

  Josh’s lips find mine and I hook my arms around his broad shoulders, losing myself in his kiss, his touch; for a moment, I forget where we are, caught up in the excitement of the party.

  Someone bumps into me from behind and yells, ‘Sorry!’ which makes me remember where I am, and I pull back slightly from Josh’s kisses. He slips a hand quickly to pinch my butt and then back onto my hip. He looks away innocently, before laughing and kissing the end of my nose, making me smile.

  ‘Sorry,’ he says, a twinkle in his green eyes. ‘Guess I just can’t keep my hands off you.’

  I roll my eyes and go up on my toes to kiss him. At six foot one, he’s five inches taller than me, and he’s built like a boulder – or so I tease him – so he makes me feel small in comparison, even when I’m used to being taller than a lot of the girls at school. It’s a nice sort of feeling though.

  After a while, when Josh is talking to some of the guys in his gym class, I head out to the back yard, where I find Eliza, Austin and a couple of other people. Austin and one of the girls – Charlotte – are holding roll-up cigarettes; they’re passing them between each other, taking long, labored drags before letting the smoke ease out. They wave me over, and when I’m a couple of feet away, the smell hits me. I don’t even want to ask where they got them from.

  I cough a little, and wave a hand in front of my face.

  ‘Hey, there you are,’ Eliza says. She takes another drag as one of them is passed to her, and then holds it out to me. ‘Want some?’

  ‘Uh, no – no thanks,’ I stammer, wondering if I can just back away quickly before the smoke clings to my clothes and makes my hair smell. Although I think it’s probably already too late for that.

  She shrugs. ‘Suit yourself.’

  Austin pipes up then, saying, ‘C’mon, Ashley, I bet you’ve never even tried it.’

  I frown. ‘I don’t plan to, either.’

  Turning away on my heel, I go swiftly back into the house. I ignore the one shout of ‘Prude!’ from one of the girls in the circle. I make straight for the bathroom, wanting to go freshen up somehow – maybe find some perfume, or air freshener even, to mask the smell of cigarette smoke that’s undoubtedly attached to my clothes now. It’s so disgusting. And I don’t want my parents to think I was the one smoking.

  I should be surprised at them, but I’m really not.

  I have to step around people on the staircase up to the bathroom. There are a couple of people waiting in front of me to use it though, and I sigh, leaning against the wall behind them. Now I’m here, I realize I need to pee anyway.

  ‘Boo.’

  I turn to the person walking up behind me. It’s Todd, and I grin at him. ‘Hey.’

  ‘Hey yourself.’ He sniffs, scrunches his face up, then leans in to sniff around my neck and shoulders. When he stands back up straight, his eyebrows are raised skeptically. ‘I never took you for someone who smokes.’

  I jut my chin out stubbornly. ‘I don’t. I made the mistake of standing around some people who did, though.’

  ‘Oh. Sorry. My bad.’

  He rubs the back of his neck uncomfortably, like he’s ashamed for having not just asked and made it sound like he was judging me. Wanting to lighten things up a little, I ask with a mischievous smile, ‘Where’s Naomi?’

  He clears his throat. ‘I managed to detach myself from her about an hour ago.’ He smiles wryly. ‘After making it explicitly clear that I was a) not interested, and b) not kissing her anyway.’

  ‘Break the girl’s heart, why don’t you?’

  He gives a breath of laughter. ‘She’s . . . very determined. Confident.’

  My laugh is abrupt and loud enough for a few people to shoot me a strange look. ‘That’s a nice way of putting it.’

  ‘You and Josh really don’t have much of a problem with PDA, do you?’

  The question catches me off-guard. He says it in a composed, off-hand tone, looking at the people walking past us instead of me, as though it were more of a statement than a question. My eyebrows pull together of their own accord, and instead of moving up the queue as someone leaves the bathroom, I turn to stare at him.

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  He sighs. ‘Nothing. Look, forget it. I didn’t mean anything by it.’

  ‘No, tell me.’ My voice sounds harsher than I intended, but I don’t care. ‘What did you mean by that?’

  He doesn’t answer.

  ‘Todd.’ I sound pissed as hell now, and a couple of heads turn again, but I’m past caring. I just want to know what he meant by that comment.

  ‘Forget it.’ He starts to walk off. ‘I’ll see you Monday.’

  I ignore my bladder and march after him, grabbing his arm. ‘Todd, tell me. I’m not going to let it drop.’

  With a huff, he stops in his tracks, so suddenly that I walk right into him.

  He turns and looks me dead in the eye. ‘I just meant that maybe next time you should think about going somewhere a little more private if you’re going to get so handsy.’

  ‘I was not—’

  ‘No, but he was.’

  ‘He was not!’ I burst out, but I try and think back and wonder if he was. ‘Besides, you’ve got no right to—’

  ‘I’ll see you Monday, Ashley.’ And he marches down the stairs and around the corner. I bounce on the balls of my feet agitatedly, torn between following him and dashing back to the bathroom – I do not want to let him win this argument – but my bladder wins out, and I let out a noise of frustration. After that, I try to enjoy the rest of the party and not think about it.

  But when I’m lying curled up in bed later that night back at home, I scowl at the shadows on my walls, wondering what the hell Todd meant by all that, and what the hell it has to do with him what I do with my boyfriend anyway.

  Chapter Seven

  Todd and I don’t speak on Monday morning. I’m still a little mad about what he said at the party, even though it feels childish to sulk about it.

  He’s returned to giving off the aloof, brooding impression I first had of him. He stares out of the window the whole time, mouth pressed in a tight line. I almost want to say something to him – not necessarily about our argument, but just a ‘So how was your weekend?’ but I don’t.

  Two can play at this game.

  If he’s going to be stubborn and not talk to me, then I will be, too.

  It’s my turn to drive this week though, and my mom told me I was not allowed to cancel on Todd.

  ‘It’s stupid. You had a little argument over nothing and it’ll blow over,’ she said. ‘He lives next door, Ashley, it’s stupid not to carpool.’

  ‘Mom, you don’t get it,’ I sighed, but she was going on again before I could say anything else. And I wasn’t about to explain why I was so mad, because I wasn’t entirely sure any more myself.

  ‘Ashley. Don’t be so silly and stubborn. Drive the guy to school. Don’t make me ground you.’

  By that point, I wanted to tear my hair out and just go to bed already without any hassle – Mom was already annoyed because I’d missed my curfew and got home late from the party. So I threw my hands in the air and yelled, ‘Fine!’ and stormed up to my room. And I didn’t cancel on Todd.

  Wednesday, I’m contemplating how best to cut my next class, Creative Writing. The car rides with Todd have been insufferable. He looks at me sometimes and there’s something in his expression – maybe confusion, or pity – that makes me want to snap at him. I don’t want to spend the next class with him. I really don’t want to.

  But I don’t do that kind of thing; I don’t cut class, I don’t get detentions, I don’t do anything to make myself stand out too much.

  So I go to class and slip silently into my seat next to him and keep my eyes trained on the pen marks on the desk. Todd, for his part, is pretending not to acknowledge my presence.

  After Ms Langs
tone sets us work, a hum of chatter consumes the room and people start to take out their pens to look productive.

  I can’t help but steal a glance at Todd, who’s tapping his pen in an erratic rhythm on his blue book.

  ‘Something you’re working on? The tapping, I mean.’ I clamp my mouth shut as soon as the words are out, and twist my head away, letting my hair fall between us. So much for not talking to him . . .

  I half expect him to not reply.

  ‘Yeah. Just something I started writing the other night.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Yeah,’ he says again, then looks away and bites his lip. There’s a pause. ‘So we’re talking again now?’

  I don’t answer at first. I feel so stupid for not talking to him all week, but after our silent car ride to school on Monday morning, I felt like it was too late to give in and apologize, and admit I’d been stupid. Feeling humiliated with myself, I mumble, ‘I suppose.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he says. ‘For being rude to you at the party. I should’ve just kept my mouth shut. It wasn’t my place.’

  ‘Damn right it wasn’t.’

  It had been lucky that the people who had been around to see that we’d had an argument (even just a little one) had been too drunk to remember anything about it, or at least, hadn’t thought it important enough to gossip about.

  Todd pulls his iPod out of his rucksack and, after stealing a glance at Ms Langstone, who is marking papers, he puts an earphone in and presses play. I look at the artwork that comes up on the iPod screen out of curiosity – it’s Green Day – and then he hands me the other earphone. I smile, and take it.

  We get away with that because we’re hidden from sight back here, mostly. The school has a strict policy (at least, most of the time) on no cellphones and no listening to music during class, so I feel like I’m doing something daring and breaking the rules – something I never do.

  Later that evening, Josh and I sit on my bed. I’ve pushed my stacks of books out of the way underneath my bed so that my room doesn’t look so messy.

  We sit cross-legged facing each other, and Josh has plugged his iPod into my docking station; some of his favorite rap songs are playing. I’m looking through college brochures, and even though Josh has one on his lap, he hasn’t so much as opened it.