Always MacKenzie

  ‘Did he say that?’ said Iris. ‘He didn’t say that.’

  I said, ‘Come on.’

  And we all linked arms, just like we would have done when we were in Year 7, and we marched, the three of us, side by side, through the crowd.

  september

  ‘What happened to you? Where have you been?’ I sat up on the bed and closed my book as Georgia slipped into our hotel room.

  ‘Chill out, it’s okay.’ She plumped down on the other bed. ‘We were on the other bus, that’s all.’

  ‘We? You and Rosie Lee?’

  ‘Of course me and Rosie.’ She jumped up again and circled the room, picking things up at random and putting them down.

  ‘Does anyone else know about Rosie?’

  ‘About—?’ Georgia mimed sticking her finger in her throat. ‘I dunno, I don’t think so.’ A shy, almost proud expression came over her face. ‘I think she’s only told me. I know she hasn’t told Mackenzie.’

  ‘So it’s your secret?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  I was silent. That was a pretty big secret. I could almost understand how the privilege of holding a secret like that, being the trusted one, the only, could seem like the most important thing in the world. Mackenzie admitting she wanted to be a cook was nothing compared to that.

  I pushed the memory away. That was irrelevant now. Since then, Mackenzie had invented a secret that didn’t exist, and spread it round the whole school. When I thought about that, my throat felt like it was closing up.

  I forced myself to focus on the matter at hand. ‘So she’s not getting any help? She hasn’t told Ms Wells?’

  Georgia shook her head. ‘She thinks Ms Wells is an idiot . . .’ Suddenly she looked alarmed. ‘Jem, you won’t tell Ms Wells, will you?’

  ‘Do you think I would, after last time?’

  There was a silence in the room.

  ‘I guess not,’ said Georgia awkwardly.

  ‘But someone should tell someone.’ I shifted on the bed. ‘Georgia, if no one else knows . . . Rosie told me today, she didn’t have to. Maybe she wants us to tell, to try and get help – maybe she can’t do it herself . . . And she knows I’m the kind of interfering, do-gooding, know-all type who would run and dob.’

  Georgia was horrified. ‘Oh, no, Jem, you can’t. You can’t do that. Rosie would never forgive me.’

  I flopped backward. ‘All right, I give up. Let’s just sit around and watch Rosie vomit herself to death. I don’t give a fig what happens to her.’

  And it was true, on one level I didn’t care what happened to Rosie. She was a first-class, prize-winning, show-stopping viper-cow. But I also knew I wouldn’t be able to let it go that easily; it was going to nag at me till I did something. And I wonder, now, if Rosie knew that too. Whether I liked it or not, I seemed to have turned into the kind of person who did things.

  Georgia sat down on the end of my bed. ‘Jem. I need to ask you a favour. You know how Rosie wanted to swap rooms? Well, Ted disagreed, but he suggested they have a party in his and Gus’s room instead.’

  ‘What a great idea. So twenty people can get into trouble instead of four.’

  ‘There’ll only be trouble if we don’t come . . .’

  ‘If we don’t come?’

  ‘Rosie wants me to go and I want you to come with me.’

  ‘No way.’

  ‘Jem, you have to. I’m begging you.’ Tears swam in Georgia’s eyes. ‘I’m worried about Rosie, I don’t want her to go by herself. And she will go. Anything could happen. Those boys – the more of us there are, the safer it’ll be.’

  ‘Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t tell Ms Wells.’

  ‘Gus is on a warning and if he gets into trouble again he’ll be expelled.’

  ‘Good. Problem solved.’ I picked up my book.

  ‘He hasn’t done anything . . . one of the teachers has a grudge against him . . .’

  ‘Oh, please. I’m telling Ms Wells right now.’ I put down my book.

  ‘You can’t, Jem, Rosie’ll blame me and she’ll never speak to me again.’

  ‘Good thing number two.’

  ‘Jem!’ wailed Georgia. ‘Please!’ Her face crumpled.

  I knew the sensible thing to do, the proper thing, would be to run to Ms Wells and report the lot of them, right?

  But instead I said, ‘Okay, I’ll come.’

  Dumb decision. Dumb, and wrong, and I can’t justify it, except that Georgia was so forlorn, so desperate, and – she’s my friend, and I wanted to help her. Maybe I did feel, deep down, that I owed her one after the last fiasco, getting her branded a bully victim by the whole school. And I didn’t want anything bad to happen her; not even to Rosie, really.

  And I didn’t want to be a dobber, again.

  And maybe, at the very cobwebby back of my mind, there was half a thought that if I went to a party with boys, then people wouldn’t think I was a dyke . . . I might even meet a charming boy . . .

  And there was the adrenaline afterglow of the inspiration guy, which had made me feel a little reckless and brave and in control of my life, and ready for an adventure.

  Hah.

  The ‘party’ started at ten o’clock. The staff were patrolling the corridors every half hour; they weren’t stupid. But Georgia and I got past them, and so did half of St Andrew’s, apparently, because the room was crowded.

  Very crowded.

  When Georgia and I arrived, every head swivelled in our direction and silence fell. It was excruciating. I shrank behind Georgia, and of course it was her they were staring at, really; I was just getting the overflow. But I knew how an alien would feel if it did land on our planet. It was as if these boys had never seen a girl before.

  ‘Come in, ladies,’ said a boy with curly hair.

  Georgia said, ‘Hi, Gus.’

  There were boys on the beds, boys on the chairs, boys on the floor. It was stuffy, and though everyone was obviously trying hard to stay quiet, there was a constant rumble of noise, occasionally broken by an exploding snigger. The lights were low, but it was impossible to miss the gleam of bottles being passed from hand to hand.

  ‘Make room for the ladies!’ said Gus, and three boys shifted hastily off the nearest bed so we could sit down. With so many boys packed into the room, I was almost certain that someone could see up my skirt and down my top and any other angle you could think of.

  A boy leaning against the wall by the bed held out a bottle. ‘Beer?’

  ‘No thanks.’

  ‘At least offer her a fresh one, Royston,’ came a voice from across the room, and Ted Rathbone emerged from the bathroom with two stubbies. Out of uniform he was only slightly less handsome; instead of being slicked back, his fair hair flopped casually over his forehead. He waded through the sprawled bodies to hand the beers to me and Georgia.

  I was so nervous I actually took a swig before I realised what I was doing. Great. Now when we got caught I couldn’t even say I hadn’t been drinking. The beer was bitter; I decided not to have any more. But I nursed the stubby, just to do something with my hands; and if I didn’t hold it, someone else would only drink it, right?

  ‘Great party,’ I murmured to Georgia. ‘This is really worth getting expelled for.’

  Whispered conversations had started up again, but eyes still swivelled in our direction. No one spoke to us. I caught Ted watching us and I gave him an uncertain smile. He didn’t smile back, but he looked at me gravely and took another mouthful of beer. I was disappointed he was drinking; I’d decided that he was going to be the sober, responsible member of this gathering, that at some point he’d shepherd everyone off to bed before anything bad happened. But apparently not.

  Then it hit me. Mackenzie would be at this party.

  I stood up abruptly.

  ‘Where are you going?’ hissed Georgia.

  ‘Back to our room. This is stupid.’

  ‘Stay – you can’t leave me here on my own!’

  ‘Then come with me.’ r />
  ‘But Rosie . . .’

  ‘Rosie isn’t even here!’

  Right on cue, there was a tap at the door and Rosie and Mackenzie walked in. A sigh of satisfaction ran through the room and every boy sat up straight. They’d stared at me and Georgia all right, but at the sight of those two golden girls, they positively salivated. I took another bitter swig.

  Rosie wrapped her arms round Gus and stuck her tongue down his throat. Nice. Some of the boys sniggered, some made encouraging guttural noises, but others were embarrassed as I was.

  Ted stepped across the bodies to reach Mackenzie and they kissed too – a polite, barely lingering meeting of lips – but for some reason that was just as hard to watch as Rosie and Gus. And okay, I admit it, underneath the embarrassment was a great fat slab of envy. Would anyone ever want to kiss me like that?

  Apart from Richard Patel. Who didn’t count.

  What if my first kiss turned out to be my last? What a depressing thought. I had another mouthful of beer. Didn’t taste so bitter now, it went down quite smoothly, in fact.

  Then Rosie turned to Georgia and threw her arms around her. ‘You came!’ She almost fell onto the bed and burst into giggles; she seemed pretty unsteady already.

  Someone hissed, ‘Sssh!’ and Rosie stifled her laughter. I shifted over to give her room, which wedged me up against the bedhead. The mood in the room had lifted; suddenly everyone was animated, smiling, on show. It was as if they’d all been waiting for the audience, and at last the performance could begin.

  I guess I could have left then. Rosie certainly wasn’t on her own now. Gus sat down and before long his hands were all over her. She paid no attention, or pretended to pay no attention; she was deep in conversation with Georgia, who also pretended to pay no attention, and after a few minutes some other boys joined the circle and soon they were chatting and laughing away.

  Mackenzie and Ted stood quietly on the far side of the room, arms round each other’s waists, like parents surveying their kid’s party. They looked so steady, so right together, that my heart lurched and I lowered my eyes.

  I should have left. But I pulled my legs up onto the bed and took another sip of beer and watched the room.

  No one talked to me. It sounds mad, but I was almost happy scrunched up on that bed. I was invisible, just the way I liked it. Time passed. People talked, and brought out more beer, and giggled. Some boys left; more space opened up. Rosie lay sprawled on the bed, her feet almost touching my head, but it was like we were in parallel dimensions, a force field between us. Georgia had slipped onto the floor, talking earnestly to two boys about vet courses. A group of boys sat on the carpet between the beds, discussing football, and every so often one of them would fling out an arm and whack my leg and glance over his shoulder and say, oh, sorry, and I’d smile distantly and shift my leg aside. Somewhere behind me Mackenzie and Ted talked and smiled, holding court, paying no attention to me. The room seemed far away; voices blurred and echoed. This was okay, this was relaxed, no problem. A new cold beer appeared beside me and I drank some; then I needed to go to the toilet and somehow I unfolded myself and picked my way across the room, which tilted under my feet until I reached the bathroom.

  It was very bright in there. I studied myself in the mirror. Was I drunk? I considered my reflection at some length and decided that I wasn’t. I drank some water and splashed my face and felt better.

  When I came out, Rosie and Gus had moved and my little spot at the top of the bed had gone. In fact everyone had shifted around; more boys had left and the rest had congealed into one group. Music played softly and the mood had altered again. Rosie sat up and laughed; Gus tilted a beer and ran his hand up her thigh.

  I tried to squeeze beside Georgia. ‘We should go.’

  ‘Oh – not yet.’

  ‘It’s late, come on.’

  She squinted at her watch. ‘Wait a few minutes, it’s nearly one o’clock, Ms Wells’ll catch us.’

  ‘She won’t be on patrol now.’

  ‘Just a few more minutes,’ pleaded Georgia.

  ‘Okay, five more minutes.’

  There wasn’t room for me to sit beside her so I had to perch on the other bed, not far from Mackenzie. I wasn’t having fun any more; I was twitchy and anxious. We’d been so lucky to get away with this, all I wanted now was to be safe in bed and asleep.

  Then I heard Gus’s voice, a little louder than before.

  ‘Go on, do it. Go on.’

  A shiver ran through the room, an intake of breath, and then a wordless rumble, an urging. I didn’t understand what was happening. I inched back toward the safety of the wall, flinching from that intense, greedy noise.

  Rosie tossed back her hair and laughed. She raised her eyebrows at Georgia, who laughed too, but uncertainly. Then they leaned together across the bed and kissed. As their mouths opened wider, the boys’ low chorus grew louder, more excited, and Rosie and Georgia drew out their kiss, playing their audience, feeling their own power, and when they broke apart they both looked around the room, laughing and triumphant.

  I felt sick. I couldn’t believe Georgia would do something so cheap. And now the boys were worked up, what next? Would she take her clothes off? Couldn’t she see that the boys were the ones with the real power here, not her?

  But now Gus had swivelled around and was leering at the other side of the room. My side of the room. Leering at me, at me and Mackenzie.

  ‘Your turn, girls.’

  Ted said calmly, ‘Rack off, Gus, you’re drunk.’

  ‘And you’re not? Come on, Mackenzie, don’t wuss out, you’re not frigid, are you? Ted says you’re not. Come on, it’s your turn, you and your friend.’

  An unpleasant, rhythmic murmur rippled round the room, and hardened. Most of the boys were grinning, but for the first time I felt frightened. I couldn’t reach the door without going past them; they could grab me without even needing to stand up.

  Instinctively I turned to Mackenzie, and found she’d inched closer to me across the bed; we were almost huddled together. And then, at last, anger welled up inside me. How dare they force us into this! I glared at Gus. ‘Piss off!’

  The boys gave a low, threatening growl, and a shiver of movement passed through the room as they edged closer to the bed, closing the trap.

  Mackenzie’s fingers tightened on my arm. ‘Don’t, Jem.’

  I heard Georgia’s voice, high and frightened. ‘Better do what they want . . .’

  Mackenzie and I looked at each other. Her hand was still on my arm and I felt her grip me tighter and tighter as her face moved closer to mine. Her breath was hot against my cheek. I was breathing fast.

  Suddenly Mackenzie cried out and flung my arm away. She covered her face with her hands, and stumbled to the door.

  ‘Mackenzie!’ said Ted in a hoarse whisper, and he was on his feet too, and I staggered up and floundered after them both, dizzily tripping over boys’ legs, and pleased, with one corner of my mind, that I managed to kick some of them. I grabbed the door just as it closed behind Ted. As I stumbled into the corridor, I saw him disappear through the fire door. I sprinted after him, flung the door open, but then the beer hit me and I gasped for breath as I staggered up the stairs, clutching the rail. I could hear their feet clattering on the steps above me, and I heard Ted call Mackenzie’s name, and the heavy door to the roof swung open and slammed shut.

  I dragged myself up the steps, head spinning, heart pounding. Finally I burst out into the cool, crisp night and felt the fresh air drench my burning face; I stood there for a minute just gulping it in. My head cleared. Then I heard voices. They were speaking quietly, but I heard every word.

  Ted said, ‘You didn’t have to do it if you didn’t want to. It doesn’t do anything for me . . .’

  Mackenzie laughed, a wobbly, strained laugh that I’d never heard before. ‘But I did want to,’ she almost sobbed. ‘I did want to. That’s the trouble.’

  ‘I know,’ came Ted’s voice, and it was mu
ffled, as if he was hugging her. ‘I know, mate, I know.’

  Mackenzie murmured into his chest, and I knew I should leave, that I shouldn’t be listening to this, but just then the heavy fire door clicked shut behind me like a gunshot, and Ted said sharply, ‘What was that? Who’s there?’

  I stepped out into the half-light cast from the higher office buildings and the three of us stood blinking at each other. ‘It’s only me.’

  Mackenzie sobbed out, ‘Jem – oh!’ as if she were choking, and she broke away from Ted and fled for the cover of an air-conditioning tower.

  ‘Mackenzie!’ I tried to follow her, but Ted grabbed me.

  ‘Give her a minute,’ he said, kindly, but firmly, and he sat us down on the edge of a concrete block with his arm around my shoulder. Side by side, we stared out at the city lights.

  Ted said, ‘I’m sorry about all that. Gus is – Gus is a dickhead.’

  ‘It’s not your fault.’

  ‘Yeah, it is. I let them go too far.’

  ‘You couldn’t stop them.’

  ‘Yeah, I could.’

  We sat in silence for a minute then Ted said, ‘You know it’s you she really cares about, don’t you.’

  I shook my head. ‘Yeah, right. We were supposed to be friends, then she—’ ‘Jem, I know everything, believe me.’ Ted laughed ruefully. ‘Sounds as if I know more about it than you do.’

  I stiffened. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘Hey, settle down.’ He squeezed me round the shoulders till I relaxed. ‘Better let Mackenzie do the talking.’

  ‘She doesn’t talk to me anymore.’ To my shame, tears prickled behind my eyelids.

  ‘She will.’ Ted pulled back and I tried to focus on his face in the dim light. ‘You don’t get it, do you. Listen: it’s you she cares about. Do you understand?’

  I was silent for a moment. At last I said, ‘No. Yes. No. But – what about you? Aren’t you—?’

  ‘Don’t worry about me,’ said Ted. ‘I’m okay. But I’d better go and clean up that mess downstairs before we all get chucked out of the hotel and then out of our schools.’ He stood up and I saw the shadowy mass of Mackenzie outlined against the sky.