I Knew You Were Trouble: A Jessie Jefferson Novel (3 page)

‘Isn’t that crowd a little old for you to be hanging out with?’ he asks.

‘Are you taking the piss?!’ Rock star or not, dads can be
preeettty
irritating.

‘Just behave yourself,’ he adds.

OK, that’s one step too far. This is coming from a former womanising drink and drug addict! ‘As if
you
can tell
me
to behave!’

‘That’s exactly why I
can
tell you,’ he says coolly. ‘I’ve been there, done that. I know where it gets you.’

‘I get enough of this shit from Stu,’ I complain.

‘That’s why I like your stepdad,’ Johnny says cheerfully. ‘Oh, and watch your mouth,’ he snaps as an afterthought.

Stu was initially a little stand-offish with Johnny – I’m not sure he’s quite forgiven him for the way he treated my mum.

I’m not sure
I’ve
quite forgiven him, I think with a pang. Mum died eight months ago, at the beginning of this year, and her death is still so raw. I’m getting better at
not thinking about it every minute of every day, but sometimes it still hits me out of the blue.

She was killed in a freak accident on my fifteenth birthday. She’d been rushing around, trying to get everything ready for my party, and she’d finally hurried out of the house to buy
my birthday cake. I waited and waited for her to return, getting increasingly pissed off with how long she was taking. Eventually that annoyance turned to dread.

All of my fears were founded. The police turned up to say that she had been walking along the pavement when a loose fourth-storey windowpane had crashed down on her, killing her instantly. I
broke, then, and I’ll never be fixed.

Mum had kept the secret of my real father’s identity from me my whole life. A few months after her death, I began to resent the fact that I would never know the truth. Poor Stu
didn’t know what to do with me – I was being a total bitch. I had no idea that he knew who my biological father was and, when he finally made the decision to come clean, I didn’t
believe him.

I still remember the exact moment that I found out.

‘
Please tell me
,’ I’d begged him
.
‘
I need to know. It’s why I’ve been so…
angry
… I can’t move on, I can’t
say goodbye to her. Not really. I’m so hurt and upset that she kept this from me.
Please…’

In the end, he came right out with it: ‘
His name is Johnny Jefferson.’

That wasn’t the moment, by the way. Like I said, I didn’t believe him at first because Johnny is a household name, like über-successful. As if
he
could be my father!

But Stu explained that Mum was a groupie of Johnny’s first band, Fence, before they became megastars. He said that she followed the band everywhere and was completely obsessed with Johnny,
their lead singer. This seemed more plausible because Mum was such a rock chick.

I warned Stu that if he was lying to me I’d walk out of the door and he’d never see me again. Then – and
this
is the moment – he swore on my mother’s grave
that he was telling the truth.

I believed him, then. He wouldn’t lie about that. I felt dizzy with shock, like my world had broken away from its axis and started to roll downhill.

That was just over two months ago, and my world is still out of control.

When I went to LA for the summer, Johnny himself told me what had happened between him and my mother, and it wasn’t pretty. He said they hooked up after one of his concerts and had a bit
of a thing going for a while, but, when Mum started to want commitment, he pushed her away. He even scored with another girl right in front of her. Bastard.

She never told him about me. By the time she found out she was pregnant, he was off on a world tour and stories about him and his groupies kept hitting the headlines. She realised she was just
one of many. It broke her heart, and Stu was around to pick up the pieces.

So no, I don’t think my stepdad has fully forgiven Johnny for his behaviour in the past, even if my dad is a changed man now, thanks to Meg and the boys.

The sound of a wailing child pierces my ears, bringing me back to the present.

‘
You OK, buddy?
’ Johnny shouts to his son over the cries.

‘You gotta go?’ I interrupt.

‘Yep, sorry, Jess. Barney’s banged his head on the table.’

‘Ouch. Give him a hug from his big sister.’
Half
-sister, but no need to be technical about it.

‘I will. Take care,’ he says warmly. ‘And be careful at the party!’

‘Yeah, yeah,’ I reply, but he’s already gone.

By the time Friday rolls around, I’ve taken to calling Louise ‘Lou’, I’ve filled her in on the history between Libby and me, and she even knows that my
mum died earlier this year, although I didn’t give her many details. She’s alright, actually. I like her. And it’s a relief to have a new friend to take away the sting of Libby
and Amanda’s twosome.

‘Any plans for tonight?’ Lou asks when we’re sitting on the field at lunchtime.

‘House party,’ I reply, distracted by Tom and his mates playing football. I didn’t see him at all yesterday. It was raining so we spent our breaks in the cafeteria. He was
probably in the sixth-form chill-out area. The
inner sanctum
…

‘It’s at Natalie’s friend’s house,’ I elaborate. I’ve told Lou about Natalie, too. ‘What about you?’

‘Nothing. Well, I said I’d call Chloe after dinner.’

Chloe is Lou’s best mate from Portsmouth. I’m not the only one who’s pining for a friend. The difference is, Lou’s circumstances were thrust upon her. I can only blame
myself for the end of my friendship with Libby. I was hurting so much after Mum’s death that I wanted to dull the pain, not add to it by talking it through all the time. And Libby’s
family is so perfect that being around them just reminded me of what I’d lost. I take a deep breath, trying not to dwell on Mum. I don’t want to lose it at school.

‘Why don’t you come to the party, too?’ I suggest.

‘Thanks, but I don’t want to gatecrash.’

‘Nat won’t care.’ At least I don’t think she will.

‘OK, maybe,’ she says.

I jolt as I see Tom glance our way, then someone kicks the ball at him and he’s off again.

‘Is he going?’ Lou asks me, noticing who has my attention.

‘I don’t know.’ I drag my eyes away to see Libby coming our way with Amanda in tow.

‘Can we join you?’ Libby asks, with a wavering smile.

‘Of course,’ I reply, pleased, ignoring the sour look on Amanda’s face as she reluctantly follows suit and sits down next to Libby on the grass.

‘How’s your first week been?’ Libby smiles at Lou.

‘Not bad,’ Lou replies.

I listen to their polite chat, trying to figure out why Libby is bothering. It’s clear she’s Amanda’s now. In fact, she’s so deep in her new friend’s pockets that
I’m surprised Amanda hasn’t stamped MINE, MINE, MINE all over her.

Maybe she’s missing me
, a small voice inside me whispers. My instinct is to quash it, but I’m not sure that I want to.

I look towards the playing field again and, at that very moment, Tom locks eyes with me. A shiver goes down my spine as he smiles. I shyly return the gesture, then make a concerted effort to
join in the conversation around me, but I still feel nervy for ages afterwards.

After final bell has rung, Lou and I walk out of the classroom together.

‘So do you want to come tonight or what?’ I ask her, slinging my backpack over my shoulder as we burst out of the double doors into the afternoon sunshine.

‘Thanks, but I think I’ll give it a miss.’

‘You sure?’ We walk across the cobbled courtyard.

‘Yes, but thanks. Next time?’

‘OK.’

At least I offered.

Up ahead, I see Tom exit the sixth-form block alone, pausing for a moment to wait for someone.

‘Why don’t you go and talk to him?’ Lou suggests, as my footsteps falter.

‘No, I couldn’t.’

‘Why not?’

‘Things are too weird.’ I shake my head decisively and glance up at Stu’s corner office.

‘He’s looking at you!’ Lou whispers urgently, making me do exactly what you’re not supposed to do in this situation: shoot my head round and meet his stare straight on.
Oops. It’s now completely obvious that he’s the subject of our discussion. Before I can look away again, he grins.

Lou giggles, I shush her and then his mate Chris walks out of the door behind him. Tom nods in our direction and they amble over to us.

‘Alright?’ I say casually, praying my face doesn’t imitate a beetroot this time.

‘Alright,’ Tom replies. ‘Hey.’ He nods at Lou, and I introduce them.

‘Are you going to Liam’s eighteenth tonight?’ I ask.

Tom frowns. ‘Who’s Liam?’

Disappointment surges through me. I’ll take that as a no, then. ‘He goes to college with Natalie,’ I explain.

‘You know Liam,’ Chris chips in, elbowing Tom. ‘He’s Isla’s sister’s… What’s her name?’

‘Lauren,’ Tom offers.

‘Yeah, Lauren’s ex.’

I stopped trying to follow the connection at the mention of Isla – Tom’s ex-girlfriend. And I switched off when Tom implied he wasn’t going…

‘Oh,’ Tom says slowly. ‘Yeah, I know the guy. Is it at his house?’ he asks me.

‘I think so. I think anyone’s invited,’ I add lamely, hoping that’s actually the case.

‘You going?’ Chris asks Lou.

‘Maybe.’ She shifts on her feet and, to my surprise, blushes. Does she like Chris?!

‘Might see you there, then,’ Tom says, bringing my attention back to him. I suddenly perk up again.

‘Sure.’ I nod casually and indicate for Lou to join me as we walk away. ‘So are you coming after all?’ I whisper.

‘Maybe,’ she replies, her colour deepening. ‘I’ll ask my dad.’

‘At long bloody last!’ Natalie exclaims, as she engulfs me in a hug in her doorway.

‘I’m only ten minutes late.’ My voice is muffled by her shoulder.

She laughs and pulls away. ‘No, I mean, about time we had a big night out. It’s been how long? Let’s make up for it now!’

We walk to the party. Stu dropped me at Nat’s, but not without warning me to be good. ‘You’re as bad as Johnny,’ I mumbled. He found this comment annoyingly funny.

‘You look amazing. I love your dress!’ Natalie gushes.

‘Thanks.’ It’s a black and mint minidress that Johnny bought for me in LA, but I keep that information to myself. ‘You too.’

She’s wearing a black skirt with an H&M top that I recognise. It’s pale blue, like her eyes, and contrasts well with her dyed-black hair.

‘How’s school?’

‘It’s OK,’ I reply. Better today, thanks to Libby’s effort. And the fact that I managed to speak to Tom without making a total fool of myself. ‘But I wish you were
still there,’ I add. ‘How’s college?’

‘Great,’ she replies, flashing me an apologetic grin. ‘Sorry. One more year and you’ll be there, too.’

Or I’ll be in LA. I’ve got no idea how my life is going to pan out in the next twelve months, or how I want it to.

I’ve already filled Natalie in on my time in America because she came over last week, so we spend the walk chatting about boys, namely Tom and Liam, the latter of whom is Natalie’s
current crush.

We pick up Lou on the way to the party and, when Liam answers the door to the three of us, I can see what Nat sees in him. He’s a tall, skinny emo-boy with messy black
hair, a lip piercing and a small tattoo of a thorny red rose on his right forearm. Totally and utterly her type.

‘You got it done!’ Natalie exclaims, grabbing his wrist and admiring his ink.

‘Yesterday.’ He laughs. It does look a bit raw, but still cool.

‘Happy birthday,’ Natalie says, proffering a bottle of vodka.

‘Cheers.’ He takes it from her as he shows us in. ‘Drinks are in the kitchen.’

He disappears into the first room on his left, where Thirty Seconds to Mars is pounding out of the stereo. Natalie leads the way into the kitchen, flashing me a ‘what-do-you-think?’
kind of look.

‘Hot,’ I mouth, which pleases her greatly.

We grab a few drinks and head outside. After a while, my phone buzzes. My heart jumps when I see it’s a text from Agnes, Jack’s sister:

I met Agnes in LA through Jack, but she’s kept in touch ever since.

Unlike her brother…

I emailed Jack shortly after I got back from America, but he hasn’t even bothered to reply. I really wish I hadn’t now.

I text Agnes back:

I smirk as I press Send. Lottie is Charlotte Tremway, a famous teen actress and the star of
Little Miss Mulholland
, one of my favourite TV shows.

It’s going to be weird watching her on the small screen now that I know her. There are a lot of people here who would go nuts if they knew I’d been to a couple of her infamous
parties.

Another text from Agnes comes in:

I giggle and stuff my phone back into my bag, shrugging off Natalie’s inquisitive glance. It’s a weird feeling: my two worlds colliding in one small moment.

About an hour later I’m squeezed onto a three-seat sofa with five other people as the music pounds out of the stereo and straight into my left eardrum. I’m pretty
tipsy now – it doesn’t take much – and I’m having fun, despite the fact that Tom still hasn’t turned up.

Liam is on the decks and he’s just put on ‘I’m Not Gonna Teach Your Boyfriend How to Dance With You’ by Black Kids.

I love this song, even though it reminds me of Jack. I helped him DJ at Agnes’s sixteenth birthday party in LA. Was that only a few weeks ago?

Before I can think about it, I’m squeezing out of my Natalie/Lou sandwich and pushing through the crowded living room to get to the DJ decks. Liam gives me a confused sideways look, but
nods when I indicate his record collection. I dance along to the music as I rifle through his vinyl, smiling as I come to The Wombats. He looks amused when I point to ‘Tokyo’, then
shrugs and takes the record from me. Jack’s going to see The Wombats in LA this month, and for a moment I’m right back there with him…