Life of the Party

“
‘I can look after myself!’ I yelled, turning on my heel.

‘Chloe, what do you think you –’

Hadn’t I made myself clear enough, or what?

‘Don’t follow me!’ I screamed. ‘I’m fed up with you, okay?
I don’t need you
, and
I don’t want your company
. Is that getting through yet?’

‘Oh yes,’ she called bitterly after me, ‘that’s got through. Get over yourself, Chloe!’
”

‘What have I got?’ I yelled. ‘Two heads?’

Steph snorted with laughter, but the boy who was staring didn’t seem to think it was funny. Rob Yeadon, the jerk.

This was the best thing in my changed life: I wasn’t shy any more. Not scared to speak my mind. I didn’t hold back my opinions, or a snappy retort. Flipping the
top off another Breezer, I giggled. Two heads! Good line! I liked that.

‘Sometimes I wonder,’ said Rob Yeadon. ‘Half a brain in each, like?’

‘Ignore him,’ said Steph. She glared at Rob.

Good old Steph. My best friend. It was Steph who’d befriended me, given me confidence. Before Steph, I’d thought I wasn’t worth knowing.

I wasn’t. Even my own father used to phone Mum with some excuse, the night before I was due to spend the weekend with him. He was still sorting out his life, he said. He needed space. Well, if even my dad tried to get out of my company, why would anyone else want it?

Except that Steph did. And instead of feeling sorry for me, she got angry at Dad.
He
was the selfish one, she used to say.
He
was the one who didn’t deserve
me
. And after laughing nervously a few times and shrugging, I’d started to believe her. Yeah, she was right. It wasn’t all my fault. I wasn’t a worthless human being. I was entitled to some fun, too, and a life.

Yeah
, she’d say.
Dead right, Chloe! Forget him, and forget that Rob Yeadon and all.

Steph had cottoned on straight away that I fancied Rob but was too shy to do anything about it. Anyway, if he wasn’t looking at me like something the cat dragged in, he was ignoring me.
He’s
obnoxious.
Steph would tease me, cheer me up.
Come on, have a drink.

If I was mad or miserable, I could call her and she’d talk sense into me and make me laugh. We always had a laugh.

Even Steph could be a pain, though. Even Steph sometimes dragged me down.
Like now.

‘You’re never having another?’ Her eyebrows were practically up in her hairline.

‘Like you’ve been a model of sobriety all night!’ I laughed.

‘Yeah. I didn’t start at four o’clock, though.’

I wondered if Steph was one of those people who needed a tame sidekick, a stooge to boss around. Suspicion made me suddenly, blazingly angry.

‘Have you got a problem?’ I snapped.

She looked bewildered, and even a bit hurt.

‘I’ve got a mind of my own, you know,’ I spat. ‘Have you got a problem with that?’

Her puzzlement turned to cold fury. She stood up very abruptly.

‘I think it’s you that’s got the problem, Chloe.’ Snatching up her half-empty plastic
cup – and almost spilling it – she stormed off.

I felt really pleased with myself. My mind sharp and keen, my head light, I was on top of the world. I’d shown them all: Rob Yeadon and that up-herself cow Steph as well. Oh sure, she made me laugh and gave me confidence, but so did alcohol. I wasn’t dependent on her. I wasn’t dependent on anyone but myself.

And then I saw the stupid little smile on Rob Yeadon’s face. He was standing in a dark corner of the room with a couple of his thick pals, eyeing up the girls. Except at that moment he wasn’t. He’d obviously just said something to his mate, who looked straight at me and laughed. And Rob Yeadon just stared at me again and shook his head and smiled.

He was laughing at me. Laughing at me!

All the good feeling drained out through the soles of my feet, which made me feel dizzy again, but not in a nice way. My stomach felt cold as I realised what I’d said to Steph. Straight away I forgot it again, but whatever it was, it made my head spin horribly. The music in here was way too loud. My brain throbbed, which wasn’t nice in a spinning head. Automatically I lifted the bottle to my lips, but now it tasted too sweet, like sugary chemicals. My throat lifted.

Oh, boy, did my throat lift. Somehow I got to my feet and bolted for the flat door. Luckily it was a ground floor flat; I’d never have made it down the stairs.

Steph caught up with me in the narrow close alongside the flats. I’d been sick out in the street as well – luckily there weren’t many people around – and then I’d limped
into the alleyway and been sick again. Several times. I hated being sick, but at least it made me feel a bit better.

I leaned on the wall with both hands. It was a nice wall. I liked the coolness of the stone against my palms. So I put my forehead against it as well.

Steph rubbed my back.

‘You okay?’ she asked gently.

I thought I was going to say something intelligent, but instead I just groaned.

‘Poor old you,’ she said.

Which was more sympathy than I deserved.

‘I’m really sorry, Steph,’ I managed to say.

‘Don’t worry about it, kiddo. Come on, I’ll get you home.’

‘But you wanted to –’

‘Have you any idea how late it is? C’mon,
it’s time to go anyway. It was getting boring.’

And so were you, Chloe.
But she was too kind to say it.

‘Sorry,’ I said again. Experimentally I pushed myself away from the wall. I swayed, but I could walk roughly in a straight line.

‘Whose flat was that, anyway?’

She shrugged. ‘Dunno. Some mate of Martin’s big brother.’

I was really glad I didn’t know the flat owner. I sort of suspected how embarrassed I was going to be in the morning.

‘Was it a good party?’

‘It was okay,’ said Steph. ‘Up to a point.’

Which meant,
I was enjoying it till you spoilt it, Chloe.
I felt rotten and I knew when I was sober I was going to feel even rottener.

‘Never again,’ I mumbled. ‘Honest, Steph, I’ll never touch another drop.’

She took my arm, and gratefully I leaned into it.

‘I’ve heard that one before,’ she said.

But at least she laughed.

It was especially kind of Steph not to dump me at my front door and run. Instead, she took my keys out of my bag and got me inside, and stayed beside me to face the wrath of Mum.

Not that Mum’s wrath amounted to much.

‘Oh, Chloe, for goodness’ sake.’ She put her hand to her mouth. She was in the hallway, in her dressing gown, and she looked dazed, as if she’d been asleep but had heard us coming. That wouldn’t have been difficult, since I’d fallen over when I opened the gate, and knocked over the wheelie bin.

‘It’s okay, Mrs Finch,’ said Steph firmly. ‘Really it is. Chloe just doesn’t feel too good.’

‘Don’t feel too good,’ I muttered.

‘So I’ll just get her up to her room.’

‘Chloe.’ There were tears in Mum’s voice. ‘Was it something that happened? Is it me and Dad? Is there something I can …’

Even feeling as bad as I did, I could still give her a withering glare. No, it was nothing you did, I wanted to say. No, I’m hardly going to be bothered about Dad when he’s not bothered about me. All I’m doing is having a good time. Don’t be so understanding and –
patronising.

I couldn’t be bothered saying anything. But I think she got the point of the glare.

‘Tomorrow,’ she said lamely. ‘We’ll talk about this tomorrow. Right, love?’

Tomorrow, I thought, I’d better avoid Mum like the plague.

Avoiding Mum was easy enough; she was annoyed with me, that was for sure, but she was also dreading the confrontation, and she’s no better in the mornings than I am. She muttered something over breakfast about
talking later,
then scurried off to work. I wish I could have avoided Rob Yeadon as easily.

He grinned at me as he came into the classroom, a superior sort of grin. I was sitting at my desk, hoping I wasn’t going to have to stand up any time soon, because I felt nauseous again. He leaned down as he passed, specially to insult me.

‘Looking rough,’ he murmured.

‘Yeah, you are that,’ I snapped.

If I’d had a drink inside me, I could have thought of something wittier. But that would have to do.

He was like a bad virus. He wouldn’t go away.

‘To think I used to fancy you,’ he sneered. ‘Before you were such a cheap drunk.’

That took my breath away. Even if I’d thought of a snappy retort I couldn’t have got it out. I stared at the pile of books on my desk, trying not to be sick and feeling desperately hurt.
Might have told me earlier,
was all I could think.

Talk about irony.

Might have told me, when I was too shy and insecure to tell
him.
Might have told me, maybe, before I started drinking more so I’d have the confidence to chat him up …

Oh, sod him. I had friends. Plenty of friends. I was the life and soul of the party these days.

Best of all, I had Steph. I leaned across to her.

‘The park, later?’

She grinned. ‘Thought you were staying in for the rest of your life?’

‘I need some fresh air,’ I hissed, jerking my head at Rob Yeadon.

‘Been having a go at you? Ignore him.’ She sniffed. ‘Yeah, okay. Meet you after tea?’

‘Great!’

I wanted some company. I hated that nagging voice that had crept back into my brain, the one that said I was ugly and worthless and pointless. I just wanted to hang out with friends who liked me.

It wasn’t as if I was going to have a drink or anything.