Playlist for a Broken Heart (17 page)

‘Alex? From your old school? No. It can’t be,’ said FB.

‘Why not?’ I asked.

‘Did he say for certain it was him?’

‘Not exactly but he intimated that it was.’

FB shook his head again. ‘He’s messing with your head.’

‘How do you know that?’ I asked again. ‘And what was it that you wanted to say to me about the boy who made it.’

‘Oh . . . just to keep an open mind,’ said FB.

‘Meaning what?’

‘He could be anywhere, be anybody,’ he continued.

‘Well I already know that.’

‘Could even be me!’ FB blurted. ‘Have you considered that?’

I burst out laughing, then saw that FB looked hurt. ‘What’s so funny?’

‘You’d have said so when we first made the announcement that we were looking for the boy who made the CD.’

‘Maybe I wanted to get to know you first.’

‘OK. Then who’s Sarah?’

FB looked like he’d gone into a sulk. ‘Sarah might not be real,’ he said.

‘Not real?’

‘Maybe she’s a fantasy girl. Someone who was made up. Or maybe she is real and I do know who she is but the Sarah the CD was made for was . . . she’s a fantasy
Sarah.’

I sighed. ‘What are you on about? This really isn’t funny, FB. I thought you and I were friends, and you know what this CD means to me, so why are you winding me up like this? Now I
don’t know what to think.’

‘I’m not winding you up, honest. I just wanted to say that you should keep an open mind and don’t pin too many hopes on when you find the boy, that he’s Mr Perfect. We
know what the CD is about – meeting the perfect girl – but what about if it’s not like that in real life. Maybe you’re looking for a fantasy boy more than a real one with
flaws. That’s all I wanted to say. Try and see what’s in front of you instead of avoiding relationships by holding on to a romantic ideal.’

Inwardly, I felt myself squirm. It felt like FB had seen right inside of me. Mystery Boy was my fantasy, the dream I escaped to when I was feeling low or feeling full of self doubt, a place
where everything was perfect, but I didn’t want to let FB know how insightful he’d been. ‘Wow. That’s heavy stuff, FB. What are you really trying to say?’

‘I’m trying to say that I think we have something special regardless of whether I made the CD or not. We have so much in common.’

‘We do—’

‘I know I’m not Mr Hunky Gorgeous like, say, Niall,’ FB interrupted.

‘He is not gorgeous, or at least he might be but he’s not my type. He’s so obviously good-looking. I prefer someone more interesting.’

‘That’s what I thought,’ said FB. ‘That’s why I thought I could risk telling you how I felt. You wouldn’t throw it back at me.’

‘I . . . I . . .’ I felt totally confused and glanced away. I noticed Alex coming down over the park towards us. He was with Callum and he waved when he saw us then pointed towards
the stage, then at Callum, as if to say that he was going to go with his cousin. I gave him the thumbs-up to say I understood.

FB’s expression looked even sulkier. ‘Your Alex is Alex Taylor?’

‘Yes. How do you know him?’ I asked.

‘He used to live in Bath. We went to the same junior school. He wasn’t one of my mates and we stay in touch on Facebook. He’s your Alex?’

‘Well not
my
Alex exactly.’

FB looked at me closely and then back over at Alex’s back. His expression said everything. ‘But you’d like him to be,’ he said wistfully.

Our conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Clover and Tasmin who were both wearing their
Songs for Sarah
T-shirts. FB looked shocked when he saw them.

‘Where’s yours?’ asked Tasmin. Her face was slightly flushed and she smelt of alcohol.

‘Allegra’s got it on,’ I said.

Clover nodded. ‘Where is she?’

‘Taking photos at the Crescent,’ I said and looked at droves of teenagers who were still arriving in the park, many now carrying umbrellas to keep off the rain that had started.

‘What’s the idea?’ FB asked. ‘You never told me about the T-shirts.’

‘And why should we?’ slurred Tasmin. ‘Since when do we need your permission?’

I was about to tell her that Alex and FB had both insinuated that they were the mystery boy when FB blurted, ‘because I’ve been helping Paige find him too.’

‘But—’ I started.

‘So far no luck,’ said FB and shot me a warning glance as if to say don’t tell what we’d been talking about. What was he playing at? I wondered.

‘We’re going to listen to the music,’ said Tasmin and started to go over to the area where people were seated on the grass. I noticed that she was swaying slightly as she
tottered away. ‘You coming?’

‘In a mo,’ I said. ‘Er . . . has there been any reaction to the T-shirt?’

‘Loads,’ said Clover. ‘People think they’re really cool. A few people have asked where they can get one. We should get a market stall selling them. Catch you
laters.’

As soon as they were out of earshot, I turned back to FB. ‘What is going on FB? If you are Mystery Boy, why can’t I tell them?’

‘Why do you think you haven’t found out who he is. Maybe he wants to be anonymous. Say it is me. No one would know who I am. It’s like wearing a mask and people can’t
make fun or assumptions.’

‘But how do I really know if it’s you or Alex?’ I asked.

FB looked deeply into my eyes. ‘In the same way that I know it’s really you. You’re the girl I’ve dreamt about but this time, you’re real. Don’t be like me,
Paige, hiding in a fantasy because you’re afraid you may get hurt. Make it real.’

I felt totally conflicted and confused. Alex had said something similar, that I’d know when I met the boy. I liked FB but I’d never thought about him as boyfriend material. He was my
friend – but we did get on well. I could talk to him more easily than any other boy I’d ever met. Why shouldn’t I think of him as a boyfriend?
Because there just isn’t
the chemistry
, I thought.
There isn’t. When I look into his eyes I don’t feel that flutter. But how do you tell a boy that you don’t fancy him?
I asked myself. The
last thing I wanted to do was hurt his feelings.
How can I tread on his dreams
? Suddenly it made sense that it could be FB. I understood. A boy like him wasn’t the obvious babe
magnet like Niall or Alex. Making a CD like
Songs for Sarah
was a way for him to express his deepest feelings without being known or rejected. It made sense that if it was him, he would
want to stay anonymous, but then he’d just made himself vulnerable by revealing his feelings about me.
God, this is difficult
, I thought.

‘But you hardly know me, FB—’ I started, but FB put up his hand, palm facing me.

‘Don’t,’ he said. ‘And don’t give me the ‘‘can’t we be friends’’ line either.’

‘But—’ I began again.

‘In love there are no buts,’ said FB and he turned and walked away.

I felt awful, mean and cruel, but mostly frustrated. ‘Wuh-arghhhh,’ I muttered. I turned and kicked the nearest tree just as Niall Peterson walked into sight. He glanced at me then
at the tree. He didn’t say anything. Not a word. He just walked on by.

For a nano-second, I thought about going after him, to apologise for judging him, to explain why I was kicking a tree.
And how is that conversation going to go?
I asked myself.
Oh
yes, I always kick trees that have done me no harm. No point. Now he probably thinks I’m bad tempered as well as a judgmental grumpy bitch
.

‘You OK?’ asked Allegra, suddenly appearing at my side.

‘Boys do your head in,’ I replied just as the skies opened and it began to really pelt down. Not the usual soft Somerset drizzle, this was like a tropical storm that soaked
everything and everyone in seconds. As we made a dash for cover, I thought,
This day is so not turning out the way I’d planned
.

My frustration about boys soon vaporised with a new concern. Tasmin. By late afternoon, everyone had taken shelter in the refreshment tents and piles of teenagers were packed
in there like sardines. The air smelt musty from damp clothes and hot bodies, and the noise level was high with so many people talking or shouting to make themselves heard. Vodka bottles and
alcopops were being quietly passed around and just outside the tents, under the trees, there was a smoking area, but I knew the groups out there weren’t just smoking roll-ups or cigarettes. I
recognised the smell of weed from parties with sixth formers that I’d been to in London.

I found Tasmin at the back of the pizza tent. She was slumped on the floor at the end of the counter and she wasn’t alone – a few of her mates from school were with her, including
Clover. They all seemed to be out of it, talking loudly slurring their words, some of them being clumsy, falling over or bumping into each other. At first it was all a laugh and they were funny to
watch but as time went on, I noticed that Tasmin was responding less and less.

‘How much has she actually drunk?’ I asked Stu.

Stu shrugged. ‘Dunno. Same as most of us. She’ll be fine. Chill, Paige. Have a drink yourself.’

Clover offered me the bottle of vodka to which she’d added cranberry juice. I didn’t really like alcohol but I took a swig because I didn’t want her or their mates to think I
was uncool. It tasted sour to me. Allegra had no qualms about refusing the bottle. ‘You don’t know who’s been drinking from it,’ she said.

I’m not prudish about alcohol nor is she. It was just that we’d been to enough parties in London and seen people acting like idiots or throwing up, particularly boys, to show us that
it wasn’t always that much fun.

‘I’m worried about Tasmin,’ I said. ‘I’ve never seen her like this and think she may have overdone it.’

Allegra went over to check her out. She tried to rouse her but Tasmin hardly opened her eyes. She was well gone. ‘Let’s go and find Alex,’ she said. ‘He’ll know
what to do but I’m sure she’ll be fine. She’s just pissed.’

We found Alex outside the tent with all the ston-ers. It had stopped raining, though the clouds above were still dark and threatening. There was a large group of boys passing round joints and
Alex was in the middle of them. He appeared to be very happy and very stoned, his eyes heavy and bloodshot.

‘Hey Juliet,’ he said when he saw me.

‘I’m worried about my cousin,’ I said and filled him in on her condition.

He put his arm around me, ‘Paigie, my little Julietie. I think you worry too much. Worry, worry. Have a smoke and chill. Your cousin’s probably fine. It’s you we need to worry
about. Miss Safe and Sensible.’

What he said hit a nerve. Being seen as safe and sensible was so not what I wanted to be and I thought I’d left that persona behind, but it wasn’t me to swig back the vodka and get
stoned. It didn’t appeal. Maybe I
was
safe and sensible, despite the makeover and new clothes. Maybe I had to accept that. I wriggled out from his arm while, over on the stage, a
band began to play and the stoners, including Alex, turned to listen. He was soon moving in time to the music, arms waving above his head and I, and my anxiety, had been forgotten.

‘I don’t know what to do,’ I said to Allegra.

She glanced back inside the tent. ‘Pizza,’ she said. ‘Maybe she needs to eat something. I’ll go and get some food, you go and check on her. Having something to eat might
help soak up some of the alcohol she’s drunk.’

Back inside the tent, Tasmin was still unresponsive but everyone around her seemed unconcerned and were chatting away as if it was completely normal to have someone in the group passed out in
front of them. Maybe I’d overreacted. I decided to try and make the most of the rest of the afternoon, listen to the music and enjoy what I could of it. Allegra was still at the end of the
pizza counter in a long queue. She was talking to someone. I stood on tiptoe to see better. It was Niall Peterson. He glanced over at me so I looked out of the tent flap then back at him and gave
him a shrug as if to say, ‘Rotten weather, isn’t it?’ He looked blank. He clearly didn’t speak shrug language. I decided to go over and apologise for my behaviour when I
first met him.

‘Hi Niall. Er . . . when I first met you, er . . . I know now that I got the wrong end of things and er . . . after that too. I want to say I’m sorry.’

‘Sorry for what?’ asked Allegra.

‘Getting the wrong end of the stick,’ I said. ‘I acted like a total idiot when I first met Niall.’

Niall shrugged a shoulder as though he couldn’t care less. ‘No problem,’ he said then pointed at the drinks at the other end of the counter. ‘I’ll go and get us
some juices – to go with the pizza – then my mate FB’s band is playing.’ He looked at me intently. ‘I believe you know him.’

‘Yes. Yes I do and I’d like to see him play too. How did you know that we know each other?’

‘Word gets around,’ he said, then headed off to get drinks.

When he’d gone, Allegra quickly turned to me, ‘He’s a bit dreamy, isn’t he? And you actually know him. How come you never mentioned him?’

‘I don’t really know him. I er . . . he lives next door to Tasmin.’

‘Would you mind if I get to know him?’ she asked.

‘Course not. Why would I?’

‘I thought I sensed some chemistry between you.’

‘Chemistry? No way. Honestly, we hardly know each other and the only encounters we’ve had have been a bit er . . . weird.’

‘Why?’

‘Oh just me seeing something that wasn’t there. I saw him heckling some guy and I thought he was being mean but turns out the guy had stolen some people’s music.’

‘That’s not cool.’

‘No. But I didn’t know that at the time. Anyway, yes, course. Niall, you. Go for it.’

‘OK. Great. I didn’t think you’d mind. You have enough boys to be interested in with Alex, FB and Mystery Boy. Niall seems really nice. He was asking about the T-shirt so I
told him a bit about the CD and the mystery boy. I’m surprised you haven’t got to know him better.’

Too late now
, I thought.
He hates me
.

When Niall came back with the drinks, I felt even more confused. To my surprise, I felt a flicker of jealousy when I saw Allegra flirting with him. Clearly, I did mind that she wanted to get to
know him. It was Alex I fancied, wasn’t it? But seeing him outside the tent had shown me another side of him and not one I was sure I liked.