Page 107 of High Season
“Oh yeah,” said Chrissie, white-blond and wearing a row of gold bangles up an arm. “Aren’t you the girl who hangs around with that weird kid whose mum works at the pink house? Jodie something?”
“Josie,” Tamara says flatly.
“Yeah, Josie,” Chrissie said. “She always looks like she’s been dragged through a bush.”
Phoebe, a girl whose auburn hair had been disguised with highlights, whose pale freckles were just visible through a thick layer of foundation, giggled.
“Oh yeah, she’s always, like, lurking when we’re at your house, Tamara.”
“She was always such a freak,” added Olivia. “Do you remember, Tamara? She was always staring at you when we were in the pool in our bikinis. So gross.”
Tamara picked up a bottle of vodka and took a swig.
“Josie?” Hannah said, confused.
Tamara swiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
“Erm, yeah, didn’t you know your friend was a lesbian?” Chrissie said the word with a gleeful delight. “She tried to snog Tamara—right, Tamara?”
Tamara didn’t meet Hannah’s eye.
“Josie tried to kiss you?” said Hannah.
It didn’t make sense. Hannah and Josie were always talking about their celebrity crushes, sharing elaborate fantasies about boys at school. Josie would tell her if she was into girls. Hannah was sure of it.
“Yeah,” said Tamara loudly. “She just lunged at me. It was so weird. She’s basically been obsessed with me for ages.”
She passed the vodka to Olivia.
“Hey,” said Olivia. “Guess who invited Hannah here.”
There was a singsong lilt to her words. She made them sound like a playground chant.
“Who?”
Olivia paused. She looked between the girls, gleeful. Settled on Tamara.
“Blake,” she said.
Hannah knew she wasn’t imagining the way that Blake’s name tightened something in the air. How Chrissie and Phoebe exchanged a glance. They were impressed. Maybe even a bit jealous.
Tamara was lighting a cigarette, unmoved as the others shot eager glances toward her, hunting for her reaction.
“So?” she said. “Blake’s probably invited half the town.”
“Are you, like, hooking up with him or something?” said Chrissie.
Hannah shrugged. Trying to play it cool.
“Oh, you know,” she said. “We’re just seeing where it goes.”
Olivia passed her the bottle of vodka and she took a large swig. It burned all the way down to her stomach, a petroleum tang.
“You like him?” asked Olivia.
“Everyone likes Blake,” said Tamara. “He’s the fucking golden boy. Can we talk about something other than who fancies my brother, please?”
“Let’s play a drinking game,” said Olivia. She turned to Hannah, voice saccharine. “Unless you want to go and find Blake?”
