Page 5 of Vying Girls
CHAPTER 2
Tilda
I scream as a wall of hail is hurled at us. They feel like little daggers flaying my skin, punishing me for cropping this t-shirt. No regrets from the look Haz gave me earlier, but now there’s nowhere to hide. We’re trapped behind these rope barriers, the line inching slowly towards the door of the third club of the night.
At least it’s washing out the citrusy scent of foam. That had been a nasty surprise. I’m all for foam parties when the weather’s warmer, but tonight it just felt like penance.
Worth it for the look on Nic’s face though. Her hair’s still plastered flat to her head; she’s been combing at it non-stop. We had about a minute warning from the app, the thing pinging oneveryone’s phones. Someone screamed it’s going to be acid, not foam, which ratcheted up the tension a bit.
I preferred thetreatfrom the first place, the masks that were flung from veiled figures on the edge of the dance floor. I’d gone to pluck a black masquerade mask that Nic quickly swiped. Just because she could with those lanky, orangutan arms.
‘Could be anyone behind these masks,’ she shouted into my ear, only a sly smile visible on her face. ‘Ghost of Christmas past, even.’
She’s been making these weird little comments all night. Trying to psych me out or something. I’m not really sure what. I’m over trying to figure that one out.
Hard not to wonder when she’s everywhere I turn, though. When I go to the bar, she’s there. The loos, she’s there. Whole club full of people, she could easily lose herself. Her other friends are here. Why stick around me if she doesn’t have to? There’s a disturbing purposefulness to her actions tonight. Something that buzzes just past my awareness. I should be fazed but I’m fucked this far into the night. Downed way too much of that lethal black stuff. Between the four of us, we finished the bottle. It sits on Haz’s shelf now. She’s a fan of skulls.
‘This is fucking mental!’ she shouts. She’s not shying from the hailstorm. She blocks me in with her body, grinning up at the furious black sky. ‘Can’t believe they didn’t cancel tonight.’
‘Only gonna get worse,’ Nic says with none of the same excitement. There’s a line cut into her forehead. She’s taking the opportunity to smoke a cigarette despite the glares she’s garnering from others. Stuff fucking reeks.
‘Bring it, baby.’
‘Won’t be saying that when they cancel the ferry.’
‘Sourpuss.’ Haz chucks her under the chin. ‘Cheer up.’
Nic doesn’t respond to that. It’s always weird watching them. I forget, amid our enmity, that she’s practically family to thesetwo. That they love her. That she’ll probably be in their lives forever.
Does she feel the same kind of despair when she watches me with them? It’s probably worse for her. She’d had them all to herself until I came along. Maybe this whole thing’s just some misguided jealousy. And honestly, I can’t even blame her. I’ve never had a good handle on my emotions either.
We’re finally let in past a glowering security guard. Yeah, I bet he hates us tonight. We’re animals, inmates on release. Top of every university league table, plastered across brochures, number one filming location in the country, it’s difficult not to feel that power sometimes. Especially in these numbers, with a gallon of alcohol flowing through our veins.
I make for the bar but Haz steers me in the direction of the toilets. There’s a sea of bodies in there but I’m pushed through all of them to the hand dryers.
‘Move it, people. Emergency here.’
She shoves me in front of the warm air, warding everyone off with a damning smile and those thick, folded arms.
She’s rude, unrepentant. Behaviour I usually hate in a guy but with Haz, and with it directed at me, hate is the last thing I feel.
‘Better, princess?’ she says into my ear, kissing me there.
I hold my sodden t-shirt to the dryer, shivering from the warmth. ‘Much!’
Those waiting for a cubicle are checking their phones. It’s going to hit midnight soon and I think we’re all expecting something big.
Finally warm enough, I step away. ‘Wonder what it’s going to be.’
‘Something mega, I hope. I want a riot, a stampede.’
I grasp her hand as we leave for the dance floor. ‘As long as you’re there to pull me out of it.’
She gives me a look, that dark, delicious one. ‘What do you think?’
She knows exactly what I think. If only I could say the same.
I know she wants me. Even with all my screaming insecurities, I can’t convince myself she doesn’t. She’s all over me, all-encompassing. She hasn’t let me out of her sight all night. But if I push, she pulls away. If I take a step towards her, she takes one back. It’s a frustrating dance, one that can’t last forever. I’m going out of my mind with wanting her. I don’t know how she can stand it.
