Page 69 of Save Us
“No wonder, if you’re going around with a face like that the whole time.” Kesh pushes away the bowl of crisps that we’d been passing around, but which had somehow, over the course of the evening, come to a stop by him.
Wren gasps with outrage. “Hey! Excuse me, what’s wrong with my face?”
“It’s about as inviting as a bed of nails that’s gone up in flames.” Kesh frowns fiercely and glowers around the room. When he looks at Alistair, the expression slips slightly and he hastily turns away. There’s an awkward pause while Alistair frowns back at Kesh, then takes a deep breath, and his brow smooths a little.
“You need to turn your mouth down a bit more,” Alistair says after a moment, pulling another sulky face. “Kind of like this.”
For a moment, Kesh seems thrown, but then the grin that spreads over his face seems genuinely from the heart.
He copies Alistair. “Hello, I’m Wren Fitzgerald and I don’t want to talk. Leave me in peace, lovely neighbor, so that I can get on with my grumpy teenage existence, thank you very much.”
Alistair, Ruby, and I burst out laughing, and after a moment, Wren joins in. Kesh leans back on his elbows, smiling to himself with satisfaction.
“Bunch of shitheads. Can anyone kindly remind me why I invited you?” he asks once everyone’s calmed down a little.
“Because we’re your friends and you didn’t want to spend this evening without us?” I ask.
“Or because you need someone to christen the sofa?” says Alistair.
“Or because you wanted someone to spill crumbs all over your carpet?” Kesh pensively removes a few crisp fragments from the patterned rug.
“It’s brand-new, bro.”
At that, Kesh picks up the bowl of crisps and holds it out to Wren with a grin.
Alistair cuts in before Wren gets a chance to speak, although he was clearly about to. “Guys.”
We all look at him. He holds up his phone so we can see a photo of a crowd of people. It’s overexposed from the flash, and you can’t see straightaway who they are.
“Looks like James McCormack’s having a party tonight too.”
“So?” Wren asks indifferently. None of us can stand McCormack. Not because he’s the Eastview lacrosse captain, but because he’s an arrogant bastard who plays dirty and causes trouble in every match.
I lean in and squint. And then I see why Alistair mentioned it. At the edge of the screen, I spot someone being held up by two other guys, looking like he’s about to throw up his guts. Someone who looks suspiciously like…
“Is that Cy?” asks Kesh, his brow furrowed.
“Definitely,” Alistair replies with a nod, as he looks inquiringly at Wren.
“Looks rough,” says Wren.
I mutter in agreement. Cyril’s white as a sheet, his hair hanging down over his forehead. Someone’s phone is in his face as they go to take a photo of him. He looks like he’s trying and failing to fend them off with his hands.
“Didn’t you invite him?”
Wren nods. “Yeah, but he still didn’t reply.”
Suddenly, the air between us is heavy.
“What d’you think?” Alistair suddenly asks us all. “Shall we go and pay James McCormack a little visit?”
The floor is shaking under my feet. The music is so loud that even the walls are shaking. I force my way through little knots of people, some dancing, some trying to talk over the noise. Someone jerks up their arm, and beer splashes from their bottle onto my face. I wipe my cheek with the back of my hand in irritation. A lad I know from lacrosse rams his elbow in my side as I pass. I glare at him, and he looks challengingly back. But I’m not up for a fight just now.
I lean down to Ruby, who is walking beside me but hasn’t said a word for some time.
“Are you OK?” I yell.
She nods and shapes her lips into a quick, fake smile. I don’t blame her. We could be sitting in Wren’s cozy bedroom, but instead we got Alistair’s driver to bring us here, where the party of the century is clearly in full swing.
