Page 62 of A Cornish Love Story
‘It’s fine,’ I said, even though it wasn’t.
‘He might still make it.’
‘He might,’ I echoed, even though I knew that when Sarah went off the rails, she did it in a way that consumed all of Ethan’s time and energy. I replied, because despite my disappointment it was much harder for him than me.
Can I do anything? I don’t care about the dance, I care about you. Love you too. xx
His reply was instant.
Go and have fun. I’ll be there as soon as I can. x
Five minutes later, the limo Freddy had got his dad to hire honked outside the house, and Kira and I put our heels on. Mum gave me a hug at the door, then pinned a yellow rose corsage to the strap of my dress.
‘Blue for your eyes, gold for your hair,’ she said. ‘Go and have fun, my precious mermaid.’
The school hall was dressed up with helium balloons hanging from the ceiling, and a projector that danced patterns of light across the floor, hiding the grime and dust that had embedded itself over decades of assemblies and parents’ evenings. There was a bar consisting of Coke and lemonade, fruit juice and sparkling water, and I wondered how many of the students had broughtsmall bottles of spirits with them to liven things up.
Crisps had been decanted into paper bowls, Hula Hoops already spilled onto the floor adding a crunch underfoot, and the DJ was the science lab tech, Lenny. We walked in as he was playing ‘We Are Young’ by Fun, but from the way my fellow students were clustered around the edges of the room, it was as if they were purposefully trying to contradict it.
‘Fuck’s sake,’ Kira muttered. Freddy looked great in a blue velvet tuxedo and bow tie, and Orwell had gone for classic black and white, though he had a pair of red brogues on.
‘We could go straight to the house?’ I suggested. ‘Ethan could meet us there.’
‘Not a chance.’ Kira took Freddy’s hand, then mine, and I took Orwell’s as she pulled us to the centre of the dance floor and started singing along at the top of her very out-of-tune voice. Soon, all four of us were shouting the words, other students looking at us with curiosity or disdain. A couple of girls from my English class started singing, and Kira pounced, dragging them out to join us. Then she did a sweep of the room, grabbing hands and shimmying in front of the bored onlookers, and the disdainful looks were replaced by grins as everyone stopped trying to play it cool.
‘You’re amazing, you know that?’ I shouted over ‘Starships’ by Nicki Minaj, and Kira laughed, her head tipped back.
‘It’s our last night! Everything changes after this. We have to make it memorable.’
I smiled and couldn’t help checking my phone.
By the time Lenny called out the last song – why was itstill‘Angels’ by Robbie Williams? – we were ragged from all the dancing, and while other students were picked up by their parents or waiting limos, some of my classmates decidedly merry, we’d been saving our booze for the house.
We walked away from the school, taking a detour onto the seafront. It was a breathtaking night, the moon fat and high, flanked by a chorus of mesmerizing stars, the sand bathed white. The tide was out, the waves a silky, distant whoosh, and the air was cool but not cold, a welcome whisper over my heated skin.
Kira slipped her hand into mine. ‘Still no word from Ethan?’
I shook my head. I’d sent him a message half an hour ago:What’s happening? You OK? xbut hadn’t had a reply. I wasn’t surprised that he hadn’t made it, but the disappointment was a cluster of rocks low in my stomach.
‘He might still come.’ Freddy gave me an apologetic glance. ‘He’s a sound dude.’
‘That’s part of the problem,’ Kira said. ‘If he wasn’t such a good big brother, then Georgie wouldn’t be feeling so low.’
‘Hey.’ I forced a smile. ‘I’ve got you guys. We’ve just had an amazing night. I can see Ethan tomorrow.’
‘If it reallyisSarah he’s running off to spend time with,’ Orwell said, and Kira whacked him with her clutch bag.
‘Of course it is. Cheating on Georgie is the last thing Ethan would ever do. He’s a foundations guy, remember? Solid and dependable.’
‘That’s the impression he’s given, anyway.’ Orwell undid his bow tie and shoved it in his pocket. I’d danced with him a few times that evening, and he’d been charming and funny and taken my mind off missing Ethan for a while, which made his shit-stirring even harder to take.
‘Why would he bother?’ I asked, more sharply than I’d intended. ‘If he liked someone else, he could go and be with them, couldn’t he? Why keep me dangling too, if he’s not interested any more? He could justsayso.’ I didn’t want to believe Orwell, didn’t want to think that there might be another reason Ethan was absent so often, but it was hard to stop the doubt creeping in, like the weeds snaking through the cracks in the walls that surrounded our abandoned house on the hill.
It felt different with us all in our party gear, the weight of the next few months hanging over us, full of possibility but also the dread of things changing, our neat little sixth-form bubble popping and letting us out into the real world.
We sat in our favourite room, next to the fireplace, the windows letting in swathes of moonlight. We’d left rucksacks on the house side of the wall earlier, so we didn’t have to take them to the disco, and I had my blanket of stars. I spread it on the floor and Orwellimmediately sat next to me, crossing his legs without a glance in my direction.
Kira caught my eye and gave me an exasperated look, and I discreetly rolled my eyes at her.
