Beautiful Broken Things

‘You mean except me, Suze and all my other friends you’ve met loads of times before?’

‘I’ve got Service on Saturday morning,’ I said, referring to a compulsory Esther’s community-service initiative and feeling a jolt of relief for having come up with a legitimate excuse. ‘I can’t really turn up hungover.’

‘So don’t drink.’

‘Roz.’ As if.

‘OK, OK. Are you sure? It’ll be fun. Plus, how do you think you’re going to get a boyfriend sitting at home?’

That’s the downside of telling your best friend everything. They remember it. ‘Maybe next time.’

‘Are you OK? Are you pissed off?’

‘No, it’s fine.’ I’ll just watch TV with my parents.

‘Hey, how about you come round to mine after school tomorrow while we get ready? We’ll order pizza, and we won’t be leaving till about nine, so . . .’

A pity invite.

‘Um, maybe. I’ll think about it.’

‘Think about it quickly. I’ve literally got about a minute left.’

Pity pizza versus TV with my parents.

‘OK, sure,’ I said finally, already regretting it.

‘Great, come here at about five. Hey, go with Suze! Her aunt is driving her, and I bet she’ll pick you up. I’ll tell her.’

‘Wait—’

‘OK, time’s up. See you tomorrow! Bye!’

For all Rosie had said about them getting ready together, Suzanne was already dressed to the nines when she and her aunt Sarah picked me up. I was wearing a hoodie and black capris, and I eased into the back seat feeling foolish and plain.

‘You look nice,’ I said to her.

Suzanne turned in her seat and beamed at me, her fingers on the headrest. ‘Thanks!’ The seat belt strained at her shoulder. ‘Did you change your mind yet?’

‘Nope,’ I said, feeling even worse. Had she thought I was going to? It hadn’t even occurred to me.

Sarah reached out and tapped Suzanne’s knee. ‘Can you sit properly? You’re making me nervous.’

‘I’m fine,’ Suzanne replied without moving. ‘I trust your driving skills.’ She leaned further against the back of her seat, glancing around me. ‘Didn’t you bring any stuff?’

‘What stuff?’

Her face fell. She looked genuinely disappointed. ‘Are you really not coming?’

‘No,’ I said awkwardly. ‘I’m just coming for the pizza.’

‘Oh.’ She looked confused. Obviously the idea that someone wouldn’t jump at the chance to go to a party full of strangers was alien to her. We were clearly never going to be friends.

‘I don’t know anyone,’ I said, feeling like I needed to explain myself. ‘Plus I’ve got Service tomorrow.’

‘Service? What’s that?’

‘It’s a programme that Esther’s runs,’ I explained. ‘It’s like community service.’

She looked appalled. ‘And you have to do that every Saturday? Aren’t you allowed to have a life at that school?’

‘Suzie,’ Sarah said chidingly, but there was a laugh in her voice.

‘It’s just one Saturday a month,’ I said quickly. ‘But no, now you mention it.’

The car jolted to a stop at the traffic lights, and Suzanne’s head jerked forward. ‘Ouch,’ she said.

Sarah reached out her hand again and pushed her palm playfully against Suzanne’s face until she gave in and sat properly. For the last few minutes of the drive, I watched the back of Suzanne’s head. Her hair had been mussed slightly by Sarah’s fingers, causing blonde wisps to escape from her high ponytail. Just below the ponytail, partially hidden by the thin straps of the top she was wearing, I could see a scar snaking from the back of her neck, curving towards her right shoulder.

‘Call me tomorrow when you want me to pick you up,’ Sarah said to Suzanne as we pulled up outside Rosie’s house.

‘I’ll just get the bus,’ Suzanne said lightly.

‘No,’ Sarah said, patient but firm. ‘Call me and I’ll pick you up.’

Suzanne made a face as if she was about to protest, then thought better of it. ‘Fine. But don’t blame me if I drag you away from something more exciting.’

‘What’s more exciting than you?’ Sarah asked teasingly. I wondered how old she was. Somewhere in her thirties maybe? Something about the way they talked to each other made me feel like they didn’t know each other that well, as if they were just practising their niece and aunt roles. ‘Hey, have a good time, OK?’ She reached into her pocket and produced a ten-pound note. ‘Emergency money. Which I expect back when I see you tomorrow.’

Suzanne pocketed the cash, turning in her seat to me. ‘Ready?’

‘Thanks for the lift,’ I said to Sarah, opening the car door.

‘No problem. Nice to meet you, by the way.’

Unsure what to say to this, I smiled and nodded on my way out of the car. Suzanne swung her bag over her shoulder and looked expectantly at me. She was wearing tight dark jeans with a glittery cami top and heels. She could have passed for eighteen easily.

‘You look amazing,’ I couldn’t help saying, even though a second compliment really wasn’t necessary.

‘Thanks!’ she said again, unfazed. I started towards Rosie’s house and she followed.

‘How did you learn to do your make-up like that?’

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