“Aren’t you going to say hi?” he asks, as though he just saw me yesterday. I tighten my fists around the glasses.
“Danny said you were back.”
This has the desired effect. Tay flinches.
I sip my pint, not knowing what to say.
“Can we talk?” he says. “Somewhere quiet?”
“I don’t think there is anywhere quiet.” Beyoncé has turned into Katy Perry. All I want to do is get out of here. Where the hell is Lara?
“I need to find my friend.”
Tay looks around. “What does she look like?”
“Skinny, long mousy brown hair,” I say, which pretty much describes most of the girls in here.
But we don’t have to look for long. She’s at the other end of the bar, and she’s not alone. She’s with Dillon.
Where do all these people keep coming from? Did Lara know he was here? I honestly thought he was at home in bed.
“Shit,” I say.
Tay stiffens beside me. He must recognize Dillon from the party at the Point.
“Let’s get out of here,” Tay says, taking the pints from my hand and placing them on the bar. He grabs my wrist and we start to walk out, but it’s too late.
Dillon blocks our entrance, and Lara stands next to me. She looks upset.
Before I can say anything, Dillon gets right up to Tay and punches him in the nose. Even with Katy Perry blaring out about how she kissed a girl, I hear the crack.
“Fuck,” Tay says into his hands, bent over.
I’m too shocked to move. Dillon just stands there panting, holding his fist, blowing on it.
“Take the fight outside,” someone yells.
“What the hell are you doing?” I shout to Dillon.
Then Tay stands up and throws a punch back. He catches Dillon under his chin, and Dillon staggers back, knocking his head against the door.
Lara goes to him. “He’s bleeding,” she wails. “We need an ambulance.”
This is all too surreal.
“You just hit my brother,” I say to Tay.
Tay’s nose is bleeding all over his shirt. “He started it.”
We all go outside. Lara is completely hysterical, fussing over Dillon, checking his head for cuts, and yelling for someone to call an ambulance. Tay and Dillon pace about, trying to stop their bleeds, staring each other out. The air out here isn’t much cooler than the sweatbox we just came out of.
“Christ, Dillon, we were only talking,” I explain.
I go to him and look at the cut on his chin. It’s pretty small. It could have been a lot worse. Dillon is taller, but Tay definitely has the muscles.
“I’m going home,” I say to all of them. “Thanks for a lovely evening.”
“You can’t leave us,” Lara wails, indicating herself and Dillon.
“Elsie, wait,” Dillon says. “I’ll take you home.”
I shake my head and walk off. My flip-flops don’t make for a very dignified exit, but it doesn’t matter too much, because before I have a chance to look back, Tay is next to me, bundling me onto a passing bus.
He drags me to the spare seats at the back, and all I can do is sit down before I fall down. I have a few tissues in my pocket, so I give them to him. He nods thank you and holds them up to his nose. He’s got a black eye, too. That was some punch.
“What just happened?” I ask.
“Your crazy brother punched me in the face.”
“I wasn’t asking for a literal explanation. And don’t call him crazy.”
“Sorry.”
“Seriously, what just happened?”
Tay inspects the bloody tissue and frowns. “I have no idea. One minute I was talking to you, the next I was in a fight.”
I catch sight of our reflections. We look ridiculous, Tay all bloody, and me all hot and sweaty. I can’t help but laugh.
“What?” Tay asks. He folds the tissue in half and puts it back to his nose.
“Great night, huh?”
He takes my hand. “One of the best.”
The boathouse no longer smells of weed, just damp wood and moss. We sit in our usual corner on one of the blankets. The bleeding seems to have stopped, and Tay’s face is now caked in dried blood. I try not to wince every time I look at him. His eye socket is a deep purple and all swollen.
“Let’s get one thing straight here: I’m not on your side. You hit him, too. I’m only here with you because you kidnapped me.”
“Did I force you to come to the boathouse?”
“Why did my brother hit you?”
Tay doesn’t answer the question for a long time. He breathes deeply and picks at his face, his hand trembling. It must be the shock.
“Maybe he thought I was someone else?” he says. “Or he really doesn’t want you to have a boyfriend.”
“But I haven’t got a boyfriend, have I?” I reply. “I’m so confused, Tay. I don’t know what you want from me. You disappear and then just turn up again, and what? You want to pick up where we left off? Pretend that you didn’t leave?”
“No, it’s not like that, Elsie.”
He’s back to calling me Elsie. It feels so cold, so impersonal.
“I left because I had to. I’m messed up—I do bad things. I came back because I miss you.”