Julia snorts. ‘Your mother would be delighted. If you can convince her that you were heading to a gang bang in a coke den, you’ll make her year.’ Becca is not what her parents had in mind. Usually she practically curls into a ball when they come up.
‘Yeah, but having to find me a new school would be hassle. They’d have to fly home and everything. And they hate hassle.’ Becca shoves the scarf back in her bag. ‘So they actually would completely freak out. And I still don’t care. I want to go out.’
‘Look at that,’ Julia says, amused, leaning back on one hand to examine Becca. ‘Look who’s got ballsy all of a sudden. Good for you, Becs.’ She raises the cup. Becca shrugs, embarrassed. ‘Look: I’m so on for an original sin. But could we please make it, like, a good one? Call me a *, but getting expelled in exchange for what, exactly? Getting a cold up my gee sitting on a lawn where I can already sit any day I want to? Not exactly my idea of a good time.’
Selena knew Julia would be the hardest to convince. ‘Look,’ she says, ‘I’m scared of getting caught too. My dad wouldn’t care if I got expelled, but my mum would lose her mind. But I’m so sick of being scared of stuff. We need to do something we’re scared of.’
‘I’m not scared. I’m just not stupid. Can’t we just, like, dye our hair purple or—’
‘Totally original,’ Holly says, flicking an eyebrow.
‘Yeah, fuck you. Or have a twitch every time we talk to Houlihan—’
Even to Julia it sounds weaksauce. ‘That’s not scary,’ Becca says. ‘I want something scary.’
‘I liked you better before you grew a pair. Or, I don’t know, Photoshop Menopause McKenna’s head onto a still from “Gangnam Style” and stick it on the—’
‘We’ve already done stuff like that before,’ Selena points out. ‘It has to be different. See? It’s harder than it sounds.’
‘What are we even going to do out there?’
Selena shrugs. ‘I don’t know yet. Maybe nothing special. That’s not even the point.’
‘Right. “Sorry I got expelled, Mum, Dad, I actually don’t have a clue what I was even doing out there, but dyeing my hair purple wasn’t original enough—”’
‘Hi,’ says Andrew Moore. He’s grinning down at them from between two matching mates, like they were expecting him, like they beckoned him over. Becca realises: it’s the way they’re all sprawled on the fountain-edge, loose, legs outstretched, leaning back on their hands. It counts as an invitation.
And Andrew Moore answered, Andrew Moore Andrew Moore all rugby shoulders and Abercrombie and those super-blue eyes that everyone talks about. The rush comes first, the breathtaking tingling surge like sweetness and bubbles cascading onto their tongues. It’s Oh God does he could he is it me, exploding up your spine. It’s his broad hands glowing now that they could wind around yours, his hard-cut mouth electric with maybe kisses. It’s you snapping to sit just right, offering up boobs and legs and everything you have, cool and casual and heart slamming. It’s you and Andrew Moore sauntering hand in hand down the endless neon corridors, king and queen of the Court, every girl turning at once to gasp and envy. ‘Hi,’ they say up to him, dazzled, and shiver when he sits down on the fountain-edge beside Selena, when his sidekicks flank Julia and Holly. This is it, this is the trumpet-blast and all flags flying that ever since the first of first year the Court has been promising, this is its magic finally unveiled and theirs for the taking.
And then it’s gone. Andrew Moore is just some guy who actually none of them even like.
‘So,’ he says, smiling, and leans back to enjoy the adoration.
Holly says, before she knows she’s going to, ‘We’re in the middle of a conversation here. Give us a sec.’
Andrew laughs, because obviously that was a joke. His sidekicks join in. Julia says, ‘No, seriously.’
The sidekicks are still laughing, but it’s dawning on Andrew that he’s having a brand-new experience. ‘Whoa,’ he says. ‘Are you, like, telling us to get lost?’
‘Come back in five minutes,’ Selena offers. ‘We just need to work something out.’
Andrew is still smiling, but those super-blue eyes aren’t nice any more. He says, ‘Group PMS, yeah?’
‘OMG, that’s so weird,’ Holly says. ‘We were just talking about originality. You’re not into it, no?’
Julia snorts into Becca’s gingerbread drink. ‘And we were just talking about how half of Kilda’s is dykes,’ Andrew says. ‘You’re not into guys, no?’
‘Can we stay and watch?’ one of the sidekicks asks, grinning.
‘I’m so confused,’ Julia says. ‘You guys never want to actually have conversations with each other? You only hang out together so you can swap blowjobs?’
‘Hey,’ the other sidekick says. ‘Fuck off.’
‘OhmyGod, great chat-up line,’ says, of all the people in the whole world, Becca. ‘I totally fancy you now.’
Julia and Holly and Selena stare at her and start to laugh. After a stunned second, Becca does too.
‘Who gives a fuck who you fancy?’ the sidekick demands. ‘Ugly bitch.’
‘That’s rude,’ Selena says, trying so hard to be serious through the giggles that she makes the others even worse.
‘Shoo,’ says Julia, waving. ‘Bah-bye.’
‘You’re freaks,’ Andrew tells them, with finality; he’s much too secure to be wounded, but he disapproves deeply. ‘You need some serious attitude adjustment. Come on, guys.’
And he and his sidekicks get up and stride off down the Court, with guys scattering and girls gazing in their wake. Even their arses look displeased.
‘OhmyGod,’ Selena says, hand over her mouth. ‘Did you see his face?’
‘Once we finally got through to him,’ Julia says. ‘I’ve explained things to fish faster,’ which hits them all with another tornado of laughter. Becca is clutching a branch of Christmas tree to stop herself falling off the fountain-edge.
‘The walk,’ Holly manages, pointing after the guys, ‘look, look how they’re walking, it’s like Our balls are just too huge for those chicks to handle, they don’t even fit between our legs—’
Julia jumps up and does the walk, and Becca actually does fall off the fountain-edge, and they scream so loud with laughter that the security guard comes over to frown at them. Holly tells him Becca has epilepsy and if he throws her out he’ll be discriminating against the disabled, and he drifts off again, still frowning over his shoulder but without a lot of conviction.
Finally the giggles ebb. They look at each other, still grinning, amazed at themselves, shaken by their own daring.
‘Now that was original,’ Julia tells Selena. ‘You have to admit. And, let’s face it, kind of scary.’
‘Exactly,’ Selena says. ‘Do you want to keep on being able to do that? Or do you want to go back to almost wetting yourself if Andrew Moore even notices you exist?’
The heliumy woman is finishing up ‘All I Want for Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth’. In the second before ‘Santa Baby’ kicks in, Holly catches a flash of another song, just half a brushstroke of it somewhere far away, maybe outside the Court: I’ve got so far, I’ve got so far left to— and gone.
Julia sighs and holds out her hand for Becca’s gingerbread thing. She says, ‘If you think I’m sliding down a bedsheet out our window like some chick in a shit movie, you are so very fucking wrong.’
‘I don’t,’ Selena says. ‘You heard what Hol’s dad said. The front windows aren’t alarmed.’