LUKE
‘So . . .’ I said. ‘This is not how my nights out usually end.’
‘Or begin, I hope,’ Phoebe added.
‘No, exactly. At no point in the beginning, middle or end of my average night out do I normally end up in the family planning clinic. I swear.’
We both laughed awkwardly, and shuffled on the hard, uncomfortable, bright-orange chairs. It had been a pretty restless night’s sleep, and now, at the rarely experienced hour of 8 a.m., we were sat in the waiting area of the uni sexual health centre, which was all the way across campus.
‘Seriously, Phoebe. I’m really sorry. This is obviously quite, quite shit.’ I reached down to squeeze her hand: ‘Hope you’re OK?’
She squeezed back: ‘Yeah, ‘course, it’ll be all right. It’s not like we didn’t use protection. It’s just that the protection didn’t end up being as . . . protective as we’d have liked. I might get, y’know, tested, though. Just to be sure.’
‘What, for . . . if you’re pregnant?’
‘No, they give you the morning-after pill for that. I mean for, y’know . . .’ She lowered her voice. ‘STIs.’
‘Oh, right. Yeah, definitely. But I mean, that should be OK, shouldn’t it? I’ve only slept with one other person. And we were both each other’s first.’
What with all the condom terror, I hadn’t really had time to process what had actually happened last night. I had slept with someone else. Someone who wasn’t Abbey. It’s not like I didn’t know it was going to happen eventually, but now that it had, it still felt massive. Like things had changed permanently, and there was no going back.
There was a pause, while Phoebe studied – or pretended to study – a brochure called TEN THINGS YOU DIDN’T KNOW ABOUT CHLAMYDIA. Finally, she said: ‘Oh, right, so really? Abbey Baker’s the only girl you ever . . .?’
‘Well, yeah.’ I shrugged. ‘We went out more than three years. Started going out when I was fifteen.’
Phoebe nodded. It felt weird talking to her about Abbey. It felt weird even thinking about Abbey, to be fair. I’d been trying not to think about her at all over the past week. Which had actually been surprisingly easy. Worryingly easy. Every time she popped into my head, it was like my brain automatically chucked her straight back out again.
I knew I should tell her what was going on. Especially now me and Phoebe had actually slept together. But telling Abbey the truth hadn’t exactly worked out over the past few weeks. Telling Abbey the truth had done nothing but cause us both fuckloads of misery. So telling Abbey the truth didn’t really seem like a viable option.
Phoebe was flicking absently through the Chlamydia brochure. Or not ‘brochure’. Leaflet, I guess. ‘Brochure’ makes it sound like Chlamydia is a holiday resort.
‘How about you, then?’ I asked. ‘Y’know, since we’re being honest.’
She dropped the leaflet, and held up two fingers. Then she said, ‘Well, actually, now, it’s . . .’ She added another finger.
‘Oh yeah? Who are the other lucky guys, then, eh?’
She blushed, smiling. ‘Do you remember Adam Kramer? And Max Fulda?’
‘Er . . .’ For a second I could only focus on the fact she hadn’t said Will’s name. I had to make a conscious effort to actually respond. ‘Don’t remember Adam, but I had Art with Max in Year Eleven, He was seriously good.’
‘Yeah.’ She nodded. ‘He’s at Goldsmith’s now. We sort of went out for a couple of months just before school ended.’
‘You didn’t think about trying to make it work long-distance?’
‘Not really. I guess we both thought it would be better to meet some new people.’
‘Well, you’ve done a great job there,’ I said, and we both laughed, drawing irritated glances from the other people in the waiting room.
A lady with a clipboard bounded in and called, ‘Phoebe Bennet?’ I gave Phoebe another hand-squeeze, and she got up and followed her out. I sat there reading about Chlamydia and wondering whether I should try to call Abbey at some point. Or at least message her. Just to make sure she was OK. The thought suddenly occurred to me that, if I didn’t, we might never speak to each other again. Would I be all right with that? It’s like, you go through all this stuff with somebody – grow up together, basically – and then, one day, they’re out of your life for ever. There’s nothing else that goes from a hundred to zero that quickly. With mates, you just drift apart slowly, or whatever: you never actually say, ‘We’re not friends any more’ or ‘Our friendship’s over’. But with girlfriends it’s like it’s everything and then, suddenly, it’s nothing. Is that how it always happens? In three years’ time would Phoebe just be another person I never spoke to any more?
Finally, Phoebe came back into the waiting area. ‘She gave me the morning-after pill, and I took the test,’ she said. ‘So, hopefully, all good.’
We walked out into the sharp, cold, morning sunlight to see Will heading straight towards us. I felt a little spasm of panic, but it was way too late to try and avoid him. He was with his housemate: that Josh bloke who worked in Bettys with Phoebe.
Josh was smiling. Will wasn’t.
‘All right, you two,’ Josh said brightly. ‘Top night last night. I thought we did the emergency services proud.’ I noticed him and Will were both staring down at my hands, which I thought was a bit weird until I realized I was still holding the Chlamydia leaflet. I stuffed it into my pocket, and Josh hitched an eyebrow: ‘Having an eventful morning?’
Phoebe shuffled her feet, and laughed. I stayed silent and so did Will, so Josh filled the awkwardness by murmuring: ‘Ooookay then.’
I could feel Will’s eyes on me, but he didn’t say anything.
‘Where are you lot off to, then?’ I asked, trying to sound casual.
‘Library.’ Josh grimaced. ‘Got essays in for tomorrow, and we can’t work at ours because the boiler’s fucked and it’s freezing.’ He half-smiled at Will. ‘And the landlord here won’t sort it, so . . .’
Will shot him a half-smile back, but the annoyance in it was obvious. I realized I hadn’t actually chatted to Will about the house stuff since he’d first mentioned it. I needed to get that sorted. My corridor chemists had literally already found their place for next year, and signed the contract.
Another chasm of awkwardness opened up, and Josh scratched his head and chucked one more ‘Oooookay then’ into it. I’d only met him a couple of times, when we were out and pissed, but he seemed like a really good bloke. I was massively glad he was here right now, anyway. Just me, Will and Phoebe would have been genuinely unbearable. Josh grinned at Phoebe: ‘You working Friday, Bennet?’
‘Ten to four.’ She nodded.
‘Cool. Well, see you both later, then,’
‘See you at three, right?’ I said to Will. He nodded without making eye contact, and they both walked off.
‘Have you got a match this afternoon, then?’ Phoebe asked, as we headed back towards Jutland.
‘Yeah. Leeds. Apparently they’re pretty good.’
‘Right . . .’
I wondered if we were ever actually going to talk about Will directly. But then, maybe there was nothing to talk about. Maybe there was no awkwardness. Maybe I was just being paranoid.
Coming off the pitch later, after Leeds had effortlessly battered us 6–1, I tried to catch up to Will, but he marched straight off into the changing rooms.
Trev fell into step alongside me. ‘He’s not exactly a good loser, is he?’
‘Guess not.’
‘Their third goal was his fault, to be fair.’
That was definitely true, but I wasn’t convinced that was what was bothering him.
‘Dunno why we even turned up today, to be honest,’ Trev sighed, wiping his forehead with his sleeve. ‘It was pretty demoralizing.’
‘I dunno. I still enjoy it, actually, even when we get beaten.’
‘You’re weird, Taylor.’
‘Thanks, mate. Your goal was good, at least.’
He ruffled his sweaty hair. ‘Yeah, cheers. When you’re five foot six you get an added buzz off scoring a header. You out tonight, then?’
‘Probably, yeah.’ I shrugged.
He grinned at me. ‘Try not to sound too excited, mate.’
Wednesday night was Sports Night, which basically meant the whole squad went into town together, got shitfaced, and ended up in some kebab shop, where Dempers would invariably get us chucked out by performing a lewd act with the condiments.
I’d usually arrive at every match with some bulletproof excuse about why I wouldn’t be able to come out afterwards, but when it came down to it, I never had the guts to bail out. I always secretly suspected that Trev knew how I felt. Because I secretly suspected he felt it, too.
Back in the changing room, Will was already stuffing his kit into his rucksack while Dempers banged on about some photo on the group chat.
‘Wicks should be banned for life for that one,’ he yelled, hurling his water bottle across the room.
‘It’s true, she was a fucking munter, Wicks,’ said Geordie Al. ‘I’m surprised your camera didn’t break.’
Wicks – a tall, blond, extremely self-satisfied second year – held his hands up and said, ‘Her face was ropey, but trust me, boys, the tits were amazing.’
‘Well, next time, let’s have a shot of her tits, then,’ said Dempers.
Will zipped his bag up and his eyes fell on me. ‘Have you checked the Wall today, Taylor?’
‘No, haven’t seen it,’ I said.
Geordie Al leant across and showed me the photo on his phone. Another girl lying asleep in a messy bedroom. Not knowing she was having her picture taken. Not knowing she was being passed around a changing room.
I nodded and said, ‘Huh,’ which I’m pretty sure wasn’t the desired reaction, but was the only thing I could think of.
Geordie Al cocked an eyebrow at me. ‘Swifty obviously doesn’t think she’s that bad.’
‘He’s a fresher,’ bellowed Dempers. ‘He’ll fuck anything that moves!’
Everyone laughed again, but Will was still looking at me, with a weird, cold smile on his face. When the laughter died down, he said: ‘No, seriously, though, Taylor. Now that you and Phoebe Bennet are a thing, you’ve got to get a photo up on the Wall. Bit unacceptable to still be on zero pictures six weeks into first term.’
I felt my face heating up as everyone turned to look at me.
‘Told you that girlfriend-from-home thing wouldn’t last, didn’t I?’ Will smirked.
‘No, no, it’s not like that,’ I said. ‘Honestly, me and Phoebe are just . . . mates.’
‘Oh, really,’ Will scoffed. ‘Cos, obviously, I go to the sex clinic with all my mates.’
‘Mate, nice one,’ cackled Dempers. ‘Pregnant or herpes? Or both?’
Will ignored this and turned back to me. ‘Seriously though, Luke, mate. When’s the Phoebe photo going up?’
Trev caught my eye, and then looked away. Me and him were pretty much the only ones who didn’t comment on the photos.
‘Honestly, man, it isn’t like that,’ I stuttered. ‘I’m still with Abbey. From home.’
‘Stick up a photo of Abbey From Home, then,’ said Geordie Al, and everyone cracked up. I laughed along with them, hating them, but hating myself slightly more.
Will shrugged, like he was bored of the whole conversation now. He pulled his rucksack over his shoulder. ‘Oh, well, whatever. I’m sure Phoebe Bennet will find her way on to the Wall somehow.’
And before I could process that properly, he yelled: ‘Hurry up, then, you fucking girls. Taxis into town!’