Chapter Twenty-Five

When I Come Around

"Everybody stand back, give the girl some space," Linda instructs, sounding just like my mum, herding concerned guests away from me as I lay flat on the grass, now conscious.

Upon opening my eyes, Max and Mel and Linda and Libby, even Sophia had been above me, like a wheel of facial expressions. Some shocked. Some scared. Some slightly amused, like Mel once she realised I'd survive passing out.

"Can someone get a glass of water, please? Oh, and a wet cloth. There's some under the sink." Again, Linda acts as barrier between aunts and uncles and me, with my head now propped up under Max's folded, flannel shirt.

It smells like him.

He kneels beside me. Sophia and her hair peer over the top, Libby springing out to the side of her. I can see they're sharply elbowing each other passively and aggressively.

They start to bicker.

"I told you not to come round. God, you're such a bad omen. Bad shit just clings to you, doesn't it?"

Sophia brushes off her comments and continues to peer down, a flicker of concern noticeable in the way she bites the corner of her lip and how she reaches into her handbag. "Mum and dad said you weren't supposed to be here either. You're the one I caught sneaking out their bedroom window..."

"You're the one who was supposed to be up at Uni, forever. This isn't your home anymore," Libby spits, as Sophia pulls out a half-empty water bottle and offers it to me. "Oh christ, I'm going inside to get some proper water. Don't drink that, Josie. It's probably contaminated."

As she leaves in a huff, Sophia crouches low, resting her arm on top of Max's shoulder. "She think's I tell our parents about her sneaking out but I never do," she laughs softly, "It's kind of funny to see her get so riled up though."

I mumble something jumbled because it hurts my throat to talk.

"You should have a sip, if you can." It's Sophia again, offering me water like she's Mother Theresa come to rescue me.

Linda nods. "You really should darling, you're still awfully warm."

She's not wrong. I feel it all over. As if I've been raked over the earth's molten core.

Taking small sips, of which most dribbles down my chin, Max reaches out to receive a sopping wet cloth from his aunt Rita, which he wrings and gently places over my forehead. I want to grab at his wrist. I want to be taken away from here. Far, far away before the embarrassment truly kills me but I can't escape.

When I drag my elbows up, to sit, Sophia looks at me with pity, and says, "I'm Sophia by the way."

I try to say my name, but it just get's caught.

"This is Josie," Max speaks for me. "We go to the same college."

"Oh yeah, Libby mentioned a new friend," Sophia nods and Max nods and I just want to faint all over again.

The word friend hurts more than the ache of my bum hitting the hard ground. If I had more energy and less alcohol running through my veins I'd protest to it's meaning. But I don't.

"You went down like a sack of spuds," Mel says, a small paper bowl of potato salad in one hand. The smell of crispy bacon and spring onion makes me feel woozy again.

Linda checks my pulse until she too is satisfied that I'm out of harms way. "How much has she had to drink?"

"A few shots, a few beers," Max replies, talking over me like I'm not inches away.

"And maybe a pinch of whiskey..?" Mel says, like she knows she's going to get a telling off later. "Sorry, that was my doing, but in my defence, how was I supposed to know she can't handle her drink?"

"Shut up," Max says, kneeling still, bathing my forehead in cool cloth. "You're not helping."

"Well maybe if someone didn't go all goggly eyes for old Blondie during our first ever performance, maybe this wouldn't of happened."

"Blondie," I laugh, though it rips my throat. "Hah. Good one."

Sophia takes a big step back as Max and Mel start to argue and place blame, but their words whoosh past me, muffled.

My ears are ringing too much for me to pick out anything awful.

Linda continues to fuss and act as a referee until they cease fire and Mel stalks away, flipping him the finger.

"Do you need me to get anything?" Sophia asks, much to Libby's annoyance as she returns with a jug of water and a bucket in case I throw up.

"No. You can crawl back under the rock from where you came, bye," Libby says with so much venom it's surprise we all don't go down. But Sophia acts like she's used to it. Like it's totally normal.

"I suppose I should be getting back. You going to be okay?" She touches Max's shoulder again. He doesn't shake it off.

"We'll be fine, but thank you." When he shakes the water bottle, for her to take it she says no and that I can keep it, like the good samaritan I begrudgingly don't doubt she is.

I almost suspect that Libby is the big drama queen, jealous even of her big sister and how she is, which is frustratingly nice, even if she had been touching Max's shoulder too often.

"We should get you home too Josie," Linda says, taking my hand to help lift me as Max comes to my other side. "I've had one beer. I'll drive you back. Max, keep an eye on things whilst I'm gone, you know, so Mel doesn't trash the place or burn it down."

Max hugs my side. "I'm coming with you."

It feels nice. Having him close.

Linda sighs. "Fine, suppose it's a road trip, but both of you in the back seat, alright? And bring the bucket."

***

Half way home, or at least I hope it is because it feels like Max's mum has been driving for miles, I get a text from Libby.

It's hard to read the pixelated words, but I get the general gist: She's sorry. Really sorry for Sophia showing up and ruining everything. She's also sorry for fighting and shouting and she promises me she tried to give me a heads up, a warning.

The message sent before tells me she isn't lying.

"You both okay back there?" Linda asks, briefly turning her head before she resumes her position of pretending not to listen in, as if she's a celebrity private chauffeur, her eyes dead set on the road and not our slurred talk.

As Max sits next to me, brushing my hair away I realise that he can't quite look at me. Obviously this evening's left him rattled.

I just hope he's not mad at me.

Or maybe I'm mad at him.

I don't know. Everything just feels horribly off. Not helped by Sophia appearing like she'd stepped off the page of a magazine. All pointed features and silky hair and blue eyes, like every boys wet dream.

"Sophia's nice," I say, between hiccups.

He doesn't say anything. He just gazes out the window.

I cough and repeat myself louder. "I said: She was nice."

"Yeah, she's not quite the monster Libby makes her out to be." Finally, he speaks up but I'd rather he didn't. I don't want to hear that. It's obvious she's not. And she's way prettier than anyone had given her credit for.

Just thinking of her makes my throat sting. Her niceness tugs at my insides.

As I poke deep grooves into the plastic bag tied to the car door handle just in case I somehow fill up the bucket between my feet, I swing a shrug his way. "She must think I'm such a loser friend of yours."

Max winces at the obvious emphasis on friend. "I'm sure she doesn't and you're not a loser."

"Just your friend though, yeah?"

"You have nothing to worry about," he says, but it feels hollow.

"Liar."

Burying his face in his hand, Max sucks in a deep breath. "Well, you'd know."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I choke back, prodding the bag harder.

"Why we're you talking to Maddie the other day?"

It's my turn to bury my face in my hands. "Mel told you, lemme me guess."

"There's obviously things you're not telling me."

I start to scoff, "Well you never told me about what a bitch Maddie was and why you left school and why it sucked so much. You had all the time in the world to tell me, but you didn't."

Linda coughs loudly in the front seat, but doesn't turn round.

"I didn't want to bring up the past."

"But you could have told me."

"Well you could have told me that you're friends with Maddie now, chatting away like you are," he fires back, making my blood boil.

I am too drunk for this.

Much.

Instead I deflect. There's only a few roads until I'm home. "Okay. One: She's not my friend and Two: Why didn't you tell me that Sophia was back for the weekend? Surely that's a bigger betrayal? Right?"

"Because I didn't know, not really." His brow hardens and he shakes his head. "And it's not a betrayal."

"Not really?" I parrot back at him.

"Not until it was too late. If you must know, she sent me a text message a day ago about maybe coming home for her dad's birthday but she's always so flakey I thought she just wanted an excuse to talk to me, so I'd talk to her, because I don't want to. Because I have no interest there."

"I knew it. I knew you knew!"

"Well, you didn't because I just told you."

I pause, thinking about how annoyed I am but also how embarrassing it is to be arguing in front of his mum.

As the car slows to a stop and Linda unbuckles, I blow out a puff of air, as if to say yeah right and Max turns away from it.

"I'm over it!" I announce, stumbling to find my footing. "You lied. We're both, big ol' fat liars!"

Ignoring me, he takes the flannel shirt draped round my shoulders, helping me out the car and to my front door, where Linda apologises like she's begging my mum for a pardon.

Surprisingly my mum's pretty cool about it. She doesn't shout or wag her finger like I'd feared she might.

Linda and Max and I get off almost scot free, save for a small speech about being disappointed.

"Hope you feel better in the morning," Max says, as I'm traded back to my mum. He looks sad.

I feel bad. Awful. I just can't vocalise it because now I really do feel woozy. Like I really might just spill my guts.

He must really hate me.

And upstairs, after Linda and Max have left and mum wedges a plastic washbowl by my bed side, she gently pinches my cheek and checks my temperature.

"You're very clammy darling, why don't you keep that flannel on you."

"I know. I feel like crap that took a crap on a piece of crap mounted on another piece of crap."

My mum chuckles. "That's the drink speaking."

I roll over and clutch at my belly. "I wish it'd shut up."

"Let's just hope you had a good enough evening to make the miserable hangover in the morning all worth it."

As she turns out the light and closes the door half shut I whisper into the darkness that it wasn't.

Because now I'm back to being alone.