‘The thing is …’ She opens her eyes. ‘I know it’s a cliché or whatever, but life’s fucking short! That’s what Akash always said too. You can’t let your parents control you … You just can’t. You’ve got to … to … follow your heart. It’s cheesy but true.’
‘I know that!’ I tell her. ‘Why do you think I’m here?’
She laughs. ‘Yeah. Of course you know. I’m sorry. I just … I wish things were different. I wish we … you know, could find out more about what happened. I just want him to be proud of us both.’ She stubs her cigarette out on the grass. ‘Do you … do you think he is? Proud, I mean.’
I smile at her. ‘Yeah.’ I don’t need to even think about it. I know both Fi and me are doing him proud. ‘I don’t doubt it for a second.’
Fi smiles too.
This was the last place Fi saw Akash, on the night he disappeared. She was the last person to see him – as far as we know. I look around the garden, half expecting him to jump out on us, like I always do when we’re talking about him. It’s silly, I know, but I can’t help it. And, as always, I’m disappointed when he doesn’t. But then I see Josh.
‘Oh God, he’s here,’ I say, not meaning to say it out loud. He’s standing in the doorway, peering out into the garden and looking a bit lost. Is he searching for me? No, no. I’m being too hopeful.
‘Ahhh. Josssshhh! Oui!’ Fi grins. ‘What exactly is up with you guys?’
I glance at her. ‘What? Nothing! And keep your voice down!’ I’m suddenly very nervous. Which is ridiculous. It’s Josh. Just Josh. He looks over at us and we wave at him. ‘Just … stay here a minute, will you?’ I say quietly to Fi. ‘Don’t leave me.’
Fi stands up. Grimaces. ‘Ahh, I would if I could but I can’t – sorry! I’ve got to … go mingle.’ She snatches the plastic cup from my hand and knocks back my wine.
‘What! No!’ I hiss. ‘Stay, Fi!’
She shakes her head. ‘Just have fun!’ Grinning, she waves Josh over. ‘Good luck,’ she whispers before slipping away.
‘What the hell, Fi,’ I mumble, clutching the bottle of wine against my chest.
When Fi reaches Josh, she hugs him, and I feel a tiny bit jealous. What’s wrong with me? For a moment, I even think he’s going to go back inside with Fi, but then he starts walking over to me. I watch him carefully. He’s wearing a loose-fitting shirt and looks a bit smarter than usual. His hands are buried deep in the pockets of his jeans and his shoulders are hunched. Why does he look so awkward? He waves to some of the guys smoking at the end of the garden before sitting down next to me.
Oh God. My head’s spinning a bit. I shouldn’t have had so much wine. But, at the same time, I want some more.
‘Oh, hey!’ I say, keeping my voice as breezy as I can. It’s just Josh. No big deal. Right?
He smiles. ‘How’s it going?’ he mumbles. He’s looking at his feet and I can’t quite figure out his tone. But I notice he’s gelled his hair, the dark strands styled into a sort of wave at the front. Does that mean anything?
‘Yeah, yeah, I’m … good,’ I say, desperately trying to think of something witty or funny or just even a bit interesting to say. ‘You?’
‘Yeah. Good too.’
‘Cool.’
‘Cool.’
Oh God. Why is he being so weird? Maybe I imagined us flirting. It seems we can’t even have a normal conversation. We sit in silence for, like, a hundred years, listening to the music blaring out of the windows and the chatter and laughter of all the people who do know what to say to each other. I actually want to die. But I’m going to kill Fi first. Why did she have to leave us out here alone?
Finally, Josh looks at me. His green eyes are bright. He plays with some of the string bracelets round his wrist. ‘Is that wine?’ he asks. ‘Can I … maybe have some?’
‘Oh! Yeah. Sure.’ Without realizing it, I’ve unscrewed the cap of the bottle I’m holding. Fi walked off with my cup, so I gulp some down straight from the bottle, trying hard not to spill any. I hand it to Josh. He drinks too.
Then he points up at the sky so abruptly it makes me jump. What’s up with him? He’s usually so relaxed.
‘Sorry,’ he says, bringing his arm back down just as fast.
I laugh – one of those stupid forced laughs. Doesn’t even sound like a laugh. And Josh’s face goes bright red. Great. Nice one, Neena. He glances at me and then quickly looks back up at the sky, and I sort of wish I could ask him straight out: DO YOU LIKE ME OR NOT? But I’m too much of a wuss.
Josh clears his throat. ‘I was just going to say that … it’s a good night … to see the stars, I mean.’ He points up again, slower this time. ‘That there is Orion’s belt.’ His finger draws lines against the black sky, and I don’t really know what he’s pointing at. All I can see are loads of tiny stars all muddled together.
‘Right. Yeah,’ I say, taking the wine bottle from his hands. ‘I knew that.’
‘Oh. You did?’
I swig from the bottle. ‘Mmm-hmm. I mean, it’s not exactly rocket science, is it? Ha! Get it?’ It’s a lame joke – the lamest – but I don’t care. I’m desperate at this point and it works; he smiles and I’m a bit thrilled.
‘You can laugh if you want,’ I tell him, poking him gently in the ribs.
He grins properly now, his smile wide and a bit goofy, and I get butterflies that burst up from my stomach through to my chest. Maybe he does like me. This is what we’ve been like lately: a bit friendlier than usual, a bit jokier. I grin back at him, a proper, full-on ‘I’m so chuffed’ grin, which can’t be very attractive. I need to calm down.
‘Anyway …’ he continues. ‘Over there is the Plough …’
‘Mmm-hmm. Cool.’ I drink more wine. I wish he’d stop looking at the stars and look at me instead. He’s obsessed with astronomy. But last week, at another of Fi’s parties, he danced with us. And he never dances. Am I reading too much into that?
‘And there – that’s Cassiopeia.’
‘Ha! Now you’re just making up names … Here, have some more wine.’
He turns to face me and, again, his cheeks go red. ‘God, you’re not making this easy, are you?’
‘Huh? Making what easy?’ He doesn’t take the wine, so I drink some more instead. The redness spreads to the rest of his face and all down his neck. ‘Oh! Hang on. Were you …?’ I get it now. I thought he was just going off on one about the stars because he didn’t know what else to talk about. But no, this was flirting.
I laugh properly now. It’s actually quite funny.
He scratches his neck. ‘Look, Neens, I’m not very good at this …’
‘What? You?’ I say, in mock outrage. Josh has had a different girlfriend practically every year since primary school. How can he not be good at this? He scratches his neck again. Is he coming out in a rash?
I’m actually enjoying myself now. I thought I was the one who was awful at flirting, but surely even I can do better than that. I shift closer to him. He smells good. Well, of shower gel. But really nice-smelling shower gel.