Not even for Jules.
A twenty-minute walk to the far side of the park, butter-coloured sun smeared on the grass between the shadows of the trees, then Ryan was there, ducking in through the side gate in order to skip the crowd out front. There was a half-arsed ice bin by the tap – not that there was any ice in it, just the end of the hose, a six pack and a couple of bottles with their labels soaked off. Lifting one out, Ryan cracked the lid on the tap and sucked up the foam.
The key to arriving late was to saunter in like he’d been there from the beginning.
The kitchen was buzzier than the garden – some lads cluttering up the sink and a group of Buckthorn familiars getting rowdy at the table. Ryan swiped a bag of Haribo from the pile and stuffed it in his back pocket for later. Ignoring the people at the table, he made his way towards the door, aiming for family privileges in the nook.
He made it all of two steps before a girl lunged off the doorframe and landed right in front of his face.
“Ryan, right?”
“Uh huh.”
He leaned back and tried to take her all in – which was hard because there seemed to be a lot of her. Not physically so much as just … energetically. Her clothes were three times brighter than anything else in the room and the spotlights glinted off a smile that was as much metal as teeth.
“Do we know each other?” he asked. Girls didn’t usually look this pleased to see him.
“We do now. I’m Sunny. Same school, different year. Anyway, I know someone looking for you.” To Ryan’s delight, she grabbed his arm and in full view of everyone in the kitchen, dragged him across the floor and into the dining room.
“Umm… OK, hold up.” Ryan dug his heels into the thick pile of the carpet, wary there was some kind of humiliation waiting for him on the other side of the door that led into the hall. “Look, you’re cute and all—” His companion punched him in the bicep. “Ow! What the fuck?”
“There are a million flattering words out there. Choose any except that one.”
“I wasn’t paying you a compliment.” A lie. “I was trying to ask what you’re playing at.”
Whatever joy he’d felt at having Sunny drag him in here soured to resentment as Ryan rubbed his arm where she’d struck. That had hurt.
“I’m not playing at anything,” Sunny said.
“Then why’d you say you were looking for me, Sunny from a different year?”
Her eyes and lips narrowed like she suspected he was taking the piss. Which he might have been – taking the piss was his default setting.
“Look, it’s a long story, but basically, there’s a package for you.”
“Expand on that.” Ryan set his beer down on the sideboard and took the Haribo out of his pocket. A moment after opening it he held the bag out to Sunny as a peace offering. No hesitation – Sunny dived in, muttering, “These are the same ones we brought!”
“Who’s we?”
“Me and Win.”
“Again with the who?”
“My sister.”
“Let me know when you plan on making sense.”
“Let me know when you plan on shutting up long enough for me to explain.”
Ryan smiled, a barely-there tug in his lips. He liked her.
One second’s pause and she was off.
“This morning Sophie got a parcel. Inside was one addressed to my sister and inside that was one addressed to Lucas…”
So many names, so little information. Although if her sappy little sigh was anything to go by, then Sunny from a different year was well into whoever this Lucas was.
“Inside his parcel was one with your name on. Ryan Krikler.”
“I know my name.”
She gave him a second-long stare. “Yay. Sarcasm.”
Ryan popped another Haribo to hide his smile, then, “You mentioned a Sophie. Which one?”
He knew at least three.
“Charbonneau.”
Ryan froze.
“Who sent this parcel?”
“Freya Newmarch.” Sunny cocked her head to the side, a calculated innocence to the way she said, “Aren’t the two of you friends?”
Ryan took another long swig of his beer before he set it back down.
“Absolutely not.”
October – 86 days before Freya left
Between the two of them, Ryan and Jules had been very good at dodging Auntie Lou’s Sunday dinner for the last four weeks – but they couldn’t avoid it for ever. Mam gave them both a once over, making Ryan change into jeans rather than joggers and grunting her approval of Jules’ neutral, muted outfit of skinny jeans and white shirt. No make-up, no jewellery, hair tied back into an unremarkable ponytail, the dye through the ends left to fade for this week.
“It’s been ages since we’ve been over…” Mam started as she locked up, handing Ryan a carrier bag containing a bottle of wine that still had the sticker on it from the newsagent. Ryan reached in to peel it off. “What with Jules’ band practice and you getting sick”– her offspring exchanged a flicker of a glance – “Lou’ll start thinking we’re avoiding her.”
“Auntie Lou’s not the problem,” Ryan muttered.
“Not this again!” Mam’s voice was sharp enough that the old couple they walked past gave her a startled look. “I don’t know what happened between you and Kellan over the summer – you practically lived there for half of it and now all you do is snark about him.”
Summer had been an odd one. Years he’d known Freya – just another girl he went to school with. Although maybe there had been something more there, recently. The two had got into a way of talking that felt more playful than hostile … then she saw Kellan. And Kellan saw her. Both of them had been as bad as the other, thinking they were being subtle about the way they were using him – the bridge between Freya’s Buckthorn lot and Kellan’s Campion crowd. Maybe it hadn’t been so hard spending lazy days in the park and nights on the noz, a summer of half-started barbecues and never-ending game play feeling like people actually wanted him around.
Only as a charity case, though. As soon as his cousin and Freya got together, the charity stopped – and Ryan resented both of them for it. He and Kellan could barely be civil without supervision and Freya wound him up just by existing.
Now he’d be sitting across the table from both the fuckers.
At least with Freya there, Kellan would be on his best behaviour when it came to Jules.
When Mam wasn’t at work, the only time she didn’t spend on the phone to her sister was when she was in her house, but Auntie Lou greeted the three of them like she’d not seen them since last Christmas, with squeals and kisses and more love than Ryan knew what to do with. Steering them into the conservatory, she introduced Mam and Jules to “Kellan’s lovely girlfriend, Freya”, who looked like she’d come dressed for work experience as a teacher.
“Ryan not getting a mention?” rumbled Uncle Tim, from the corner chair. “Or are we finally excommunicating him?”
“Him and Freya go to the same school.”
From Freya’s face it was clear she wished they didn’t, but Kellan squeezed her knee, giving Ryan the smile of a satisfied shark.