Читать книгу Gemini Rising - Tanya Byrne, Holly Bourne, Eleanor Wood - Страница 13

The rest of the week at school is pretty weird, after what happened to Amie, but I keep my head down and will it to go quickly. I’ve been waiting for this weekend for so long, I just keep my face buried in a book and my eyes on the prize.

On Saturday night, I rock up at the Arts Centre bang on time, in shiny new American Apparel leggings and my old Trouble Every Day T-shirt. And, of course, I’m the only one here. Typical. It’s my birthday, and I’m the one hanging around waiting. Still, I’m not going to get stressed about it because I have hit the birthday jackpot this year – not only is my birthday on a Saturday, but this weekend heralds the start of half term. Then there’s the added stroke of rare luck that has meant Trouble Every Day are playing here on my actual birthday. Best present imaginable, frankly.

I’ve already had a pretty good day – my mum let me sleep in undisturbed until a relatively civilised hour; we had pancakes for breakfast, and pizza and birthday cake for lunch; and, as well as the new leggings and other bits from my mum, Pete bought me the Alfred Hitchcock DVD boxed set – enough to keep me going for months – and Daisy gave me a really cool headband from Topshop.

Now, outside the Arts Centre, I hang about until finally Shimmi appears. She couldn’t look any more out of place if she tried. She’s done up as serious jailbait in her knee-high boots and tiny dress; her parents are usually so strict that, whenever she gets out of the house, she goes crazy and rebels in every possible way she can. As she picks her way over to me, Shimmi doesn’t even appear to have noticed that she’s drowning in a sea of ripped plaid and dirty denim on all sides. My own Converse might be the same as everyone else’s in the vicinity, but there’s a reason for that – my friend is not going to be much good in the mosh pit.

‘Some of the guys here would be quite hot if they had a wash!’ she exclaims loudly, giving me a kiss on the cheek. ‘Happy birthday, babe.’

The only thing that sucks about the otherwise perfect timing of my birthday is that it means Nathalie isn’t here. She’s been shipped off to Dubai with her mum for half term – no arguments. Excited as I am, it’s a shame Nathalie isn’t here tonight.

Anyway, more to the point: Trouble Every Day. They’re my favourite band in the world and, better yet, they’re sort of local. They’ve had a couple of singles played on 6 Music and have had a few write-ups in the NME, so people all over the place have heard of them, but they’re only a few years older than us and from a couple of towns away. Their song Everything and Nothing is my favourite song of all time, and I am officially In Love with their singer, Vincent August. He is, basically, the ideal man, in my humble, and admittedly limited, opinion. He writes all of the band’s lyrics, so is clearly amazingly sensitive and intelligent, is brilliant on vocals and guitar, and has the most beautiful face in the known galaxy.

Everyone at school knows exactly how much I love Trouble Every Day and, more specifically, Vincent August. So much so that I’m not even pretending to be cool tonight. I am so excited my stomach’s fizzing like I’ve ingested a whole tube of Berocca.

‘Oh my God, I can’t believe we haven’t seen them live since last year. Do you even realise, they hadn’t released Promises Written on Water then? It was brand new on their website last month. So, if they play it tonight, it’ll be the first time we’ve heard it live!’

‘Big wow. Hysterical much?’ Shimmi mutters.

We’ve had our hands stamped and are about to go into the venue when Shimmi stops statue-still. ‘OK, don’t look now – but right behind us, five o’clock…’

Of course, I automatically swivel around to look, but Shimmi grabs me. ‘I said don’t look, you moron! Look at me, read my lips: right behind us, weirdo twins, hockey massacre alert!’

‘No way!’Sure enough, the twins are sitting on a bench across from us, peering intently into the depths of Elyse’s bag.

‘Dare me to go and talk to them?’

‘Shimmi, come on, we’ll miss the —’ There’s little to no point in me finishing my sentence.

‘Hey,’ Shimmi greets them. ‘Mucho impressed by your moves on the hockey pitch this week – serve that snotty cow Amie Bellend right.’

‘Didn’t you hear, it was an “accident”,’ Elyse drawls. ‘She is a snotty cow, though.’

‘She’s the worst of the lot. Good thing you’re not friends with her any more…’

‘Yeah, it turned out we didn’t really have a whole lot in common. You’re Shimmi, right?’ Elyse grins. ‘Hey, Sorana – nice T-shirt.’

‘Um, thanks?’

I can’t work out if Elyse is making fun of me or not – probably because my gut instinct is that everybody is, all of the time – until she opens up her old army jacket to display the fact that she’s wearing the exact same one.

And that’s it. We’re off – all about how Elyse loves Trouble Every Day as much as I do, and so does Melanie. As we babble excitedly, it feels for a second like someone gets it. Then Shimmi starts to join in and I nearly burst out laughing, because I have never heard her so jazzed about Trouble Every Day in my whole life. I mean, Shimmi listens to Mariah’s greatest hits.

‘Oh, yeah, me too. Totally, deffo. My favourite one’s… What’s it called, again, Sorana? Something about “dead leaves in the winter” or some shit like that.’

‘Dead Flowers in the Fireplace!’ Elyse and I chant in chorus.

Then we all do burst out laughing. On the door, Shimmi and I show our hand stamps while the twins hand over their tickets, but instead of going straight ahead into the venue, Elyse immediately veers left and up the stairs.

‘Where are we going?’ I ask Elyse. ‘The gig’s downstairs.’

‘Yeah, I know – but the bar’s upstairs. Trouble Every Day won’t be on until nine, nine-thirty at the earliest. I’m not really up for seeing some crappy local support band called…’ she consults her ticket ‘…Mission to Mars, thanks very much.’

Tonight’s gig is an all-ages night, but the Arts Centre hosts all sorts of different events and the bar is still over-eighteens only – I know, from having come here to see a Polly Stenham play with my mum last year, that the upstairs bar is a candle-lit cavern with a small balcony overlooking the stage. When we walk in now, it’s a different proposition altogether. It’s still dark, lit only by candles and fairy lights – but it’s noisy and full of cool people, mostly a bit older than us as all the younger kids are downstairs.

This is where, left to my own devices, I would hover in the doorway for a moment before turning back down the stairs, defeated. Elyse pushes her way through the crowd and straight up to the bar. I follow her without question.

‘A bottle of house red and four glasses, please.’

‘Thanks,’ I say as she hands me a brimming glass – as much for saving me from having to order, as for the drink itself.

‘Cheers,’ Elyse replies, holding up her glass in a toast and grinning around the group.

‘Cheers,’ we all echo.

‘And happy birthday, Sorana!’ Shimmi adds.

As soon as Shimmi says this, Elyse appears to be suspended, mid-motion, in mid-air. Then, gradually, her face comes back to life and she looks over to Melanie, then at me. Once her eyes have locked on me, they don’t move away again. It’s like being trapped in oncoming headlights on the motorway.

‘It’s your birthday? Today?’

I nod.

‘And you’re seventeen?’

‘Yes,’ I say, wondering if I’m missing the point somewhere along the line here.

‘So you’re a Gemini?’

‘Yeah…’

‘Well, why didn’t you say so?’ Elyse suddenly begins cackling with manic laughter and envelops me in a huge hug. ‘Trouble Every Day are playing tonight and it’s your birthday and we all bumped into each other – it really is a sign! Here’s to your birthday, Sorana! Here’s to you!’

Just as Elyse predicted, we can hear from here that Mission to Mars are pretty dire. We chat and drink our wine and don’t pay too much attention. But as soon as the support set has finished, I’m starting to get antsy. I finish my drink and watch helplessly as other gangs of girls stake out their places at the front, sitting down cross-legged on the floor to bag the space.

‘Elyse…’

Elyse smiles into my eyes and holds up a hand to stop Shimmi halfway through an anecdote about the time her brother grew marijuana plants in their dad’s greenhouse without him noticing.

‘Come on. It’s time for Trouble Every Day!’

We’re spinning and jumping and whirling and dancing and screaming along with every word. I can feel the bass going all the way through me, from the soles of my feet, and it’s the best feeling because it’s all my favourite songs; it’s the music I love and it’s my birthday and I’m unexpectedly surrounded by friends. Vincent August is hotter than a thousand suns and the band seem to be playing harder than I have ever seen before.

I’m dancing with Elyse, both of us singing along and utterly unself-conscious, when I feel eyes on me, the distinct sensation out of nowhere that I am being watched. I look up, and see a boy staring at me. I come to a total standstill for a moment as the music fades away and rings like silence in my ears.

It takes me a moment to register that he’s the most beautiful boy I have ever seen – like a Kurt Cobain or a Robert Pattinson – you have to look through a thin layer of grunge before you notice the perfect bones underneath. The sort of heartbreaking face you could hang on a charm bracelet or keep in your box of special things under your bed. He’s leaning against the wall, standing apart from the crowd. His hair is flopping in his eyes and he is looking through it and right at me.

‘Earth to Sorana!’ Elyse yells in the direction of my ear and seizes my arm. ‘You all right?’

‘Yeah…’

My heart sinks – I am standing next to the most beautiful blonde the Arts Centre, if not the world, has ever seen. I couldn’t help but feel like we had a moment back there, but he was probably looking at Elyse. When I look back, he is gone.

I try to forget it, and just keep dancing. Way too soon, before I know it, it’s all over.

‘Listen,’ Elyse says to Shimmi and me as soon as the music stops, she and Mel hugging both of us. ‘We’ve got to run and get our lift. See you soon, yeah?’

Now that the lights have come up and the crowd is rapidly dispersing, the room looks a bit sad. Suddenly, it’s just Shimmi and me, alone again and a bit tired and sweaty. Shimmi’s make-up is all over the place; I can feel that my face is shiny and my hair lanker than ever, without even having to look in a mirror. The spell is definitely broken.

As we trail outside to wait for Pete, it’s just in time for me to see Elyse and Melanie across the road, climbing into the back of a car. That’s when I realise it’s him – the beautiful boy from earlier, with the floppy hair and the face made of unattainable dreams – sitting in the front passenger seat. Elyse didn’t speak to him all night or give any indication that she knew him; now she is getting into a car with him – and, cringingly I realise, I had been stupid enough to think that he might be looking at me.

Shimmi is oblivious as I watch another unknown, shadowy boy climb into the driver’s seat, before they speed away. Fortunately, then Pete pulls up in my mum’s Volvo and beeps jauntily.

‘How was your night, ladies?’

For a minute I had almost forgotten, but the magic still hasn’t worn off yet and suddenly it all comes flooding back. Shimmi and I grin at each other in the rear-view mirror.

‘It was brilliant,’ we say in perfect unison.

When Elyse rings me on Sunday night – less than twenty-four hours after the gig – I am beyond thrilled, but apprehensive.

‘Hey, I was thinking – do you want to come over to ours tomorrow?’ she asks.

‘Um. I’d love to – but I can’t, really. I’m supposed to have an exciting half-term schedule of revising and keeping an eye on my little sister while my mum’s at work…’

‘So, you and your sister are home alone? Cool. We’ll come over to you. Text me your address.’

The phone goes dead before I can say another word. I don’t have time to argue, even if I want to – luckily I don’t. Elyse has just decided that this is happening and there is no room for discussion. I’m too thrilled to worry much about the logistics.

I’m not entirely sure how I am going to clear it with my mum but, for once, I know I’m prepared to fight for this one if I have to. I corner her on her own in the bathroom before she goes to bed.

‘Mum, I was wondering… Tomorrow, is it OK if my friends Elyse and Melanie come over for a bit?’

‘The new girls you met up with at the concert? I don’t see why not. How about Shimmi and Nathalie?’ she says through a mouthful of toothpaste.

‘Nathalie’s gone away for half term, but I’ll see if Shim’s around. Thanks, Mum.’

I’d been working myself up so much about it, I kind of can’t believe it’s this easy.

‘Hey, I trust you not to burn the joint down, and I really do appreciate you keeping an eye on Daisy during the day this week.’

‘It’s cool; I don’t mind.’ I shrug. ‘If I can have friends over in the day, it’ll be really great.’

‘No problem. I’m just glad you seem a bit perkier since you had such a good birthday and met these girls.’

‘Yeah. They’re really cool.’

There is a pause as my mum looks at me intently.

‘We’ve been a bit worried about you, to be honest. You haven’t seemed very happy recently, so I’m pleased things are looking up.’

‘Yeah. I think they are. Don’t worry, Mum.’