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  I wish I could just be a nice person and that my heart didn’t sink every time there is a clear sign of how much everyone fancies her. Or that I didn’t secretly wish that Cal had only male friends. That’s the worst bit – I don’t even have the right to feel like this.

  ‘Cal!’

  Oh no.

  ‘Hey, we’re just watching,’ Cal says and howls of protest go up around the room. My chest feels empty.

  Cleo raises an eyebrow at Cal and he tilts his head towards her and holds his thumb out questioningly. It takes me a moment to work out what he’s suggesting. Cal stands up and leans over towards the sofa. They link hands and then move their heads together. The idea is that it looks like they’re kissing, but actually all they are doing is kissing their own thumbs. Cal exaggerates it to make it look ridiculous and Cleo plays along too.

  But it still looks like they are kissing.

  Cal takes a bow and sits down and then Cleo says, ‘So is no one going to kiss me properly, then?’

  There’s a silence, before one of the rugby guys shouts, ‘Rosie should do it on his behalf!’ Another one joins in. ‘Yeah, it’s not cheating if you kiss another girl.’

  Cleo turns to look at him for a second and blinks. There’s a glint in her eyes that suggests she could rip him apart if she wanted to. He goes red and shrinks back towards the wall. Then she turns to me.

  ‘Oh come on,’ she says and grabs my face, pulling me upwards.

  Our lips meet and press together. An unexpected rush fills my chest. A couple of people cheer and whistle around the room. And then we pull apart, like she did with Dan, but her hands are still on my cheeks and she stops me moving back. I just have time to notice that her eyes are closed before she moves in again. This time our lips are only just touching and I hear her intake of breath, like she is savouring it. Her fingers grip my cheeks tighter and she presses her mouth against mine again.

  Well, she wasn’t lying about being a good kisser.

  As I sit back down Cleo seems to be looking past me.

  I turn to Cal, who is staring at me in astonishment.

  Cal spins and gets Simon, who lets out a cry of protest. Cal launches himself across the room, calls out, ‘Come here, you sexy beast,’ and plants a kiss right on his lips.

  The room is full of whoops and laughter, but when I look at Cleo, she’s staring into space. Suddenly she stands up and takes the attention of the whole room with her.

  ‘I’m going out,’ she says vaguely and walks out of the door.

  Dear M,

  So many things reminded me of you tonight.

  Cleo x

  Chapter 6

  I go into the bathroom to clean my teeth and find two girls in there, one sitting on the toilet and one on the edge of the bath. I realise one of them is Liv, who kissed Dan earlier. When I ask if I can come in and clean my teeth she nods at me briefly and turns back to the conversation.

  ‘Yeah, I know, he is so lovely. He’s, like, really sweet, you know?’

  ‘Do you think you’ll ask him out?’ says her friend.

  ‘Maybe,’ Liv considers. ‘I mean, Dan is lovely. But then there’s Kurt.’

  ‘But he’s a complete dick to you,’ her friend retorts.

  ‘Yeah, I know.’

  ‘You didn’t hear from him for two weeks and then he sent you a picture of his penis that was meant for someone else.’

  ‘Yeah, I know.’

  ‘And he told you that you could go out with him as long as he didn’t have to acknowledge you as his girlfriend to anyone.’

  ‘Yeah, I know. He’s a total dick. But it’s kind of hot, do you know what I mean?’

  I watch them in the mirror. This Liv seems like a bit of an idiot to me. Her friend needs to put her straight.

  ‘Yeah, he’s hot,’ the girl agrees.

  ‘Come on!’ I say, forgetting that I am not actually in the conversation. And that I have a mouthful of toothpaste, some of which bubbles out of my mouth. I try to suck it back in and see the girls looking over at me and in a panic I swallow.

  For a moment we are just looking at each other, while my throat burns.

  ‘Did you just swallow your toothpaste?’ says the second girl.

  ‘Yeah,’ I say in a husky, wheezing voice and making my throat sting even more. ‘Are you not meant to?’

  ‘No!’ They both stare at me like I am an utter freak.

  ‘Ah, well. Good to know for next time. Thanks, pals!’

  Pals? I need to go and live in a cave.

  ‘Weird . . .’ I hear Liv mutter as I leave. I find it slightly depressing to be called weird by someone who thinks being sent accidental penis pictures is hot.

  Dan is standing in the corridor outside the bathroom, leaning against the wall and frowning. I wonder how long he’s been there?

  ‘Oh, hey!’ he says, his face brightening. ‘I think it’s the time of night for Guitar Hero.’ He holds up the box.

  He seems to be hovering here in the hall. Maybe he’s waiting around for the chance to talk to Liv.

  ‘How are you, Dan?’ My voice has almost returned to normal now.

  ‘Oh,’ he says, ‘I’m not so bad. Mustn’t fret . . .’ He holds up the guitar and I laugh. ‘I can’t tempt you with a game?’

  ‘Oh no – I’ve got my induction on the work placement thing tomorrow. Don’t want to stagger in there with red eyes and fall off the chair and . . .’

  Just stop talking.

  ‘. . . wet myself.’

  This is why I need to run things through my head before I say them. When I try to ad-lib, this happens.

  ‘No, that wouldn’t get you a job,’ says Dan. ‘Unless perhaps they were interviewing for the town drunk.’

  Dan is one of those people who goes with whatever stupid thing you’ve said, rather than pointing out how stupid it is.

  ‘I hope it goes well, anyway,’ he says and starts down the stairs. ‘I think Cal will be up soon – he said he had something in the morning, too.’

  Chapter 7

  ‘What do you need to get up for?’ I ask Cal as he shuts his bedroom door.

  ‘Huh?’ he says. ‘Hey, check this out!’

  He starts humming some made-up cabaret tune. Then he lunges forward, throws his head back and pouts at me. He pulls one of the braces of his shorts off his shoulder and arches his eyebrow coyly.

  ‘Hmm . . . I’m guessing you’re supposed to be some sort of stripper?’ I laugh.

  ‘Oh yeah,’ says Cal breathily. He pings the other strap and then rolls it down. Then he puts his hands behind his head and thrusts his hips in a circle.

  ‘It’s terrifying,’ I tell him.

  ‘Me being sexy is terrifying?’ he says, pretending to be hurt.

  ‘It’s monstrous!’ I say.

  He laughs and then turns round in front of me and does the hip-thrusting thing again, only this time his bum is right in my face. He wiggles it from side to side. Me laughing spurs him on. He hums even louder and the moves get even more flamboyant. Soon I can’t breathe. I reach forward and yank the lederhosen down.

  Cal spins round with a look of mock outrage.

  ‘Right.’

  He climbs out of the shorts, leaps on to the bed and pins me down. The laughter subsides and then at the same moment we both break into a smile. I slide my hands out from under his, wrap them round his neck and pull him down onto me and we kiss. Then there’s the hurried untangling of legs as we take off our clothes. We’ve worked out by now that there is no elegant way of doing it. Especially not with knickers. It’s more about speed. Obviously Cal is ready first as he’s hardly wearing anything. He lies on his side, watching me, and then laughs when my dress gets stuck on my head.

  We kiss for ages, running fingers along each other’s bodies and delaying the moment for as long as we can stand it. When he finally pushes inside me we both sigh with relief.

  ‘I’ve been waiting for that,’ he whispers, as he kisses my neck and I dig my fingers into his shou
lder.

  We lie there, my head on his chest, as our breathing slowly returns to normal.

  Every so often a particularly loud shout or laugh carries up the stairs as the party continues.

  ‘I wonder where Cleo went,’ says Cal suddenly.

  ‘Yeah, I don’t know,’ I reply.

  Keep the crazy in.

  ‘I know it’s early days, but she hasn’t hung around with us much,’ he says.

  ‘No?’

  ‘She stays in her room all the time. I think she might be quite shy.’

  I laugh into his chest.

  ‘What?’ He twists his head so he can see me.

  ‘I don’t think shy people walk around in their underwear.’

  Careful.

  The silence that follows seems to last hours.

  ‘I walk round in my underwear and I’m terribly shy.’ Cal looks at me with serious eyes. I poke him in the stomach and he laughs.

  ‘It’s true. I am ever so shy.’

  I look up at his profile, the corner of his mouth in a slight smile. It’s one of those moments when I want to squeeze him and not let go.

  ‘Don’t you want to go down and keep walking around in your underwear?’ I say.

  ‘I’d rather stay here with you,’ he says. ‘For ever.’ He kisses the top of my head. ‘Till you’re old and dead.’

  ‘Even if I have no teeth and a hump?’

  ‘Especially if you have no teeth and a hump.’

  ‘Even if I smell of wee and go round town with a shopping trolley full of cats, shouting at children?’

  ‘Rosie, don’t pretend that’s got anything to do with being old – you did that the other day.’

  I press myself closer against him. It’s funny how in some ways Cal is the person I’m least self-conscious around with what I say, but at the same time I haven’t told him half the things that are going through my head.

  Chapter 8

  I wake up a few hours later and reach out for him, but just find my hand sliding onto the empty sheet. He must have gone out to go to the loo.

  I really need it too, come to think of it. And there’s only one in the house. That’s something that will take some getting used to over the summer. I wait a few minutes, staring out at the room, which is blue in the moonlight. My suitcase is still lying against the wardrobe. As I only arrived two hours before the party started I didn’t have a chance to unpack. Although to be honest I’m not totally sure where my stuff is going to go. Cal is not the tidiest person in the world and keeps his stuff in piles on the floor. He promised he would sort out the room and make some space for my things before I arrived, but it never happened.

  Dad texted me last night and said we should Skype so he can see my room. I ignored that bit of the text, because if we did that then it would be quite obvious I am living in Cal’s room.

  Cal hasn’t come back. I could go and knock to get him to hurry up. I slide out from under the duvet and after a few minutes’ searching manage to locate my pyjamas on the floor. I creep down to the bathroom quickly, as I am actually becoming desperate now.

  It’s empty.

  Coming back up the stairs a few minutes later I see something that I managed to completely miss in my urgent dash. Even though the landing has only reached a dull summer glow there is clearly a crack of light coming out from under the door opposite Cal’s. Cleo’s room.

  And voices. Well, her voice.

  And the creaks of feet moving around.

  I didn’t see any other lights on in other rooms when I went to the loo.

  I edge closer to the door. But suddenly my breathing sounds creepy and loud, like a murderer in a film. And every step I take seems to creak a different floorboard. I panic and run back into Cal’s room.

  I stand there in the middle of the floor, completely still in the gloom, straining to hear above the sound of my heart thumping in my ears.

  Twenty minutes later I’m still in exactly the same position and I think I have cramp. And Cal’s still not back.

  He might have got up to have a midnight feast.

  In the dark.

  Or maybe he’s dead again?

  Again. Because he was dead all the other times, wasn’t he, you insane woman.

  I walk back over towards the bed, but get distracted by a sudden hum from the computer. It’s on.

  Maybe there’ll be a clue on there about where he is.

  You know that you’re being a psycho when you start finding reasonable justifications for stalking.

  I move the mouse. The password screen comes up. I could try putting in ‘rosie’. You know, just to see.

  I’m in.

  His desktop background is a picture of all the housemates from last year, having a picnic in the meadows. Cal is playing some bongos and wearing a giant false moustache.

  I get a pang of guilt for snooping on him. But I get the pang as I am opening the browser and clicking on History, so it is an empty thought, really.

  My eyes pass over all the Facebook pages, Law Soc emails, resit timetables, Netflix, and stop on one thing.

  Spankathon.

  Which he was watching yesterday, when I was on the train. Just before he called me.

  Should I click on it?

  I hover the mouse over the link. And click. Another browser window opens and starts loading. But then more windows and adverts start popping up and the screen is full of genitals.

  Apparently there are ‘loads of horny sluts’ in my area now. So that’s good to know.

  And the speakers seem to be set at full volume, as suddenly the room is full of moaning.

  I fly into a panic and start frantically shutting down all the windows, but more keep popping up. It’s like one of those games where you have to whack the moles with a mallet, except with spanking lesbians.

  Then I hear footsteps outside the room.

  I throw myself to the floor and pull the computer plug out of its socket.

  The door opens and Cal walks in. He’s wearing his boxers and a hoodie. He turns the door handle carefully so it doesn’t make a sound and shuts the door. Then he looks over at the bed. And tries to peer more closely in the dark.

  ‘Rosie?’ he whispers.

  ‘I’m on the floor,’ I whisper back.

  ‘Oh,’ he says. It doesn’t seem to occur to him to ask why, which is good. Because I can’t think of anything to tell him that would sound sane.

  ‘I couldn’t sleep,’ he says. ‘Went for a walk around the block.’

  In training for a spankathon?

  ‘Weren’t you cold in your boxers?’ I say, getting back into bed and lying on my side, facing the wall.

  He slides in behind me, puts his hand on my waist and kisses my cheek.

  ‘Nah,’ he says. Then he turns over, facing away from me as well. We have this unspoken rule where for sleeping we each have our own space.

  ‘Love you,’ he says.

  ‘Love you, too.’

  Chapter 9

  Arlo and Simon are whispering to each other by the fridge when Cleo walks into the kitchen in a strappy top and tiny shorts.

  ‘So who was he?’ says Simon. He puts his hands on the back of one of the kitchen chairs and moves it back and forward in what is meant to be a casual manner. But he overdoes it by swinging his leg as well.

  Cleo walks past and ignores him. ‘Oh, a coffee would be lovely, Kitchen Dan,’ she says, seeing him about to put the kettle on.

  ‘Sure,’ he says and flicks the switch on.

  Cal is at the cooker poaching eggs, wearing only his woman’s body apron and some pants.

  ‘Who was who?’ says Dan as he gets the mugs out.

  ‘The person in Cleo’s room last night,’ says Simon with another swing of the leg.

  Cleo is sitting on one of the kitchen chairs with her knees drawn up to her chin. ‘A management consultant,’ she says.

  ‘Without any shoes?’ says Arlo suspiciously.

  ‘What?’ says Cleo.

  ‘Th
at’s the sign when you bring someone home.’ He nods, like he’s imparting age-old wisdom. ‘Shoes outside the door. There were no shoes outside Cleo’s door and no extra shoes in the hall. I counted.’

  ‘You need a life,’ says Dan, moving Arlo out of the way to get to the fridge.

  ‘Any girl who spends the night in my room won’t ever need shoes, or clothes, again,’ says Simon.

  ‘That just sounds like you’re going to kill them,’ says Dan.

  Arlo paces the room like he’s a detective. ‘So that means that it was someone who was at the party already.’

  ‘Who wants my eggs?’ Cal cuts in. Dan and I raise our hands. Simon and Arlo seem happy with Pop-Tarts. Cleo is probably one of those people who has a bowl of seeds for a meal and likes it.

  ‘Super,’ says Cal. ‘Rosie, could you grab the toast?’

  ‘Yep!’ I say and smile. I tell myself I’ve been keeping the crazy in. I didn’t ask him about the porn. Or if he was lying about the midnight walk. But I think really I’m waiting to see if he confesses or accidentally lets something slip.

  Cleo takes a sip of the coffee that Dan has just put in front of her and then sees that Simon and Arlo are standing there staring at her. She sighs.

  ‘What if his shoes were inside my room?’

  Arlo’s face falls. ‘Oh yeah,’ he says.

  ‘A management consultant, out spending too much money in an overpriced club.’ Cleo speaks in a tired, monotone way, like she’s reading a shopping list. ‘Thrilled to find someone up for doing the kinky stuff his boring wife won’t do or has never heard of.’

  Simon’s eyes go wide and a bit of Pop-Tart falls out of Arlo’s mouth.

  Cal laughs as he puts the plates of eggs down on the table. ‘That’s mad!’ he says.

  About a million thoughts are zooming around my brain. So it wasn’t Cal in her room? Unless she’s lying. If she’s not lying, is Cal interested? He looks interested. Is it the kinky stuff? We just do normal sex. Am I his boring wife?

  ‘Married, eh?’ says Dan. ‘Nice.’

  Cleo shrugs. ‘I made a hundred quid out of it.’

  ‘You do it for money?’ says Arlo.

  ‘Cool.’ Simon nods.

  ‘I was joking,’ says Cleo.