Nemesis: Because I Want You - 3. Chapter Three: Plasticine

CHAPTER THREE

Plasticine

‘What? You can’t break up with me!’ Linda glared at him, eyes blazing. ‘No one dumps me!’

Dave sighed and looked away. He had been afraid of this. ‘Look, it’s not that I don’t like you or anything. It’s just that I don’t think we’re good together.’ He wondered for a moment whether he should stick in an, ‘It’s not you, it’s me,’ but decided against it.

‘No!’ she said. ‘People don’t dump me, I dump them, you hear me?’ Linda was fuming.

‘Fine, then tell people you dumped me. I don’t want to be in this relationship anymore.’ Dave was starting to feel annoyed now. This wasn’t at all going the way it was supposed to. He had dumped several girls before (every girl he had ever dated, in fact), always very gently, and usually they would cry, ask what they did wrong. He would tell them it wasn’t their fault, that he liked them, only not in the way they deserved, and then they would hug and go their separate ways.

Linda wasn’t sad. She wasn’t crying. She wasn’t upset that he didn’t want to be with her anymore. She was upset that she was being dumped. This did nothing to change Dave’s mind.

‘Fine, I will!’ she shouted, before storming off down the corridor.

Dave sighed. Hell of a way to start a morning.

* * *

Nick looked out of the classroom window. It was now early October, and the leaves on the maple trees outside were turning yellow and red. He glanced down at his English book and sighed. He had no concentration these days.

Looking up again, he noticed someone watching him out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head and his eyes met Linda’s. Her face froze in a deer-in-the-headlights expression, before she turned her head away, looking embarrassed. No, surely not embarrassed. What would she be embarrassed about? Nick returned to his work, shaking his head.

Nick sat down by himself at lunch, as per usual. In general, it wasn’t okay to be different in Windfield Green. People who were different didn’t make friends. Nick had gone to great lengths in the past to be like everyone else, but it had never really worked. They had always seen through him. He never had managed to like the music or the movies that the others liked, to talk and act the way they did, or to dress like them.

There had been other kids who were different in the past. A family of Orthodox Jews had settled down in the town a few years previously. Their boys had been mocked relentlessly for their clothes and their long curls, and were told they had big noses. The family had since moved to Birmingham.

A Turkish girl named Elanur had gone to their school for a while. She had worn a hijab with her uniform, and at first had been asked to take it off by the teachers who were unaware that she was legally entitled to wear it. But even after the teachers had realised their mistake, the other pupils teased her for it. It had ended badly, with Elanur being assaulted and beaten by a group of her peers, and the family having her transferred to a different school district.

And those were the kids who looked different. Over the years there had been a number of kids who just didn’t fit in because they acted differently. A few had persevered, assimilated to one another and formed their own social cliques. Others had left. One notable case, a boy named Clark who had very nearly become Nick’s friend, had ended in a suicide attempt, after which the whole family moved away as well. Nick had been heartbroken. But despite not fitting into any group, Nick was respected enough that he had never been outright bullied—except by Dave and his lot, and he bullied them right back—but never enough that anyone wanted to befriend him, and so he remained, but was always alone.

This was why he was so surprised when someone walked up to him and said, ‘Er, excuse me . . . Is this seat taken?’ Nick looked up and saw Linda looking down at him, smiling. He looked behind him, to see if there was someone else she might have been talking to, but there was nobody else nearby.

‘Er,’ he said after a while. ‘Er, no . . . I mean, the seat’s not taken, no.’ He wondered sceptically if this was a trick, and if he asked her to sit down, she would say, ‘No way, loser!’ and walk away.

But before he had time to offer her the seat, Linda had already taken it. She set down her tray and sat opposite him, smiling. ‘You don’t mind, do you?’ she asked, no doubt noticing the bewildered look on his face.

‘No, of course not,’ said Nick, coming to his senses. ‘No, it’s fine. Just . . . Why aren’t you sitting with Dave and them?’

Linda turned her head and glanced over at the table where her usual friends were seated. ‘I don’t know, I just can’t stand talking to those idiots right now . . . Besides, Dave and I broke up.’

Nick nearly choked on his macaroni. ‘What? When?’

‘This morning . . .’ Linda stared down at her plate, looking miserable.

‘Do you . . .’ Nick began awkwardly, not quite sure how to finish the sentence. ‘Do you—I mean, d’you want to talk about it?’

She nodded. ‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘I’d love that. But do you think we could go somewhere else?’

‘Of course,’ said Nick. ‘I’m full, anyway.’

* * *

Linda spent about fifteen minutes sobbing about how Dave had never listened to what she had to say, how he had never cared about what she wanted. It was all him and his needs, all the time. Nick guessed he knew what that meant, and he felt sorry for her, but at the same time he felt a pang of regret knowing that Dave would never want anything like that from him.

They sat on a bench in a corner at the far end of the courtyard, next to the bicycle shed, where they were unlikely to be disturbed. Linda, who had barely said two words to Nick before that weren’t ‘you’ and ‘suck’, was now talking freely, about her failed relationship with Dave and how she would never look at him again. Having grown up with his older sister, Nick knew exactly where to interject a sympathetic sound or phrase. Girls, he knew, didn’t want advice or solutions. They just wanted to feel like someone listened to them. So Nick listened.

Linda wiped the tears from her cheek. ‘God, you must think I’m a total wreck!’ she said.

‘Oh, no, not at all!’ Nick replied quickly. ‘No, I get it. You’ve been through a lot, so . . .’ He trailed off.

Linda looked at him and smiled. ‘You are so nice!’ she said. ‘I’m so glad I was finally brave enough to talk to you. I could never have done it before, not with Dave around, but I just don’t care about being popular anymore.’ She took Nick’s hand. ‘Let’s be friends from now on. Okay?’

Nick grinned. ‘Okay!’

* * *

Nick switched on his old desktop computer when he got home, a clunky monster that still ran Windows XP. This day had been very different, to say the least. He still wasn’t sure what Linda was up to, but she had seemed genuinely kind. Perhaps she was turning over a new leaf.

He logged onto Messenger and was happy to find Mel already online.

Mel was strictly an online acquaintance. They had met on some message board or another years ago, and had at some point exchanged e-mail addresses. They didn’t know anything about each other aside from their first names and, spurred on by the anonymity of the Internet and the certainty that Mel did not live anywhere near him, Nick had spilled out his heart to her. She was the closest thing he had to a friend. She listened and gave him advice, and he did the same for her. Other than a few guys in dubious chat rooms, she was the only person in the world that he had told about his sexuality.

Nick: I made a friend today.

He waited a few seconds for the reply.

Mel: Wow, good for you! Tell me everything!

Nick: Her name’s Linda. She’s D’s ex-girlfriend. They only broke up today, so I’m still a bit uncertain about it . . . But she approached me. Told me everything about how miserable she’d been, which I can believe with him for a boyfriend. Anyway, turns out we have a lot in common, and she’s invited me to go with her to a party this weekend.

He waited for a response, tapping his fingers impatiently on the desktop.

Mel: Are you sure that’s a good idea?

Nick: What to you mean?

Mel: Well, option A, this is all an elaborate practical joke and you’re gonna get humiliated, Carrie style. Option B, it’s the real thing, but what if she has feelings for you?

Nick typed quickly.

Nick: What if she does?

Mel: Nick, you’re gay.

Nick: Well, yeah, I think I am…

Nick thought about his wording, before continuing.

Nick: But no girl has ever shown any interest in me in that way, so how can I be sure? I’ve never kissed anyone at all.

He waited again. Mel took her sweet time replying this time, so he checked his e-mail and twitter, and then the Messenger window blinked again.

Mel: I think you really, really want to feel normal, and you think that maybe this could be your chance at that. I’m not saying you shouldn’t go to the party at all, just that you should be careful. Don’t get too close until you’re sure, because you never know if she might turn out not to be entirely honest. Maybe she just wants to be your friend, in which case hurray, but just in case she just wants to hurt you, or worse, just wants to hurt D, just be careful with how close you let her get and how much you let her know about you, yeah?

Nick sighed. He knew she was right, really.

Nick: Yeah. Okay. I have to go now, though. Homework. Later.

He logged off.

* * *

The following day, Nick and Linda ate lunch together again. Since Dave appeared to be their common denominator, they mostly talked about him, but now Linda seemed to be over the initial shock of the break-up, and wanted to hear how Nick felt about him.

So Nick told her about their fights growing up, and how Dave seemed to always sabotage any chance he had of making friends, while leaving out the bits about how fit Nick thought he was.

‘I never understood what was so great about him,’ he added, after a good ten minutes of this. ‘I mean, I guess he has a way of sucking people in . . .’

‘Yeah, totally,’ Linda agreed. ‘I mean, obviously . . . I feel so stupid for having fallen for it, really. Now I know what he’s really like, you won’t see me, like, pandering for his attention any time soon.’ She smiled at Nick. ‘You are such a better person!’

They went on to discuss their interests. They didn’t have very much in common. Most of the music Nick liked she hadn’t even heard of, and most of the music she liked, he found to be awfully tedious. She did like Muse, which was something, he supposed. It didn’t really seem to matter much that they had such different tastes, though. He promised to burn her some CDs with things she might like.

He couldn’t understand how he had misjudged her like that. He had always taken her to be just another dumb blonde, but here she was, open minded and inviting, and interested in his feelings and opinions. Maybe Dave and all those other popular people had brought out the worst in her, but it was as if she’d changed overnight, and Nick genuinely liked this person.

* * *

Dave watched his ex-girlfriend from across the cafeteria. He didn’t know what she was up to, but he felt certain it couldn’t be anything good. It made no sense for her to be so nice to Nick. What could they possibly have in common? Was it possible that she genuinely liked him?

No, that couldn’t be it. Linda was ambitious and greedy. She wasn’t nice to anyone unless it benefited her, and for her to try and befriend someone so utterly unpopular just didn’t make sense.

He saw them both laugh at something. They looked to be having a good time, but all the same, there was definitely something going on.

* * *

It had been a long time since Nick had been to a party. When he was little, and his classmates’ parents threw their children birthday parties, he had always been invited by proxy. He would go, sit in a corner, eat some cake, and feel very sorry for himself when no one would play with him.

When his classmates had begun to arrange their own parties and write their own guest lists, Nick stopped getting invited. The very last time he had been, he had been denied entry and gone home feeling worse about himself than ever before.

This time, however, everything was different. Linda and he met up a couple of blocks away. She was wearing a pink dress, a white cardigan, and gold ballerina flats. Nick himself was dressed in one of his nicer pairs of denims and a purple button-down shirt. Fashion wasn’t a priority with him, but Zoë had helped pick out the outfit and told him he looked very handsome.

The party was hosted by a girl in their year named Julianne, who had been unwisely left home alone by her parents, and she was one of Linda’s closest friends. Julianne had dark hair and a pretty enough face, and lived in one of the town’s posher areas, in an early twentieth century brick house. They were greeted with welcoming smiles, and though Nick could feel everyone’s eyes on him and knew that he was out of place, it appeared that everyone accepted his presence because of who he was there with.

Inside, loud music was blaring from the stereo system. Around them, people were dancing and drinking, and there was pizza and snacks set out on a table. Someone, most likely a helpful older sibling, had brought several cases of Foster’s that stood under the table, for anyone who hadn’t brought their own alcohol. Linda immediately grabbed two cans and handed one to Nick. Not wanting to be rude, Nick took a sip. It wasn’t as bad as he’d imagined. He wasn’t much of a drinker, never really having had anyone to drink with. His sister occasionally let him sample wine or champagne on special occasions, but he had never set out to get drunk with people his own age before. It was what everyone else was doing, though, so he thought he might as well. Who knew when he would next get an opportunity to act like a normal teenager?

Linda introduced him to people, and he found himself talking and laughing with them, the alcohol going straight to his head.

‘Let’s dance!’ said Linda when they had finished their first drinks, and Nick, to his own great surprise, joined her on the dance floor. He wasn’t a bad dancer—a good sense of rhythm came with playing guitar, which was something he’d been doing actively for several years—though he hadn’t had much practice at dancing before. He managed reasonably well anyway, though.

After a while, he excused himself to go to the toilet. It was only about eight o’clock, but already there were couples making out noisily in bedrooms as he passed them. When at last he found the bathroom, it was occupied, so he waited. He glanced down the corridor out towards the living room where the party was going.

The door to the bathroom opened and he turned around, finding himself face to face with Alan Bradford.

‘Davis? What the fuck are you doing here?’

‘Well, hello to you too, Bradford,’ said Nick coolly, feeling braver than usual. ‘I was invited.’

‘Invited? Who the hell by?’

‘Linda asked me to come along,’ Nick replied, a little bit smugly. ‘Now, are you gonna let me pass? I need to piss.’

Alan raised an eyebrow and stared at him, surprise evident on his face. Nick stepped around him and went into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He stared at his face in the mirror, wondering briefly what the hell he was doing here. This wasn’t his world.

When he returned to the party a few minutes later, Julianne had brought out a large bowl of fruit punch. He went to find Linda, who handed him a plastic cup. ‘We call it Strawberry Hell!’ she said, grinning. ‘Basically, run strawberries through a food processor, add sparkling lemonade, ice, and whatever booze you have handy. Everyone who had anything brought it and mixed it in.’

It didn’t taste half bad, thought Nick, taking a sip. When they had finished their drinks, Linda wanted to dance again and Nick was happy to join her. He realised he even knew the song that was playing and didn’t find it half as annoying as most songs of its kind. He felt lightheaded and oddly happy, dancing with a girl for the first time in his life. It felt so strangely normal and gratifying, and he thought, I could get used to this.

A little while later, they plopped down on a sofa together, utterly exhausted and laughing.

‘That was so much fun!’ said Nick, turning his head to look at Linda, who was still giggling. ‘Really, thank you. Thanks for, you know, bringing me here. I honestly can’t remember when I last had this much fun.’

‘No worries,’ she replied. She smiled. Brought up a hand to tentatively brush a stray strand of hair from his brow. Bit her lip. Giggled again.

Nick smiled and looked into her eyes. She was pretty, he decided. Her hazel eyes sparkled.

Then, suddenly, she was kissing him. He was so taken aback that he went rigid at first. But her lips were soft and she had one hand on his shoulder, and after a moment he leaned into the kiss. This wasn’t so bad. She took one of his hands and placed it on her waist. Her body, pressed up against his, felt soft and warm and curvy. He wondered briefly what Dave’s body felt like. More angular, perhaps. Slender and powerful.

Linda’s tongue poked at his lips and he parted them instinctively. Her mouth was hot and tasted like strawberries and alcohol and faintly like beer. It wasn’t really doing anything for him, but it wasn’t unpleasant at all. It felt good and normal and like the proper thing to do, so he brought his other hand up to cup her cheek, and she leaned deeper into the kiss, her tongue becoming more insistent.

He wasn’t sure how long they sat like that, but he was brought back to reality rather suddenly as someone grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him away from her.

‘What the actual fuck do you think you’re doing?’ There stood Dave, in all his splendour. He looked gorgeous, dressed in fashionable dark blue jeans, a fairly tight, pale yellow t-shirt with a surf motif, and a black leather jacket over it. His blonde hair was mussed up just so.

And he looked dangerous, rage evident on his face. He shoved Nick roughly, who stumbled backwards into a bunch of people standing by the door to the kitchen, causing one of them to spill beer down his front.

‘Oi, watch it!’ the offended party said gruffly.

‘Sorry,’ said Nick, steadying himself. The room was spinning slightly.

‘Who the hell do you think you are?’ Dave shouted, advancing on him.

‘Please don’t fight in here!’ Julianne squeaked frantically, running between them.

‘Fine,’ said Dave darkly. ‘Outside, Davis!’

Nick hesitated. He searched the crowd for Linda, but she seemed to have vanished into the crowd. No one was coming to his defence. He sighed and began making his way towards the door. Either way, he supposed it was time he left.

Once outside, Dave turned to him again. ‘Been feasting on my scraps, have you?’ he spat venomously.

‘Why don’t you mind your own fucking business, Thompson?’ Nick retorted. ‘You treated Linda like absolute shit, and she came to me for comfort!’

‘Oh, so you think she cares about you, do you?’ Dave said with disdain. ‘You think she came to you because you’re different, because she likes you? She came to you because I hate you, to make me jealous so she could win me back!’

It was like a slap in the face. Not so much the idea that Linda was using him, he could live with that. But Dave had just told him that he hated him. Why did that hurt so much? All Nick could do was stare. Dave glared back, neck flushed, panting with anger, and somehow still gorgeous. They stood facing each other like that for what felt like an eternity.

At last Dave looked away, and for a minute it was as if all the fight had gone out of him. ‘Go home, Davis,’ he said quietly. ‘You don’t belong here.’ Then he turned around and went back inside.

* * *

Back in Julianne’s living room, Linda came bounding up to Dave looking elated. ‘So, want to dance?’ she asked, batting her eyelashes and looking as pretty as she could.

Dave glared at her furiously. ‘What the hell are you playing at?’ he shouted at her, and she blinked, apparently surprised. ‘Linda, just cause you managed to make me jealous, that doesn’t mean I want to get back together. You are a mean, cheap slut, and I wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole!’ He disappeared into the crowd and left her standing alone.