Page 73 of Do You Ship It

CHAPTER 25

Just when I think I’ve got it together and am totally, absolutely, mostdefinitelyequipped to handle whatever the rest of the night has to throw at me, I hop down the last of the stairs and come face to face with Jake and Anissa huddled in the kitchen doorway, arms tangled together, both sipping drinks, heads bent near as they giggle about something.

It’s another gut-punch. It’s worse. It’s someone spiking my heart on my favourite stiletto shoe and smiling while it bleeds out slowly.

Not that they’re kissing, or anything close to it, but – what if they did, earlier? What if they do?

It’s not like Anissa owes me anything. Sure, there’s girl code, but it’s not like I evertoldher that I fancied Jake. It’s not like she knows I only brought her here to distract Max. And as for Jake –

As for Jake …

God, he really doesn’t see me that way, does he? Not if he can ditch me at a partyhe invited me to, too busy canoodling with Anissa to even know I’ve been hiding in the toilet crying, to even care.

He’s supposed to be The One.

He’ssupposedto be my best friend.

I catch sight of Max coming through the kitchen door, and decide I really cannot deal with any of this. It’s all too much. I just want to call Dad and ask for a lift home, even if it’s too early to leave yet.

But as I whirl away I find myself caught in a sudden tide of movement, bodies pressing out of rooms in all directions and heading to the conservatory – to the back garden. I just about make out Raf calling, ‘Come on, gang, time for the fireworks! Ozzy, mate, you all set? Where’s Dez? Oi, Alfie, give us a hand setting up the Catherine wheel, will you?’

Of course – the fireworks display. The reason we’re here.

I notice Jake and Anissa swept along in the crush, too – I pick out Jake’s sandy hair, slightly dishevelled from its usual style, and see the flash of Anissa’s snake-cuff earring. Part of me wants to do what I thought Max had been doing to me these last few weeks: insert myself between them, be an annoying third-wheel that ruins the sweet, flirty moments they’re sharing, destroyany and all hope of taking things further. And don’t Iwantto hang out with them anyway? Would it be so horrible if I pushed through the crowd until I found them, and we all watched the fireworks together? I’m sure Max would find us, too.

But I really, really don’t have the energy right now.

Let them have the fireworks, I think, dragging myself out of the way and latching on to a quiet corner in the conservatory where I can stay put. Let them have a kiss if they want one. It’s too late anyway.

I’m too late.

The last stragglers pour through the conservatory doors, out into the pitch-dark night. There are phone torches swinging around and boys shouting instructions as all the fireworks are set up, ready to be lit. I stay inside as the frigid air pours in, leaving me without an alcohol jacket – or a real jacket – for protection.

I draw a breath. Let it back out.

I’m too late, I think again. And maybe I never stood a chance in the first place.

‘You’re not going out to see the fireworks?’

‘Jesus!’ I jump, clutching my chest.

‘Nope, just me.’

I cut Max a glare, not impressed by the joke – or by his lurking. Now we’re face to face, I’m embarrassed by the fact that I had a bit of a meltdown, and all thethings I said to him. I’m embarrassed thathehad to come and check I was okay, because my so-called bestie was too preoccupied to notice. And that he’s caught me hiding from the partyagain– when I should be the one throwing myself into it, when he’s the one whose name people get wrong, when …

When he’s looking at me like that, unflinching, seeing too much, and I bristle, hugging my arms tighter to me.

‘Just because Jake –’

‘Drop it, Max.’

He doesn’t, though; he steps into the room, closing the distance between us bit by bit. ‘Just because he’s getting on with Anissa, or because he’s mates with me, doesn’t mean –’

‘I don’t want to hear it.’ I don’t. It’s bad enough I have to reassure myself that Jake isn’t trying to get rid of me; I don’t need Max’s pity, too. ‘I told you, my friendships are none of your business. Jake and Anissa can – they can do what they like. And Anissa –’

Anissa isn’t even my friend anyway, except … I’d really like her to be, but I feel like I’ve already screwed that up because of how I’ve approached it, even if she’s none the wiser.

‘It is my business, if it’s upsetting you,’ Max says. ‘I thought we were –’