Non Pratt - Trouble

“Aaron?” I cut across whatever he’s saying.

“Hm?”

“What happened at the wedding you went to?”

He shrugs. “My cousin got married. Mum got a bit drunk. Dad danced. Badly.”

“Were there girls there?” I’m not sure what’s making me go in this direction, but there’s something niggling away at me.

“Uh-huh.”

“Pretty ones?”

“I guess.” Aaron’s looking at the book, deliberately not looking up at me and I see him swallow, just once and I know. I just know .

He so pulled someone at the wedding.

So I pulled someone at the wedding. So what? It’s not as if I’m going to see her again.

I don’t need to justify it.

Not to myself, not to Hannah.

Least of all to Hannah.

She slept with someone. I know this. I have always known this. It’s not as if I thought she had an immaculate conception. But the father is Jay. Jay . It’s been a lot to take in. And if there’s one thing I needed to do, it was to remind myself of where I stand: real friend, fake father. One thing I never have been is Hannah’s boyfriend.

So, whatever it feels like, however she is looking at me, I have not cheated.

I cried myself to sleep last night. What did she look like? Who approached who? What did they do together? I let myself think about what I would do if I saw a fit boy at some family thing and I know that it would involve more than a peck on the cheek and a bit of hand-holding. But then, not every girl is like me. Still. All I could think about was Aaron kissing someone. Aaron’s hands on someone’s skin, undressing them. I picture his eyes closed as he enjoys whatever’s going on and it makes me feel sick.

I can’t believe I’m jealous.

Hannah asked me to walk to the shop with her at lunchtime. I find her waiting for me outside the school. Her coat won’t quite do up any more and she’s wearing a thick non-regulation scarf to bridge the gap in her lapels, hands rammed deep into her pockets. The way she’s standing, staring so intently at the floor, concerns me. She turns as I approach, eyes still on the ground as she falls into step with me up the path and past the school gates.

“What is it, Han?” I stop when we get beyond sight of the school.

Hannah stares at the ground, frowning. “I don’t want it to be like this.”

“Neither do I,” I say.

“I know you pulled at the wedding.” She’s so sure of the truth that she doesn’t even look up to check. “And you shouldn’t have felt like you needed to hide it.”

There’s nothing I can say to that.

“I just want you to know that you don’t have to keep secrets from me. You can trust me.” She glances up and I step closer. “I trust you.”

And I know that she is thinking about the one secret that’s been so huge that she hasn’t been able to tell a single soul. Except me.

“Hannah.” I put my arm around her and pull her into a hug, the way I should have done the night she told me that Jay was the father. Maybe he isn’t the only one who’s let her down. I press my face into her hair for a second. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re forgiven,” she mumbles into my collar.

This last week or so has been UNbearable.

I have never been so horny in all my life and I think it might kill me if I don’t have sex soon. I almost don’t care who it is, I’m that bad. I would jump a reanimated corpse if its eyeballs swivelled the right way at me.

Tyrone. God. I can’t stop thinking about the evening we had sex. I’m sure my memory is playing tricks on me with the way it likes to magnify his member, but it’s not like I’m thinking straight enough to sort it out.

Fletch… memories of his hands up my skirt and on my skin. I get a hot flush in my nether regions when I accidentally catch his eye as I avoid looking at Mr Dhupam, who is probably the fittest teacher we have. (This isn’t saying much, but talk to my pants cos my brain ain’t listening. Actually, my pants aren’t either.)

I know it’s gone too far when I catch myself gazing at Gideon’s arse.

But who would have sex with someone whose baby is straining the buttons on her blouse if it’s not theirs? Besides, I haven’t forgotten the freak-out I had at Rex’s party. My body doesn’t want sex with anyone else, no matter what it thinks when there’s a member of the male species within perving distance.

My body wants sex with Jay. Even the thought of our kiss in the car is enough to cause a mini spasm of desire, and if I let my mind drift back to his party…

This has got to be why marriage was invented, so that when you’re pregnant there’s someone to have sex with.

In my position as Hannah’s closest friend, I am uniquely qualified to notice that she is being an utter pain in the arse at the moment. She pays no attention to a word I say. If she’s not staring over my shoulder, then her eyes are glazed over and she’s somewhere else entirely. I caught her staring at Rex’s crotch the other day when he came over to say something to me about ICT coursework.

Although associating with Hannah has made me as appealing as a cold sore to the basketball lot, Rex still tries to talk to me, smiles and gives a nod of acknowledgement when we pass in the corridor. Unless he’s with Katie, in which case he keeps his eyes on the floor. She cut him down the other day at registration and Mark Grey did a whipcrack gesture behind her back. The others smirked but Rex looked miserable as hell. I wonder whether regular sex was a fair exchange for his spine?

When I make this joke to Hannah after we meet up before lunch, she just nods vaguely.

“Did you even hear what I said?” I ask.

“You said something about sex.”

“Is that all you can think about?”

I thought I was teasing her but she looks at me very seriously and says, “Yes. It really is.”

“Really?”

“I might die if I don’t have sex soon.”

“ Really? It’s not been that long…”

“If I’d had sex fifteen minutes ago I’d still want it now,” she mutters.

“My baby daddy duties don’t extend to that, sorry,” I say with a grin, but I’ve failed to take Hannah’s epic sense of humour failure into account.

“I know, Aaron. You don’t have to spell it out.” And with that she gets up and strops off into the canteen.

If I’d realized where we were going then I would have made every effort possible to get out of a shopping trip with Hannah, Anj and Gideon.

The Clearwater Centre is on the other side of the river from where I live now — the side I am more familiar with. The side I lived on until seven months ago.

None of them knows this and I intend to keep it that way.

I think of what Hannah said when I answered the phone: “If I can’t have sex then I will shop.”

I should have shagged her myself.

We leave the shop weighed down with bags. I say “we” when I mean “me”. Anj says she’ll “think about” the jacket she tried on, whereas I went mental and bought the whole shop, or at least the maternity part of it. Robert gave me some money after I had a meltdown midweek and he and I were the only ones in the house. I’d been in front of my wardrobe, wailing in despair at the three hideous maternity things that Mum had insisted on buying for me, the sound carrying all the way downstairs to the study. He hugged me and told me that it was entirely normal to feel like this — apparently Mum had a similar hissy fit when she was pregnant with Lola.