Seventeen

I’d not enjoyed the champagne I’d drunk at Caspien’s birthday, but I found that vodka coupled with something sweet and fruity could achieve that perfect, blissful, drunken state. One I’d become very accustomed to at university.

Josh had brought a bottle of something shockingly green and tongue-numbingly sour that he’d convinced his older brother Gareth to buy for him. There was talk about having to wash his car every Sunday for a month; I wasn’t really listening.

We mixed the vodka with Red Bull first, which, after three large glasses, caused a weird buzzing to start under my skin and in my chest, which I think now was just a caffeine overdose. And when the Red Bull ran out, we used the girls’ lemonade and cranberry juice. By 8 p.m., we were drunk.

Ellie sat on my lap on Alfie’s den sofa, smelling of the apricot and strawberry drink her and George were drinking from wine glasses, while Georgia lay stretched out on the other end with her feet on Alfie’s lap. She was creating what she called ‘Jude’s Birthday Playlist’ with the concentration of a mathematician.

Josh and a couple of the rugby guys he’d brought with him took shots in the kitchen.

I’d taken one shot, Beth’s warning plea to be sensible still ringing in my ears.

Alfie’s den was on the basement floor of his parent’s huge six-bedroom, three-storey detached house and looked onto a massive garden with an outdoor pool. A projector streamed YouTube on the wall at one end – currently playing a Calvin Harris video – and a kitchen and breakfast bar sat snugly at the other. Aside from Caspien, Alfie was the richest person I knew. His parents owned a large number of properties as well as lots of land across the island, and since Jersey was small and there wasn’t a lot of either, they’d become extremely wealthy from it.

They’d brought a cake down shortly after I got here, which Alfie’s parents had arranged, and sang happy birthday at the top of their voices. They gave me gifts too, which I honestly hadn’t been expecting. Ellie had intimated that she’d bought me something, which had turned out to be a heavy bottle of expensive–looking aftershave in a clear bottle, a navy Ralph Lauren hoodie, and a custom–made card with pictures of us together on the front. Josh gave me a terribly wrapped rugby top, which he’d left the price on. And Alfie and Georgie bought me, jointly, a Fairisle Christmas jumper, a reindeer made of Chocolate, and, terrifyingly, a packet of extra-large condoms.

This had elicited a shrieking laugh from Georgia, who’d said Ellie had told her what size to get – something Ellie vehemently denied.

I thanked everyone, a little embarrassed by the generosity (and the condoms), and proceeded to get more drunk. I was in the kitchen pouring everyone’s drinks when Ellie found me. She looked exceptionally pretty. Her eyes were dusted with glitter, her lips red like the dress she wore, and sharp dark lines swept out from her eyelids, making her look cat-like.

I leaned in to kiss her. She made a very soft, very feminine noise and sank into me, and for a moment, I forgot all about Caspien Deveraux and how much I wanted him. Blood rushed south, stirring me with want. We kissed until Josh shouted for us to hurry up with the drinks.

Ellie pulled back and threw a glare at him while I went back to pouring too much vodka into tall glasses. Behind us, the music went up a notch.

“I hope you know that was a joke with the condoms, “ Ellie said. “I definitely didn’t tell George about your...you know.”

I laughed, pleasantly buzzed. The earlier embarrassment I’d felt was a distant memory. Lost in a daze of vodka and gratitude and good vibes. “So you don’t tell each other everything?”

She gave me what I thought was a caught–out look. “I mean, we do. Mostly. But not about that, I promise.”

I was pouring along a line of seven glasses, two seconds of cranberry juice in each; then I’d do four, or maybe two, of lemonade. “So then...Georgia hasn’t told you about Alfie’s?” I held up my pinkie.

She burst out laughing. “Um, no comment.” She went to the fridge and pulled out the lemonade. “I’m sure guys tell each other plenty too.”

“Um, we don’t tend to talk about girls’ tits all that much,” I said honestly.

We talked about films, rugby, and whatever PS5 game Josh and Alfie were playing. I was the weirdo among them who didn’t really get video games. I never had. When kids were playing computer games, I was reading. Sometimes, I’d come round to their houses and do just that while they played.

It was probably a miracle that I was never bullied at school for being the weird, bookish one. I think I had Alfie – the richest, most popular kid at school, and Josh, the sportiest and all-round nicest kid at school – to thank for that. By virtue of them, I became untouchable. And yet, they never made me feel like I didn’t belong or as though I was bathing in their shine.

Later, at Oxford, I’d think back on this friendship as juvenile and transitory – a stepping stone on my journey to building the sort of friendships that would last years. I always knew we would drift apart. That our lives would split off into completely different directions; Alfie staying in Jersey to work with his father, Josh to some small town rugby team in the UK proper, while I lost myself to a bigger city like London or Manchester. I wonder now if my friendship with these two boys who knew who I was before Caspien was somehow the most authentic I’ve ever had.

That night, I saw all of this spread out before me; the fleeting nature of friendship and childhood. I was grateful to them for being a part of my life, and I was determined they always would be. With loud, fervent proclamation, I hugged them both and told them just that. Josh laughed and poured me another shot while Alfie looked like he would burst into tears.

“Mate, when I think about how you lost your mum and dad and then had to start a new school,” he was rambling, drunkenly, breath smelling like cranberries. “I just, I just think you’re great. You’re my best friend. You and Joshy. I love you both.”

“Love you too,” mumbled Josh. “Love you too, bud.”

I was emotional and grateful and very, very drunk. It’s how I found myself upstairs on the balcony on the first floor – or was it the second? – dialling Caspien’s number. It went to voicemail as expected.

“Isssme,” I slurred. “Again. I mean ‘mshure you know that. ANYway...it’s my birthday today, happyfucking birthday to me I guess...” I tailed off, sliding down the metal balustrade a little before righting myself. “And hereiam out here freezing my dick off talkin’ t’yu. But, you knowwwhat? I feel greatttt. Vodka is actually really great. MUCH better than shhhampagne anyway. I hate shssshampagne. And I hate you. Yeah, I actually decided that tonight, I hate you. Gidyeon saidyoudint hate me but he’s verrrrry incorrect about that, but I wanted to make shhhure that you know I hateyoumore.”

I paused and took a very deep breath. The air seemed to hiss and sizzle inside the heat of my chest before bursting out in white, boozy plumes.

“I hateyou forleaving me with this. This thinginsde me that never goes away.” I was quiet for a minute, morose. “But whateverr. I‘m probably going to lose my virginity tonight.” This I found hilarious for some reason and broke off into a fit of laughter. “Anyway, I hopeyourehappy. In swit-ZER-LAND. See you never I guess.”

By the time I’d hung up I was sitting on the ground of the balcony, my arse numb from the cold. I could hear dance music playing from below, through the open balcony door. I’m not sure how long I was there before Ellie appeared and let out a loud gasp as she dashed toward me.

“What are you doing out here!? You’ll freeze to death!”

She somehow managed to get me off the ground and into the house, levering me upstairs to the spare room Malina had earlier given me. I tumbled onto the bed, and Ellie disappeared. She returned some unknowable amount of time later with a bottle of water and some white tablets she forced me to swallow.

“‘msorry,” I said.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” she said, smiling fondly. “It’s your birthday.”

“Timezzit?”

“Uh, just before ten. Why don’t you sleep it off for a bit, and I’ll come wake you up before I go?”

I nodded, and the entire three-story house tilted on its foundations.

When I woke again, it was morning. Foul, grey light stabbing through the crack in the blinds. I felt a body pressed next to me and turned to find Ellie half-naked with an arm slung over me.

I felt every trace of alcohol left in my body evaporate instantly. Sobriety rushing at me like a steam train. I sat up immediately and looked down. I was only wearing boxers. I was also hard, painfully so. I glanced around the room for some evidence of what might have happened – did we…? Surely I wouldn’t have. Christ, surely she wouldn’t have? Not when I was in that state.

If we had, were we careful? Be sensible, please. We’re trusting you.

Ellie’s red dress was nowhere to be seen, though her black shoes lay where she looked to have kicked them off by the foot of the bed. My mouth was sour and dry, my tongue coated with the hide of some dead animal.

A half-full bottle of water was by the bed, so I drained it and slipped out of bed, the room swivelling sickeningly. I looked for my phone to check the time: the house was deadly silent, and it felt early by the murky light I could see outside. My phone wasn’t by the bed or under it, so I tried to remember when I’d last seen it. Or used it.

In the ensuite, I emptied my bladder, painfully, given how bloody hard I was. The stream was a lurid amber colour and smelled like rotten fruit. I ran the tap and washed my face with cold water, then I looked at myself in the mirror, searching my eyes for some clue as to whether I was still a virgin or not. Surely, if I couldn’t remember doing it, then I wouldn’t have been able to? What could I remember doing?

I remembered the gifts. I remembered the pizza. I remembered playing pool, badly. Josh and Alfie and me singing. I remembered kissing Ellie upstairs on the living room couch. Why had she stayed? Finding some toothpaste under the sink, I rubbed some over my teeth to try and clear the taste of alcohol.

In the bedroom, Ellie was still sleeping. I sat down on the bed and stared at her, terror swimming in my mind and gut at the thought of having forced her or hurt her in some way. Surely, I wouldn’t, regardless of how incapacitated I was.

I thought about us being stupid and not using anything and the consequences of that. No, she was sensible. Smart. I knew she was. And if I’d hurt her, then surely she wouldn’t have gotten under the blankets and held me while I slept?

Reaching out, I gently shook her awake. She moaned softly before cracking open her eyes. I waited a beat for her to come more awake, for some expression to move into her eyes that I could try and decipher. She sat up, frowning. I couldn’t stop my eyes from dipping down at her exposed breasts. They were perfect. Nipples darker than I’d ever seen in any picture or in any film.

“You okay?” She reached out and brushed her hand over my shoulder and down my arm.

“How come you’re here?”

“I came up to wake you, to say I was leaving, and you threw up all over me.”

“Fuck,” I said, horrified. “I’m so sorry.”

“Alf wasn’t much better, and Josh was already asleep. I didn’t want to leave you in case you threw up in your sleep or something.”

“Did George go?”

“Yeah, she asked to stay, but her dad...”

I nodded in understanding. Georgia’s dad was terrifying.

“What about you? Your parents thought you were there? Aren’t they gonna know?”

She shrugged. “I’ll deal with it when I get home. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

I felt such a rush of gratitude for her then that I almost burst into tears. Instead, I pulled her into a hug. Took a deep inhale of her hair.

“I’m sorry about your dress.”

“It’s fine,” she said, rubbing my back. “I probably wouldn’t have worn it again anyway.”

“It was really pretty though,” I said miserably.

She laughed softly. “Okay, I’ll buy another one.”

I said. “I think maybe I’m not cut out for drinking.”

“I think maybe it was all the ‘birthday shots’ the boys were forcing you to drink.”

“I think maybe I need to take responsibility for my own actions.”

“Well, that’s very grown-up of you.”

We sat like that for a bit, her arms wrapped around me, her nakedness pressed against me until I felt almost human again.

“I thought maybe we’d...you know. Last night.” Now I was certain we hadn’t.

“Jude, you were comatose.”

“Well, maybe I was really irresistible covered in sick and comatose, maybe you couldn’t resist me.”

She sat back to hit me lightly on the chest. “You wish!”

The softness in her eyes was such a relief that I felt almost dizzy from it. I tackled her to the bed and buried my face in her neck. At first, she shrieked, but then, as my hands roamed up her body, she went quiet, her breathing turning quick.

I didn’t touch her bare breasts; it felt too serious, but I did skim my hand up the side of her thigh and over her hip as my playful growls turned to soft kisses. When she turned her body and arched into me, I knew what she wanted. I asked anyway.

“Can I...touch you here?” I looked at the perfect round tits and the quickly hardening nipple, and my mouth watered. I’d never wanted her as much as this.

“Yes, please, Jude.”

I moved down her body and closed my mouth over it, instinct telling me to suck and kiss and bite just a little. Ellie gasped, and I flicked my tongue over it. Then her hands were in my hair, and her skin was in my mouth, and I wondered if it was over, the madness that had taken hold of me this summer. It was her who reached for her knickers and began to push them down.

I leaned up and looked into her eyes, finding her smiling, tender and soft. I pushed my own boxers down, and her breaths turned quicker.

Naked, she spread her legs and let me between them.

“The condoms,” she panted to me. I froze, embarrassment heating my cheeks. She was sensible.

“Where are they?”

“In my bag,” she gasped, sounding nervous, as she gestured over my shoulder. I climbed off her and went across the room towards the chair, my whole body feeling large and hollow with only my heart beating inside of it, a thunderous echoing thing.

My hands shaking, I tore one from the strip and made my way back to her.

“Get another in case it breaks.”

I didn’t understand this but did it anyway. As I pulled the first one around the head with clumsy, unskilled fingers and the rim tore away from its sleeve, I understood. I started again.

Time froze as I carefully rolled the sheaf of rubber over myself and lowered myself back down between her legs again.

When I pointed it toward the hot space between her thighs, jabbing it against her, she winced.

“Sorry,” I said, barely able to hear my own voice over the sound of my heartbeat.

“It’s fine, it’s okay.” She was smiling at me so fondly, so full of complete and utter (misplaced) trust that I felt overwhelmed, and the words slipped out.

“Ellie, I love you,” I said.

She looked like she would cry and reached up quickly to kiss me. I know I must have tasted of vomit and terror, but if she noticed, she didn’t show it.

“I love you too, Jude,” she whispered, clinging to me.