Chapter Nine

Hayden

Most Likely to Succeed

I, for one, think I have been extremely successful in socialising tonight. And, more impressively, have not screamed in anybody s face when they express sympathy for the turn my life took after school. It s also nearly an hour and a half into the evening, and I m still here.

By those measures, I am smashing this whole reunion thing.

I busy myself with the small crowd that are arranging the pizza boxes on the trestle tables, if only for the excuse of a breather between small talk and mingling. Even if there are some people here I m enjoying catching up with, there are so many I barely spoke to when we were spending five days a week stuck in the same building - the same classrooms - and who I m struggling to really care about now. It feels - forced. Fake.

Everybody else is either doing a much better job of pretending than I am, or else I ve reverted into my judgemental seventeen-year-old self, assuming the worst of them. But when people like Josh or Elise or Tommy ask what I m up to these days, when they barely bothered with me back in school in the first place, it s hard to believe they re genuinely interested in the answer.

It s entirely possible that I m jaded by the pity parade everybody seems to be throwing me, but still.

Instead of returning to the group I just excused myself from - an odd mix of people I wouldn t have seen together outside enforced group projects - I seek out Ashleigh. I spot the back of her head and see her gesturing animatedly with one hand. Maybe I can hide in her shadow for a little while.

Funny, how I used to do that at school. We were both nerdy and conscientious, but Ashleigh never had that introverted streak I did. She was happy to stand up in front of a year-wide assembly and corral people into a fundraiser or project, and never took shit off anybody. It was hard to pay attention to me when Ashleigh was so much more noticeable, but I was always relieved when my overachievements went largely ignored by everybody else; it felt like one less thing to be bullied or teased about. She offered me a bit of breathing space in which I didn t feel forced to defend myself.

And I know, logically, that it was a case of wrong time, wrong place . That, for the most part, my classmates were not my sort of people - and I wasn t theirs either. I was a geek deemed just likeable enough to be included in things like orchestra trips or Shaun s house parties, but my interests were things that my peers found boring or stupid. Which was alright, because my interests were mine , and I didn t want anyone else to join in anyway.

I m not quite as shy and nervous as I used to be.

Except, of course, for the indisputable fact that I apparently am, at least for the purpose of tonight. And rather than face another round of people I barely remember telling me what a shame it is that I had to quit uni and then asking why I never went back after Margot was born, or having them ask what I m up to these days with that gleam of expectation in their eyes that dies away so quickly when they learn the truth, I would much rather lurk near Ashleigh and defer to her achievements instead.

It s easier. Safer.

Any excuse to avoid thinking about the person they all expected me to become, the dreams and ambitions I used to have for myself so long ago that I m struggling to remember the me who first conceived of them.

I grab two plates and load each with a few slices of pizza before the hordes descend, then pick my way across the room. I slip into the group at Ashleigh s side and hand her one of the plates. She tosses me a grateful smile, but is mid-flow, telling people about the first time a drug she worked on was approved and made readily available to hospitals and patients, so I fall into the lull of nodding in all the right places along with everybody else.

Bryony is with her, and snatches a slice off the plate as if the pair of them have always been so close. Ooh, thanks Hayden! You re a star. Ashleigh doesn t acknowledge her either, too into her storytelling, and I wonder if it s bothering her that Bryony seems to have attached herself at her side tonight. I half expect it to be part of some childish prank - like a full Carrie moment is waiting just around the corner, except maybe with a bucket of glitter instead of pig s blood, knowing Bryony. But right now, she s all smiles and bubbly personality, so maybe I m being too harsh. Maybe Ashleigh s just the shiny new thing, or, an even wilder concept, Bryony is genuinely interested in reconnecting. If Ash and I weren t good friends these days, I probably wouldn t care either way. I wonder if she cares.

It s just so rewarding, she says now, raising her voice to half a shout, to know that what I m doing is making a real difference to people s lives. Saving them, even.

My brow furrows as I give her a quizzical look. I know Ash is proud of the work she does and the moral fibre of it really grounds her, but she s not the type to boast about it, make it seem so performative.

Before I can ask, though, I hear a raised voice a short distance behind us, and Ryan Lawal is saying, Obviously it was a huge compliment for the PM to call me in for the initiative when I was still relatively new to the world of politics, but that just goes to show, doesn t it? Massively successful launch, and I visited several schools personally to see just what a positive impact it had on the kids lives.

Ah.

That explains it.

I look over at him, but Ryan determinedly has his back to us. Not to us - to Ashleigh. There s a stretch of space between the two of them, a void that everybody seems to be skirting around rather than risk getting sucked into it. His posture is infused with that easy, natural confidence he s always possessed and Ashleigh makes no move to suggest she cares if he overheard her, or that she heard him - but that tether between the two of them is almost tangible.

I roll my eyes and smirk down at my plate.

I just think, Ashleigh says then, unprompted, that the government funding into this sort of research - for degenerative diseases that affect such large numbers of the population - is sadly lacking.

Well, says a guy I vaguely recognise from A-level maths, the state of the NHS these days

And a woman who I think is someone s partner because I definitely don t recognise her, takes the position of devil s advocate to say, I totally agree. But I can understand why developing new medicines has to take a back seat to, say, funding nurses salaries.

Mm, it s very sad when people get such tunnel vision about things and can t appreciate the big picture, Ryan is saying to his own group, though his voice carries as if it s part of our conversation too. A real shame. Runs the risk of being quite selfish, though I m sure that s not really the intention.

Ashleigh bristles, lips pursing into a small, tight pucker for a brief moment, the only sign that she was paying attention to him.

She shoves a slice of pizza into her mouth and chews violently. This time, she casts me a look that lets me know she s the one who needs saving.

So I tell the group, Er, the pizza s here, if you wanted any.

Ashleigh sighs, short and sharp, and barely audible.

But, pathetic as my attempt to steal the spotlight is, it works enough that the guy from maths (Paul? No, that can t be right, there were no Pauls in our year) says, Haven t seen you yet tonight, Hayden! How s things, mate? What re you up to these days, anything exciting?

Bryony reaches her arm across Ashleigh s front and lays her hand lightly on my sleeve. Her nails are long and glitter bright pink. Only the most exciting adventure! You re a stay-at-home dad for the most part now, aren t you, Hayden? Now I bet that s rewarding.

Um. I scratch the back of my neck, not sure if that s supposed to be an insult or not. A couple of people laugh; is it that laugh that you do to fill space and keep the mood up, or are they in on Bryony s joke too, if it does exist? I clear my throat and say, Yeah, it s quite an adventure, I suppose. I work in software development, too, but that s all remote now and the hours are flexible. I m thinking of moving to full time now both the girls are in school, but I ve been saying that for the last year and still haven t spoken to my boss about it.

I laugh, and wait for them to join in, but this time they re all quiet. Ashleigh manages a smile, but she s still got a mouth full of pizza.

Because the girls just take up so much of my time, I go on, but that doesn t sound right. It s not right. It s true, but not the truth . I pause, floundering for the right way to phrase it, but Steph s friend Thea is nodding along and making sympathetic noises.

I bet. And childcare is so expensive, isn t it? My sister s always banging on about that. She still hasn t gone back to work since her maternity leave, and that was four years ago, now. It must be so tricky to balance.

Noodles Greg, who I hadn t noticed join the group, pitches in. No wonder you re stagnating, Hayden! You had to give everything up for those kids. Maybe soon though, eh? Now they re getting a bit older and that. Never too late to turn it all around!

Bryony nods fiercely. Exactly!

Turn it around?

You know, get out there and make a name for yourself. Do all those cool things you could ve done otherwise. I mean, you should be the boss. Greg laughs. Still plenty of time to do something and make a thirty under thirty list, right?

I, er, yes. I suppose there is.

And you must have something you re working on, Thea says, with an encouraging nod. I always remember you shutting yourself up in the DT rooms or somewhere because you were coding something or working on those robots you used to play around with. Stuff like that. Do you still do that?

Not so much, these days.

Oh, that s such a shame! You were always tinkering about! Making stuff!

Yeah, not-Paul from maths says. It was so awesome - why d you give it up? You could be making tons off that, I bet.

Awesome. My attempt at a polite smile tightens into a brittle line and my teeth clench. They didn t used to think it was awesome ten years ago, when it was just geeky and weird. But now - oh, of course, now that they recognise it could be worth money, that it might add up to something they use in their everyday lives - now , it s cool.

I try to think about the last time I settled into one of those projects, the sort I used to do at school. Passion projects, my parents and teachers tended to call them, and it was an apt label - I was passionate about the work. It was exciting; a novel take on something that provided just enough of a challenge to get the gears in my brain spinning. Testing it to see if it worked this time was the best kind of adrenaline rush.

How long has it been since I last did something like that?

I still invent things, but these days it s games for Margot and Skye or bedtime stories. I did program a mobile with different settings when Skye was born - it played different songs and shone different lights depending on the setting, and what sort of mood she was in. That s the only thing I can remember making in the last ten years.

I have endless lists of notes on my phone. Scraps of ideas, or photos of diagrams scrawled haphazardly in crayon that I wanted to jot down for myself while I sat colouring with the girls - diagrams that promptly ended up scribbled over or coloured in and which I never felt any great sense of attachment to beyond a fleeting concept. Easier to get it down on paper to come back to later, rather than letting it take up space in my brain where it would fester and grow and threaten to take over when I had other - real - responsibilities to deal with. More important things that required that energy and focus.

Later , I think, any time that happens. Another time.

It s never been later . That wistful other time has never transpired.

I wonder what my teenage self would make of that. Not the stay-at-home dad stuff or the university drop-out status - but giving up. Reprioritising. Brushing that spark and passion aside like it means so little, is so unimportant, when it used to feel more essential to me than oxygen.

I wonder what he d think of the fact I ve forgotten what it s like to let myself dream.

It s a stark realisation to discover that I ve forgotten I ever even had those sorts of dreams, once upon a time.

My mouth drops open as I try to think up a response - anything , anything at all - as the others watch me expectantly. Nothing comes out.

Ashleigh finally steps in with an offhand laugh. Come on, guys, you really think he s about to spill all to you? Hayden s projects have always been top secret until they re ready to go out into the world. If he told you, he d have to kill you.

My smile returns and I laugh along with everybody else, but the tension remains in my shoulders. Not-Paul starts talking about some start-up he used to work for that was developing an app for home and online security for public figures and celebrities, and all the NDAs that had involved.

Nice! Noodles Greg says. Are you still there? Did you get to meet any of the celebs and that?

Oh, no. It started coming under quite a lot of scrutiny. Data-leak risks, stuff like that, paparazzi hacking accounts. I left; it didn t seem like the sort of thing I wanted to be involved in.

The group nods along sagely and I join in by default, but Bryony interrupts.

I remember that app. Didn t they go bust? Lose a shedload of money getting sued by the beta users because of violation of privacy, and some people at the company were selling the info on? And you were really all-in before that, I thought. You worked on building their partnerships, didn t you?

He flushes a shade of puce I ve never actually seen on a human. Well, yes, for a time, but of course I knew I had to pack it in as soon as I realised there was anything shady about it and leave before it all got, er, out of hand.

Bryony s head tilts sideways. Really? You know, I m sure I saw you post on LinkedIn about suddenly being made redundant - you were reaching out to your network to see if anybody had similar jobs going you could move on to.

Well. Er. You know. It coincided.

Bryony s scoff is audible. Riiiight. I mean, I totally have some connections if you re still looking, though. It s got to be hard to move on after you ve been sacked from a place that s been dragged for filth by the media like that.

Better to take the redundancy pay-out, he says, a bit too quickly and firmly, eyes whipping around the rest of us. But technically I had already chosen to leave, so, that s

I think I might go and get some pizza, you know, says Thea.

Good shout, Greg says.

The group peel away one by one, and not-Paul (what is his name? Do I care enough to ask if Ashleigh knows it? Probably not) vanishes, too, looking agitated and flustered.

What a prat, Ashleigh mutters.

I don t know who she s talking about - it could be his careful rearranging of the truth, or even Bryony for embarrassing him. But I nod anyway.

She steals a glance over her shoulder. Ryan has moved on somewhere else; Ashleigh scowls.

Oh, right. Him.

Maybe he had a point about that tunnel vision. Just a minor one.

Bryony gives us both a bright smile, completely oblivious, and moves to slot herself between us and steer us to another group of people. She loops her arms through ours and I m too taken aback to pull away.

Come on, you two. Let s go stir up some more gossip, shall we?

I decide I ve made a dreadful mistake tonight: self-imposed success markers aside, I should have bailed when I had the chance.