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‘I don’t care who my dad is,’ I say. ‘I totally honestly don’t.’ I pause. ‘A while back someone at school said maybe my dad was a rapist. You know, like he raped my mum and she didn’t abort me? And that’s why she’s never had a boyfriend or anything.’
‘Wow.’ Her eyes have widened. ‘That’s some messed-up shit.’
‘Yeah. I mean, I don’t believe it, but it’s the only time I’ve ever cared about who he was. The rest, well. It’s hard to miss a ghost. I don’t even have a photograph.’
‘Did you tell your mum about the rapist thing?’
‘Yeah. She was horrified. She was fussing around me, re-assuring me.’ I laugh. ‘How fucked up is it to be reassured that your dad is just some bloke your mum shagged round the back of a pub after drinking too much.’
I see her face.
‘I’m exaggerating. It wasn’t round the back of a pub, but she says it was a drunken one-night stand.’
‘At least she can’t have a go at you for anything to do with sex.’
I laugh again, but I’m thinking of last night. My first sex. The only sex I’ve had. Shit sex. I can’t imagine having any one-night stands. ‘I haven’t told her about Courtney yet.’
‘Are you guys a proper thing now?’
I stare down at my cooling coffee. ‘He wants it to be. I’m not so sure.’
‘I thought you were crazy about him. Was it the sex? First time’s always bad, so don’t judge him on it. Unless it was you who was shit.’
I half-heartedly throw a cushion at her. ‘Shut up. It’s not that. It’s complicated.’
‘Someone else?’
She sits up straighter, curious, and I know I should have lied and said everything was fine. I need to shut this down. ‘Maybe.’ Everything I say is potentially making it worse. I wish I hadn’t opened my mouth. If Jodie tells Ange I’m interested in someone, she’s going to presume it’s someone at school and be on my case all the time to know who. I’ll have to make someone up. Pick some boy at random. I can’t think of anyone I fancy in Year Thirteen. ‘But it’s only a crush.’ My face is flushing with worry. ‘It’s not going tobeanything.’
‘Don’t worry. I won’t say anything to Ange,’ Jodie says, reading my mind. ‘I love her, but she’s got a big gob and I wouldn’t want her knowing my secrets, if I had any.’
‘Or the others?’ I ask. ‘I don’t want it to be a thing. I’m sure me and Courtney will be fine.’
‘I swear,’ she says. ‘Your secret’s safe. But if anything happens, you have to tell me first. Deal?’
‘Deal.’
For a moment I’m tempted to tell her everything. To tell her what’s really turned me off Courtney. The friend request. The messages. Everything abouthim. But suddenly, she’s up on her feet and saying I should grab the spare room shower and she’ll use her en-suite, and then we should go.
‘Shit,’ I say when we get back to mine and I’m rummaging in my bag. ‘I’ve lost my keys.’
‘Check the car floor,’ Jodie leans over. ‘I always find stuff down there.’
I scrabble around under the seat, but they’re not there. My house key, swim-locker key and school-locker key, all on a key ring with a pair of big red Mick Jagger lips. Gone.
‘Nope. Fuck it. Where can they be?’
Jodie roots around but comes up empty-handed, and then it dawns on me. ‘That dumb bitch in the pub who knocked my bag over.’
‘What about her?’
‘I don’t remember picking my keys up.’
‘You must have.’ She looks in my bag as if maybe my eyes aren’t working properly. ‘She was helping pick stuff up. Maybe she put them in a side pocket.’
I let her look, but I’ve already searched everything.
‘Your mum’s in though, right?’ she says.