Page 60 of Honey and Spice

Nile posed himself as cure and absolution. He was kissing my neck again, and I turned my face so he could kiss the feeling out of me because I was feeling too much, and it didn’t feel like a first kiss, no fireworks, not a candle lit, rather it was like a tourniquet around a wound to staunch the flow of blood.

It wasn’t enough. Even as his hands slipped up my bra and squeezed and I let him, hoping he would squeeze all the feeling out, it wasn’t enough. It was wrong, so wrong. This experience wasn’t mine. It was his. He wasn’t mine, he was Rianne’s. None of what was happening belonged to me. I wasn’t in control. I pushed him off, for good this time, sloppily but stronger now, because even though his tongue hadn’t lapped up feeling, it had soaked up some of the alcohol and sobered me.

He was saying something about me not telling anyone, but I barely heard him and ran out of the room, out of the house, past Lysha and Yinda, all the way back to my home.

I’d texted Rianne the next day.

Keeks:I’m sorry, so sorry. Something happened. I don’t know how to say this. Can I see you? I was drunk and confused. He said things. I shouldn’t have done it. He said you said—no excuse—but did you say? Did you say that?

It was too late. News travels fast when everyone in your community is in possession of a small rectangular computer that fits in your back pocket. Nile got ahead of the narrative quickly. I got upset about my mum so he took me upstairs to get away from it all, he said. Brother type, no motives. I was drunk, sloppy, messy. I’d tried it on with him. I’d got upset when he rejected me—like, come on, did I expect that he’d be into me when he had Rianne. “LOL.”

Nile had got to Rianne before I did, that night apparently. He knew I would tell her. Rianne called me words I’d only just got the confidence to think, via text. I felt like I deserved them. Red hot rage in text bubbles and then an immediate wall of ice—I’d been blocked.

The school had given me a home-schooling option for that half of the term because of my mum. I’d never taken them up on it before because I felt like I needed the normality of school. Laughable. I stopped going to school. My grades were good enough, and we were at the stage of the term where everything was essentially exam prep. Aside from exams, I didn’t have to see anyone. Allegiances had been quickly drawn: Yinda defaulted to Rianne, understandably. Lysha too, on the surface, but she texted me a couple of times after a few weeks of radio silence.

Lysha:Gotta be honest, K, this is dark shit. I know you’re going through some shit but this is dark shit. I’m talking iron tablet, dark shit bruv. But it don’t sound like you. I’m worried. I shouldn’t do this but you know I’m here. Yeah? I know you’re not ok. Also, Nile is a prick. I don’t trust a word he says. Call me.

I never called her. What was the point? People believed what they wanted to believe. I was going to leave soon, leave school behind, my mess behind. I could start somewhere else all over again and situate myself outside, never get entangled. I could keep people safe from my chaos and keep myself safe from chaos. You couldn’t be caught out if you kept yourself out.