Page 62 of Oleander
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 rushedsouth, 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 thatwouldlast 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.