Wasted by Nicola Morgan Page B

turned out the same anyway. It’s one of those many things that we cannot know.

CHAPTER 15
AN UNLUCKY MEETING
    â€œREALLY,” says Jess.
    â€œReally what?” says Jack, humouring her. Her throwing up very close to his feet has not altered his feelings for her. It will take more than that, much more. Of course, he wishes he was dancing with her in the club right now, not walking her home so early, but he’d rather be walking her home than not with her at all.
    â€œReally not drunk. Listen.” She stops. She feels sick again. Takes out the water bottle and drinks several small sips. Feels better. Swills her mouth out and spits onto the ground. Fumbles more in her bag and finds some mints. The taste and coldness help. Now she can’t remember what she was going to tell him. She swallows, breathes deeply. There’s a wolf in the bushes and she fights to quell her fear.
There is not a wolf in the bushes
, she tells herself.
    â€œThere’s a wolf in the bushes,” she says.
    â€œNo, there isn’t. There are no wolves in Britain.”
    â€œYou don’t know that.” She knows there’s no wolf in the bushes and that he is right. But it doesn’t help. Fear invades her. “Jack, wanta go home.”
    â€œThat’s where we’re going, Jess.”
    â€œProtect me from the wolves.” She laughs. But she doesn’t feel amused. It’s just a laugh that appears. Bit like the wolf, not really there but very much there.
    â€œI’ll protect you from wolves. And dragons. And ucinorms.”
    â€œUnicorms.”
    He laughs. They walk on, in silence. Jack keeps a watchful eye; for what, he does not know. Not wolves, but anything else. There are a few people around, cars. No one takes any notice of them. He thinks about Jess and how much he likes her. Even like this.
    Jess thinks about other things. She remembers something. “I was going to say…”
    She stops walking, turns to him, pale in the strange half-moon, half streetlight, half not-quite-blackness. Three halves – he knows that’s not right but
What the hell: we’re not at school now
. He feels drops of water on his face. It is beginning to rain. Her hair hangs in seaweedy tendrils and she looks like something from a Greek myth.
    â€œKeep walking, Jess. We’re nearly home.”
    She keeps walking but talking too. “OK, I know I seem drunk. And yes, OK, I am. A bit.”
    â€œQuite a lot, actually,” Jack says. Rain is coming on fast. He speeds them both up.
    â€œYes, but it’s more than that. I felt really weird. Really. Really. Still do bit. Can’t explain. But the wolves. And back there in the club – was horrible. There were animals and… Not what happens when you’re drunk.”
    Large round globules of warm rainwater splash on their faces. “Jess, let’s run – can you manage?” They run, him half dragging her, to the shelter of some trees. He pulls her to a halt, puts his arms round her and they stand like that, protected. A car passes and some young men shout from the windows at them, making crude gestures.
    The smell of the rain is rich and organic. No other aroma is like it: in the whole world, only rain smells of rain. The sound of it rushes through the leaves. Jess tilts her head back and licks the water from around her mouth. Her hair is flat on her forehead. Jack takes a strand and lifts it off her face. With the tips of his fingers he wipes the rain and hair from her eyes. He almost cannot breathe with the beauty of her. He feels himself wanting her.
    â€œSo thirsty,” she says. She takes the water from her bag again. “Really tired now. Legs like lead. Head. Need bed.”
    â€œWe need to get you home, Jess. Come on – the rain isn’t going to stop. Let’s go.” And they hurry on through the rain, Jack pulling Jess, and Jess just wishing she could lie down there and then.
    He