It Sounded Better in My Head - Nina Kenwood Page 0,8

know why Zach is saying no—he thinks his brother and especially his brother’s friends are not Good People, and that I will be in way over my head at their party. Both of which are probably true. Lucy is thinking that Owen is hot and he’s inviting me somewhere, so I should go, and also—possibly—that she and Zach can have a guilt-free night alone. All of this is true too.

I look at Owen.

‘Who’s Benny?’

‘Our friend. He’s cool. You’ll like him.’

‘Okay. I’ll go.’ I say it before I can chicken out. I can’t actually believe I’ve said these words. I don’t go to things. I hate going to things. Most especially parties.

‘Give me your number and I’ll text you the details,’ Owen says, pulling out his phone. I can practically feel Lucy vibrating with excitement from the other couch.

I say my number out loud, twice, because I can’t stand the thought that this opportunity might be lost because he mistyped a number. He sends me a text straight away, the smiling emoji with sunglasses. That self-assured little emoji face has never looked so beautiful.

‘Now you’ve got my number,’ Owen says, unnecessarily.

I am trying to ignore the fact that I find his personality a tiny bit dull. ‘Awesome,’ I say. I hate the word awesome. It slips out when I’m nervous.

After Alex and Owen leave, Lucy grabs me and shakes me. ‘You’re going to a party with Owen Sinclair!’

‘I know,’ I say.

We hold each other’s arms and squeal and jump up and down, and when Zach looks disgusted, we do it again and collapse with laughter.

Mariella pokes her head into the room. ‘Everything all right in here?’

‘Natalie is going to a party with Owen.’

‘Owen Sinclair?’

‘Yes.’

‘Oh, goodness.’ Mariella looks surprised, pleased and worried all at once.

‘See? Mum thinks it’s a bad idea.’ Zach looks triumphant, even though normally agreeing with his mother about something like this would automatically make him change his mind.

‘Don’t worry. I’m not going to fall in love with him or anything,’ I say, even though I am already running multiple fantasies of our romance through my head. (Scene: Owen and I holding hands, walking into a cool cafe, filled with everyone I disliked from school, who all turn their heads and stare at us. I’m wearing an amazing leather jacket and my hair is falling in gentle waves, and someone takes a perfectly lit photo of us laughing together over coffee that somehow ends up all over social media because in this scenario we’re also low-level famous.)

Later that night, lying in bed, unable to sleep, I decide the best thing about agreeing to go to the party is that I am so stressed and worried about it that I have hardly any space left in my head to think about my parents.

4

Patrick Swayze and Other People’s Bathrooms

Mum pulls up across the road from Benny’s house (whoever Benny is—I’m still not entirely sure). I can hear the thump of music coming from the party. It seems very loud. I wonder if the police will turn up. Could I be arrested? I’m still getting used to the idea of going to the house of someone who doesn’t live with their parents.

‘You sure you’re okay?’ Mum asks.

I’m obviously still extremely mad at her about the separation, and even more so for lying to me for a year, but my anger is on a temporary hold for tonight so she could drive me to the party.

I’m freaking out and I need my mother.

‘Of course,’ I say.

But I don’t get out of the car. I’m so nervous I could throw up. I don’t know if Owen is there yet, but I don’t want to message him and ask. He said he would be there at eight. He didn’t say ‘I’ll meet you there’ or anything. He just wrote We’ll be there at 8 and the address. It’s 8.45. He must be in there. But he hasn’t texted me to see where I am, so he’s either not there or he’s there and doesn’t care that I’m not there. It’s a lose–lose scenario.

‘We can just go home, you know,’ Mum says. She has pushed me to socialise since I was ten years old, and now here I am at a party and she’s trying to sabotage me.

‘No thanks.’ I cross my arms, so she can’t see that my hands are shaking.

‘You can go to parties without going to this party,’ she says.

‘I’m going.’

‘Okay.’

‘In one minute.’

‘Okay.’

We sit in silence for about thirty seconds and then I