Do You Remember the First Time?

the police. I’m not going to see a boy, so don’t panic.’
    And I set off into the night.
    A passing car hooted at me as I walked down the road towards Tashy’s flat. Oh, thank you, Britney, for making everyone in a uniform fair sexual game. I kicked ferociously at every pile of leaves in my path. Bugger this and bugger everything. Well, I’d pissed on my chips in every conceivable direction. What was left for me – single, aged sixteen, having dumped a man who was prepared to marry me whatever age I was, and off to see my girlfriend preparing for a marriage I’d provoked severe doubts about, whilst watching my parents go through another civil war? One I’d just chucked a bomb into.
    How on earth was I going to live in an Audrey Hepburn apartment in New York? Not now. Not ever, probably. I wasn’t going to be anyone’s muse in Paris.
    I tried again to snarl at the moon. It came out as a kind of small growl.
    ‘Grrrr!’ I shouted. Quietly.
    Just because my age was different. It wasn’t going to change a damn thing.
    ‘GRRR!’
    Nobody was on the street. Nobody turned round.
    ‘AAAAARRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!’ I yelled suddenly.
    ‘Bloody teenagers,’ said a woman loudly, passing by with a very large dog and a very small man. ‘Probably high on drugs.’
    ‘YYYYYYEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAR-RRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!’
    That was better. I could feel my lungs opening up. I was in the world’s most ridiculous position. I was hurting pretty much all over. But I could still make a very loud noise.
    ‘AARRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!’
    Tashy came running down the garden path. ‘Is that you making all that noise?’
    ‘NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!’
    ‘For goodness’ sake, be quiet.’
    ‘You’re sounding more and more like my evil elder sister every day.’
    ‘Ooh, get you, Avril Lavigne. What are you shouting for?’
    ‘’Cos everything’s fucked up.’
    She looked to the side. ‘Are you on drugs?’
    ‘Do we ever take drugs?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘So why would I be taking drugs now as someone who would get immediately caught, killed, arrested or laughed at if I attempted to get my hands on anything?’
    ‘Well, you know what they say about schools these days.’
    ‘That’s right, Tashy, and if you don’t let me into the houseright now I’m going to kill you with my Uzi, which I bought from a big kid at the gates with my lunch money, in order to get off my tits on drugs.’
    She didn’t immediately stand aside to let me pass, though.
    ‘What?’ I said. ‘Are you not talking to me? Have we officially fallen out somehow? Please say that’s not true. Something awful’s just happened at home, and—’
    ‘It’s not that.’
    I could hear voices from inside the house.
    ‘You’ve got people over?’
    She shrugged.
    ‘It’s OK,’ I said, raising my eyes to heaven. ‘I understand if you don’t want to invite a very precocious teenager to your dinner parties.’
    ‘It’s not that. It’s just … we were having a bit of a summit.’
    I looked up, and there, behind her, his hair messy and his shirt crumpled, looking tired, was Olly.
    ‘That man,’ I said, still a bit exhilarated from screeching my head off, ‘has an amazing habit of creeping up silently almost anywhere.’
    ‘Don’t let her in, would you, Tash?’ said Olly unhappily.
    ‘No. I’m sorry,’ I said, and, instantly, I was. ‘Please, let me in. Please, Tashy. I have nowhere else to go. My parents are fighting, and all I’ve done all day is drive everyone nuts. And I haven’t had the chance to apologise properly, to you, Olly. I’m so sorry. Please let me stay. Please.’
    Tashy looked at me. ‘You know, it’s not fair to make very small girl’s puppy eyes.’
    ‘It really fucking isn’t,’ came Olly’s voice behind her.
    ‘It’s either this or buying some chips and hanging around the bus stop,’ I said. ‘I might get carried away by all thatWhite Lightning cider, and who knows what might happen?’
    ‘You come in, sit down, shut up and behave,’ said Tashy, standing aside. ‘We’re not happy with you.’
    ‘Yes, Brown Owl,’ I said meekly, and slipped inside.
    Olly and Tash hovered in the sitting room.
    ‘Can I have a beer?’ I said.
    ‘No!’ they said.
    ‘I think if you’re discussing me behind my back the Geneva Convention says I’m allowed a beer.’
    ‘Has she always been such a spoiled brat?’ asked Tashy to Ol.
    ‘Yes, I think so,’ said Oliver. ‘I just didn’t notice with all the