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“Imogen? Do you remember my cousin Fatima?”
“Is she the one that said she’d gotten us weed but it turned out it was oregano? I don’t know what we smoked but it smelled awful and I don’t think we got high at all.”
“Nah, that was Asma. And yes - it definitely wasn’t weed.” Sahar laughs and turns to look at me. She’s sat at my vanity applying eyeliner, perfecting her smoky eye. She’s become a real rock star this summer. First the summer fete, then a few other shows around town. I would know. I’ve gone to every one. I’ll always go to every one. I’m sat on the edge of my bed, watching her while eyeing my closet and deciding what to wear.
“Fatima is the younger one,” she continues. “Anyway - we were talking at my auntie’s house last week and she told me that a new guy turned up at her school last year. She said he was kind of shy at first? But that he started hanging around with her friend group before the summer break. Told them a funny story about getting dumped in Paris by his girlfriend on a school trip in Year 11.”
It’s my turn to stop and look at Sahar. Her eyebrow is cocked as she waits for my response.
“You cannot mean who I think you mean. Sahar. What??”
“The one and only. Ben. Hope.”
I glare at her. “Ben? Ben Hope?? Is talking about me? Now?? Ugh. Why? Has he nothing else to talk about? At his new school?? We didn’t even go out for that long! And he was a horrible boyfriend! Truly, the worst! What did he say about me? Sahar, I swear, if I hear that he’s talking shit about me to people who don’t even know me -”
At this point, I am close to yelling and my voice keeps pitching higher and higher. I sound like my mother.
“Imogen.” It’s not my name that stops the spiral. It’s Sahar’s steady hands on my shoulders. She’s stood up from the vanity and is seated next to me on my bed. The way she says my name is soft and low. After all these years, she knows just how to stop my spirals.
I look into her eyes. They’re holding my gaze with what I can only describe as the Sahar special: kindness mixed with the smallest hint of impatience. She waits for me to snap out of it. I exhale through my nose, un-clench my shoulders and jaw, and say “Okay. So Ben is at your cousin’s school. And…?”
“Well, I DO know he’s the worst of your ex-boyfriends. I mean, obviously. But when he was telling the story, Fatima said he sounded, I dunno, sorry about it? Like, he told them he wasn’t a very good boyfriend and that he deserved it.”
“But again - why is he talking about me?”
“Imogen, you’ve met my cousins. I’m sure there are nosier people, but I don’t know them. Fatima and her friends got to chatting with him and they asked him if he was seeing anyone. He said he hadn’t had the best of luck in relationships, but said that he was thinking that maybe that’s because he hadn’t treated his exes very well.”
I’m stunned into silence. Truly. If you knew me, you’d know how rare this is.
Sahar waits a bit. Seeing that I’m not about to start yelling again, she gets up and walks back to the vanity to finish applying her eyeliner. God she looks hot like that. “I thought you might find it interesting to hear that Ben Hope, of all people, is maybe less terrible now that he’s left Truham? He always gave me the ick but Fatima said he’s been very chill. Just, like, kind of quiet but not at all creepy. Who knows, maybe he’s changed for the better?”
I’m not so sure. “And you don’t think he’s doing his Old Ben thing of weaseling his way into people’s friend groups before revealing what an asshole he actually is?”
Sahar turns once again to look at me, her shiny hair falling over her shoulders as she caps the eyeliner. “Fatima is a Zahid. And Zahids are very good judges of character.” She winks at me and smiles, tossing her hair over her shoulder like this settles it. And it somehow settles my nerves while making me feel butterflies in my stomach. She turns back to the mirror to begin applying lip gloss.
We’re getting ready to head round to Nick’s. He’s got a free house for the evening and we’re all back home today. "We" is the Paris Squad: Nick and Charlie's friend group that became my friend group during that same trip where Ben and I split up. Nick and I have been close for ages. I even thought I had a crush on him at one point. I never imagined I'd find real friends in this chaotic group of queer people, artists, musicians, jocks and Tao. If you’d have told me a year ago that this would be my friend group, I would have laughed in your face. I mean, I’m not judgmental! Nor am I homophobic or transphobic, thank you very much! I used to think I was an ally? Until I ended up kissing Sahar at Halloween. And then again on New Year’s. And I liked it. A lot. A lot. Much more than I expected. But it was threatening my friendship with Sahar and after almost losing her altogether during The Time We Don’t Talk About Anymore, I couldn’t keep kissing her and acting like it didn’t mean anything. I apologized to her properly at Charlie’s birthday last year and we agreed that we were better off as friends.
And I think that’s true! Really. Really. I’m too high energy for Sahar sometimes and she’s too moody for me. I mean, I love her. As a friend! No one knows me like she does. But do I want to date a musician who needs to hole up in her room to write song lyrics and “work out this one bit” on her guitar for hours on end (and it kind of sounds the same as it did the last time I heard it) instead of watching David Attenborough videos on YouTube with me?
Did I mention - I also got really into nature videos last year, after Nick’s birthday! Like - I don’t even know what my life was like before them. Turns out - watching amazing videos of animals while listening to Sir David tell me about them is truly calming for my nervous system when the world outside is just too much and I need a break.
Anyways. God. Where was I?
Sahar. Me. Sahar and Me. We’re friends. We’re closer now than we’ve ever been. I care about her, and our whole friend group, so much. They’ve taught me what real friendship is. When Charlie went away last year for his mental health, we rallied around Nick and sent presents to Charlie to let him know how much we missed him. We’ve supported Elle at her art shows at her new school. We all learned Darcy’s new pronouns when they told us they were non-binary and I was very good at correcting anyone at Higgs when they got it wrong. Because it shouldn’t just be on Darcy to correct people all the time. And, as Sahar reminds me, pronouns are the bare minimum when it comes to respect.
The Paris Squad has made me a better person. I know that. I’m a better friend to them, and to myself.
“Imogen? Hey. Where’d you go?” Sahar is smiling at me, maybe even laughing a little as she reaches out to me to hand me the lip gloss. I join her at my vanity, sitting as I take the lip gloss - mine, I might add - from her, twist off the cap and start to apply it to my cupid’s bow.
“Sahar? Do you think I’m a good friend?” I ask. It’s Sahar’s turn to be speechless. Her big brown eyes get wide as she eyes me warily. She’s silent. For too long.
“Sahaaaar!! It’s not a trick question!” I laugh and slap her lightly on the arm. “Well? Am I or am I not??”
She laughs and leans her shoulder into mine. Our eyes meet in the mirror. She holds up her hands in surrender. “Okay! Okay! Yes! Yes, Imogen you ARE a good friend. But - why are you asking me this? And why now?”
I finish applying the lip gloss and twist the cap back on. I put it in my purse and sigh. “You told me about Ben and Paris and I had to think about who I was back then. Who I was when I was with Ben, and how I acted in Paris.” I look down at my hands and watch as my fingers start fidgeting with the hair tie on my wrist. “I was so obsessed with having a boyfriend. Having the right boyfriend. Having a cool boyfriend. It’s like getting one - any one! - would make me cool, you know?"
"And then, he was just… not what I thought he would be. He was so obsessed with Charlie. And it was so obvious! But… I was so caught up in my own feelings, I didn’t even think about what it could mean to say that out loud, in front of everyone. At dinner. How I was talking about things that… weren’t my business? That I really didn’t have any right to be talking about?” I lean my head back, close my eyes and breathe out through my mouth. I can feel tears coming on and while my new therapist has been telling me to just let them fall, I’d rather not redo my eye makeup, okay?
I take a few more breaths. When I feel steadier, I turn my head to look at Sahar. She’s looking at me with only kindness in her eyes. Her very pretty eyes.
“Aw, Immy. It’s alright. Look, I think you were doing the best you could in the moment, okay? I- I don’t think Charlie’s mad at you, if that’s what you’re worried about?”
I smile at her, a little shaky but already feeling better. “Thanks. I mean - I didn’t think he was? But I don’t know if I’ve ever apologized to him for that? For..” I shake my head and laugh. “For airing out the dirty laundry of my terrible relationship while dragging him into the mess? In front of everyone else from Truham and Higgs who was on that trip?” I sigh and wince, feeling the full weight of my words.
Sahar laughs a little and nudges my shoulder once again. “Yeah, that’s probably not going down as one of your Greatest Moments of Allyship to the Queer Community.”
“Oh fuck off!” I laugh as I shove my shoulder into hers. “You're never going to let that one go, are you? And you weren’t even there when I declared myself an ally!” I shake my head, remembering how confident I was in that moment. Lord.
“Yes but Tara and Darcy have told me about it many times!” Sahar giggles and lifts her hand to brush my hair off of my shoulder and to gently rub circles in between my shoulder blades. Which she knows I like. This is a peace offering. And, for her, I’m easy.
Sahar slips her hand into mine and gives it a squeeze. “I think I get it. Well, we’ll see Nick and Charlie tonight. If it means that much to you, and you really want to tell him, I think you should go for it. I don’t think he’s upset about any of it? I don’t even think I’ve ever heard him say Ben’s name! But yeah - go for it. Who knows? Maybe you’ll even have a good laugh about what a complete dicknozzle Ben was.”
I snort. “Oh God, he really was, wasn’t he?”
“He. Was. The. Worst!” she agrees.
“Oooh, what was it they said in that film we heard my mum watching??”
“King Wrong of the Bastard Fucking Wrong People!” Sahar yells gleefully. Then she leans over to kiss my cheek. I can feel the stickiness of the lip gloss but I don’t even mind. I return the kiss on her cheek and look into her eyes.
“Thanks, Sahar.”
“OK, okay, enough.” She gives my hand a final squeeze before releasing it. “We only have an hour before we’re meeting the Squad at Nick’s. And I’ve got at least 5 music videos to show you before then.”
******
Of all of the Paris Squad houses, Nick’s might be my favorite. For one, he’s got Nelly and Henry now, so I know I’ll always get doggy cuddles when I come over. For another, he’s got the most space. Including the back garden, with its picnic table and swing set. On a day like today, which will surely be one of the last good days of summer before we head back to school, we will inevitably end up back there, fighting for turns on the swings like we were little kids again. By the time Sahar & I make it there, the last of the daytime heat has cooled to a nearly perfect evening.
Darcy is holding court in the kitchen, explaining repeatedly - at increasing volume - that they heard about a drink a pop star invented on TikTok and that we all must try it tonight. Tao is listening with a skeptical look on his face - honestly, that is his usual face - but when Darcy hands him a jar of jalapeno peppers to chop up, he takes it from her without protest.
Sahar and Elle are ignoring the proceedings to sit at the kitchen table and chat about someone Elle follows on Insta - a singer? An artist? Both? It’s so loud and Darcy is louder, I really don’t know. Nick and Tara are catching up on the couch, a dog on each of their laps as they laugh about something or other. Charlie and Isaac are sat on the other couch, debating something that has both of them talking with their hands.
God, this group. I love them. I really do.
Are they always this loud, though??
I don’t know if it’s what Sahar said about Ben earlier, or remembering what happened in Paris, but I’m suddenly feeling a little hot and like I need some air. I head to the back garden.
It’s already cooler outside than in the kitchen. I sit on a swing, kicking the ground a little and letting the cool breeze lift the hairs at the base of my neck. I can still hear Darcy’s voice from the house. Did they just say “pickle juice?” Maybe I should wait outside until they’ve finished making this drink. Whatever it is, it sounds awful. I won’t really have to drink it, will I?
“Hey” says Charlie, suddenly standing right next to me.
My head whips around. Like an owl. “Jesus, King! You scared me!!!” I screech as I clutch my hand to my chest. Charlie tries not to laugh as he sits next to me on the other swing.
“Shit, sorry, Genny! Sahar said you wanted to talk to me? I couldn’t find you inside so I looked out here. What are you doing out here, anyway?” he asks. He’s holding two drinks, a glass of wine for me and a beer for him. Sahar must have sent him with the wine. She knew I would need it.
“Thank you, King!” I say, smiling.
Oh wait - King and Gen. I should explain. See, there was this time at another party, and there was tequila? And Charlie got very drunk and suddenly could not say my name, and all that was coming out was “Genny” and he was giggling but also apologizing, but I was thrilled because when your name is Imogen, no one ever gives you a nickname. So then I said “But what do I call you?” And Charlie was like “Um, Charlie??? Because it’s my name??” and I said “NO!! You need a new name that’s just from me!” and then I remembered that the King’s name is Charles and - You know what? This isn’t a good story. And I know this already. Sahar told me so, when I told it to her.
“Imogen?” Charlie asks gently. “You wanted to talk to me?”
I look at Charlie and smile. I take a breath and say “Yeah, King. I do.” I tell him about what Sahar had told me earlier that day, about her cousin going to school with Ben. His eyebrows twitch a little at the mention of Ben’s name, but he doesn’t react much more than that. “I just… Charlie, I remembered how I acted in Paris. How I noticed how much Ben was obsessed with you” - at this his shoulders tighten - “and how I kind of said that in front of our entire class? And I’m realizing now that - I didn’t need to do all that. I was upset, and Ben was a terrible boyfriend, but I didn’t need to drag you into my mess. I don’t even know if anything was going on between you two - and that’s not my business! Like, I know that, really I do. And I’m not trying to, you know, dredge up the past or anything…” I take a breath. I’m doing this wrong.
I try again. “Charlie, I just want you to know that I’m really sorry. I’m sorry for being so immature. I’m sorry for putting more attention on you than you wanted. I’ve never said that to you and - I really wanted to. I want you to know that if I could do that over, I wouldn’t bring you into that again.” I take a breath, take a sip of my wine and wait.
I’m a little startled by the squeeze of Charlie’s hand on my shoulder. “Genny, really, it’s fine. I’m fine. I mean… do I want to be spending the last good days of summer talking about Ben Hope? Not really!” he says, and we both laugh. “But I hear you and I accept your apology. It was all a bit of a mess, right? Not you! I mean, Ben was a mess! You were right to dump him. He was awful. And you deserved so much better! And - as I told you then - it was very fun to watch.” Charlie smiles at me and I feel so relieved.
I let myself exhale again and feel my shoulders roll back. I didn’t even realize how tense they’d been. “Thanks, King. That means so much to me. You deserved better too. I’m so sorry we share a shitty ex.”
Charlie’s smile fades as he nods quietly, shifting in the swing as he takes another sip of his beer. I watch him shrug his shoulders, almost like his shirt is a little too tight? Oh, shit. It was going well. What did I just do?
“Did Nick ever, like, talk to you about me and Ben?”
“What? Oh, no, Charlie! Never.” I rest my hand on his wrist and try to make eye contact. But he’s looking down at something else, not at me. “Whatever Nick knows, he’s the only one. Truly.” I give his wrist a little squeeze and then let go. Charlie and I aren’t best friends, but I know him well enough to know that sometimes he… retreats? A bit? And that when he does, it’s best to give him some space. But to not leave him alone with it. Shit. Should I go get Nick?
Charlie sighs and rubs a hand over his face. I can hear a rasp as the stubble on his chin scrapes against his palm. He looks up, like he’s deciding something. And then he twists in the swing to look me in the face. He looks determined. And a little sad.
“It’s funny. You just called Ben my ex, and it felt so… weird.”
My shoulders start hunching up again and Charlie catches it. His ice blue eyes get softer as he says “No, Genny, it’s fine. You didn’t do anything wrong. Really. It’s just that, no one ever knew that he and I were…. A thing. That was one of his conditions. That I was not to breathe a word of it to anyone else.” His jaw clenches a little. He continues. “Having it acknowledged by someone who isn’t Nick or my therapist… it’s almost like, validating? Like it actually happened?” He laughs but there’s no joy in it. He just sounds tired.
"Charlie... God, what an asshole! I mean, if you wanted to keep it private that's one thing but... Was this before you were outed?"
“No. It was after” he answers softly. I notice that he’s using his fingernail to scratch at the label on his beer bottle. I really want to reach over to make him stop but I think the action is helping him. I don’t know whether he wants to keep talking about it or not - and Sahar says I jump in too fast sometimes when I’m feeling awkward - so I wait to see what he wants.
Charlie continues. “It didn’t last long? It really wasn’t… much of anything, actually. We’d just meet up in secret sometimes. When he felt like it. And I was so young. And I had a crush and he… he gave me attention. Sometimes.”
I can feel that I’m frowning and I really want to say something but I’ve never heard Charlie talk about any of this. And now that it’s started, I just want to listen. To be here for whatever he needs.
“Anyway, I saw him kissing a girl outside of school once, when he was still meeting up with me in secret. And it was like I could finally see him clearly. I could see the way he was using me for his own needs while never really caring about who I actually was. I knew then he would never see me as a person, only ever as a thing.” Charlie says this all with a steady voice. When his eyes meet mine again, I don’t see pain or regret. Just strength.
“When I broke things off with him, he got mean. He said horrible things to me, things I won’t repeat,” he says, giving me a look that makes a chill go down my spine. I’d seen bits of that in Ben over the years. He wasn’t as casually gross as Harry Greene (nor as annoyingly loud) but when he got angry, he could be cruel. It was awful. “And there was a time when he confronted me, after rugby practice. He was demanding that we get back together-”
“Charlie, no, he wasn’t! Truly? After all his bullshit??” I tried not to interrupt, I swear, but this was too much.
Charlie nods. “Yeah. I mean, I said No, but… he was very persistent. And then… kind of physical…”
My mouth drops open. I’m feeling some kind of mix of rage, nausea and fear. Oh my God. What is Charlie about to tell me?
He sees my face and shakes his head gently. “It wasn’t… no, I mean, Nick got there before things got worse. He had… followed me? From rugby practice to where I’d agreed to meet Ben. He saw that I was stressed out and he already considered me his friend, so he… stalked me, basically.” Charlie laughs at that, a real one. The smile he has now is so gentle and fond. It’s the smile he gives Nick when he thinks no one else is looking. I’ve seen it a lot.
I reach over and grab Charlie’s hand. “I’m so, so sorry that happened to you, Charlie. I had no clue. Thank God for Nick! And I’m so sorry you were alone with Ben and that he thought he could…” At this point my voice is shaking and I realize that tears are running down my face. What the hell? Why does Charlie look perfectly composed and I’m falling apart??
Charlie squeezes my hand back and then drops it to put his arm around my shoulder. The chains of the swing set creak as Charlie pulls me towards him for a side hug. “It’s okay” he says quietly as I try to stop crying. “It’s upsetting, I know. I mean, I hope you understand why I don’t go around talking about this a lot?” I look up into his face, his eyebrows pulled together to make sure that I’m okay. Me. Charlie just told me about Ben assaulting him but I’m crying and he’s taking care of me. Jesus. He might be the strongest person I’ve ever met.
I wipe my eyes and tell him “I totally understand. Really. And I won’t tell anyone else. Not even Sahar. I promise.” Charlie nods at me, and seeing me start to calm down, the line between his eyebrows fades. He gives my shoulder another squeeze and then brings his hands back to his beer.
“I appreciate that. So now you know - what went down between me and Ben. My ex, I guess? Definitely one of the worst things that’s ever happened to me.” He sighs, takes a swig of his beer and swallows. “I’ve done so much work. So much work. I’ve fought hard for the life I have now. To regain my full personhood, my agency. The things that fucker tried to take from me. I have them back. And I’m proud of that. Proud that while he took from me in the past, he doesn’t get to have my future. What he did to me doesn’t define me. And the strength I have now? That has fuck all to do with him. And everything to do with who I am, and the amazing people I have in my life.” I think I’m going to cry again, but this time in awe.
Charlie’s eyebrows do the wiggle they do when he’s about to drop some hot goss. “Do you know he showed up at Elle’s show at Lambert, just to try and talk to me?”
I gasp and then clap my hand over my mouth. “What?? Charlie, No! Please tell me he wasn’t trying to get you back again??”
He laughs a short, harsh “Ha!” and then adds “Dear God, no. Even he’s not that delulu.”
“Well then? What did he want??”
“He wanted to apologize. He wanted me to know that he had realized what he did was wrong. I think he was looking for me to… accept his excuses? Offer some kind of absolution of his sins? Like I was a priest or something?” The look on his face is so bewildered. When he throws up his hands, I can’t help but laugh. Honestly. What the fuck is wrong with Ben??
“I didn’t accept it. I just… I couldn’t. He ambushed me. He stalked us to Lambert, for fuck’s sake! And it was such a shit apology, Imogen! I mean… I did tell him - and I meant it then, and I still mean it - that I thought it was good that he realized he’d been awful and wanted to be a better person. But I didn’t want to be around to see it. So,” he says, holding my gaze as he raises his almost empty beer bottle to my nearly empty wine glass, “while I appreciate the chance to roast our mutual shitty ex, I think I’d really prefer to leave him in the past. Younger Charlie thought he was worth my time. But Older Charlie? He knows that Ben Hope” and here Charlie says the name as though it’s the worst thing he’s ever tasted “is worth neither your precious time, nor mine.”
“Hear, hear!” I cheer, as I clink our glasses together. “To never talking about Ben Hope ever again!!” The clink is much too loud. I glare at our beverages.
“King, this cannot stand. You’re out of beer. My glass is practically empty. We simply must do this properly with full drinks!!”
“Did someone say DRINKS??” As if summoned from the kitchen directly, Darcy is walking towards us carrying a tray of drinks that look like normal sodas but have something that looks disgustingly like a pickle slice hanging off the rim. Like this bit of garnish is going to make me want to drink that. Does no one remember that I hate pickles??
“CHAR!” Nick sprints past Darcy to run and pull Charlie off the swings and directly into his arms. Charlie glides up into his boyfriend’s arms quickly and gracefully, like it’s part of a dance they do all the time. After a kiss that goes on far too long - which I should really be used to by now - Nick pulls back from Charlie to hold his face with his hands. He looks beyond excited as he says “Char, listen. I know you and Immy were chatting, we didn’t mean to interrupt but Darcy just made the weirdest drink and you have to try it because it’s kind of good!”
“Yeah, is everything okay?” Tara asks, carrying a tray of snacks behind Darcy and setting them down on the picnic table. She gives Charlie and me a curious look.
“They were probably hiding out here trying to avoid whatever fresh poison Darcy has conjured,” says Sahar, coming to pull me up to my feet off of the swings. “You know Imogen hates anything with pickles.” I put my arm around her waist and pull her in for a side hug, grateful for the cover story and for remembering the things that I hate.
Charlie eyes the drinks tray dubiously. “I hate to ask but I think you’re about to tell us anyway. What are these and why are we drinking them?”
“Darcy found them on TikTok!” says Nick. “They were invented by the one pop singer you like, Char. Du, uh, Dua Peepa? Dula Peep? Ah shit, you know who I mean. Darcy made it.” Nick finishes his speech, turns red as a tomato and hands a cup to Charlie. The rest of the Squad bursts into laughter.
“Dula Peep?? Nick! Please tell me you meant Dua Lipa??” Elle giggles, accepting her drink from Tao.
“I like more than one pop singer!” says Charlie, sounding offended but looking at Nick with the utmost affection.
“Not really!” says Isaac, shaking his head. “You’re nearly as precious about your indie bands as Tao is about his terrible indie films.”
“HEY!!” Tao and Charlie yell simultaneously. BFFs to the end.
Nick is holding his drink under Charlie’s nose. Charlie sniffs it once and jerks his head away from the cup. “Ugh, Nick, No. Absolutely not. This is vile. I cannot believe you’ve been drinking this. And is yours spiked, or….?”
Before I can hear Nick’s answer, Sahar leans into me and whispers in my ear “All good?”
I tighten my arm around her waist and smile as I say “Yeah. We’re all good.”