ragingcrier

[ragingcrier]

inconsequential, slightly unsentimental | seven.

⋆

Grace listens to Johnny White drawl on and on about Kayleigh and Steve and something about no more bad blood. The Whites and the Hestons, blah blah. She’s about to go outside for a smoke and some fresh air when two familiar hands grab her waist, pulling her back against a firm body.

‘Got what you want, babes,’ Cook speaks in her ear, holding the little baggie out in his hand. She turns in his hold, smirking, she grabs his hand before pulling him off to the cloakroom.

Grace pushes Cook to sit down on the wooden bench in front of all the coats. She moves to straddle him, grabbing the baggie out of his hand as they come up to grip her waist. Gathering a fair chunk onto her finger, she brings it up to her nose, sniffing it down. Sealing the bag, she pushes it back into Cook’s pocket.

‘So?’ He asks, a smirk growing on his face as his eyes flick down to her chest.

‘Deal’s a deal.’ Grace shrugs his jacket off her shoulders, chucking it beside them. She reaches back to untie the neck of her dress and pull the straps off her shoulders, lowering the top of it to show her bralette-clad breasts.

Cook watches transfixed, his mouth slightly open, swallowing hard.

‘Do I have to do all the work?’

He finally looks up into her eyes, a grin breaking out on his face. His hands immediately move up her back, fingers brushing against her skin making her shiver as he unclasps her bra. He chucks it aside, letting it fall onto his discarded jacket. Cook doesn’t wait to lavish attention on her breasts. His hands cup and squeeze, mouth coming down to trail open-mouthed kisses. His tongue flicks over a sensitive bud before his lips wrap around it.

Cook moves his hands to grip her hips, pulling her harder down onto his lap to feel just how excited he is. His hips roll up against her, she can’t help the small gasp that escapes her lips. Her fingers are tangled in his hair, holding his head against her chest. But when she hears the tell-tale sound of his zipper being undone, she pulls back, climbing off his lap.

‘What?’ Cook asks. ‘I thought we were gonna bone?’

‘I promised you tits, I gave you tits.’

‘Yeah but you were into that just then, princess, don’t lie.’

‘It’s gonna take more than abstaining from mindless shags for a week to prove anything to me, Cookie.’

‘I haven’t even flirted with other birds,’ he holds his hands up beside his head. ‘Come on, darling.’

‘Yes, you have.’

‘Uh, no I haven’t.’

‘You literally flirted with Kayleigh to get us in here.’

‘Yeah, well I had to get us in here?’

‘Impress me then,’ Grace steps forward, smoothing down his dishevelled hair and fixing his collar. ‘Do something to impress me, to show me you’re serious, to show everyone out there that you’re serious…’ she gestures to the party just outside the door. ‘Maybe then I’ll let you have a go.’

‘You’re cheeky,’ he smirks.

‘No, I’m smart.’ Grace exits, leaving him in the cloakroom by himself with a hard on and choice to make. Sometimes she wishes she wasn’t so smart, that she could naively fall into his arms and let him ravish her, but alas she knows his nature like her own reflection in the mirror.

Cook groans to himself in the cloakroom, reaching down to adjust himself, ‘alright then.’ He lifts the baggie up to his lips, tipping the rest of Uncle Keith’s special blend into his mouth.

⋆

Grace is dancing with Effy, Pandora, Freddie, and JJ, the drugs having kicked into her system. Effy nudges her, pointing up to the stage where she finally notices Cook speaking to the DJ.

‘What’s he doing now?’ Effy asks.

‘Is he going to sing?’ Katie turns to Grace, who shrugs unsure.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to dedicate this to a very special lady,’ he says into the microphone, winking at Grace.

‘Oh shit, this is going to be bad.’

‘He’s surprisingly not bad, I’ve heard him,’ Grace responds to Freddie’s comment.

Cook puts both hands on his head and thrusts his hips once to the beat before he grabs the microphone, staring directly at Grace, ‘when we were young, and unashamed, we thought our luck…’ he sings.

‘Go on my son,’ somebody in the crowd cheers.

‘Would never fade, and so we knew, that we were wonderful.’ He walks down the stage to stand in front of Grace, kneeling down. ‘But times got hard, and life moved on,’ Cook places a soft kiss to her hand between lyrics. Her face is flushed pink as all the attention falls onto them. He gradually moves back towards the stage. ‘We did our best, to carry on. But still the darkness grew.’

‘And if we lose our way, and it all seems impossible!’ Cook starts to really get into it, but Freddie notices Johnny White doesn’t seem to be having it. ‘You know our light, will guide us home,’ he runs to grab a chair to stand on. ‘We are unstoppable!’ He holds his arms up as the crowd begins to clap and cheer.

Grace smiles up at him, laughing as she claps. Noticing her gaze and laughter, he continues. ‘Unstoppable, unstoppabl—’ he’s cut off as the chair is kicked out from beneath him.

‘Cook!’ Grace runs over but is grabbed by one of Johnny White’s men, forced to watch as he smashes a bottle over Cook’s head, knocking him out. She’s dragged upstairs, held in place as Johnny waits for Cook to come to. Sick of how long it’s taking, he grabs him by the collar, lifting him up. Cook lets out a groan, disoriented.

‘I’m upset, Cookie. You made me look like a fucking idiot and I'm not used to that, you know?’

‘Are you sure?’ Cook asks, receiving a harsh blow to the face.

‘Cook! For fuck’s sake—let go of me!’

Cook finally notices Grace behind Johnny, held in place by a large man. A seething anger washes over him. He jolts up, trying to charge through Johnny. However, with the drugs still in his system and the blow to his head, he is easily stopped with another punch.

‘Stick them up on there. I wanna teach this fucker a lesson he'll never forget.’ Two men lift Cook and Grace up onto the edge of the balcony. ‘See? You tried to ruin my lovely party. Tried to take the attention off my Kayleigh. And now, really, really bad things are gonna happen.’

‘Was worth it, Grace’s tits were mint,’ Johnny headbutts Cook after his sassy comment.

‘Stop talking, James,’ Grace spits under her breath.

‘Mr… Mr White. He's very sorry. I'll take him home, and we're leaving. We don't want to upset your beautiful daughter any more,’ Freddie approaches.

‘You’re right. She is beautiful. It’s your lucky day. Let them go.’

The guards let both Cook and Grace go, they scream as they fall backwards off the balcony and onto the buffet table below, getting covered in food.

‘Not like that, you tossers!’ Johnny shouts.

There are multiple snarky comments before a fight breaks out, all the while Grace is groaning, trying to catch her breath after being severely winded. Cook grabs hold of her as they crawl onto the stage and away from the food fight that has started. They look from one another to the mess, then back to each other again, cracking up with laughter.

Grace leans over and kisses Cook on the cheek as he laughs, it fades into a small smile as he presses his lips to hers. It’s messy, a clash of teeth and tongue, drugs and adrenaline rushing through their systems.

‘Come on, let’s go!’ Freddie shouts at them. Neither budge until he grabs Cook’s arm, tugging him towards the exit. Cook in turn holds Grace’s hand, pulling her along with him.

The whole group are laughing as they run from the boat, far enough away until they find themselves in a tunnel, catching their breaths.

‘That’s far enough,’ Cook pants.

‘Cool party,’ Effy compliments.

‘Cheers.’

‘You’re fucking unbelievable,’ Freddie adds.

‘I needed to get laid, man.’ Cook’s arm falls over Grace’s shoulder, he doesn’t notice the way she tenses.

‘You’re always fucking trying to get laid!’

‘I try. I succeed. Right?’ He turns to Grace. ‘Speaking of which, did I impress? You fancy it?’

‘No,’ she steps back, irritated.

‘What? You were just all over me!’

‘It’s not—you’re not—’ She takes a deep breath, but the tears are already welling up in her eyes. ‘Is all you think about shagging? Do you see anything at all past my body and what it can do for you? Is all you see someone to lay down with?’

Taking off his jacket that he’d let her wear in the cold night air; she drops it in front of his feet. ‘You did impress me. Sung me a song, I liked it…’ she looks away from him, trying to hide the tears running down her cheeks. ‘Then I was reduced to just another girl you’re trying to shag. I’m going home.’

Cook stands there speechless, his eyes wide, mouth hung slightly open, ‘come on, you fucking confuse me. One minute you want me, then the next you don’t?’

‘Because one minute you want me!’ Her voice echoes through the tunnel. ‘Then the next you’re talking shit, that everything you do is so I’ll sleep with you. What the fuck is serious and mindful about that? You have proved nothing!’

His mouth moves as if he’s going to respond, but it closes again. It seems he has nothing to say. Grace shakes her head before walking away, her shoes click against the concrete of the tunnel, echoing loudly. The others stand awkwardly, feeling like they’ve seen something they shouldn’t have.

‘Come on, we'll go somewhere else,’ he clears his throat.

The other girls shake their heads.

‘Nah, so not cool,’ Katie leaves.

‘Come on, Amy Winehouse. Home,’ Effy guides Panda away until it’s just Freddie, JJ, and Cook that remain.

‘Right, let’s go then.’

‘Nah,’ Freddie rejects Cook. “I ain’t going anywhere.’

‘Why the fuck not?’

‘I’m tired. I’m going home, all right?’

‘It's two o'clock. What the fuck are you talking about, "you're tired”?’

‘I’m tired of you mate.’

Cook stands beside JJ, his jaw clenched, ‘what’s that supposed to mean?’

‘It means I can’t look after you anymore. I can’t do it,’ Freddie turns and walks away from his best friends.

‘Oh, fuck you then! Go on, fuck off home!’ Cook turns to JJ, ‘coming then?’

‘Sure…’

‘Let’s go find some fucking woman.’

‘W—what about Grace?’

‘She doesn’t fucking want me, does she JJ?’ His voice was irritated, angry, but there was a weakness to it as well, a hidden plea of helplessness and longing. A few blocks away, Grace’s arms are wrapped around herself as she walks home in the cold. Her tears feel like icy bullets against her skin; her heart is a heavy weight in her chest. Who the fuck does he think he is?

⋆

[ragingcrier]

inconsequential, slightly unsentimental | six.

⋆

Grace walks into the corner pub she’d frequented a few times now. Cook is turning seventeen today and his Uncle Keith is letting him have his party there. She was all dolled up with her hair and makeup done, dress and boots. She liked to look good for herself, but she did also want to draw the attention of the birthday boy. Speak of the devil, he lets out a whistle and walks over to pull her into his side.

‘Hey, baby! Look at you,’ he looks her up and down, his hand grabbing at her hip.

‘Happy birthday, Cook.’ She watches as his face immediately lights up even more.

‘Thanks, darling. Come on, Uncle Keith was just telling us his best stories,’ he guides her over to the bar with a hand on the small of her back. Freddie and JJ were already there. ‘Tell that one where you hit Bob Dylan over the head with a box of fish fingers.’

‘Another time. I've gotta go and see a man about a dog. A dog filled with drugs. See you boys. Happy birthday, Cookie.’ Keith pushes himself off the bar, putting a baggie into Cook’s hand. ‘And you, Grace! Cookie said you enjoyed last time, there you go.’ He pulls another bag from his pocket, this one full of weed. He hands it over to her.

Grace smiles, ‘thanks, Keith.’

‘Of course, sweet girl, you make Cookie the happiest I’ve seen.’ He walks off as if he didn’t just call out his nephew in front of his friends.

‘That, my friends, is what you call a legend,’ Cook changes the subject.

‘To who, exactly?’ JJ asks.

‘What?’

‘Who is he a legend too?’

‘Me. Blokes in pubs. Christina. People,’ Cook gestures around. ‘Grace.’

‘It’s true.’ Grace nods. Cook laughs, pulling her closer into his side.

‘I think the guy’s crazy,’ Freddie admits.

‘Exactly man. Exactly. Same again please, Christina.’ Cook finishes off his beer when people from college start arriving. ‘Guys, guys... I'm so happy to introduce you to my legendary night out in celebration of my birthday.’ His grin drops into a scowl, ‘Apart from you,’ he points to three guys that had just walked in.

‘But I…’ one of them tries to say.

 Cook charges up to them, shoving them out of the pub. ‘What are you doing here! You burnt my house, man! Get out!’

‘It was an accident. I'm sorry!’ But Cook wasn’t having it.

‘What the fuck?’ Katie says. Stood beside her is Emily, Panda and Effy.

‘I'm seventeen today, so all bets are off. Do what the fuck you like. Flush your mates down the toilet. Eat grapes off each other. Smash speakers over your heads. If partying's a crime, who's gonna get arrested first?’ He grabs the beer that Christina had prepared for him, tipping it all over himself as he chugs. ‘Let's go fucking MENTAL! Way hey hey hey hey! Party people!’ Grace shakes her head, but she’s smiling at his excited behaviour.

Not long later they’re all sitting around one of the many tables singing Jolly Good Fellow. Grace is sitting on the inside of the booth next to Cook, his arm is wrapped around her shoulder.

‘Thanks man, thank you very much.’ Cook is very drunk already, everybody else sober, and so they aren’t really finding joy in this the same way that he is. ‘What's next? Oh, yeah. More drinks! More drinks! More drinks! More drinks! More drinks! More drinks! Yeah?’ He gets up to go get more drinks.

‘He’s fun,’ Katie jabs.

‘You have no idea.’

‘He’s already had half the bottle of vodka.’ Both Freddie and JJ speak.

‘Really? How crazy!’ Effy says sarcastically.

‘He’s just excited, it’s his birthday,’ Grace sighs. ‘So even if it’s false enthusiasm, it would still be nice.’

‘You guys fucking or something?’ Katie asks, Grace just rolls her eyes and doesn’t respond. Cook had been talking nonstop about his birthday the last two weeks, she knows how excited he’s been, she also knows he’s upset cause he wanted to see Paddy but couldn’t.

They all slump back in their chairs; Effy looks to Grace with an expression she can’t quite read.

‘Tequila! Who’s in?’ Cook returns.

‘Me, give me a few.’

‘Alright, baby!’ He cheers, placing down three tequila shots in front of Grace. ‘That’s the spirit, darling.’

There’s a few other “yeahs” and “go ons” around the table.

‘Airwolf. Let’s go man,’ Cook says to Freddie. ‘Awoo! Awoo! Awoo! Awoo! Awoo! Awoo! Awooooooooo.’ He takes a shot between each howl before they finish with JJ and Freddie howling too, though Freddie quite reluctantly.

Grace knocks back the three shots, shaking off the taste of the strong alcohol.

‘Hey, Cook. Do you wanna see your birthday trick?’ JJ asks.

‘Lay it on me, magic man.’

‘One pint of normal drinking water.’

‘You'll like this one. I've seen it before.’ Freddie says.

Grace watches as JJ covers the pint of water with a tea towel, he shakes it for a moment before pulling it away to reveal a goldfish in the water. There’s a series of wows and gasps around the table, everyone surprised by his skills. Cook looks bewildered for a moment, his mouth forming an O.

‘Shazam, motherfucker!’ He grabs the glass from JJ, chugging the whole lot down including the fish. Everyone has a comment to make, or a disgusted face.

‘Aw, Cook, that’s gross,’ Grace elbows his side.

Pandora vomits onto the table and Cook claps his hands cheering, ‘Yes! Come on! Someone’s been drinking… milkshake? Strawberry milkshake. Am I right?’

‘Yeah. How did you know?’

‘Ah, am I ninja, or am I not a ninja? Christina, we've had rejection. We need a bucket, a mop and 16 shots of tequilaaaaaa!’ Cook jumps up from the table moving towards the bar for more drinks, Grace willingly follows, keen for a few more shots herself.

She probably shots back another four or five on top of the three that she’d already had. Cook appears behind her, hands on her waist as he cheers and laughs. ‘Way hey! That’s it, baby!’

⋆

Grace can’t believe that an hour later, she’s sitting there watching as Cook scoffs down a whole cake that Emily had made. He groans and whistles.

‘You ok?’ JJ asks.

‘Yep. Totally cool. Just a bit… you know, full.’

‘I can’t believe you ate the whole thing,’ Freddie says.

‘Someone had to get this party started.’

‘Party?’ Katie asks incredulously. ‘Do you call this a party? Where's the conversation? Where's the dancing? Where are the men?’

‘We’re men.’

‘You’re boys.’ Katie scoffs.

‘Do you want to measure my d*ck? It's daddy-sized,’ Cook jabs back. ‘So you lot think this party's shit, yeah?’

‘It’s a little bit…’

‘It could be…’

‘It’s shit.’ Effy states bluntly, not trying to sugar coat it like Panda or Emily.

Cook stands up abruptly, his chair pushing back loudly as he walks out the front door of the pub. Grace sighs, slumping back. She turns to look at JJ who looks a bit upset, he cares about Cook and Freddie a lot.

‘I’ll go talk to him, yeah?’ She whispers to JJ while the others have their own scattered conversations.

‘Yeah,’ he nods. With that she stands, exiting the pub.

'I’m ready! Just tell me when. Give me a sign!’ Thunder crackles as Cook speaks to the sky. ‘Oh, yeah! Yeah! Thank you, man...’

‘I think that was just the weather forecast for the day… not a sign,’ Grace teases, a soft smile on her lips. Cook sighs and leans back against the brick wall.

‘You think it’s shit?’ He questions, and she can see the sadness behind his bravado. The boy who just wanted to see his little brother and have some fun with friends for his seventeenth.

‘I think it didn’t turn out the way you wanted it to…’ Grace moves to stand in front of him, her fingers come up to fiddle with the buttons and collar of his navy blue, white-striped polo. His hands instinctually move up to her hips. ‘Doesn’t mean it can’t still be fun.’

‘Hm?’

‘Heard Freddie on the phone to his sister. There might be a party we can crash…’ Grace trails off as Freddie walks out on the phone. ‘Speak of the devil.’

‘What? But where are you, I can't hear... I don't have anything, Ok?’

Cook and Grace share a look, smirking at each other as they listen in to Freddie’s conversation.

‘No, I haven't got anything, Ok? You'll have to find your own. No, I don't have any drugs! Bye.’ He hangs up.

‘Your sister?’ Grace asks.

‘Yeah, she's at some engagement party. Her mate Kayleigh's getting hitched.’

‘So it'll be free bar, free entry, that kind of thing?’ Cook grins.

‘Yeah, I suppose, why?’ Freddie realises what the two are getting at, ‘no. No, no, no, no, no. No way!’

‘Why not?’

‘Cause my sister's there, and I don't want to see her. Plus, she doesn’t like you very much.’

‘Why not? I was always touching her and flirting with her,’ Cook shrugs. Grace sighs and steps away from him, but he grabs her, pulling her back to wrap an arm around her shoulder. ‘I’m only joking.’

‘Listen to me, we're not going. No. No. No way.’ Freddie shakes his head, but Cook just grins mischievously. Once he’s got an idea in his head, it doesn’t leave until he’s done it.

⋆

‘Come on everybody, cause, yeah we’re going to a party!’ Cook jumps up in the air, clicking his heels together. The group all walk by the docks to the party on a boat, Grace has Cook’s red jacket around her shoulders, shielding her from the chilly wind coming off the water. ‘All right?’ He tries to walk past the security but is easily lifted and plonked back in front.

‘Not coming in,’ security says gruffly.

‘Why not?’

‘Private party. Plus underage. Plus don’t like look of you. Not coming in.’

‘Listen to me, robot. You may rank way above me in terms of strength and size, but at least I can love. Now can you let me in?’ The security manhandles him as he tries to shove past again.

‘Not coming in.’

‘Listen, fate has brought me here. Do you understand? You're not letting fate in the club. It's not like fate is wearing trainers. Fate just wants a couple of drinks, a little dance. And fate is actually also desperate for the toilet. Now can we co—’

‘How about you fuck off?’

‘How about you’re a fucking cock? I’ll fucking break your fucking face, mate!’ Cook snaps.

‘What?’

‘I said I’ll fucking break your fucking face.’

‘Alright, you’ll get your fucking head kicked in here, come on,’ Freddie pushes Cook back from the guard with the help of Grace, who is pulling him back with her hands around his arm.

‘Fucking prick,’ Katie mumbles about the security.

‘I don’t think he’s gonna let us in,’ Naomi states.

‘Nah, he's just an obstacle. We're meant to go to this party. Fate will sort it. Just wait,’ Cook tugs Grace back into his side, his fingers fiddling with the hem of his jacket that she wears, she’s practically drowning in it.

‘Freddie?! What the fuck are you doing here?’ Who Grace can only assume is his sister comes out with a blonde woman beside her.

‘Hi, Karen.’

‘You can’t come in, it’s private.’

‘Don’t be like that sis’. It’s Cook’s birthday.’

‘Unless you've got drugs, fuck off, and take your friends with you.’

‘Oh, come on Karen. I’ll make it up to you, I promise,’ Cook steps forwards, putting on his boyish grin.

‘Yeah. Look, it’s not my decision. It’s her party.’ Karen gestures to the blonde beside her.

‘Oh, congratulations,’ he brings her hand up to his lips, pressing a long, awkward kiss to the back of it. Grace shoves her hands into the pocket of his jumper, moving to stand beside him. ‘Will you let us in?’

‘Well, there is a pretty strict dress code.’

‘How strict exactly?’ Cook pulls a baggie of white powder out of his pocket, shaking it. The blonde girl laughs and lets them in. ‘Let’s cock and roll, baby!’ He immediately pulls Grace over to the waiter holding champagne. His hand slips under his jacket to cup her ass, and with the amount of tequila in her system, and perhaps to try and show off to the eyeing blonde, she doesn’t make him move it.

Cook manages to chug a few glasses down in the time Grace drinks one, ‘Christ, I hate champagne,’ he admits.

‘Why are you fucking drinking it then?’ Karen asks.

‘It’s free.’

‘Got that right,’ Grace grabs a second glass. Cook looks down at her, chuckling as he presses a big, exaggerated kiss to her temple.

‘Dad!’ The blonde says happily. A scraggly man approaches them, clad in a white tracksuit.

‘Kayleigh-kins.’

‘Hi! This is Cookie… and Grace.’

‘Finish your drink, kid. Have as much as you like. Nothing's too good for my Kayleigh... and you beautiful girl, finish up your drink.’ Grace feels Cook pull her closer into his side as the scraggly man speaks. ‘And I wouldn't want anything to ruin the evening... drop the tone... Anything at all. Ok?’

‘Right you are,’ Cook drinks more of his champagne.

‘Enjoy. Kayleigh. You’re almost a woman…’ The man turns to his daughter.

‘Thanks, Daddy.’

‘Almost.’ He kisses his daughter. ‘See you around, Cookie and little lady…’ He eyes Grace before walking away.

‘You twat. Didn’t you know?’ Karen asks.

‘Fuck it, man. I’m just getting started.’

‘What’s the fuss?’

‘Yeah, I’m confused,’ Grace places her empty glass down.

‘It’s Johnny White. The gangster.’ Effy explains.

‘Yeah, legend,’ Cook shakes his head sarcastically.

‘He murdered those two nuns over a pint of Guinness.’

‘Allegedly,’ Kayleigh defends.

‘I hear he stabbed a policeman in the neck with a stuffed guillemot.’

‘That’s so not true.’ Kayleigh shakes her head before correcting, ‘it was a puffin.’

‘So, who’s for narcotics?’ Cook asks. There’s a round of “me’s” including Grace, until Pandora says it.

‘What?’

‘I’ve decided I love drugs.’

‘Lord, help us,’ Cook laughs at Grace’s mumbled words. His hand settles on the small of her back again, fingers spread down onto her backside as he guides her through the crowd and to the bathroom, the others following close behind.

⋆

Grace is waiting for her turn while some of the other’s snort their share of Uncle Keith’s drugs. Cook brings some up to his nose on his finger, sniffing it up before rubbing the what’s left over onto his gums. ‘Ah, rum punch,’ he sniffs.

‘What is it?’ Karen questions.

‘Uncle Keith’s special blend. A hallucinogenic opiate and stimulant. Four hours of THC giggles and MDMA highs with a transcendental kicker.’

‘Sounds good.’

‘Well, come on, then. Jesus.’

‘All in good time. Weird girl, hold that,’ Cook passes Pandora the baggie, moving to do something or other.

‘Fuck’s sakes, are we getting any or what?!’ Karen scoffs.

Grace’s eyes widen as she watches Panda lift the bag to her mouth, tipping all the powder into it, ‘oh my fucking god.’

‘No, no, no. Wait!’ Effy tries to stop her.

‘Hang on. What are you doing?’

‘What? Was that wrong?’

‘Did you just swallow my drugs?’ Cook laughs in disbelief.

‘She’s fucking finished it!’

‘It tastes horrible,’ Panda screws up her nose.

‘You’re not supposed to eat it! It goes up the nose, you twat,’ Kayleigh says angrily, and for once Grace kind of agrees. Everybody else had gotten some except her, Karen, and Kayleigh.

‘Let’s go fly a kite, girl!’ Cook laughs.

‘What about us?’

‘Well, you can drink some of the weird girl’s blood, she’s like a walking syringe.’

‘My mouth’s gone all numb,’ Panda’s speech comes out odd.

‘I’m not surprised,’ Cook is still laughing, now along with everyone else, high on the powder.

‘We’ve done ours, let’s go,’ Katie says, the others following her out.

‘Come on Panders, we’re out of here,’ Effy guides Panda out.

‘I said you shouldn’t have let them in,’ Karen scoffs and drags Kayleigh out with her. ‘You’re a wanker, James.’

Cook just cracks up laughing as he’s left in the bathroom with only Grace. He falls silent when he turns to look at her, standing there with a frown on her face, ‘what’s wrong?’

‘I didn’t get any,’ she says annoyed.

‘You didn’t?’

‘No.’

He lips form into an O shape before he sucks his teeth, ‘oopsies?’

‘Get me some more?’ Grace moves to stand right in front of him, hands coming up to fiddle with the collar of his polo shirt. His hands come up to grip her hips underneath his jacket that she still has on.

‘Yeah…’

‘If you do I’ll show you my tits,’ she says boldly. Could be the alcohol, or could be that she’s sick of the tension between them, or maybe she just wants to show off what he could have if he decides to pull his head in.

His jaw drops open and he nods frantically, ‘can I touch ‘em?’

‘I suppose.’

‘Ah, ah-ha!’ He jumps up excitedly before running out of the bathroom. Grace laughs to herself as she hears him find JJ just outside. ‘I need more class A drugs. Quick!’

⋆

[ragingcrier]

inconsequential, slightly unsentimental | five.

⋆

Grace thought she’d walk into an empty house, but instead her mum was home, her head in a bucket as she slumped on the couch. Throwing her bag to the side, she walks over to her mum, moving some of the hair out of her face. She uses the hair tie on her wrist to pull it back into a low ponytail.

‘Mum?’

‘Mm, sweetheart?’ Her mum slurs, her head not leaving the bucket.

‘What are you doing?’ Grace’s voice is gentle; it cracks slightly under the weight of her emotions.

‘Just having a rest, yeah? How was your first day?’

‘Yeah, it was alright, mum,’ she moves her mother to sit up. ‘Let’s get you in bed, hm?’

‘Oh yeah, sweetheart, that would be nice.’

Grace sighs, tears welling up in her eyes as she looks at the state of her mum. Mascara smudged, dried vomit on the side of her mouth, eyes barely open. She goes about getting her to bed, changing her clothes into pyjamas, wiping her mouth. She puts water and some painkillers on the bedside table. She finally allows a tear to drop down her cheek as she pulls the cover up over her mum.

‘Thanks, baby. Dad will cook you dinner tonight, yeah?’

Grace swallows back a sob at her mum’s slurred, soft voice. She could scream, tell her mum to wake the fuck up, Dad isn’t coming home. He’s gone, he’s never coming back, he can’t, he’s six feet in the fucking ground with the worms. Instead, she sniffles and tucks the cover under her mum’s chin. ‘Yeah, Mum. Get some sleep.’

And once she gets back to her own room, she cracks. Sobs and guttural groans of anguish that she doesn’t ever allow herself to feel. Her dad, her mum, Cook, the fog she feels in her mind sometimes. She cries for almost an hour, until her eyes are dried up and red, there’s no tears left. Mascara and eyeliner is smudged on under eyes that haven’t seen a decent wink of sleep in so long. But it’s covered, always covered, everything is covered. Her eye bags, her feelings, her wants, her needs, her everything. Reaching for the pack of Sterlings in her drawer, she lights one, sitting motionless, staring at the wall until she finishes smoking it.

A sudden knocking at the door draws her attention, the knocking doesn’t stop, which means it can really only be one person. Grace drags herself downstairs, taking a long breath before opening the door. There he stands, in that same red jumper from earlier, shit-eating grin on his face.

‘What do you want, Cook?’

His grin immediately drops at the sight of her, dishevelled to say the least. Makeup all smudged, eyes red from crying. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Can you just go.’

‘Woah, come on, darling,’ he throws his hands up in mock surrender. ‘Why the harsh treatment, I just came to check on you is all.’

‘Why do you care,’ her eyes don’t leave his. ‘Stop acting like you care.’

‘I do care. Look, what’s going on with you today?’ He looks offended. ‘Everything was fine this morning?’

‘Do you ever think critically? At all?’ Grace steps out of the house now, onto her front step and into the cold air. Her arms wrap around herself. ‘Do you ever stop to think that not everything is about you all the time.’

‘I think a lot, more than anybody gives me credit for. Cause I’m just Cook ain’t I?’ Cook looks angry now, stepping forward into her space. ‘Nah, it’s not about me, which is why I thought I’d bring you that good stuff you wanted but I guess you don’t want it anymore, aye?’

Her bottom lip trembles as she refuses to meet him in the eye, she doesn’t speak, just looks at their feet. Cook watches as she struggles to hold back tears, her body trembling as she stopped herself from sobbing.

‘Uncle Keith grows it, put in extra when I told him it was for you. He thinks your it and a bit, sweet girl he calls you.’

‘I’m anything but sweet,’ she whispers under her breath. But he hears, always hears her.

‘Yeah, darling, I know,’ he agrees, but it’s not judgemental. His tone… it’s almost understanding. He pulls the weed out of his pocket, quite a large bag of it. ‘Now, we gonna stand in the cold, or are we gonna go in and smoke blow?’

She’s still mad at him, infuriated really. But he stands on her front step with wide expectant eyes, almost like a puppy. He holds the bag out between them, if they both looked down, their foreheads would almost brush.

Grace’s fingers brush his as she grabs the bag, her eyes flick up to look into his before she turns, leaving the door open for him to follow. He shuts it behind him, a soft click. The stairs creak beneath his feet as he trails behind and into her room. Cook sits on the end of her bed, watching Grace at her desk, trying to roll a joint, but he hands don’t stop shaking for even a second.

He walks over to stand behind her, leaning over. His front presses against her back, chin brushing against her hair, his hands gently move hers aside, rolling the joint. He presses a soft kiss to her hair. Cook raises the joint to her lips, reaching into his pocket for a lighter. He turns her spinning chair to face him; her gaze doesn’t leave his face as he lights the joint for her. The loudness in her brain comes to a stop as she inhales, eyes closing, but her hands still shake as she pulls the joint back from her lips.

‘Have you eaten today?’ Cook questions. She shakes her head in response.

He leaves her room, and she wonders what he’s doing, but she doesn’t follow, smoking the joint instead. About ten minutes later he returns, some toast on a plate and some random snacks from her cupboard and fridge.

‘Right, dinner’s served, milady,’ he puts the plate down in front of her. Her eyes fill with tears again at the gesture, she berates herself in her head for being so pathetic. For a second she almost forgets that he shagged Effy in the nurse’s office.

‘Thank you…’ Grace lifts one of the slices of toast to her lips, taking a bite, it’s then that she realises how hungry she actually was. Cook moves beside her to roll another joint for himself.

⋆

Almost two hours later they’re both splayed out on Grace’s bed. He lays upright while she lays sideways, head on his belly as a pillow. They pass another joint back and forth as they stare at the ceiling.

‘So, you gonna tell me what’s got you a right mess?’

Grace doesn’t know if it’s the weed or if he’s managed to somehow worm his way between the cracks in her walls, but she tells him. ‘My dad’s dead, my mum’s in denial, fucking around and drinking herself to death, and I have to take care of her and myself and somehow still go to that dumb fucking college and get the rest of my life sorted out.’

Cook tilts his head to look down at her, his fingers reach out to fiddle with the hair on top of her head. ‘Shit’s fucked, princess.’

‘Yeah, shit’s fucked,’ she takes another inhale of the joint before handing it to him.

‘My mum kicked me out, live at the college dorms. Don’t really care about that,’ he inhales. ‘Miss my brother, though.’

‘Brother?’

‘Little Paddy, absolute legend,’ he laughs, but the joy isn’t there.

‘Shit’s fucked then?’

‘Shit’s fucked. Sorry about your dad, though.’

‘Did you kill him?’ Grace stares at the white paint of her ceiling, so bare, just like the walls.

‘No?’

‘Don’t be then.’ She sits up. ‘Wanna do something?’

‘Uh, yeah?’ He follows, sitting beside her.

Walking over to her desk, she opens the bottom drawer, pulling out her paints and brushes. She sets them up on her desk, putting a bit of each colour onto a palette, dipping a brush in the blue. Cook watches every movement with a curious gaze. Grace moves to the white of her wall and begins painting, she doesn’t quite know what yeah, but the white was becoming too much.

Cook stands up and grabs his own brush, dipping it in paint before moving to stand beside her. He looks down at her smaller form before back to the wall, painting a stroke onto it.

They paint and smoke for hours, until her wall is covered in colours and drawings. They’re both higher than ever, giggling and moving around the room as music plays from her CD player. Somehow they end up dancing together, though not very well. His hands are on her waist as they sway around stupidly. And then he’s moving the hair out of her face, wiping the smudged mascara from under her eye with a gentle thumb. He’s soft, so soft, and she can’t help herself but to lean in. Their lips move against one another with longing and affection, like twin flames, two scared individuals who the world has treated poorly.

Cook lifts her gently, laying her out on her bed as he hovers above her. One elbow holds him up as the other is so gentle, brushing over her cheekbone. Their lips meet again; he peppers kisses along her jawline before trailing them down her neck. Her head tilts instinctually, opening up the creamy expanse of skin.

His hand trails down her body, one squeeze of her breast and then it’s fiddling with the waistband of her pyjama shorts. Then she’s snapping back into sense, gently pushing him away from her, and as much as he wants to fight back, he doesn’t.

‘What, what’s wrong?’ He stares down at her confused.

‘I can’t.’

‘What do you mean? Is it your period?’ He asks. ‘Cause a bit of blood doesn’t bother me, darling,’ he moves to kiss her again, but she sits up.

‘It’s not that.’

‘Then what is it?’ Cook looks so confused, it’s almost adorable, his eyes flickering around the room before resting on her again.

‘I can’t do mindless, Cook.’

‘Mindless, babe? What are you on about?’ He sits back on his knees.

‘I won’t be just another shag on your long list,’ she looks at him, and he knows she means what she is saying. ‘I won’t be a mindless fuck.’

‘Oh, so that’s what you think of me?’ He starts to get defensive, like he always does.

‘What was it you were doing in the nurse’s office then?’

He remains silent, avoiding her eyes. She nods, sitting back against the headboard.

‘I can’t do mindless, Cook, and I don’t think you can do mindful…’ Grace says softly. ‘And I’m not gonna ask you to change for me, I don’t expect it… But I’m also not gonna let myself get caught in the crossfire and burned.’

He listens, but she doesn’t know if he’s actually taking it in. He stares at the drying paint on her wall, not making a sound for many minutes.

‘And what if I prove it to you?’

Grace laughs at him, slumping back further on her bed before she realises he’s being serious. Her smile dropping.

‘Starting now,’ he turns to look down into her eyes. Her breath hitches at what she sees. There’s no deceit, there’s no teasing or cheekiness, just truth, seriousness, and perhaps… she thinks there’s a little bit of fear.

‘Don’t take me for naïve, Cook. Don’t get my hopes up.’

‘Never thought you were naïve, darling, sometimes your intelligence scares me.’

‘Good.’

‘I’ll prove it,’ he stands up, putting another joint in his mouth and lighting it to go. ‘I’ll prove it to you.’ And with that, he exits, leaving her alone in her room that smells of paint fumes and weed… and him.

⋆

[ragingcrier]

inconsequential, slightly unsentimental | four

⋆

The four friends sit beside each other on the stands in the college gym. Grace sits beside Cook, and then on the other side of him is JJ and Freddie. The pretty girl from earlier walks in, smiling in their direction as she sits with her friend at the front.

‘She smiled at me. Cool,’ JJ giggles to himself.

‘She, erm, didn’t smile at you, JJ,’ Freddie responds.

Grace smacks the side of Cook’s arm as he sucks on his pen, shaking her head at him. ‘Gross.’ He simply winks at her before listening in to JJ and Freddie’s conversation. She tries to ignore them, still annoyed from earlier.

‘I think you'll find she did. Mum was right. A lack of pubic hair isn't necessarily a drawback,’ JJ smiles.

‘It is a drawback.’

‘Girls are more interested in my character than my cock. That's just been proved.’

‘She was not looking at you. fuck me, you're blind.’

‘On the contrary, my eyesight is keen.’

‘Yeah? How many fingers am I holding up?’ Freddie proceeds to hit JJ in the forehead, Cook laughs.

‘F... Ow! Don’t do that...!’

‘Dickheads, be nice to Jaybird,’ Grace scolds. ‘And have any of you stopped for even a second to think that maybe, just maybe, women care more about whether you ARE a cock, over the size or look of your cock.’

She stands up, walking down the stairs to go and sit beside the pretty girl instead. She needed to make some female friends.

‘Oi, what crawled up your ass and died?’ Cook scowls before brushing it off and turning back to Freddie and JJ mentioning something about his cock hair.

‘Oh hi! You’re really pretty! Like really!’ The excited blonde girl bounces in her seat as Grace sits beside them.

‘Thank you…’ She says, slightly taken aback by the energy of the girl. ‘Your name is?’

‘I’m Pandora, but my friends and mum call me Panda, this is Effy or Ef.’

‘Nice to meet you.’

‘You too. Your boyfriend looks like he’s up there harassing other women,’ Effy’s expression never changes, remaining neutral.

‘Not my boyfriend…’ Grace looks down to her hands, her fingers fiddle with each other.

‘No?’

‘No.’ Effy and Grace make eye contact, and there is an immediate mutual understanding.

‘So, Freddie?’

‘Is that his name?’

‘Yep.’

Their conversation is cut off as music echoes around the hall. ‘Welcome to Roundview College. A meeting place for young people,’ a recorded voice speaks as the teachers enter. Nobody is paying attention until one of the teachers shouts through a megaphone.

‘Attention! Pay attention, look you!’

‘Wow,’ Grace huffs.

‘Welcome to Roundview College. We are a designated four-star educational establishment under the National We're All In It Together Initiative leading to Ultimate Improvement status. Anyone who screws that up will be officially burnt at the stake.’ A woman speaks; Grace can only assume she runs the place.

‘And expelled,’ the man with the megaphone adds. The other teacher beside him struggles to hold in his laugh, Grace thinks they’ll get along.

‘Yes. And expelled! God help you all, you're gonna get some qualifications. Any questions?’

Nobody raises their hand or calls out, but a loud fart echoes around the hall causing all the students to break out into laughter.

‘Thank you. Now before I turn you over to your form tutors, I'd like to tell you something about the way in which we organise our...’ It happens again, cutting her off. ‘Right! Very funny. This is a further education college, not a primary school.’

Again.

‘Stop it! Stop it! I'll cut your balls off, you cheeky little turds! You hear me!?’ The crowd falls silent.

‘I do apologise. I think I might be at fault. Too much rhubarb on my Ready Brek. Havoc.’ The teacher with the megaphone admits.

‘Lord have mercy,’ Grace whispers to herself.

‘Last year, we had some intolerable incidents so, I want to make this easy for you. The following will result in instant expulsion - smoking on the premises, setting fire to the premises, consumption of alcohol on the premises,’ Grace watches as Effy writes all the rules down as a list. ‘Consumption of drugs on the premises, consumption of pornography on the premises, teacher abuse, glue abuse, self-abuse, sexual intercourse with any other student, teacher or animal or combination of the above including oral sex and/or use of sex toys, on the premises.’

‘What’s the list for?’

‘Gonna try and do it all by the end of the day.’

‘Fuck yeah,’ Grace smirks.

‘Miss Reedy, our new head of communications. Miss Reedy is joining us from... Where are you joining us from?’ The woman asks the shorter, timider woman with blonde hair.

‘Um, I had some time off. Seven years. It was stress-related but feeling a bit better now, hopefully...’ She steps forward. ‘Form BD1, say your name, please, when I... Put your hands up, please, when I call your, erm, name. Emily Fitch? Katie Fitch? Jonah Jeremiah Jones?’

Grace watches as people raise their hands one by one, taking in the faces and matching them to names. She smiles as JJ lifts his hand with a big smile on his face.

‘James Cook?’

‘Yo!’ Cook throws his hand up, high fiving his buddy.

‘Elizabeth Stonem?’ Effy raises her hand.

‘Grace Keene?’

Grace raises her hand, turning to look up at Cook but he’s already looking at her. He shoots two finger guns towards her and Effy. She shakes her head and turns away.

The teacher says a name that makes everybody laugh, Naomi Campbell. She’s a blonde girl, sitting up by Cook. As the names continue to get called, Grace copies down Effy’s list onto her own page, looking to make her own day more exciting.

‘Excuse me,’ Naomi raises her hand, calling out.

‘Yes, what is it?’

‘The boy next to me is acting inappropriately.’

‘How so?’

‘He wants to show me his tattoo. And not in a nice way.’

‘Right, you!’ The head woman steps forwards.

‘Me?’ Cook’s signature shit-eating grin is plastered on his face as he laughs.

‘Yes! Why don't you show us all your pathetic tattoo. We can wonder at its magnificent stupidity.’

‘I don’t think you’d like it.’

‘Right lad! Smartish! You've had an instruction. Show her the tattoo, now!’ The man shouts into the megaphone.

‘Alright,’ he says all smug, standing up. Cook unzips his trousers as Freddie tries frantically to get him to stop. He pulls them down along with his pants, the tattoo on his ass and cock presented to the whole hall. He even starts thrusting to add a bit of flare.

‘Oh, my fucking god,’ Grace’s jaw drops open before she throws her head back laughing, alongside Effy and Pandora. Cook looks down to them, flashing her a wink as he pulls his pants and trousers back up.

The blonde teacher starts having a breakdown, running all about the hall, trying to ‘get out’ as she was screaming.

‘This is unacceptable. Unacceptable! Silence. Silence! Silence! You, silence!’ The angry woman is cut off by a loud and long fart once more.

‘I um, I do apologise again.’

⋆

Cook rounds the corner with Freddie and JJ trailing either side of them. He wasn’t fussed at all after just having the director threaten to cut his balls off.

‘Women? Um... I mean, I feel like we might be... I don't want to sort of run before I can walk...’ JJ speaks. They come to a standstill at the sight before them. ‘Wow. Girls.’

Freddie and Cook stand there admiring as JJ trails on. ‘There's a lot of them.’

‘Yep.’

‘So much choice. It's disconcerting.’

‘No, it's just a matter of sorting out the wheat from the chavs.’ Cook’s eyes immediately fall upon Grace and Effy at the other end of the hall. Grace was bent down getting them both a Mars bar from the vending machine, her skirt had ridden up slightly to expose the top of her thighs and a peak of her knickers. ‘Ah, there we are. And the wolf shall lie down with the lamb.’

‘You think one of them would lie down with me?’

‘No,’ Cook shakes his head, an anger overtaking him as he imagines Grace and JJ. He shakes his head, eyes returning to the sight of his desires.

‘Yeah? Well, that line is wrong and popularly misquoted. It should read: “The wolf also shall dwell with the lamb, “and the leopard shall lie down with the kid, “and the lion and the calf together and a little child shall lead them.”’

‘Yeah. We'll try and pick the bones out of that, J.’ Feddie says.

‘I could show her one of my magic tricks. Dad says it's an icebreaker,’ JJ suggests excitedly. ‘Grace loves my magic tricks; she always claps for me afterwards.’

‘That’s cause Grace thinks you're adorable, J, like a little lamb yourself,’ Freddie explains.

‘Yeah? Let's try that out, then, before we go leaping in, and we can see who gets the fatted calf, right?’ Cook calls out to a woman, getting her to come over.

Meanwhile, Grace stands at her new locker, filling it in with her belongings. On the opposite side she watches as Freddie awkwardly introduces himself to Effy, listening in to their conversation. After their interaction, Effy walks over to her.

‘You think any of them will complete the list?’ She asks Grace, looking at her knowingly as she notices the girl’s eyes watching Cook.

‘I know one of them will.’

‘But you don’t want him to.’

‘Would you do it?’ Grace asks. ‘Get with him, knowing it’s Freddie who caught your eye?’ They both know what she’s truly asking.

‘Maybe if he touches me, he’ll realise what he actually wants.’

‘Yeah,’ Grace nods. ‘That’s what I’m scared about.’

‘I don’t think you have to worry,’ Effy smirks.

‘You know they’re like fire and water, Ef? One’s always putting the other out.’ Effy simply blinks at Grace’s words before walking off to class, but the latter knows she took them in.

Sighing, Grace shuts her locker, jumping at the face that appears behind it, ‘Fuck, Cook! Scared the shit out of me.’

‘Sorry, princess, couldn’t help myself,’ he grins. ‘Now you gonna tell me what’s got you all in a tizzy today?’

‘Nothing,’ she moves to walk past him, shoulder brushing his.

‘Nah, it ain’t nothing,’ he moves in front of her, blocking her path as he tilts her chin up to look at him.

‘Nothing you need to worry about.’

‘Yeah, alright then.’ He steps back, not pushing it. Instead, he reaches out to grab the paper off the top of her books. ‘What’s this then?’

‘A list.’

‘Look’s like a pretty fucking fun list, darling.’

‘Effy and I were going to try and complete it all before the end of the day,’ she explains. ‘But it seems she’s changed her mind. Now whichever one of you three musketeers finish it first, get to know her.’

‘Get to know her, aye?’ He smirks wide, stepping close to her. ‘And what about yourself? We get to know you if we finish this list today?’

‘I’d argue you already know me.’

‘Nah, not really,’ he folds the list, placing it in his pocket without looking away from her. ‘You play your cards close to your chest, darling.’

‘Give me a good reason why I shouldn’t.’

He doesn’t say anything, his eyes darting from her eyes to her lips.

‘Exactly,’ she whispers, stepping back from him before walking off, not turning back as his eyes follow her down the hall.

⋆

Later, they all sit in class, the teacher seems to be as uninterested as them. The teacher from earlier that Grace decided she’d get along with. He was miserable being here too. She sits next to Effy, and they both sit on the table next to Freddie and Cook.

‘Right. Um... Now we've gotta... Christ. fuck it. OK. fuck, fuck, fuck. Um... OK. Whatever...’ He throws the guidebook to the side. ‘We've gotta stand up, say our names and a unique fact about ourselves. Right. I'll start. Christ. I'm Kieran and I hate being a fucking teacher. You,’ he points to JJ.

‘Um... I'm JJ and with regard to mathematic aptitude I'm in the top 0.3% of the population which is an interesting demographic statistic because paradoxically my communication, interpersonal and intuitive skills are towards the lower quartiles.’

‘Yeah. You've stopped me in my fucking tracks there, yeah. You.’

‘I'm Katie. I've never not had a boyfriend since I was seven,’ a redhead stands up.

‘Congratulations.’ Keiran very clearly doesn’t mean it. ‘You.’

‘I’m Emily. I’ve never had a boyfriend.’

‘Shit happens. You.’

‘I'm Naomi. I hate injustice. People tell lies about me.’

He goes through a few more people. ‘What about you, with the bling?’

‘I'm Effy. And I think my mum's having an affair.’

‘Good one. Shows enterprise. And next to her?’

‘I’m Grace. I made my mum’s boyfriend flee the city.’

‘Wow. It’s impressive, it is.’ Keiran nods. Cook smirks over at her, remembering the day they had met. ‘And what about you, big guy?’

‘I'm Freddie. I met a girl I like today. She's like... Beautiful. That's it.’

Oh, he’s infatuated bad. Grace’s thoughts are distracted by Effy. The list she’d written sits in front of her, most of it ticked off. She then gazes over to Cook who sniffs his glue with a crazy grin, looking at the two of them.

‘That's it? That's your unique fact? That's just great. Fascinating, Freddie, thank you for that. What about you?’

Effy raises her hand, ‘Kieran?’

‘Yes?’

‘I'm feeling rather shit. I think I need to go to the Nurse's office.’

‘Oh, yeah? OK. Go on then. Right. Where were we? Oh, stuff it. Let's just watch a DVD about... Oh, Christ. "How To Be Inclusive". Holy Mother of divine shite, who makes up this shit?’

‘Actually, Kieran,’ Cook interrupts. ‘I'm not feeling too well either. My balls are aching. I might have to go and see that nurse.’

‘Right! Bugger off then. See if she can laser Jordan off them. OK. Right, how the fuck does this...’

Grace’s jaw clenches as she stares down at the table, closing the book in front of her. Who was she to be so worked up? She should never let a man make her feel like this—but Cook… he’s so addictive. It’s not like they were together, he could bone whoever he wanted, but to her there was something unspoken, and she’d thought he was on the same page up until today. Maybe for the first time in her life she had just been naïve. She also couldn’t be mad at Effy. She technically wasn’t doing anything wrong, both were single. However, it’s a bit shitty to be getting Freddie’s hopes up all day then shitting on them. But Grace is no saint either, she can’t judge. She’s done her fair share of fucked up shit. And it’s all of that, all those contradicting thoughts that have her pushing over the edge until she raises her hand.

‘Yes?’ Keiran questions.

‘Can I go home?’

‘Need to scare off another boyfriend?’

‘Something like that.’

‘Yeah, whatever, go,’ he shoos her off, then she’s leaving.

And when Cook returns to the classroom a little while later and she’s not there, his grin falls, he asks Freddie where she’s gone, but he only answers. ‘Not here, mate. She left.’ And the boy sulks in his seat.

[ragingcrier]

inconsequential, slightly unsentimental | three.

⋆

The sun passes through the sheer curtain covering the window, turning the harsh light into a soft glow. James wakes up first, he groans, hand reaching up to touch his aching nose. He goes to move but a weight on his chest registers to him. Gazing down, Grace’s head is laid on his chest, hand splayed on his abdomen. Her skin is warm against his, the left-over glitter on her eyelids glistens in the sunlight. She looked a mess, but somehow so gorgeous all at the same time.

Before he could stop himself, his hand is reaching up to brush some hair from her face. His finger traces down her nose, then over her cheekbones and jawline. Grace stirs slightly from the touch, brows furrowing together before her eyes flutter open. Half asleep she hums, nuzzling further into the warmth. A comfort she hadn’t felt in years, a night of uninterrupted sleep. Her fingers twitch against the warmth of his skin… wait, skin? She wakes fully, looking up to see Cook already looking down at her, a smug grin on his face.

‘Mornin’ sleeping beauty,’ he chuckles, but doesn’t move away from her.

‘Morning… beast.’

‘Yeah, I am,’ his hands grab at her waist, flipping her over as he tickles her sides.

She laughs uncontrollably while also shouting at him to stop, her hands frantically pushing at his chest. He’s also laughing as he stares down at her joyful face. He stops tickling her but neither make a move to get away from their close proximity. Cook leans down, waiting, giving her a moment to pull away, but she doesn’t. Instead, she lifts her head up, lips pressing against his, soft, brief. His hand comes up to cup her cheek as he moves to kiss her again but this time she does pull away.

‘I believe we’re supposed to be meeting Freddie and JJ…’

 ‘Challenge accepted, princess.’ He smirks at her as he sits up, laughing lightly.

⋆

‘No way, you’re going to Roundview too?’ Freddie asks as he passes the spliff across the table to Grace. She takes it gratefully, inhaling.

‘Yeah, unfortunately, I’m surprised Cook didn’t tell either of you.’

James shrugs, having a mouthful of his bear. ‘Don’t give a flying fuck about college.’

‘You should,’ Grace reaches up, her fingers brushing some of the hair covering his forehead to the side, her best concerned expression on her face. ‘I worry about you, baby.’

The insult flies over Cook’s head, instead he sits up straight as the pet name registers in his mind. His face showing an expression of bewilderment.

‘Point made,’ Grace smirks, grabbing his pint of beer to have a drink from.

‘Oh whatever!’ He sulks, sitting back against his chair with crossed arms.

‘I think Grace is right Cook, you could do with a little bit of brain stimulation at some points,’ JJ adds, completely oblivious to the tension between them. Freddie grins, shaking his head.

‘Uh yeah, that’s what Uncle Keith’s special blend is for J.’

‘Ignore him, Jaybird,’ Grace passes the spliff over to Cook. ‘He just sulks when people don’t agree with him.’

‘Oi!’

Grace laughs loudly as she stands up, moving behind Cook’s chair. She places her hands on his shoulders, leaning down to press a kiss on his cheek before grabbing the spliff to take one last inhale. She blows it into his face before straightening her posture.

‘Bye boys, got an appointment to get to.’

‘Bye, princess,’ Cook winks and clicks his tongue. ‘See you tomorrow night for the pub crawl with Uncle Keith, yeah?’

‘Wouldn’t miss it!’ She calls over her shoulder as she walks away.

Cook smirks as he stares at her backside, sucking his teeth before letting out a low whistle. He turns back to his friends, a cheeky chuckle escaping his lips as he chugs down the rest of his beer.

Freddie grins, ‘so what’s going on there then, man?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You dating or what?’

Cook raises his brow as he looks to his best friend, his eyes then shift down to look at the spliff between his fingers. He brings it up to his lips, inhaling before changing the subject, ‘you’re both coming tomorrow night too, yeah?’

‘Yes, I’ve been practicing some magic tricks.’

‘Yeah? You gonna show them off to the lovely ladies, Gay J?’

‘I will try, yes.’

⋆

Grace pulls the headphones out of her ears as she arrives at the location Cook had sent her. A food truck near the College. She was meeting the three musketeers for breakfast before their first day at Roundview. Her eyes fell upon JJ and Cook, the latter in a red jumper, the colour suited him well.

‘Breakfast, beautiful,’ Cook hands her the spliff he was smoking.

‘Thank you,’ she sits next to him.

‘Fredster!’ Grace notes the smirk on Cook’s face as Freddie approaches them with his skateboard. ‘This stuff is fucking rubbish by the way,’ he gestures to the spliff in her hand.

‘Stop stealing my fucking spliff!’ Freddie snatches it from Grace’s hand. ‘Morning, gents, lady, you thieving bastards.’

Grace blows out, leaning back in her chair as she crosses her arms. She pouts, her own supply drained, she was looking forward to finishing it.

‘Come on, I got you some breakfast.’ He passes a beer over to Freddie while his other arm wraps around the back of Grace’s chair. ‘Cheer up, darling, I’ll get you some good stuff later, yeah?’ Grace smirks up at Cook, resting her head on his shoulder.

‘They allowed to serve lager at 8 in the morning?’ Freddie asks.

‘I had a word...’ Cook taps his nose. ‘JJ's got some interesting thoughts on the benefits of Carlsberg as part of a balanced dietary pattern.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Oh?’ Grace looks intrigued. She loves JJ, he’s a sweet boy. Like a little brother to look after.

‘Calorifically it's right up there with three hundred and ninety-two energy units, which is nothing on the Snickers Duo I'm having which has the additional drawback of twenty eight grams of fat. Although I can call upon one point two grams of fibre, which doesn't feature in your lager. But you could argue in some sense that hops constitute one of your five a day.’ Cook chuckles as he listens, never once does the shit-eating grin get wiped from his face.

‘That’ll do me,’ he polishes off his beer. ‘You not having that, Freds? You want some, princess?’ He grabs the beer he got Freddie off the table, holding it to Grace. She grabs it, having a mouthful before passing it to him, watching as he chugs it.

‘That's his fourth so far.’

‘Is that a good idea? We've got college in half an hour,’ Freddie reminds.

‘You'll be carrying an attention deficit into the day,’ JJ adds.

‘Attention deficit? Intelligence deficit!’

Freddie insults Cook as he lets out a burp, Grace shakes her head, nodding as a woman walks past and calls him a pig. She pulls some gum out of her handbag, forcing it between his lips. He chuckles before he starts to chew on it.

‘Well, maybe I won’t go then.’

‘You're going to bunk off your first day?’

‘Nah, if I’m going, you’re going,’ Grace sits up straight.

‘Freddie, mate, the sun's shining.’ Cook reaches out to grab the spliff from Freddie, inhaling before holding it up to Grace’s lips. She leans forward, having an inhale herself. ‘We're bevvied, spliffed and sorted. Feels like the beginning of something. So, I'm waiting.’

‘For what?’

‘The signal.’

‘Signal?’ Grace looks up at him, still tucked against his side as much as possible in the uncomfortable metal chairs.

‘We're starting college, Cook.’

‘No, Freds, we're waiting. Something's gotta start us off.’

‘You're running a randomised fate model to see if you continue in full time education?’ JJ laughs.

‘My, my, Cookie, didn’t know you were a believer of fate.’

‘There’s lots you don’t know about me yet, princess, all you gotta do is ask.’ Cook leans forward, smoking more of the spliff. ‘I need motivation. And it needs to be better than sitting in the sun, with you two, our lovely lady, drinking beers and smoking your blow.’ He turns to call out to the woman working in the food truck, ‘Jensie! Have the same again? And sling a couple of them cherry shots on top? Cheers, darling. Yes, I can feel it! It's got potential, this day. It's pregnant.’ He guides the spliff back down to Grace’s mouth, holding it for her as she smokes.

They all sit in comfortable silence for a couple minutes. Cook is slouched lazily in his chair, hand brushing up over his belly, his red jumper pushing up to expose a slither of skin.

‘Shouldn't someone pick up that bike before it causes an...?’ JJ trails off, but it was already too late as a car swerves, driving into a bollard. An angry man gets out, shouting at an elderly woman passing by.

Cook laughs, blowing out smoke as he finishes off the spliff. Grace sighs before noticing the tomato sauce on the table, a smirk overtaking her features. She grabs it, turning to Cook.

‘Oi, what are you—’ He’s cut off as she smears tomato sauce all over the side of his head.

‘Go get us some money for that good stuff you promised me, yeah?’

‘Cheeky girl.’ His face lights up in realisation, laughing out loud as he taps her nose, disappearing before JJ or Freddie could notice.

‘That girl's looking at you, Freddie.’

‘Yeah.’

Grace observes as Freddie and JJ are struck by the beauty of the girl sitting in the passenger seat. She laughs quietly to herself at the sight of them, so predictable. She tunes out their conversation as she too makes eye contact with the girl in the car, they smile at each other.

‘She's got nice hair and nice eyes. And nice breasts, probably.’

‘Shut up, JJ.’

‘Nipples. We'll just imagine her bottom.’

‘Or you could imagine her personality? Maybe she’s really funny, or smart?’ Grace rolls her eyes at them.

‘She's absolutely lovely,’ JJ smiles.

‘Yeah, yeah, now watch this,’ Grace smirks.

Cook groans, playing the bit as he draws the attention to himself. ‘What... What happened?’ He holds his “bloody” head.

‘Is that your bike, you fucking idiot?’ The man shouts.

‘I was signalling you... you just kept coming...’

Freddie grabs the tomato sauce, chuckling.

‘I didn't even see you! You came out of fucking nowhere!’

‘I was trying to make you see me. You just kept coming, man!’

‘No. That's bollocks. No. Listen!’

‘You fucked my bike. You just ran straight through me.’ Cook brings his hand back up to his head, groaning.

‘That is not right! You haven't got a witness. Nobody saw me knock you off your bike.’

‘I did. It was just like he said! You ran him over, and now he's bleeding.’ The old woman he was yelling at sides with Cook.

‘Profusely,’ Cook adds.

‘I did too!’ Grace jumps up from her seat, rushing over to wrap her arms around James. ‘Cookie, baby, you alright? We can postpone our date, let’s go to the hospital, yeah? Why would you hit my boyfriend, man!?’ She turns her attention to the middle-aged man.

Cook is shocked for a second but plays into it. ‘It’s alright, princess. Perhaps we should call a policeman. I think it's a crime to leave the scene...’

‘There's no need for that. I'm sure we can sort this out. Let me buy you a new bike... Look, here. Come on, take it!’ The man tries to hand over money, but Cook is too busy looking down at Grace as she frantically tries to check his ‘injury,’ playing the part of worried girlfriend well. ‘Take it! Come on, have the lot. Have the whole fucking lot! Oh, bollocks! Forgive and forget, OK? Forgive and forget, OK? OK?! All right.’

Cook snaps out of it with a smirk as the man grabs his hand, slamming the money down into it.

‘Everything all right, Gran?’ A large man approaches; Cook and Grace are too busy counting the money to pay attention.

‘Oh, yes. Just a slight problem, all sorted out now. Yes.’

‘He's a pillock, he wrapped his car around that bollard, and he's called me a demented bint!’ The elderly woman explains.

They watch as the pretty girl gets out of the passenger side, walking over to them. She swipes her hand over Cook’s cheek, gathering some of the tomato sauce onto her finger. Grace tenses up, clenching her jaw, but doesn’t react outwardly. The girl licks the sauce off her finger, before turning to look at Grace. ‘Smart,’ she walks away.

JJ and Freddie move to stand next to them as they watch her walking away.

‘Dad says some things are best left to the imagination. But that's not right, is it?’

‘Your dad's a stupid tosser, JJ,’ Cook replies, his gaze also locked onto the girl like the other two. Grace rolls her eyes, looking away, not enjoying the feeling of pain in her chest that it brought.

‘Yes. Do you think she's going where we're going?’ JJ asks.

‘She is now,’ Cook grins, turning to look at the ongoing situation behind them before happily following in the direction the girl went. Freddie and JJ follow behind like puppies, blissfully ignorant to Grace who tensely moves, a sullen mood falling over her.

[ragingcrier]

inconsequential, slightly unsentimental | two.

⋆

Grace stares up at the ceiling of her bedroom, putting her cig out in the ashtray on her bedside table. She can hear her mum clattering around in the kitchen downstairs. Liam hadn’t come back, probably ran off thinking that gang was after him. Her mum was sad about it, she didn’t know why. He’s a fucking tosser, and he’s thankfully gone because of her. She smirks as she sits up, stretching languidly.

The sound of tapping against her window draws her attention, watching as a small stone hits against it. She walks over, opening it out, peeking down. A grin overtakes her features as her blue eyes fall upon Cook.

‘Did you bring it?’ She asks.

‘Of course I did, princess,’ he pulls the little baggie out of his pocket, shaking it in his hand before putting it back in. ‘Now you gonna let me in or what?’

‘Door’s unlocked, just be nice to mum when you go in and she won’t care.’

‘Cheers, darling.’ Grace can hear him downstairs, shutting the door behind himself. She can hear his grin through his voice, ‘evening, Ms Keene.’ Then she hears the sound of his steps on the stairs, then it’s her door. Then she sees him, clad in a navy-blue polo shirt, dark trousers. His hair dusts across his forehead, large smile plastered across his face.

He takes her in too. The pyjama shorts she has on exposing most of her legs. Her tantalising collarbone exposed by the black spaghetti strap tank top she has on. ‘Doesn’t really look like your dressed for a party, princess.’

Grace observes the way his brow raises as she takes a step closer to him, eyes drifting down to stare at her chest. She leans forward, lips close. His head tilts forwards slightly, a silent plea. ‘Not yet,’ she whispers, hand securing what it was fiddling to find. Stepping back, she holds the baggie in her hand, having gotten it out of his pocket while he was rightfully distracted. He holds his hands up in a sort of what-the-fuck gesture, mouth open and about to protest.

‘I thought you could help me choose.’ She steps over to her bed, laid out are two different outfits. He looks over, whistling as he imagines her in either of them.

‘Wear the blue, match with the Cookie-monster,’ he smirks.

‘Never say that again.’

‘Either way, it’s gotta be the skirt, darling,’ Cook steps up behind her as she reaches for the top. ‘Give us easy access.’

Grace turns to face him, holding the baggie of white powder up in front of his face. ‘Keep yourself busy while I get ready, yeah?’

He smirks down at her, snatching the baggie out of her hand. He moves to sit on her bed, watching with a smirk as she walks into her ensuite. He opens the bag, gathering a bit of powder onto his finger and bringing it up to his nose, rubbing the leftover onto his gums.

Grace steps back into the room, pulling bangles onto her wrists. Cook gathers more powder on his finger, stepping up real close to her as he lifts it to her nose. He doesn’t look away from her eyes as she breathes it in. His hand grips her jaw, firm, yet soft as his finger pushes into her mouth, rubbing along her top gum. He leans down, lips centimetres from hers when she pulls back with a cheeky grin.

He licks his lips as he looks her up and down like she’s forbidden fruit. A month they’d known each other now, seen each other at least three times a week. Still, she hadn’t let him have her, and somehow, instead of moving onto the next one like he normally would, it only enticed him more.

‘Party time,’ she whispers. Their eyes never look away from each other’s as her lips press to his cheek briefly.

‘After you, darling.’ Cook gestures to the door, his hand on the small of her back. His eyes drift to her bottom as she walks out, a large smirk on his lips as he follows.

⋆

The two climb down the ladder into the underground, by this point the drugs and alcohol they’d taken on the way had kicked in full swing. Cook’s hands were gentle on Grace’s hips as he pushes her towards the dancefloor. They giggle for no reason, an effect of his Uncle Keith’s special blend. He is close behind her; she can feel the hard plane of his chest up against her back, his hands on her hips as he sways them side to side. 

Cook’s lips brush down the expanse of her neck, placing an open-mouthed kiss onto her shoulder before a playful nip of his teeth. It felt like it was only them in this whole place, like the crowd was a figment of imagination. There’s another soft kiss to her neck before she hears his voice, his hands pulling back from her hips.

‘I’m gonna go take a piss, yeah?’

‘Have fun,’ Grace nods at him, her body still swaying with the music, the drugs clouding her system.

‘Don’t disappear on me, princess.’

Grace dances by herself for a few moments until she feels a presence behind her again, they’re grabbing her hips and swaying with her. But it feels different. This person is taller than Cook, the muscles of their front less defined. They grab her, pulling her back against them, she tries to pull away, but they hold firm. Turning in their grasp she starts to push at the man, but he laughs.

‘Loosen up, gorgeous, we’re all here for some fun.’

‘Get off, prick!’ She shouts, pushing at him harder. His hold doesn’t budge. Grace brings up her knee with all the force she can while drunk and high. The man curls over momentarily, yelling, infuriated.

‘You fucking slag!’ He moves to grab her again, but she blinks… and he’s on the ground with a flash of blue. Then he’s being pummelled. Cook punches him again and again, taking a few hits himself. People stand around and watch; her arms wrap around his from behind, pulling him back with all the strength she can muster.

‘Come on! Come on then!’ Cook shouts, breaking out of Grace’s hold to grab the man by the collar.

Grace notices two large men approaching through the crowd, grasping at Cook again she pulls. ‘Cook, come on! Leave it now!”

‘I’ll fucking cut your hands off,’ he spits in the man’s face.

‘Fuck sake, James!’ She crouches down, cupping his face. His hands loosen on the man’s collar, his eyes meeting hers. ‘We need to go.’

Cook seems to finally register the two men heading their way, big, clad in tracksuits. Grabbing Grace by the hand, he starts pushing through the crowd, pulling her behind him. They climb the ladder quickly, running out onto the streets of Bristol, they pant heavily. Only a brief second of eye contact is made before they’re both grinning and giggling.

She watches as Cook throws his head back in laughter, blood trickling from his nose. His knuckles are bruised and red, blood of his own mixed with the recipient of his punches. It’s smudged slightly against his blue polo. Her shoulders rise and fall as she stops laughing, catching her breath. Her heart jumps as she takes him in, and all she can think is well fucking shit.

Grace shakes off the feeling as she reaches up to his nose, inspecting the damage. Thankfully it is just bleeding, not broken. Cook’s smile evens out at the touch of her fingers, falling into a neutral yet soft expression as he gazes down at her.

‘Did he hurt you?’

‘I believe the Cookie Monster got to him before he could…’ Grace’s hand falls back to her side.

They stare at each other for a moment, words unspoken.

‘Yeah, he did,’ a grin overtakes Cook’s face.

⋆

Grace turns to Cook as they enter her front door, finger over her lip, instructing the boisterous bloke to remain quiet because her mum is sleeping. They move up the stairs as quietly as possible, which isn’t easy when you’ve been drinking and drugging, though they were both very much coming down from it now. She shuts her door behind them, her hand on Cook’s arm as she gets him to sit on the end of her bed.

She exits briefly into her ensuite before appearing again, wet flannel in hand. Using her leg, she nudges his apart to stand between them, free hand coming up to cup his jaw while the other wipes at the blood coating his skin.

Cook’s brows furrow at the sensation of his quickening heart before they relax again at the gentle press of the warm flannel. Without a thought to it, his hands run up the sides of her thighs before settling on her hips, his touch uncharacteristically soft. It confuses his own mind as to why he isn’t pulling her onto him or making crude jokes.

‘You can stay here tonight—you’re not really in a state to go home…’ Grace’s voice comes out soft, almost like a whisper, unusually so.

‘You could of just said you wanted me in your bed, princess.’ He grins, his usual irreverent humour making a comeback.

Grace shakes her head as she grabs his hand from her hip, she places the wet flannel into it, letting him clean off his own knuckles and arms.

‘Give me your shirt.’

‘Huh?’ His head snaps up, speechless for once in his life.

‘Give me your shirt… so I can wash it. Blood stains you know.’

Cook smirks, staring her down as he lifts his shirt over his head, handing it to her. She makes no comment, but her eyes do briefly fall down to the hard plane of his toned chest and abdomen, tracing the lines of his tattoo. Turning on her heels, she moves off towards the laundry.

When she returns, Cook is splayed out on her bed, already asleep somehow. A soft smile overtakes her features as she takes in the sight of him. He looks so peaceful, so gentle. One arm lays across her pillows while the other rests on his chest, it rises and falls slowly with his breathing. With quiet movements, Grace changes into a pair of pyjama shorts and a large t-shirt. She brushes her teeth too, unable to go to bed without doing so. Washing off her makeup though, she’d worry about that in the morning.

She climbs onto the bed beside him, sighing as he takes up majority of the mattress. She can’t help herself as her fingers move up to brush through the hair that falls over his forehead. Shuffling to lay down, Grace faces him, having to use his arm as a pillow thanks to his position. Her eyes drift close as she listens to his light breathing and occasional snore. The warmth of him beside her seeps into her very being, unfamiliar, but not unwelcomed as she finally gets a good night rest for the first time in forever.

[ragingcrier]

inconsequential, slightly unsentimental | one.

⋆

There’s a ringing, a ringing in her ears. It hasn’t gone away for days. It doesn’t go away, so she has to make it go away. The voice of her mother’s partner rings out from downstairs, another yell, another feud. More mistreatment. And she just takes it, she doesn’t understand how her mother just takes it. That’s when the door slams, and she smirks at herself in the mirror as she clips a necklace around her neck, the spiralling pendant sits flat on her sternum. From today onwards he wouldn’t be back, because she would make sure that he doesn’t come back.

The stairs creak beneath her boots with each step, her mother sits on the couch in the living room, crying, face in hands. It isn’t a new sight.

‘He’s a cock.’

‘I don’t need your input, Grace.’ Her mum sighs, not looking her in the eyes.

‘I think you do.’

The front door latches behind her as she walks out onto the Bristol streets. Her hands are stuffed into her pockets, she knows exactly where she’s going. Liam had burned the heart out of her mother, now she’ll burn what he loves.

She sits on a park bench across from his closed bar, he’s no doubt out the back counting illegal money. Good, he’d be here to bear witness. Grace reaches into her bag, her hand fumbling around for something that doesn’t seem to be in there. With a sigh, she shakes her head. Blue eyes dart around the park, looking for a potential helper. Three young men passing around a spliff, they’d have what she needs.

As her boots land in front of them, they look up at her from the grass. For a moment they just stare, no expression, no reaction, then the young man with the red jacket breaks out in a boyish grin. But she can tell it is anything but innocent.

‘Hiya darling, how can we help you?’ He nudges his friends’ arms. The nerdy looking one stands to attention, the other looks annoyed.

‘Can I borrow a light?’ Grace puts on her best doe eyes and a soft little grin.

‘You sure can, what is it you’re lightin’? You can have some of mine if you want,’ he winks. His legs splayed out in front of him, a carelessness to his demeanour.

Grace’s grin grows as she looks down at him, his eyes darting all over her form. She crouches down. ‘I have some arson to commit…’ His eyes finally fall on hers as she speaks, it takes a second for her words to register, but once they do he’s cracking up. He throws his head back in laughter.

He puts the lighter in her held-out hand as he continues laughing, turning to his friends. ‘Oh, boys we’ve got to see this.’

She’s already started to walk away by the time he looks back, he quickly jumps up, dusting his pants off as he jogs to catch up.

‘You mind if we tag along, darling? You know, to get my lighter back.’

‘You can do what you want, you have free will don’t you? Just don’t ruin this for me.’

‘And what exactly is this?’ His hands are stuffed in the pockets of his red jacket as he turns to grin at his friends who trail behind them.

‘Burning down a bar.’

‘A bar? Say no more, princess.’

‘If you keep watch out the front, I’ll steal some booze for you.’ Grace stops walking, turning to look up at the young man.

The same massive grin from earlier breaks out on his face as he jumps up and down like a kid at Christmas. He playfully taps at both his friends before turning back to the young woman.

‘Count me in, gorgeous, just tell me where to stand.’

‘Right here.’ And with that she turns to walk into the bar, using the key she’d stolen one night when Liam had stayed over. She can hear the other two asking their friend if this is a good idea and something else, but she tunes it out as she steps inside.

Once she makes sure there’s nobody inside she grabs different bottles of alcohol, putting them into a fold out bag she’d brought with her. Different vodkas and whiskeys. After she starts tipping the leftover bottles all over the bar. There’s no cameras anywhere here, Liam is too much of a cheap cock to pay for them. Moving towards the entrance with the bag of full bottles, she uses the lighter she’d acquired to light the trail of alcohol. Grace smirks as she watches the fire spread, reflecting in her blue eyes. She leaves some evidence that points the fire away from her and to the gang that Liam owes. Then she hears the backdoor, her head snaps up. Grabbing the bag, she legs it out the front.

‘Come on!’ She shouts as she runs past the three young men and down the empty street. Red jacket follows after her immediately, laughing loudly, the other two take a second before they react. They run for a while, back through the park until she’s sure they’re in the clear.

‘Darling, you are crazy!’ The young man emphasises every word as they stop running, all collapsing onto the grass.

‘Exactly, so if you tell anyone about this, I’ll burn you next,’ she responds.

‘Feisty little girl. I wouldn’t dream of it.’

She grins at him, chucking his lighter on the grass beside him. Sitting up, Grace reaches into the bag, pulling out the bottles of alcohol. ‘Payment. Take your pick.’

Finally, she hears one of the others speak, she was starting to think them mute. ‘Woah, that’s—that’s a lot of alcohol. I don’t know if—’

‘JJ, the lovely lady is being kind to us, charity it is,’ he shrugs off his red jacket. ‘Now don’t be rude and take your pick, don’t keep her waiting.’

‘So, do you also speak?’ Grace questions the third boy.

‘Yeah, when I’m not fearing for my life.’

‘You’re not fearing for your life now then? I suppose that’s good.’ She picks up one of the whiskey bottles, opening it and taking a swig. ‘Now, do the three musketeers have names, or…?”

‘Uh yeah, I’m Cook.’ She guesses he’s the leader of sorts, the other two sheep, following the shepherd. He says it as though she should already know, he’s being playful, false offense.

‘Just Cook?’

‘James Cook, but it’s just Cook,’ he says firmly.

‘Noted, just Cook.’

‘I’m JJ!’ The nerdy seeming one introduces.

‘I’m Freddie.’

‘Now do we get to know the lovely lady’s name?’ Cook smirks.

‘What does the lovely lady get if she shares?’

‘Well darling, you can have anything you want.’ He winks, not subtly gesturing to his crotch at all. She ignores the action.

‘Do you have any more weed?’

‘Give the girl a spliff, Fred,’ Cook reaches for a bottle of vodka.

‘Grace.’

‘Grace… who commits graceful arson.’

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’ There’s a glint in her blue eyes, playing dumb as she looks up at Cook, accepting the spliff from Freddie as he passes it over.

‘Neither do I, darling,’ he winks, leaning over to light the spliff in her mouth.

Grace inhales as she lays back against the grass, perhaps she might actually have a fun summer before starting at that dreadful college.

[ragingcrier]

inconsequential, slightly unsentimental

in which two broken souls form one.

inconsequential, slightly unsentimental ©ragingcrier 2025.

found also @ https://www.wattpad.com/user/ragingcrier

⋆

SKINS gen 2. james cook x original female character.

skins is its own warning. 

mentions and scenes involving crude language, sexual content, drugs, alcohol, abuse, mental health, and violence.

⋆

playlist found @ spotify

⋆

chapters:

one | two | three | four | five | six | seven

more soon.