Chapter 12

Elspeth opened up the door, stepping aside as a drunken looking man lurched out past her with a slurred, muttered 'scuse me' and headed on down the hallway towards the stairwell. Stepping inside, she saw Shawna hurriedly rearranging her clothing in a haphazard, discoordinated way, heedless of the smeared lipstick over her cheek.

"Again?" she asked, kicking an unseen beer-bottle across the floor as she came in.

"I guess." Shawna muttered back, squinting as the lights came on.

"You and Hope went and got smashed... Who was that?"

"Uh... Dave, I think?" she admitted, feeling a little guilty — more guilt would come later, Elspeth was sure.

"You are going to have to slow down, Shawna, this is the third night this week you've been blotto."

"Who's counting?"

"I am... your friend, remember. At least the other two times it was just Hope you ended up here with."

"I think I blew it with Hope tonight."

"Really?"

"We ended up competing to see who could pull... Derek?"

"Dave?"

"Yeah... Dave." Elspeth reached down onto the chair.

"His wallet says his name's Ian Gourd." She pointed out, flipping the driver's license over to show her the picture.

"Maybe his middle name's Dave?" Shawna managed after a few seconds thought. "Would you go around calling yourself Ian? I wouldn't."

"So... where's Hope?"

"Loserville!" Shawna cheered, flopping back on the bed. "I won, I pulled Dave, and she sucks!"

"I'm going to bed." Elspeth decided. She'd already worked out that week that Shawna wasn't worth talking to in that state. "I'll see you after lunch... when you finally come round."

Around two in the morning Elspeth woke up to hear retching coming from the bathroom, and when she padded to the door she saw Shawna, still dressed in the previous evening's skimpy outfit, hunched over the toilet.

"Rough night?" she asked, sympathetically.

"The bits I can remember..." Shawna acknowledged. "Was I a complete arse when you came in? I seem to remember I was."

"You weren't insulting. Dave left, by the way."

"Dave?"

"His real name was Ian, you seemed to have decided to call him Dave."

"Dave... I don't remember a Dave."

"Well... he... let's hope he remembers you."

"Why?"

"He dribbled down your leg." Elspeth pointed out, and Shawna shuffled her position around so she was sitting down.

"What the hell was I doing?"

"Competing with Hope, apparently."

"News got around?"

"No, you said that much yourself."

"I am rapidly coming to the conclusion that Hope and I are not good for each other."

"You and the rest of us too... what are you guys trying to prove?"

"I have no idea... oh, shit."

"Sick?"

"No..." she tried to stagger to her feet. "If I came here with... whoever... I don't know if Hope got home."

"She did... I texted her after I got back. Lorraine replied — she was crashed out on the bed when she got back from her date with Tony."

"Another one."

"It seems to be the only thing this week that's happening more often than you getting drunk."

"I asked for that one, didn't I?"

"I'm just warming you up." Elspeth promised. "You're just going to be a barrel of laughs in the morning."

"Oh, god..."

"MORNING!" Briana's greeting followed hard on the heels of several million candlepower of sunlight streaming in through the window as Shawna's quilt flew back to let the cold morning air in around her legs.

"Oh, sweet jesus!" she groaned, trying to push the dead rabbit off her tongue.

"Hey, sleepy, time to get up for lunch." Elspeth put in, a little more merciful with the volume, but not much.

"I don't want any." She muttered, reaching for the quilt, but it was snatched back out of reach.

"Bri, I know I'm not your favourite person in the world, but there's a Geneva convention about this cruel and unusual punishment thing, alright... gimme the duvet?"

"I'm afraid not." She replied, pitching her voice down a bit. "You see, you need to get washed, rehydrated, fed and generally humanised, and then we need to have a talk."

"Just talk, I'll pretend like I'm listening, you can pretend like you really care, and then I can go back to sleep."

"Doesn't work like that."

"So how does it work."

"You do as you're told and get up, or we take Ian's wallet round to Marcus, and ask him to take it back for you." That got her attention, and she sat up a little too quickly for her condition, wincing as she waited for the room to stop swaying.

"Don't..."

"Good." Briana smiled. "Shower, go." Shawna trudged off, grabbing her towel from the radiator, and Elspeth just watched until the door closed behind her.

"Marcus? I don't get it?"

"I'm finally beginning to understand... took me a while, mind."

"Understand what? Her and Marcus?"

"No, just... her in general."

"Right... do you feel like sharing this little pearl of wisdom, Mr Miyagi?"

"Of course, Elspeth-sama."

"Sama?"

"Boys are —san, girls are —sama."

"Language nerd."

"Art freak."

"Are you telling me about Shawna today?"

"Are you going to keep interrupting?" Silence ensued for a few seconds. "Good, grasshopper... Marcus gave it away, actually, with his whole 'I don't want to risk her changing how she sees me speech.'."

"Riiiight... still don't get it."

"She's convinced she's absolutely worthless. She has to put on this big happy 'I'm wonderful' front, and she skips from superficial relationship to superficial relationship so that no-one 'works it out'."

"You think?"

"Hell yeah. Look at the people she's dated so far — Tony, Brendon Mallory, that girl from her Ethics class with the intellect of a toadstool."

"So how does Hope fit into this?"

"Ah, see, that's where things start to go wrong for her. She didn't pick Hope, Hope picked her. Suddenly, someone she actually likes her who might see the 'truth'... and she turns it into a competition, fighting her away — we both know Hope hates to lose."

"Why doesn't she just say no?"

"Because that would compromise the 'I'm wonderful' happy-go-lucky image."

"And this fits with Marcus because he accepts who she is anyway, and she can keep him around without having... no hang on. How does Marcus fit in?"

"I'm not sure on that bit, yet. I think maybe he sees something in her she actually does like... maybe. It's not a perfect theory."

"Well, Doctor Richardson, what's your prognosis?"

"That's the problem. How do you convince someone who's pretending to be wonderful that they really aren't all that bad, underneath it all. It just feeds the image..."

"Maybe we get Marcus to do it."

"Good plan. Let's see, what does Marcus do every single day of his life... demonstrate admirably to Shawna that she's one step up from God."

"True..." They both quietened as the shower turned off, and Shawna appeared a few minutes later looking bloodshot and worn.

"Did you know there's no hot water left?" she asked.

"Yes." Briana lied. "There's no milk, either, so you get your tea black."

"Tea? Coffee, please."

"Tea." Briana told her, placing the cup on the table at the bedside. "And I've picked you something relatively sedate to wear — you're going to talk, not to flirt."

"Thanks mum... or is it Hitler?"

"I prefer Miss Hitler, but either will do." Shawna trudged off again with the clothes to the bathroom to dress.

"We do have milk." Elspeth pointed to the bag hanging outside the window. "I only got it yesterday."