Everybody~ 1

The bass thumped through the floorboards, lights flickered dimly in soft pulses, and the entire house buzzed with the relief and recklessness of school finally being over.

People from their year crowded every room — dancing, drinking, celebrating. Emily was on the makeshift dance floor, laughing breathlessly as Mandy twirled her under her arm. Cook and JJ were somewhere near the kitchen building a tower of beer cans or trying to light something on fire- maybe a combination. Pandora was dramatically oversharing to some poor guy stuck on the stairs — something about celibacy and French bread, probably all linked to Thomas.

Even Katie, somehow, looked like she was enjoying herself — even though Tess had overheard her earlier calling the crowd "a bunch of gap-year try-hards who peaked at their Year 10 formal."

Tess, meanwhile, sat on the floor, back pressed against the wall, knees drawn up, half-listening to the hum of everything around her.

Tess was probably the only one not drinking. Her stomach was already cramping with that dull ache again, the one she'd been trying to ignore for months. She rested a palm against it absently. Not long now.

She remembered feeling like this at a party once before — slumped against a wall, stomach in knots. She had been sulking because Cook and Effy had hooked up again. But that time her stomach hurt from drinking too much.

Now the ache in her stomach was heavier. Real. Growing. A reminder that everything had changed. That he had changed. That somehow, even after all the wreckage, Cook had become the one she trusted most.

Funny, really. Then, she'd been sick from wanting him. Now, she was sick from having him.

That night, Freddie had come and sat beside her. Neither of them had said much at first — they'd just kind of sat there in their mutual sadness, sharing that weird, silent ache that only people who've been burned by the same fire understand.

She hadn't seen Freddie in a while, actually. Come to think of it, no one had.

Probably still by Effy's bedside, she figured.

Naomi came stumbling around the corner then, nearly crashing into the wall with a can sloshing in her hand. "Hang on," she said, squinting. "When did you get here?"

Tess raised an eyebrow. "I've been here the whole time."

"No way," Naomi said. "Swear I haven't seen you all night."

"I was here last night too."

Naomi dropped dramatically onto the floor beside her. "Of course you were. You and bloody Cook — might as well start paying rent here. Scratch that — everyone's been living in my house lately. It's like an unofficial halfway home for emotionally stunted young adults."

Tess smiled faintly. "I've barely been home all week."

Naomi gave her a sideways glance. "Avoiding the fam?"

"Not that Mum or Chelle did anything," Tess muttered. "I just... didn't want to talk about that conversation again." Her voice dipped like it had sharp edges. She didn't need to explain. Naomi just nodded.

"Parents," Naomi said simply, raising her can in mock toast. "My mum's coming back next week. Might actually have to tidy this dump."

"Shit," Tess smirked. "You better clean under the sofas. There's like four different ecosystems growing down there."

Naomi laughed. "I've gotten used to being on my own. Well... not completely alone. But you know. Doing things my own way."

Tess glanced at her. "Well, we're adults now. You can do whatever the hell you want. Go wherever you want. Don't have to stay in this dump forever."

Naomi hesitated. "You going somewhere?"

Tess blinked slowly, considering that. "Dunno. Not really sure what's next. Just know it's probably gonna be a shit show either way."

Naomi snorted.

"What about you?" Tess asked

Naomi scratched her wrist. "Got into Goldsmiths."

"Naoms!" Tess's head lifted. "That's great, congrats!"

But Naomi didn't light up at that. She was watching something — someone — on the dance floor. Emily. Laughing, spinning, having the time of her life.

And Tess clocked it instantly. "She still loves you, you know."

Naomi blinked like she'd been caught staring. "Doesn't feel like it."

Tess looked at her for a long moment. "She's still hurting. It really broke her. I think it broke you too. Sometimes love doesn't survive what we put it through."

Naomi gave her a look—half glare, half plea. "How exactly is this helping me right now?"

"It's not. But neither is sulking into your can like you didn't cheat on the only person who's ever actually given a shit."

Naomi groaned, sinking further onto the floor.

"You still love her. She needs to know that." Tess said, brushing the hair from her face.

Naomi nodded, leaning her head into Tess's lap and closed her eyes. For a second, she looked almost peaceful.

Then she abruptly sat up and threw up abruptly. Half on Tess, half in a pot plant.

Tess blinked. "Great."

---

"Ew," Tess muttered, grimacing as she sat up in bed. "I definitely slept in Naomi's vomit."

Cook groaned beside her, dragging a pillow over his face.

"Ugh gross, it's all down my sleeve!" Tess squealed

He peeked out from under the pillow. "We've all been there."

Tess peeled off the top in horror and tossed it to the floor before flopping back with a wince, one hand instinctively settling over her stomach.

"Everything hurts," she mumbled. "My back, my hips. I swear even my ankles are aching."

Cook sat up, suddenly wide-eyed, bleary and unshaven. "Shit—should I like... I dunno, massage your feet? Or your back? Sing you a song or summat? Or a—what do pregnant people even need?"

"You are not going anywhere near my feet" Tess turned her head, amused. "And I'd rather not be serenaded at 9 in the morning."

"I just feel bloody useless, don't I?"

She rolled her eyes softly. "You're not useless."

He didn't answer that, just looked at her — tired, warm, like the weight of the world was behind his eyes.

After a moment, Tess shifted a bit, awkward under the covers. "So... I've got this appointment on Wednesday."

Cook blinked. "Right. For the... adoption thing?"

She nodded. "Just to talk to someone. Ask questions. We said we'd... explore stuff. See what's what."

"Yeah. Course." He was quiet, scratching his jaw. "I wish I could come."

"You can't exactly walk into a place like that with your track record," she smirked.

"Still. Doesn't feel right, you going alone."

"I'm taking Katie," she said. "And it's not like we're signing anything. Just... figuring things out."

Cook nodded again, but slower this time. "Still can't believe it sometimes," he said, almost to himself. "That we've got a baby. Or we will. Could've. Or... someone else might."

Tess glanced over. "We're just trying to do the right thing. Doesn't mean it's easy."

He exhaled through his nose. "I don't think I've ever done the right thing in my whole fuckin' life."

She didn't argue with that. Just gave him a tired look that said, you're trying now, aren't you?

A silence settled for a second. Soft and sad.

"Alright. I'm going downstairs." Tess sat up with a groan. "Reckon it's craving strawberry milk and salt and vinegar crisps. At the same time."

He pulled a face. "That's twisted."

She was already halfway out of bed. "I don't make the rules."

Cook had already rolled over again. "Remind me not to knock you up again."

----

The fridge gave a low mechanical hum as Tess leaned against the open door, her eyes scanning its contents with growing disgust. A sad bottle of ketchup, a crusty jar of olives, and a tub of something pale and vaguely lumpy stared back at her. She wasn't brave enough to check the expiry date.

She shut the door with her hip and opened the cupboard instead—stale cereal, half a bag of flour, a single tea bag stuck to the corner. Fucking hell.

She let out a dry sigh, fingers pressing against her empty stomach. She wandered into the lounge, the air was thick with last night's mess—empty cans, a lingering scent of weed and something slightly burnt.

Pandora lay in a tangle of blankets on the couch, face mushed into a cushion, one sock half off. She stirred as Tess entered, blinking slowly, expression somewhere between hungover and mildly confused.

"Where's Naomi?" Tess asked, voice low, almost croaky. "There's literally nothing in the kitchen. I'm starving to death."

Pandora made a small noise, dragging her hand over her face as she sat up, hair sticking out at strange angles.

"Went out," she mumbled, voice still syrupy with sleep. "Said something about surprising Emily with breakfast... I think." Then, slower, like the thought had just bloomed again, "Emily was really upset last night though. Was crying all over me and Katie for a bit."

That gave Tess pause. She glanced toward the hallway.

"Did she?"

Pandora nodded, yawning into her sleeve. "Think she was okay once Mandy turned up. They were talking in Naomi's room."

That made Tess's stomach twist in a different way. She didn't say anything else, just turned and wandered down the hall, feet sinking into the old carpet. Naomi's door was slightly ajar. She pushed it open slowly.

The light in the room was soft, filtered through gauzy curtains. Emily stood near the bed, frozen in place like she'd been caught mid-thought. Her arms hung loosely at her sides. In the bed, Mandy was asleep, one arm flung across the pillow.

Tess halted in the doorway. "Shit."

Emily blinked at her, not startled, just... blank. Drained.

Tess stepped in slowly. "What... happened?"

Emily didn't move. "I don't know." Her voice was quiet. Flat. "I don't remember. I just... woke up next to her."

Tess looked at her for a long time, then toward the bed again. Her heart twisted, not with judgement, just with something close to ache.

"And is that... what you wanted?" she asked, softer now. "Like really. Do you know?"

Emily didn't answer at first. Her eyes drifted, landing on nothing. "I miss how I used to feel. With Naomi. Even when it was all messy. I knew what I felt."

Tess nodded, slowly. "And now?"

Emily gave a half-laugh, tired and sharp. "Now I keep doing things that don't feel like me. I think I keep waiting for something to feel right again. But maybe it doesn't. Maybe I don't."

Tess bit the inside of her cheek, then stepped a little closer. "You're allowed to not know. You're allowed to be a fucking mess for a bit."

Emily turned to look at her, really look at her. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Tess said.

Before either of them could say anything else, the bedroom door opened.

Naomi burst in, arms full of plastic bags and a stupidly bright grin across her face. "Hi! I got eggs. We can have eggs, yeah. And Red Bulls and pain au chocolat, and—" she beamed at Emily "—I got Heat!"

Then she froze.

The room fell into a heavy silence. Tess was standing beside Emily.

"What?" she said. It was too light. Too late.

Mandy shifted slightly in the bed, making a small sound, the duvet rustling with her.

Naomi's eyes flicked to her, then back to Emily.

Tess didn't speak. She just moved forward, took the carton of eggs from Naomi's hand, and left the room without a word.

-----

Tess made her way back downstairs, a carton of eggs cradled loosely in one arm. The thud of her bare feet softened as she hit the kitchen tiles. Cook was perched on the counter, tipping cereal boxes upside down, while Pandora was swirling a spoon around a cup of tea.

"Top man!" Cook hopped off the counter, "Eggs!"

Pandora yawned into her cup, blinking blearily. "I'm gonna head to Eff's in a bit," she mumbled. "I've got a real surprise for her."

"Oh yeah, What is it Panda pops?" Cook asked, opening the eggs up.

Pandora was beaming, "You'll have to wait and see Cookie! It's bollocks that she has to stay in that place."

Tess nodded, "Yeah it's not exactly fun in there."

"Well hopefully this will cheer her up!" She shuffled past them and gave Tess a sleepy pat on the shoulder before disappearing out the door, leaving just the two of them in the quiet kitchen.

Cook slid down off the counter. "So... how's the land of lesbian heartbreak?"

Tess opened a cupboard for mugs. "Emily woke up next to Mandy."

"Oh, Mandy the Muff Muncher. Got it."

Tess gave him a look. She poured the kettle with a sigh. "It's all fucked. Emily doesn't even know what she wants. Naomi's out here buying Heat and pastries like it'll glue things back together."

Cook grinned. "Maybe it's working. Pain au chocolat is powerful shit."

Just then, Naomi clomped down the stairs. She paused at the kitchen door, eyes flicking to the two of them.

"Well, don't you two look cosy. Lovebirds." The word came out too sharp to be casual.

Tess glanced over, eyebrows raised. "You alright?"

Naomi brushed past her to dump a bag on the bench. "Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?" She grabbed a pan, talking as she moved. "They were both pissing corn and just crashed. She's quite cute for a straight girl, to be fair."

Tess and Cook exchanged a look—one that didn't need words.

Naomi flopped into a seat and pulled a crumpled newspaper across the table. "What's a seven-letter word for 'pointless drivel'?"

Cook leaned over her shoulder. "Politics."

Tess shook her head "Seven letters cook."

"And it starts with an N." Naomi added

"Naomi Campbell." Cook chuckled

Naomi just glared at him. "Helpful thanks"

"Well I'm out," He grinned, kicking back at the kitchen table.

Tess stood, brushing toast crumbs off her jeans. "Right. I'm going home."

Cook straightened up, mock offended. "I was planning on spending the day doing nothing with you."

"I'm going to see Effy later," Tess said, grabbing her jacket. "Besides, I need to change."

She leaned in, pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, and muttered, "You could benefit from a shower too."

He sniffed himself, grimaced. "That bad?"

----

Tess let herself into the house quietly, shutting the door behind her with a soft click. The place was still — the kind of still that made her feel like she was intruding. She didn't bother calling out. If her mum was around, she'd know soon enough.

Upstairs, she peeled off her jeans and tugged on a pair of black tights, slipping some cut-off denim shorts over the top. The fabric stretched tighter than she liked, so she adjusted the waistband, letting the oversized long-sleeve she pulled on hang lower, like it always did. Baggy. Safe. It had become a habit — clothes that draped, that hid. She didn't even think about it anymore.

She passed the mirror at the end of the hall without glancing.

In the kitchen, she was halfway to the fridge when she noticed her mum sitting at the table, a mug clutched in both hands like it was anchoring her.

"Where are you going?" Anna asked.

Tess paused, hand hovering over the fridge door. "To see Eff."

Her mum sighed — not loudly, not dramatically, just one of those quiet exhales that hit harder than shouting.

"What?" Tess said, already defensive, already tired.

Anna looked at her, eyes tired in a different way. "I've barely seen you the last week."

"That's not true."

"It is," Anna said, gently but firmly. "You conveniently sneak in at midnight and sneak back out by morning. I'm not stupid, Tess."

"I'm home, aren't I?" Tess snapped. "I sleep here... some nights."

Anna's voice was level. "I know you've been avoiding that night. When your dad came over."

Tess tugged on her ripped sleeves, avoiding eye contact with her mum.

Her mum didn't answer at first. Just looked at her, then down at the tea. Finally, she said, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Tess shifted her weight. "About the fight?"

Anna nodded.

"What's there to say?" Tess said softly

Anna's smile was tired, if you could even call it a smile. "Come on love, you know what I mean."

Tess reluctantly dropped her bag on the floor, pulling up a chair beside her mum.

"What happened after I left?"

Her mum exhaled slowly, rubbing her hand across her face. "I was angry. Told him to leave. Michelle was crying, though she pretended she wasn't. He stormed out. Didn't even take his coat."

Tess didn't say anything for a beat. His jacket was still draped over a chair in the corner. It would probably never leave.

"I'm sorry," Anna said suddenly.

Tess blinked. "What?"

"I just..." Her mum sat back in the chair, eyes fixed on the steam still curling from the mug. "I hate that it's like this. I hate that it always ends like this. Hate that he always does this. That you're the one stuck in the middle of it all."

"I'm not," Tess said.

"You are." Anna looked up now. "And Michelle too. And I know I'm not blameless. I let things fall apart a long time ago and I never fixed it. I kept pretending I could be everything at once — a decent mum, a working adult, a fucking wife, someone who knew what they were doing." She laughed under her breath, bitterly.

Tess stepped over and sat down opposite her. "Mum."

Anna's eyes were glassy, like she was trying not to blink too hard. "He said it's my fault you're like this. That I messed you up. Both of you. And the worst part is, I believed him for a second. Because I've thought it too, late at night when I can't sleep. That maybe if I was stronger, or kinder, or less... broken, you and Michelle might have turned out different."

Tess shook her head. "Don't do that."

"Tess—"

"No," Tess said, voice firmer. "What he said the other night — it's not true. None of it."

Anna looked at her then, properly.

"We know it. You know it."

Her mum opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

Tess reached across the table, fingers brushing her mum's hand. "He left. And he lied. And he comes back every now and then thinking he gets to judge the wreckage, when he was the one who lit the match. That's not on you."

Anna swallowed. "It still hurts though."

"I know," Tess said quietly. "I know it does."

They sat in silence for a while, the kitchen still and dim. Anna wrapped her hands around her mug again like it was something warm to hold onto.

She stood, then hesitated. "Mum?"

Anna looked up.

"I'm gonna be okay. Even if you don't always believe it."

Anna's face broke slightly — not into a smile, but something softer.

"I want to believe it," she said. "More than anything."

Tess nodded once, then turned and left.

----

Tess stepped through the double doors of the stark hospital. She hadn't even made it past reception when she spotted Pandora loitering by a vending machine, fumbling for change.

Tess frowned. "Wait—why are you only just getting here? You left Naomi's like three hours ago."

Pandora looked up, blinking like she'd just been caught nicking sweets. "Oh—well, Mum was in a bit of a tiffy when I got home', and then I accidentally got on the 108 instead of the 18, and that one goes in loops, apparently. Very disorienting."

Tess just blinked at her. "Right."

Together, they started walking down the corridor toward Effy's room, but were stopped by a nurse with a clipboard and a tight ponytail.

"Sorry, girls. She's been moved. You'll have to go round through the garden—Room 23, across the courtyard, left of the fountain."

Tess gave a polite nod, already annoyed, and nudged Pandora to follow.

The garden was chaos.

A full-blown stampede of people on space hoppers was bouncing across the lawn like some deranged therapy session from a budget retreat. Tess stood there, dumbfounded.

"What the—"

She stepped to the side, casually detouring around them, refusing to engage. But when she looked back, Pandora was still stuck on the other side of the bouncing stream.

"Panda?"

One of the instructors spotted Pandora hesitating on the edge and, clearly mistaking her for a patient, rushed over with enthusiasm and a bright orange hopper.

"You don't want to miss out! Here—join in, darling!"

"I'm just visiting my friend!" Panda protested, clutching her bag like it was a lifeline. But the instructor was already shoving the hopper into her hands.

Next thing Tess knew, Pandora was bouncing — reluctantly, awkwardly, and with pure existential dread on her face — trying to keep up with the others.

Tess could see movement up in one of the windows. Sure enough, Effy and Katie were peering out, pissing themselves laughing. Tess rolled her eyes and kept walking.

"Come on, Panda!" she called over her shoulder.

But Pandora was now zig-zagging across the lawn, completely off course. The instructor shouted behind her: "You're going the wrong way!"

"I'M NOT MENTAL!" Pandora shrieked back, struggling to steer her hopper.

By now, Tess had reached the window to Effy's room, yanked it open and climbed inside, muttering, "This is ridiculous."

Katie was doubled over in laughter. Effy had her face pressed to the glass. "Go on, Panda! They're after you!"

Tess turned just in time to see Pandora bolting towards them on the hopper, eyes wide in pure panic as a fleet of instructors and patients followed close behind, all bouncing like lunatics.

"GO PANDA, GO!" Effy shouted through the window, half-laughing now despite herself.

Pandora made a final, heroic leap — and went crashing through the open window.

She groaned. "I hate hospitals."

----

The three of them were perched on Effy's narrow hospital bed. Pandora knelt at the foot of the bed, brow furrowed as she jabbed frantically at the buttons of some kind of garish, plastic music board she'd apparently brought as a gift.

Effy gave it a weary glance. "Couldn't you have just brought me some grapes or something?"

"Grapes are for chipmunks," Pandora said brightly, not looking up. "This is so better. I wrote you a song, I just can't get the hang of—tit and piss, the instructions were in Japanese! Oh, fuck me up the arse three ways! Come on, you nonky cunt!"

Katie, mock-scandalised, snorted. "Language!"

Pandora grinned, entirely unbothered. "Great, innit? I've been practising."

She jabbed a final button with dramatic flair and the thing gave a wheezy trill, like a broken recorder. "Oh, I've got it!" she beamed. "Scrapey, scrapey for you, shakey, shakey for you two."

She tossed a set of maracas at Effy and Katie, and handed Tess a weird wooden pipe.

Tess stared at it. "What for?"

"Life," Pandora said, entirely serious. "Can't stand still, can we? So this is gonna cheer you up."

Tess raised an eyebrow, the pipe still in her hand, and looked to Effy. Effy looked just as confused, but a smirk played at her mouth.

Then, with zero warning or tuning, Pandora launched into her song.

"Some days are disasters, that you wish could just end.

Other days are bastards, just like a bad boyfriend...

But it makes me feel much worse than this,

to see your face marked with a frown.

I'm not telling you to smile, but don't be down.

Don't be down my friend, don't do your wrist any harm.

You don't belong on a funny farm.

And I'd rather see you in a party dress, than in a hospital gown."

Tess blinked. Jesus Christ. The lyrics were strange.

There was something so stupidly genuine about it all. Katie had started tapping her maracas in rhythm—well, vaguely in rhythm—and Tess joined in too.

The song reached a climax with Pandora's tragic attempt at a flute solo—reedy and painfully out of tune—but none of them cared anymore. Even Effy was giggling now, her voice joining theirs in exaggerated mimicry.

"I'm not telling you to smile, but don't be down!" Katie sang, warbling like a drunken cabaret act.

"Don't be down!!" Tess added, half-laughing as she blew a hopeless note into the wooden pipe.

But then her eye caught movement through the window in the hallway.

She glanced over—and there he was again.

That therapist. The one who'd been hovering around Effy since she was admitted.

Dr. whatever-his-name-was. The one Freddie and Anthea had been set on getting rid of.

But there he was, standing just outside. Motionless. Watching.

Tess's stomach twisted, but something told her to go investigate.

"Back in a sec," she muttered to no one in particular, slipping off the bed and past the door before anyone noticed.

The hallway was colder. The air felt sharper somehow. The man didn't move when she approached. Just slowly turned his head, as if he already knew she was coming.

"Hi, you're her therapist aren't you?" Tess questioned, folding her arms.

"Yes, that's me." Then his face shifted in recognition, "Tess was it?"

"Right." Tess cocked her head. "Funny I thought you were done. Fired. That you weren't allowed near Effy anymore."

"I'm surprised you're keeping such close tabs," he replied, smooth. Unbothered.

Tess resisted the urge to bristle. "She's my friend."

There was a pause. His eyes, pale and unreadable, stayed fixed on her.

"You should be careful," he said finally. "Sometimes when you push too hard into other people's stories, you forget where your own ends."

Tess blinked. "I think you should leave."

He smiled—if you could call it that. It didn't reach his eyes. "Enjoy the music."

And just like that, he turned and walked down the corridor, not looking back.

Tess watched him go, unease crawling under her skin. She didn't like it—his tone, the way he spoke like he knew something she didn't. Like he knew her.