Edenham Comprehensive

"What about this one?"

Casey wrinkles her nose at the costume Reuben's holding up. They're in Party Land and this is their last resort. They haven't been able to find anything anywhere else.

"It's a nurse's outfit. I'd look like a stripper," she states.

He smirks devilishly. "Nothing wrong with that."

Shaking her head at him, she rounds the corner and glances down the aisle.

"Okay, that's it," she announces flatly, spreading her hands in defeat. "I give up. In the two hours that we have been here, I've seen nothing either of us could wear to the disco."

"Speak for yourself," he retorts. "I quite liked the Frankenstein and her monster idea."

"That's because you wouldn't have to do much to get into character. You've got the brutish, misshapen looks, shuffling gait and ridiculous size already."

Reuben pulls a face. "Charming. But come on, Case. You can't deny you're being really picky right now."

"Well, sorry for wanting to be a tiny bit original," she snaps, folding her arms across her chest. "I thought you were the one who liked dressing up, anyway."

“Yeah, but right now I just want to find something and go,” he complains. “We’ve been here for ages.”

She glares at him. "Come on, I just want to try one last place."

She stomps out of the shop and, grumbling, he heads reluctantly after her to the shop across the street. She's already rifling through the sale items when he gets there, more than a little fed up.

She fingers the fabric of the dress she’s currently holding, her lips curling into an expression of distaste. It's a bright candyfloss pink colour that looks like it would be more at home in a six-year-old's wardrobe than a high street shop.

“Suits you,” Reuben comments, biting back a smile as he leans against the wall.

She shoots a glare in his direction and lets the dress fall, but as she does so, another catches her eye and doesn’t let it go. It’s black, with a simple lacy edging. The neckline is fairly decent and – she holds it up to check – the hemline just brushes her knees. There’s no particular design, but there’s something about the way the material shimmers as it twists in the light, turning different shades of silvery-grey, that’s design enough.

“That looks nice,” comes Reuben’s voice from behind her.

‘Nice’ is an understatement. This is the dress. She’s sure of it.

“I think I’ll try it on,” she says decisively. After all, it would probably look awful on her. But it wouldn’t hurt to check.

They walk to the changing rooms, and the woman waiting there, her face fixed into a perfect expression of boredom, hands them a plastic card with a ‘1’ on it before allowing them entrance. Reuben waits outside, as Casey goes into a cubicle.

She slips her t-shirt over her head and pulls down her jeans, shimmying out of them. A little uncertainly, she slides the dress off the hanger and over her head. One glance in the mirror tells her what she already knows: the dress is perfect. It pulls her in at the waist, hugging her hips and cupping her breasts so she actually looks like she has curves. The dark colour accentuates the shadows under her eyes and makes her look even paler, almost like in an old black and white film.

She turns slowly and lifts the curtain to smile at Reuben. “What do you think?” she asks, twirling self-consciously. “I kind of like it.”

“Yeah it’s really nice,” he agrees, giving her the once over. He scrunches up his nose a little, as if with the effort of thinking. “You look like that woman from the Addams family… Morticia?”

Casey chuckles. “I’m not sure if that’s meant to be a compliment or not.”

His eyes widen. “Hey, we could go as Gomez and Morticia! That original enough for you?”

“Yeah, I think I could handle that,” she says, satisfied. But the smile falls off her face as she notices the price tag. £60, it proclaims in big, bold, mocking letters.

“What is it?” he asks, noticing her sudden change of mood.

She holds up the tag for him to see. “It’s way out of my league. Maybe if it was in the sale I might be able to afford it, but there’s just no way.” She sighs heavily. “I guess I’ll just have to find something else.”

“I could lend you some money,” he offers, but she shakes her head.

“No, it’s not worth it.” She attempts a smile. “I guess we could just be vampires after all.”

She ushers him out and turns back to her reflection. Nibbling on her lip, she gazes at herself, hating herself for being so upset about something so trivial. With a sigh, she pulls it off and lets it fall to the ground.

When she emerges, holding the dress in one hand, Reuben falls into step with her and they head back to where they got the dress from. Casey’s about to put it back on the rack when his hand on her arm stops her.

“I have an idea,” he whispers, winking conspiratorially at her as he holds up the pink dress she was looking at earlier.

In one swift movement, he switches the labels on the two items of clothing, so that the black dress is now priced at ten pounds.

“Reuben,” Casey murmurs, half-shocked, half-amazed, “that’s wrong.”

“Believe me, I’ve done one heck of a lot worse,” he chuckles, handing her back the dress. “So come on. Let’s buy it before I grow a conscience.”

The woman - no, girl, she can only be a few years older than them - behind the till smiles at them as they approach. Casey hands her the dress, silently praying for her not to notice the switch. The girl frowns as she looks at the price tag and Casey’s heart starts pounding at a million miles an hour, but she merely shrugs and scans the barcode.

“That’ll be ten pounds,” she informs her.

As Casey’s fumbling in her purse for the tenner she’s certain is in there, the girl smiles at Reuben.

"You two together?" she asks, an eyebrow raised in question.

"No," Casey replies absent-mindedly, at the same time Reuben says, "Yes."

The girl looks between the two of them, confused.

"We are together," he explains, slinging an arm around Casey's shoulders. "She's just ashamed of me."

The girl chuckles. “I know the feeling.”

"Here," Casey says pointedly, handing the girl the ten pound note and a razor-sharp smile.

"Here you go," the girl says, handing over the bag. She winks at Reuben. "Good luck, mate."

"Thanks," he says quickly, but Casey is already dragging him out of there.

Once they're out of the shop, he tugs himself free and glares at her. "What was that for?"

"That girl was getting on my nerves," she mutters. "All high-pitched girly voice and fake nails and peroxide hair and-"

"Casey," Reuben says knowingly, "were you jealous?"

The look on her face is one of mutinous outrage. "I was not jealous. I was merely acting like any girl would in my position, if her boyfriend was flirting with another girl right in front of her."

"We were not flirting," he says defensively. She snorts. "And I am not your boyfriend."

"But you're pretending to be," she reminds him. "And this fake boyfriend needs to clean up his act if he wants this fake relationship to continue."

They stand there on the pavement for a few seconds, not saying anything, just breathing heavily and glaring at each other.

But then Reuben says thoughtfully, "You know, if this relationship were remotely real, this would be a major landmark. Our first argument. Hmm."

Casey looks at him in stupefaction for a good few seconds. Then she shakes her head at him, hiding a smile. "Come on. Let's get your Gomez suit and get out of here with as little collateral damage as possible."

***

She lets herself into her flat, her bag hanging from the crook of her elbow. But when she turns around, she gets the shock of her life.

"Mum," she exclaims, nearly dropping her keys. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at work?"

"I took the day off," her mum explains, getting up from the sofa. "I wanted to talk to you."

"Talk then." Casey's words come out harsher than she intended, and they both wince. But this is the first time she's properly seen her mother in almost a month, let alone had a conversation with her.

"I just..." her mum trails off and sighs. "Doesn't matter. So where you been?"

"Shopping," Casey replies, holding up the plastic bag as if for proof.

"Oh right," her mum says, suddenly interested. "With Nicole and your friends?"

Casey winces. "No, Mum. Not Nicole. We're not friends any more."

"Why ever not?" her mum exclaims. "You two were such good friends. And what about that Tyler boy? You still going out together?"

"No, Mum," Casey repeats, mentally reminding herself that her mum can't already know this because she hasn't told her. The mere mention of his name still puts her on edge, though, and it‘s hard not to resent her for it. "I'm going out with this guy called Reuben. That's who I went shopping with."

"Ah," her mum says knowingly. "When did that happen?"

Casey shrugs, leaning casually against the wall. "Not long. Since the weekend."

Her mum bites back a smile. "Didn't it ever occur to you to tell me about it?"

Casey rolls her eyes. "Like you're around long enough for me to."

Her mum grimaces. "Fair enough. How do you fancy having a girls' night in tonight? Just the two of us, catching up. What do you say?"

"I've got homework," Casey says abruptly. But her mum's face falls, and she relents. "I suppose I could do it tomorrow."

"Great!" her mum enthuses. "I'll cook us dinner, shall I?"

Casey blanches, reminded suddenly of the last time her mum tried to cook something more complicated than toast.

"That's okay," she says hastily. "We don't want a repeat of last time."

"You're probably right," her mum laughs, but it sounds forced. "I'll order takeaway instead. Indian or Chinese?"

"Indian," Casey replies without having to think. "I'll have chicken korma, pilau rice and some spring rolls."

"Alright then." Her mum beams, excited. "How about you get changed while I order?"

Nodding, Casey heads into her bedroom. As she pulls a t-shirt over her head, she wonders momentarily how long her mum's good mood will last. But she doesn't want to think too much about that right now.

When she emerges, her mum's sitting on the sofa, watching the television and absent-mindedly picking at the loose strands of material. Casey sits down and she smiles at her.

"This old thing's falling apart. Ought to get a new one," she muses. "Saw a nice one in the Argos catalogue the other day. What do you think?"

"We can't afford it, Mum," Casey says firmly, hating to have to be the sensible one.

Her mum sighs long-sufferingly, and lets the fabric fall. "I suppose you're right. As always. My daughter, ever the practical one. You certainly didn't get it from me." She laughs, but it's hollow, forced. Sad.

Casey doesn't know what to say. She can remember a time when her and her mum were so close she could tell her anything. But that was before this rift opened up between them, forcing them farther and farther apart until they don't even know each other any more.

"So," her mum says, breaking the awful silence, "tell me about this Reuben boy."

Casey thinks for a second. "Well, he's got a good sense of humour. He's a good friend to me. He's honest, too. I know he'd never lie to me." Not like some people. "He's great."

"So is he good-looking?" her mum grins. "What is it you young people say these days? Hot? Fit? Dank?"

Casey can't help but grin back. "I suppose he is." An image of him flashes into her head, and she sees his eyes, the layer of stubble on his head, and that infectious, intoxicating smile.

"Well, I'm happy for you," her mum says honestly. "It's nice to see you smiling. You've been nothing but miserable this past year."

Casey's smile disappears as quickly as it came. "Yeah, well," she mutters. "So, how's the b- Ian?"

"He's good, yeah," her mum smiles. "But this isn't about me. This is about you. So tell me, what's been going on in your life?"

Casey hesitates. How much can she actually tell her?

"Not much, really," she says slowly. "Working hard, getting on. You know."

Her mum nods. "I wish I'd worked hard when I was your age. I might've been able to make something of myself, instead of being knocked up at twenty two years old." She forces a smile. "You're a clever girl, though, Casey. You'll do well for yourself. You won't turn out like your stupid old mum."

Casey grimaces, glancing away quickly. She doesn't tell her that that’s her worst nightmare, turning out like her mother. She's heard her crying late at night when she thinks Casey's asleep, crying for all the things that never were and never can be. She doesn't want to end up like that.

"I'm sorry," she mutters, brushing her hair away from her face.

"For what?"

Casey shrugs. "For existing. For being an unwanted mistake. For being the reason you never got to do everything you wanted to do."

"Casey, sweetheart, none of that was your fault," her mum assures her, her voice gentle. "It was mine. Mine and your dad's. Certainly not yours. Don't ever think that."

"That's not what you said before," she says quietly. She knows she should just leave it, forget about it, but she can't let it go. "Don't you remember the blazing row we had at the end of summer? You blamed me for everything. Don't you remember?"

For a moment, her mum looks pained. But then she looks away, breathing deeply. "Casey, I'm sorry. But you know how it is when you're in an argument. Everyone says things they regret," she reasons.

Casey sighs, her righteous anger already fading away. "I suppose." But a part of her can’t let it go. A part of her will always resent her mum for that, as much as she wishes she could just forget about it.

They lapse into silence, neither of them quite knowing what to say to each other. But then the doorbell rings and they're saved from the awkwardness by the arrival of their take-away.