Incite (Sphere of Irony 1)

“Gemma! No, I’m not getting back with James.” I give her a sour look. “You know I wouldn’t do that. Besides, it’s been over a year, I’m sure he doesn’t think about me anymore.” I put down my glass so I can chew on my thumbnail.

“Ellie, for God’s sake, stop doing that to your poor finger.” Gemma puts her glass on the table and takes my hands, wrapping hers around mine. “Now, stop stalling El. I know you’ve been a wreck for the past couple of months, tell me what the problem is.”

Gemma’s green eyes shine with concern, her perfectly plucked eyebrows are gathered in the center. I feel guilty for making my friend worry about me. I know I’ve been a mess lately, I just haven’t been able to discuss it with anyone until now.

“Alright, let me finish telling you everything before you freak out, okay?” I look at her warily, but she nods her head and waits for me to continue.

Where to begin?

“You know I’m from Shepherd’s Bush, right?”

“Yes, you’ve mentioned that.” She’s confused by my question.

“Well, when I started sixth form, my dad lost his job and the following year, when the money ran out we had to move to Hackney. Specifically Lower Clapton,” I take a deep breath, watching as confusion turns to curiosity. “I finished my last few months of school there.”

Gemma’s eyes widen from the revelation that I lived in such a crime-ridden area, though it’s cleaned up a lot since. I swallow down the lump in my throat and have to untangle my hands from Gemma’s to take a sip of my water. I lean down and drag my handbag over from where it sits on the floor.

“Sorry. Anyway, remember trivia night last winter, right before the holidays? I ran out after they read the final question?”

“Of course I remember, you scared the crap out of me,” she says without hesitation.

“Right. Okay. Well, the question, it was about… ummmm…” I suddenly feel overly warm, almost uncomfortably so.

“Ellie, calm down and tell me,” Gemma says in a soothing voice. “It can’t be that bad.”

“It’s not bad… it’s just hard to talk about,” I admit, dropping my gaze to focus on the patterned fabric of the couch.

“Well, whatever it is, I’ll help you.”

I take in a deep, cleansing breath and look back up at my friend. “The question about the school attended by the members of…”

“Oh! I remember! They asked where the members of Sphere of Irony went to school,” she squeals, then she slaps her hands over her mouth. “Sorry El! I promised not to interrupt.” Her voice is muffled from behind her hands.

I smile. “No worries. That was the question. I went to that school… with them.” I reach into my handbag and pull out an old photograph, one that Kate had taken of me and Adam leaning against the wall outside the DK after an afternoon rehearsal. Adam is grinning at me, the look on his face is one of reverence. The boy is clearly in love. I’m smiling at the camera, my arms wrapped tightly around Adam’s neck. We are both young and happy.

Gemma’s eyes get wider than I ever thought possible. I can tell she’s bursting to ask me about the band, to find out what I know. She’s a huge fan of theirs, and talks about them non-stop whenever we discuss music, which I try hard to avoid doing.

“Adam, he was my boyfriend,” I whisper, just loud enough for Gemma to hear. “That song…” Tears prick the back of my eyes and I get angry. I’m so, so tired of crying. It feels as if I’ve spent a lifetime crying.

“Please, let me speak,” Gemma begs, squirming in her seat. I look at her and laugh through the tears. She’s literally going to explode if I don’t let her ask her questions.

“Go ahead. Let it out.” How can I deny my best friend the chance to freak out over my admission?

“Holy bloody hell, Ellie! You dated Adam Reynolds? I don’t know if I hate you or if I’m in complete awe of you! Tell me what’s going on or I may well have an aneurysm!”

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Gemma.” Her enthusiasm helps to lighten the mood. “I’ll tell you.”

It takes a while, but we have time, and after the buzzer sounds from the oven, we have plenty of chocolate chip cookies to go with my story. I explain how my dad was killed, and I lied to Adam about not wanting to be with him. I tell her about the horrid party in L.A., about James and backstage at the concert, the hotel room encounter with Adam the next day, the brutal assault and my broken phone. She cries with me when I tell her why Callum Murray attacked me all those times, and how Adam’s brother was likely involved in the last incident.

“Ellie, that’s just the saddest story I’ve ever heard,” she says as she wipes her nose with a tissue.

“Maybe not the saddest, Gemma. Surely you have at least one friend more pathetic than me?” My attempt at humor clearly falls flat judging by the look on Gemma’s face.

“It’s not funny, El, it’s your life! You’re supposed to be with him. He wrote that song for you! That beautiful, wretched song. I read an article in GQ about it a few months back,” she cries. “You have to call him, there has to be a way.”

I smile and drop my eyes again, “I know about the article, Gemma. That’s why I’m here. I need help. I’ve been trying to get a hold of Adam, but it’s as if he’s a bloody MI-6 agent! No one will forward a message to him or even admit that they can forward a message.”

Gemma’s eyes narrow when I look up, and she gets a mischievous look on her face. “Good thing I’m an expert at being devious and sneaky.”