ragingcrier

[ragingcrier]

in-love with your Cook fic! Can't wait to see where it goes. Cheers!!

thank you thank you thank you, i want to update so much more but i’ve been working every day :(

[ragingcrier]

inconsequential, slightly unsentimental | fourteen.

⋆

The sun leaking through the window fell right upon Grace’s face, rousing her from deep slumber. She stretches languidly, cuddling further into the warmth beside her. Her head tilts up where it rests on Cook’s chest, looking at his peaceful expression as he sleeps. Her pointer fingers lifts to trace his features, running over his eyebrows, cheekbones, then nose and lips. He playfully nips at her finger, clearly having awoken. One eye opens as her grins boyishly, ‘mornin’ sunshine.’

‘Morning,’ Grace’s voice is slightly croaky from sleep.

Cook reaches over to the bedside table, handing her the painkillers and water.

‘Thanks.’

As she sits up to take the painkillers, he sits up behind her. Wrapping his arms around her waist, Cook trails kisses along her shoulder and neck. Neither share any words about the night before, but there is a silent understanding in the way his fingers rub little circles against her skin beneath the hem of her jumper. In the way she leans back against him, dropping her head into the crook of his neck.

‘Are you busy today?’ Grace asks, a plea hidden within her voice.

‘What you got planned, babe?’

‘Nothing…’ She swallows, finding it within her to be vulnerable, to say what she really wants. He’d seen her at her worst last night, and he’d stay, surely he’d stay now too. ‘Just wanted to spend the day with you.’

Cook looks almost shocked for a second, confused. But his signature boyish, charming grin takes over his features as he lays down, pulling her with him. She laughs as he pinches her sides, holding her tight to his chest. ‘I think I can clear my schedule.’

‘Your busy schedule full of boozing and mischief?’

‘That’s the one.’

A knock at her bedroom door interrupts their conversation and laughter, her mum poking her head in after a hum from Grace.

‘I’m going to order some breakfast… I was going to ask if either of you wanted any,’ Mary asks the teenagers, her eyes drifting between them. Her heart swells at the sight of Grace’s smile and the sound of her laughter.

‘Yeah. I’ll get French toast, and a coffee please.’ Grace answers despite her confusion. It was unlike her mother to come into her room, even more unlike her to buy breakfast. ‘You want something?’ She looks up at Cook.

‘Yeah, wouldn’t mind a big breakfast, cheers.’

‘Knowing you, you could scoff down two lots.’

‘I’m a growing boy.’

‘No, you aren’t.’

‘I’ll call out once it’s here,’ Mary closes the door behind her, not before grinning knowingly at the two one more time.

‘Thanks, mum.’

‘Now where were we?’ Cook smiles cheekily, rolling on top of Grace. His elbows hold his weight off of her as he connects their lips.

⋆

The three ate breakfast together, it was slightly awkward to begin with but eventually conversation started, and the tension loosened. Cook had leant in to kiss Grace, but she had pushed him away, telling him to go brush his teeth. He’d sulked and walked off, leaving just daughter and mother at the table.

‘You really like him,’ her mother observes aloud once he’s up the stairs.

Grace pauses, lowering her coffee from her lips. She’s silent for a moment. ‘Yeah, I do.’

‘That’s good. He seems lovely.’

‘He’s fucking crazy.’

‘So are we a bit,’ Mary sits back in her dining chair. Her eyes never leave her daughters.

‘Yeah. Not wrong.’

‘Why don’t you take him to see your dad today?’

Silence falls back over them again, Grace’s eyes drift down to the wooden table. Her fingers fiddle with the fabric of the placemat. ‘Maybe,’ she stands up. ‘Thanks for breakfast.’

‘Don’t thank me for the bare minimum.’

‘You know I love you right, mum?’

Mary’s lip quivers as she looks up her daughter, eyes watering. ‘I love you too, Gracie.’

Grace nods and turns away from her mother, walking upstairs. She can hear Cook rattling around in her bathroom.

‘What are you doing?’ She leans against the door frame, arms crossed.

‘You’ve got no mouth wash.’ He stands up, hands turned outwards.

‘I’ve got gum?’

‘Good enough. Give us some, princess.’

‘It’s in my bag,’ she gestures to the handbag hanging up on her bedroom door handle.

Grace brushes her own teeth before getting changed. She grabs Cook’s jacket that he’d left behind a few days ago, the red one that she really likes, pulling it on.

‘We going somewhere?’ Cook steps up behind her, hands resting gently on her hips as she looks in the mirror. His head dips down to kiss her neck, hand gently moving her hair away.

‘Yeah,’ she sighs contentedly, enjoying his affections. ‘Then I wanna go say thanks to Keith.’

‘You don’t needa thank him, babe.’

‘I want to.’

‘Alright, where are we going then?’

‘Somewhere.’

‘Oh? You’ve got me intrigued, princess.’

Grace turns around in his arms, her own wrapping around his waist. She leans up to kiss him, when she pulls back she mumbles against his lips. ‘Do you have a spliff?’

‘I always have a spliff, sweetheart. You wantin’ it now?’

‘No, later.’ Cook’s lips connect with hers again, softer than ever before. Her hands run up his bare chest, he’d been shirtless all morning, but she wasn’t complaining. ‘Get dressed.’

⋆

The two had actually stopped for Grace to thank Keith first, she’d realised she had to go past there anyway and knew she probably wouldn’t want to do it later. Her hands are stuffed in the pockets of Cook’s red jacket; it was particularly cold today. He walked beside her, smoking a cigarette. He hadn’t asked again where they were going, quite honestly just happy to follow her wherever.

It's only when the cemetery comes into direct view that Cook realises. She grabs his hand as he finishes his cigarette, guiding him through the home of the dead until they reach her father’s grave. Robert Keene.

Grace sits down in front of the grave, holding her hand up to Cook. ‘Spliff?’

He hands it over before sitting down beside her, lifting a lighter to the end of it. She inhales deeply before passing it over for him to copy.

‘You would’ve got along,’ she speaks.

‘Hm?’

‘Both twats. Secretly nice twats though. Performative twats if you will.’

Cook looks offended for a moment, but it quickly morphs into a laugh, showing he’s joking. They pass the spliff between each other.

‘How?’ Cook asks. His voice isn’t demanding, the softness conveying she needn’t answer.

‘Hit and run.’

He doesn’t respond verbally. His arm wraps around her shoulders, pulling her close into his side as he lifts the spliff back up to her lips, his own connecting with her temple. Grace turns her head momentarily to kiss him. One, two soft kisses, before she rests back onto his shoulder.

‘He used to take me to the pub after school, he’d have a pint, I’d have a raspberry. We’d play pool.’

‘Uncle Keith has a pool table out back; we could go back and play tonight, princess, get you a raspberry. We can put vodka in it too if you’d want.’

Grace laughs, leaning further into him. ‘Yeah, I’d like that. Maybe no vodka tonight though, not after last night.’

‘Raspberry it is.’

‘I hope you know I’ll thrash you.’

‘I don’t know, babe, I’m pretty good.’

They sit in front of the gravestone for another hour. She tells him stories, he listens, sometimes asks questions. When they get up, she kisses her fingers, pressing them onto the cold stone. His hand wraps around hers afterwards, the warmth welcomed as they head back to Keith’s pub.

⋆

Multiple games of pool had been played between Grace and Cook, he’d won some, she’d won some, they were pretty evenly skilled. Though Grace had won a couple more. Cook said he’d let her win, but she knew that wasn’t the case.

Just as she’d potted the 8-ball, winning for the third time in a row, Cook grabbed her from behind, flipping her around and lifting her up to sit on the pool table. She yelps in surprise, but it quickly fades into a laugh as he stands between her legs, her arms wrapping around his neck.

‘What are you doing?’ Grace chuckles.

‘Can’t let your ego can too big, can I?’ His fingers grip at her hips. ‘Show you who’s in charge.’

She grins, leaning forwards to press her forehead against his. ‘So, show me.’ Grace plays into his fiction, knowing full well the power she holds over him. But she’d let him think he’s in charge.

Cook moves only to lock the door to the back room before taking his place back between her legs as she sits atop the pool table, lowering himself to his knees willingly. His lips trail kisses up her inner thigh through her jeans as his fingers unbutton them.

‘Ready to pot some balls?’ He winks, proud of his shitty joke. Grace’s head throws back in laughter, slowly fading into a moan as his lips kiss between her legs, and soon he’s devouring her like a man starved.

⋆

[ragingcrier]

hopefully new chapter tomorrow 🙏🏻

[ragingcrier]

inconsequential, slightly unsentimental | thirteen.

⋆

Cook and Grace ignore the teacher as she rattles on about Hamlet. She’s eccentric, loud, and quite frankly annoying. They pass a dotted piece of paper back and forth between each other, playing a game of Foggy Boxes. The door opens loudly, drawing their attention. It seems Freddie has decided to show up after all.

‘I got held up,’ he shrugs.

‘Freddie's always late. Sit down, please,’ the teacher talks, using her hand as a character.

Cook pats the chair beside him and Grace, Freddie ignores both of them, sitting beside Effy instead. Laughing and shaking his head, Cook draws another line on the paper.

‘You're all gonna fail if you don't read the pucking book...’

‘I’ve read it, it was great! I didn’t really understand it though,’ Pandora says. ‘Did the ghost do it after all, or was it Voldemort? He’s a right beast, isn’t he?’

‘I think you got your books mixed up again, Panda,’ Katie explains.

‘So! In summary, the predominant themes of William Shakespeare's Hamlet are...’

‘Boring,’ Grace mutters under her breath. Cook hears, nudging her under the table with a grin.

‘Action, inaction, madness, madness, grief, death... Being, or not being. That is the question... Anyone else?’

‘Hamlet's basically a teenage boy. He's got these desires, but he doesn't have the bottle to reach for them,’ Naomi speaks up. ‘So, he goes mad and wanks off about Ophelia and ends up so boring that somebody has to kill him.’

‘I’m not sure that’s right. There’s no wanking in Hamlet.’

‘There is. Loads. Only they call it "soliloquizing”.’

Cook breaks out into a loud laugh, ‘nice one, blondie. She’s funny.’ Grace smiles at him, glad he’s forgotten a bit about yesterday.

As class finishes, Cook throws JJ outside onto the hallway floor, he tries to tickle him and tweak at his nipples. ‘Leave poor Jaybird alone, Cook.’ Grace shakes her head fondly at their boyish behaviour.

‘Look at him, he’s just asking for it, babe.’

‘Stop it... stop it, please! Thanks a lot, Cook. Now my nipples are really chafed.’

‘Freds!’ Cook calls out as Freddie exits the classroom. ‘Come on, mate. We're going down the boozer.’

‘Nah, I’m gonna—’

‘Come on! I need to get that fucking Dickens out me head. Let's get fucking trashed.’

‘Come on, Freds. It's been... ages since we last went out!’ JJ moves to stand up, Cook grabs hold of his backpack to help pull him off the ground.

‘Yeah, been ages since it was us four. I miss Summer,’ Grace adds.

‘Nah, I’m going home.’

Their faces immediately fall as Freddie walks away, Cook looks offended momentarily before masking it. He pouts at JJ before grabbing him, dropping him back to the floor with ease.

‘Cook! Not again, Cook!’ JJ calls between fits of laughter.

‘Have a tickle!’

‘I’d rather not. Are we going to the pub or not?’

‘Oi, patience, darling,’ Cook stops his tickle assault on JJ, moving to wrap his arm around Grace’s waist. She pouts at him, giving him her best doe-eyes. He falls for it every time, and he does this time too. ‘Alright, alright, let’s go, girl. Come on, Gay-Jay.’

⋆

‘Cook! Cook!’ Grace’s words are slurred as she slumps against the bar, having knocked back many pints and a few shots of tequila courtesy of Keith. ‘Cookie!’

‘You lookin’ for someone, sweetheart?’ An older man approaches, sleazy, button up half-undone.

‘Not you.’

‘We could have some fun you know, give us a smile.’

‘No, where’s Cook?’

‘I don’t know who, Cook, is darl. I can be Cook if you want.’ He grabs her arm, pulling her up from the bar.

‘Go a-way, leave me alone,’ she tugs her arm from his grasp.

‘Come on, sweets.’

‘No, no…’ the world is spinning as he pulls at her. Then she feels herself falling as he lets go, but something stops her, catches her. JJ. Through the blur she can see Cook land punch after punch on the older man.

‘Who the fuck are you!’ Cook shouts. ‘I’ll fucking kill you!’

‘That’s enough now, Cookie. Leave him with me and look after our little Gracie, hm?’ Keith steps forwards, cracking his knuckles. Two of the men she often sees around with him stand either side.

‘Cookie…’ Grace pouts, her lips quivering as her eyes well up with tears. God, the alcohol makes her feel. What she could usually mask comes crashing down under the weight of beer and tequila. Maybe Effy was right, maybe she’ll cling onto anything she can to try and dig herself out of this hole.

‘It’s alright, Grace… come on now girl. It’s alright,’ Cook’s voice was soft, almost a whisper as he gathers her in his arms. ‘Uncle Keith’s gonna deal with it, yeah?’

She nods, ‘yeah…’

‘Jay, help me get her home.’

‘Yeah, of course.’ JJ moves to her other side. ‘We’ve got you, Grace!’

‘Jaybird, you’re so sweet,’ Grace slurs. ‘Cookie, I wanna lay down.’

‘Can lay down soon, princess.’

‘With Cookie?’

‘Yeah, with Cookie, babe,’ he reaches up, tucking her hair behind her ear.

Thankfully, Grace lives quite close to Keith’s pub. It only took about ten minutes for them to get her home. What Cook wasn’t expecting was for her mother to answer the door.

‘Hi, Ms Keene. Just dropping Grace off home!’ JJ greets happily.

‘You must be Cook… and JJ,’ she looks at the two men before looking at her slumped over daughter. She swallows deeply; she can’t be mad at her for following her mother’s example. ‘Help her upstairs to bed, hm?’ With a sniffle she turns away as the boys head upstairs behind her. She pulls her dressing gown tighter around herself. Her daughter was like this because of her. Grace hadn’t just lost her father; she’d basically lost her mother too. She knows that. Yet, she continues to spiral and cause her daughter more harm. She’s pathetic, pitiful.

When they return, JJ is wishing her a goodnight and heading out the door. But Cook stays. He stands in the doorway of the living room, looking at her on the couch.

‘She really likes you, you know…’ Ms Keene tells him. ‘She talks to me about you… when I’m there to listen.’

‘I quite like her too,’ Cook nods. There’s a hint of firmness in his voice, like he’s warning her to stop hurting her daughter. But there’s also something more, something like empathy, there’s people he’s lost in a way too, people that he can no longer see. Ms Keene nods, a mutual understanding passing between them.

‘You’ll stay with her tonight?’

‘Yeah.’

‘She’ll like that. She’ll like you being there in the morning,’ Ms Keene looks away as the tears begin to fall. Cook notices the similarities between them in this moment, not just in physical appearance, but in little body languages. Walking over to the kitchen cabinet, she grabs some painkillers and a glass of water. ‘Take these up will you?’

Cook grabs them gently from her hands, his body tensing slightly as she places her palm gently on his shoulder. The gentlest of touches that he never got. ‘You’re a good boy, Cookie. Thank you for looking after my Grace. She’s my baby you know?’

For some strange reason, Cook’s own eyes grow glassy with tears. Perhaps it’s the touch, almost maternal, the words or gratitude, is it empathy maybe? He nods once before turning to walk up the stairs.

As he enters Grace’s room, she’s already passed out on her bed. He places the water and painkillers on the bedside table before taking off his trousers and shirt, remaining just in his pants. He gently removes her clothes too, pulling on some trackpants and a jumper to shield her from the cold air. Cook knows he’s fucked when he finds her more beautiful like this… a complete mess in baggy clothes, sprawled on her bed. He makes sure there’s a bucket next to the bed before crawling in next to her, pulling the covers over them. She snuggles into his warmth, even in slumber, as he gathers her in his arms.

Cook’s lips are gentle as he presses them to her forehead. For the whole night he only pulls away from her once to open a text message from his Uncle Keith. ‘Dealt with. Take care of our Gracie.’

⋆

[ragingcrier]

been working every day this week, hopefully new chapter tomorrow for inconsequential, slightly unsentimental.

[ragingcrier]

Is he playing Blackbird by The Beatles? 🥹 I need more of Jack playing the guitar and singing softly

x

[ragingcrier]

inconsequential, slightly unsentimental | twelve.

⋆

Grace walks hand in hand with Cook into Freddie’s shed, JJ trailing close behind them. He only lets go to start hitting at the punching bag as he excitedly recounts the events that had just happened.

‘You'll never guess what just happened. This skinny Asian fucker was at the Green, body popping on a bit of lino. He's got a little sign saying, "Anwar the Magnificent", right?’

That’s when JJ and Grace notice Effy sitting on the red floral armchair. Grace immediately falls silent, body tensing. She hadn’t spoken to Effy since Pandora’s party a few days ago, having found out what Effy had been going around saying.

‘Cook?’ JJ tries to interrupt but he keeps going.

‘He's busking, making cash money. So, I said to him if I can join in... And he says do I know the Buddha Buddha Cheese Buddha routine.’

‘Cook.’ Grace says quietly, grabbing his arm gently as he goes to punch the bag again.

‘So, I says…’ Cook pauses mid-word, mid-punch, noticing the change in her body language. He turns around, eyes falling onto Effy. ‘Well, blow bubbles up my bollocks and call me Shirley.’ He stalks over to Freddie, snatching the spliff out of his hand. His tone of voice wasn’t completely welcoming as he sits himself down.

‘Welcome to our fortress of solitude!’ JJ steps forwards with his hands out, trying to bring some positivity to the tense atmosphere.

A little while later they had all gotten comfortable in the shed. Grace was sitting on Cook’s lap in the armchair, Effy sitting on the floor beside them. JJ sat to the side and Freddie opposite from all of them.

‘I think I love the Sexxbombz…’ JJ says. ‘Karen's costume last night was a bit of a marvel.’

‘She looked quite pretty,’ Grace nods.

‘I'm pretty sure it defied the laws of physics. I mean, that tiny amount of material is surely not be able to cover the requisite surface area for UK broadcasting laws. Did you see it, Eff?’

‘No.’

‘Skirt was so short I saw her bumhole wink,’ Cook adds. He immediately looks down and sulks like a puppy when Grace turns to face him, brow raised. ‘Sorry.’

‘Better be fucking sorry.’ In response, Cook presses a kiss to the back of her neck; arms wrapped around her waist. An awkward silence falls over the shed, broken up by JJ’s clap.

‘Pass the spliff, Freddiebrek.’

‘Trick?’ Cook taps Grace’s thigh to get up, moving over to sit by JJ.

‘Don't worry, I've perfected it.’ JJ eats the spliff, coughing and choking. ‘Water! Water!’ He reaches down, picking up the jug of piss that the boy’s keep in the shed in case of emergencies.

‘Oh, no way!’ Cook’s cracking up at this point.

‘Jaybird, nah,’ Grace’s nose scrunches as she watches him drink. He picks up a lighter, holding it to his mouth before spitting. Flames erupt from his mouth like a flamethrower, Effy screams.

Cook breaks out into applause, laughing loudly, ‘fucking Genius!’ Grace smiles at his excitement.

‘How long have you had that planted there?’ Freddie asks about the lighter.

‘About eight months.’

‘Fucking genius.’ Cook claps him on the knee. ‘Fucking top, mate. That's fucking tip toparoo.’ He stands up next to Grace, putting an arm around her shoulder. ‘Keen for a trip outside, princess?’

‘You’re finally together then?’ Effy asks.

‘Surprising is it?’ Grace leans back against the car, voice dripping with underlying anger. ‘But it’s not actually, cause my mum is depressed isn’t she? So I must be lonely… need someone to cling to.’

Effy’s gaze drops, body language becoming tense as she realises why Grace had been ignoring her. Her words had come back to bite her in the ass, she knew it must have been Panda. ‘That’s not—’

‘You know, Ef, jealousy’s a bad look on you,’ Cook grins. ‘I know me cock is unforgettable but that’s not Gracie’s fault.’

‘Cook, love, leave it please,’ Grace turns to face him, speaking to him quietly. But he’s angry, memories of Grace the night they’d found her mum amongst smashed glass and empty bottles swirl in his mind, and he keeps going.

‘I think you just need to get laid, might not be as good as me but it’ll help get the tension out,’ he spits. ‘What about JJ, or Fredster? I mean that’s why you’re here isn’t it?’

Effy remains silent as he speaks to her, jaw clenched. The atmosphere in the shed was once again tense, unwelcoming.

‘Nah? Nothin’ to say?’ Cook bends down, getting in her face. ‘This is our place, right? Get to fuck.’

JJ and Freddie both hang their heads as Effy looks to them for defence. Turning she looks to Grace but only receives an emotionless expression. She exits the shed and Freddie moves to follow, but Cook stops him.

‘Mate, try and stir my porridge if you want but I'd say even Jay's got a better chance than you. I mean, when was the last time you breathed fire?’ He taps Freddies nose. ‘Go after her, go on, but you’ll be fucking over our lovely lady if you do,’ Cook gestures back to Grace.

She steps forwards, grabbing his arm and lowering it. ‘C’mon, let’s just go,’ Grace’s voice is soft, close to wavering. She’d been hit right where it hurts, her weak spot, her mother whom she loved more than anything. He turns to look at her, still caught up in irritation. ‘Please.’

Cook’s face softens almost imperceptibly, ‘right.’ He guides her out from behind, hands gentle on her waist.

⋆

Grace and Cook lay in the park, bodies sprawled out on the green grass as they share a spliff between each other. Her head rests in the spot between his chest and shoulder, over his collarbone. He brings the spliff up to his lips after she had her own turn.

‘Fred really likes her, huh?’ Grace breaks the comfortable silence.

‘Yeah, and he’ll come running back to me once she shatters his little feelings,’ Cook scoffs. ‘She’s too wild for ‘im. Fucking forget who his best friend is…’

Grace has realised over the weeks how much the feud with Freddie had been affecting him. Cook loves Freddie, she knows that the two had grown together. His feelings are completely understandable. She also knows that Cook isn’t a big fan of change, doesn’t handle it well. She presses her lips softly to his jawline which makes him tilt his head down, catching her in a lazy kiss.

He stubs out the spliff on the ground, tossing it aside as he rolls atop her. One arm wraps around her shoulders, the other on her hip.

‘You know I think the family over there with the little kids probably won’t appreciate this.’ Grace mumbles against his lips, her hands cradling his face.

‘Mm, don’t give a fuck,’ he mouths at her neck.

‘I’m all for a bit of public indecency…’ she chuckles before pushing at his chest. ‘Just not in front of children.’ Cook groans, rolling onto his back. Grace reaches up to play with his hair, sweeping it across his forehead. ‘What’re you doing later? I have leftover pizza at home. We could watch a movie and shag?’ She smirks, hand running down to trace patterns on his lower abdomen.

‘Oh, princess, you know I’d love a fuck…’ Cook smirks, but then his face falls, almost vulnerable. A sight hidden from most. ‘But I’m gonna go try ‘n see Paddy.’

Grace turns onto her stomach, eyes soft as she gazes into his, showing her full attention. ‘Yeah,’ she nods. ‘That’ll be really nice. I’m sure Paddy will enjoy seeing his big brother.’

‘If I get to see him,’ he scoffs.

‘Just be calm, alright?’ Her hand moves back up to his hair, nails lightly scratching his scalp in the way she knows he enjoys. ‘I know your mum pisses you off, but if you wanna see Paddy…’

‘I know.’

Grace gives him a long kiss; he tries to follow her lips as she pulls back. ‘And if shit is shit… then I took the alcohol from my mum’s room.’

‘A princess after my heart,’ he grins.

⋆

Grace was laying on the couch watching a movie, the rain had picked up outside after the sun had set. It was cozy. She had a big fluffy blanket, a bag of Maltesers, a tea, and one of Cook’s jumpers on. Speak of the devil and he shall appear, his familiar knock sounds at the door. With great difficulty, Grace manages to make her way to the incessant sound, flinging open the door. She opens her mouth to make a sassy remark but closes it at the sight of his expression. He looked like a downtrodden puppy.

‘Cookie, what happened?’ She pulls him inside, closing the door behind him. He immediately wraps his arms around her waist, burying his head into her neck. Grace’s hand runs through his hair, it’s slightly wet from the rain. ‘Come lay down.’

She lays back down on the couch, letting him curl up next to her, head resting on her chest. He still doesn’t speak, but his breathing has calmed down, matching the steady beat of her heart.

‘Couldn’t see Paddy?’ Grace’s voice is soft. Cook shakes his head in response. ‘You know, I’d love to meet him one day.’

‘You’d get along well,’ he finally speaks. ‘Both sassy little shits.’

‘And yet here you are.’

‘Here I am…’ Cook speaks, but it sounds almost as if he’s talking to himself rather than a response. He presses a kiss to the soft skin of her neck before resting his head back on her chest.

Grace pulls the blanket up over the two of them, Cook’s skin was cold, she didn’t like it, she likes him warm. Her fingers massage his head, nails lightly scratching his scalp. He would never say it out loud, but it was one of his favourite things. She knew it, she knew by the way his breathing deepened, his shoulders becoming less tense as he drifts to sleep curled up against her. Grace presses a kiss to his head and continues watching the movie playing, eventually falling asleep too.

⋆

[ragingcrier]

inconsequential, slightly unsentimental | eleven.

mature warning: this chapter involves smut.

⋆

Katie and Grace are downstairs looking for more brownies after witnessing Pandora and Effy have a feud. They look in to the oven and all over the kitchen, but it seems there’s not left.

‘Fuck’s sake,’ Grace groans. ‘Cook was meant to bring me some more, but fuck knows where he’s gone.’

‘Where he’s gone?’

‘Yeah, he was trying to peep me through the window earlier.’

‘Oh, sounds like that toss—’ Katie is cut off by the sight in the backyard. Her sister and Naomi are jumping around in the bouncy castle but end up kissing.

‘Wow,’ Grace stands next to Katie. ‘Saw that coming.’

‘What?’

‘Your sister likes girls, Katie,’ she shrugs. Before Katie can respond, the sound of loud cars pulling up in the driveway catches their attention. Katie’s shit house boyfriend Danny and his mates have pulled up. ‘Why are they here?’

‘I don’t know,’ Katie says, annoyed, walking over to the door. It’s then that she realises how many people he has actually brought with him. ‘Oh shit.’

‘Yes! Pyjama party, check it out, lads. Nice one!’ Danny walks over, pressing a kiss to Katie’s cheek.

‘You're not meant to be here, remember?’

‘Come on. Have a heart. We lost 7-0 again, innit? You know the lads... Tommo, Marco. How you doing, man? Jonno, Sambo, Keeno, Danno, Paedo!’ With each name, another person enters the house.

‘Oh god,’ Grace goes upstairs before any of them can notice her, deciding she should probably check on Panda’s mum anyway.

As she enters Pandora’s mum’s bedroom, the party downstairs starts raging on, music blaring and the sound of jumping feet. She leans over, brushing the hair out of the sleeping woman’s face. ‘Sorry… gonna be a lot to clean up.’

Her head snaps up as a rattling noise echoes around the room. She looks around, trying to find where it’s coming from. ‘Hello?’

‘The fucking door's locked itself, hasn't it?’ A familiar voice speaks, muffled. An involuntary grin immediately works itself on her face as she laughs. Walking over to the cupboard, she presses on the door, opening it out.

Cook stands there in a green polo t-shirt, one arm is up grasping the stretching pole with hanging coats, the other down by his side, grasping the neck of a bottle of vodka, ‘hey.’ He grins widely.

‘Hello,’ she crosses her arms. ‘Should’ve pulled.’

‘Yeah, well, I will now, won’t I?’ He looks her up and down in the hand stitched pyjama top, the grin never wiping off his face. ‘Is this the cupboard for drugs and sex?’

‘You don’t give a fuck, do you?’ Grace asks, but there’s no venom in it.

‘Nope.’ He takes a swig of vodka, smiling wide. Cook shuts the cupboard door behind her as she walks in.

‘Alright, give it,’ she holds her hand out, a beckoning motion.

‘Aw, no thank you, Cookie? No reward?’

‘I think you peeping me through the window was enough of a reward, no?’

Cook laughs cheekily while putting down the vodka, he reaches into his pocket, opening the baggie in his hand. Grace scoops some out onto her finger, bringing it up to her nose. She repeats the motion again to give him some before he seals the bag and puts it back into his pocket.

‘I thought it was a girl’s only party?’ Cook asks, referring to the loud sounds coming from downstairs.

‘Katie spiked the brownies with MDMA, it knocked out Panda’s mum. Panda, who is now locked in the loo and crying. Katie’s sleaze boyfriend showed up with all his fuckhead mates.’

‘You got anymore brownies? I fucking love brownies.’

‘Yeah, me too. They were fucking delicious, ran out though.’ Grace nods watching as a pout overtakes his features. She grins, giggling at how adorable he looks. ‘Don’t worry, baby, I can bake you some more.’

He immediately grins, tongue touching his teeth as he looks her up and down once before stepping forward. Cook presses his lips to Grace’s, she eagerly returns his affections, arms coming up to wrap around his neck. He lifts her up with two hands cupping her backside, her legs wrapping around his waist as he pins her to the wall.

Cook’s kisses move from her mouth to her jawline, lavishing open-mouthed kisses down her neck. His hips grind up into her hard as he bounces her on his hips, letting her feel how she affects him. She moans breathily, holding his head to her neck. His hand moves down, unzipping his trousers and teasing the waistband of her pyjama shorts when she feels something strange against her back.

‘Wait—Cook, wait.’

Too caught up in her, he doesn’t register her words until the wall falls out from behind them, apparently the cupboard was double sided. They tumble onto the floor and into another room with a yelp.

‘What the fuck?’ Grace looks around at the room.

‘What’s going on?’ Cook gets up, eyes wide as his eyes fall on the bed in front of them, handcuffs on the pillows. ‘Are we...? Are we next door?’ He zips up his trousers as he looks through the camera pointed at the bed.

‘Yeah, I think so.’

Cook chuckles as he pushes a DVD into the nearby player, set up below a tv. He sits down on the end of the bed, pulling Grace down beside him. A man shows up on screen, shirtless, then Pandora’s mum.

‘Hello. I'm Martin. This is Angela.'

‘Oh my god, that’s the creep neighbour.’

Cook grins and laughs, wrapping his arm around Grace’s shoulder. ‘Fucking peak.’

‘You know, as much as I’m enjoying watching Pandora’s mum’s sex tape with you, I really should check downstairs that Katie has survived.’

‘I’m sure she’s fine,’ Cook smirks, leaning over to cage her between his arms, laying her back on the bed. ‘We should make the most of this fucking set up, give me something to watch when you’re busy?’

Grace leans up to kiss him, her fingers moving to fiddle with the hair on the back of his neck. ‘Hm, how tempting,’ she hums. ‘But no.’ Her hands push him gently off her and he sighs, flopping onto his back. Leaning over, she pecks the corner of his lips. ‘Find me later?’

‘Mm,’ he hums, nodding.

⋆

Grace went downstairs and ended up dancing with Katie for hours, all the way until the party had ended, thanks to the police who knocked on the door. It cleared out pretty quickly, just with one warning, nobody wanting to risk getting drug tested. She was walking Katie and Emily out when she turned around to find Pandora, who had finally exited the loo.

‘Panda?’ Grace asks gently, pulling the poor girl into a hug. ‘You’re okay.’

The blonde doesn’t hug back, instead pushing her off. Grace looks at her bewildered but doesn’t arc up, knowing that Pandora is very upset.

‘You’re just like the others,’ Panda says, crying. ‘You act sweet and nice, but you’re exactly the same. You just care about drinking and drugs and this was supposed to be a nice night! We were supposed to play twister and eat brownies; you were supposed to tell me how to do sex with my boyfriend who got deported.’

‘I’m sorry, Panda,’ Grace apologises genuinely. ‘We should’ve realised how much this meant to you.’

‘You all just do whatever you want. You just bog around cause Cook is surfin’ and turfin’ other women and your mum is depressed, and you feel lonely!’

Grace goes stiff, fingers clenching the sides of the pyjama top she wears. ‘How do you know about that?’

‘Effy told me, said you’d cling to anyone cause your mum doesn’t care for you! So just bog off!’ Pandora shouts in her face before storming off upstairs, back to her room.

Not moving, Grace breathes deeply, trying to steady the rage building up inside of her. She turns her head when she hears a rattle, Cook places down an empty beer can in the trashed living room, spliff in hand. ‘How much of that did you see?’ Her voice is soft, most wouldn’t hear it, but Cook did, he always did. His ears attuned to your voice.

‘All of it,’ he inhales. ‘Alright, Gracie?’

‘Not really,’ she shakes her head, looking into his eyes before looking front on again.

Cook steps across the room over some mess to stand behind her. One hand comes up to her hip, gentle, while the other brings his spliff up to her mouth. As her body leans back against his instinctually, she inhales the mix of weed and tobacco. ‘We're the last ones standing. No-one's got any stamina these days.’

‘I think it was more the police that scared everyone away. Not a good look if a sports team gets done on narcotics…’

‘No, that’s true.’

‘I’d like to say I didn’t think Effy would do something like that, but I’d be lying,’ Grace turns to face him, letting him take the spliff back. ‘I should’ve just played fucking twister’

‘You still can,’ he says, stepping back to gesture to the map. ‘How d’you do it anyway?’

Grace smiles, knowing he’s trying to cheer her up. She walks over to the couch, grabbing the board with the colours and body parts on it. She spins the dial. ‘Right hand, yellow.’ She gently grabs his hand, placing it down on a yellow circle. Grace spins it again, putting her left foot on blue. ‘Now you.’

‘Ah,’ Cook nods, reaching over to spin the dial for his turn.

The two play round after round, giggling and chatting as they share the spliff. They tumble over each other and into each other. Cook sneakily steals kisses whenever his face is close enough to hers. They play until the spliff runs out and they fail to stay in position. Cook falls onto his back, and Grace on top of him, his head between her knees. He looks up at her as a silence falls over them, comfortable, familiar. Lifting his head, he presses a soft kiss to her inner thigh, dragging his lips along it before kissing again.

‘For what it’s worth, I like that you do whatever you want…’ Cook mumbles against her skin as he looks up at her.

Grace laughs as she moves off of him, reaching out to play with the hair that falls over his forehead. ‘That’s cause you also do whatever you want.’

‘Yeah,’ he sits up. ‘And right now I wanna do you.’

She stares deep into his eyes, trying to find any semblance of falsity. But all that is reflected back at her is truth, care, want. ‘Fuck it.’ The words escape her lips as quick as she’s acting, moving onto his lap and slamming her mouth to his. Cook lifts her, laying her back onto the twister mat as he pulls his shirt over his head, reconnecting their lips without a second to waste. Her hands run over the hard planes of his chest and abdomen, only breaking contact for him to pull her top off.

Cook looks down at her, his bottom lip sucked between his teeth as he recalls that morning, how she’d left the house after letting him know she had no bra on. His hand cups one mound, kneading with a sensual gentleness while his head lowers to the other. His tongue laves over her peaks, nibbling and suckling.

Grace reaches down to unzip his trousers but before she can dip beneath them, he grabs her wrists. ‘Nah, darlin’, gonna worship you.’ And he does. His lips and tongue trailing down the valley of her breasts to the waistband of her shorts. His fingers curl into them, pulling them down her legs and chucking them aside carelessly. He flattens his tongue over her knickers, licking a stripe up the wet cotton without breaking eye contact. She moans, her head falling back, fingers carding into his hair as he removes the final barrier. Though he was the one to promise worship to her, his name was falling from her lips like a prayer as he devoured her, a man starved. And lord, did he savour it.

She feels the familiar knot in her stomach as he laps at her sweetness. His large hands hold her thighs open even as she tries to squirm away from the stimulation. With another moan of his name, she falls apart, thighs quivering on either side of his head, back arched and hips bucking involuntarily. Cook smirks as he crawls back up her body, silencing her with the taste of herself on his lips and tongue.

He sits up on his knees to tug down his trousers and pants, laying back over her. Her legs splay open wider, welcoming, her body reacting instinctually as if it knows he’s all she wants, all she needs. Her ankles hook around him, heels digging into the small of his back as he guides his considerable size through her folds, pressing in slowly.

‘Fuck,’ his head drops to her shoulder as he bottoms out inside of her, setting a slow but strong pace. Each rock of his hips is firm, her body bouncing beneath him. His hand is splayed out over her arse and hip while the other arm holds him up.

Grace relishes the feeling of him finally inside her, it was as good as she had imagined. He fits perfectly to her, her soft curves moulding to his hard planes. They breathe heavily into each other’s mouths as he ruts into her with increasing fervour. She almost finishes from the sound of him whimpering alone.

‘Fuck, fuck…’ he chants against her skin as he presses hot, open-mouthed kisses down her neck and across her collarbone. His fingers trail down from her breast to rub small circles on her clit; in only moments she is seeing stars. White-hot pleasure tears through her as she cries his names, his own whimper of ‘Gracie,’ as he comes undone prolonging her orgasm.

Cook collapses on top of her briefly before rolling to the side, both are panting, staring at the ceiling. Grace is the first to break the comfortable silence, ‘you know, I didn’t think the first time I slept with you we’d be on a twister mat.’

He turns his head to look at her, and she smiles while taking in his flushed expression. ‘No? You’ve thought about it though,’ he says cheekily, grinning.

‘You know… maybe it was a twister mat. Never know with you.’

‘Well, if you want we can go do it again in your bed?’

Grace rolls over onto her stomach, reaching out to run a finger over his cheekbone. Cook’s hand comes up to hold hers in place, turning his head while maintaining eye contact, placing a soft kiss to her palm.

‘Yeah, why not.’ She smiles.

⋆

[ragingcrier]

inconsequential, slightly unsentimental | ten.

⋆

Grace stirs the next morning, snuggling into the warmth that surrounds her. His scent is everywhere, her pillows, her sheets, him, and boy is it addictive. Her hand is splayed out over his chest right next to where her head rests. His chest still rises and falls deeply with slumber, knowing him he could probably sleep the whole day away. When he’s awake he’s jumping from wall to wall, as energetic as they come, but once he’s asleep, Cook is dead to the world.

She reaches up a delicate finger to trace over the slope of his nose, then his lips and jaw. Leaning up, Grace presses a soft kiss to his lips, and he immediately responds, stirring from his slumber.

‘Thank you… for last night.’

Cook doesn’t say anything, he just looks up at her with big blue eyes, lips slightly parted. His heart jolts in his chest. Her hair fell messily down around her face as she hovered above him, her eyes were puffy from crying, there was some leftover mascara that he hadn’t managed to get off, but he still found her beautiful. That fact terrified him.

‘Cook?’

He’s still staring.

‘Cookie?’ Grace leans her forehead against his and he finally snaps out of it, clearing his throat.

‘Still waking up…’ his voice is husky with sleep as he shuts his eyes again, knowing he’ll get stuck staring if he doesn’t.

‘I’m not so sure about that.’ Grace shifts her leg, smirking knowingly as it brushes over his crotch.

Cook lets out a huff, opening one of his eyes, ‘what, you gonna fix it then, princess?’

‘Hm,’ Grace pretends to consider it. ‘Nah,’ she grins cheekily, getting up as he’s left in her bed with a morning erection.

‘At least a hand job?’ He calls out after her, but she’s already in the ensuite, getting ready for the day. Cook’s head lifts as he brings up the cover to look down, huffing, he throws his head back on the pillow. She’d be the death of him.

When she returns from the bathroom, Cook is dressed in his clothes from yesterday, running a hand through his messy hair. He takes her in, noticing she’s slightly dressed up, makeup all done and pretty. ‘What’s going on and what am I not invited to?’ He looks offended.

‘Panda’s having a party,’ she finishes brushing her hair. Grace moves over, standing between his legs where he’s sat on the end of her bed, using the brush to fix his hair back into place.

‘Alright, keen, what do you want? I’ll stop at Uncle Keith’s,’ Cook’s hands come up to her hips, his thumbs rubbing small circles instinctually.

‘It’s girls only.’

‘What?’ He leans back on his elbows, voice coming out loudly as he rolls his eyes.

‘Yeah, sorry, guess you miss out this time.’

‘Still wouldn’t mind if you could get something from Keith for me though…’ Grace bites her bottom lip as a grin overtakes her features. She leans forward, running her fingers down his chest before her hands land on his thighs, knowing it’ll get him.

‘Aw, you fuckin—I just got it to go down!’ He groans. ‘You’re a filthy minx.’

‘You’ll get some for me?’ She bats her eyelashes, and he can’t resist.

‘Oh fucking—fine. Payment’s payment though, flash your tits.’

Grace laughs, standing up straight. Her fingers grip to the bottom of her top as she pulls it up to show her breasts, and the fact that she doesn’t have a bra on. After a few seconds she lowers it again, grinning at Cook who looks in a trance. ‘Close your mouth before you start drooling.’

‘Well, I know something I can close it around…’ He bites his lip with a grin, sitting up to reach for her tits but she swats his hand away. Cook laughs as he stands up. ‘Can’t get it for you now, babe, Uncle Keith’s running his trivia, but I’ll bring some to you later yeah?’

‘Fine, but you can’t stay,’ she says sternly, knowing he’ll try to use it as an excuse to get into Pandora’s party.

‘Alright, princess, alright.’ Cook holds his hands up in surrender. ‘Now you gonna snog me before you fuck off or do I just get left with a fucking boner?’

Grace considers being cheeky and leaving him high and dry, but she ends up deciding she’ll entertain the young man who had cared for her last night. Her lips press against his softly. It’s not a kiss of lust and passion, but rather of thanks and unspoken affections. Then the mischievousness comes back, and she trails kisses up his cheek before nipping at his earlobe, pulling away.

‘Fucking filthy,’ he shakes his head, giving her arse a soft smack before he exits.

⋆

Grace knocks on the door of Panda’s house, scowling at the man next door who watches her with keen eyes.

‘Fuck off?’ She spits.

The door swings open to reveal Katie, ‘oh thank god you’re here.’

The man continues to staring at them, mumbling something under his breath but they both hear. They turn to him at the same time, ‘fuck off!’ Katie pulls Grace inside.

‘Her mum is batshit crazy,’ Katie whispers to Grace as she pulls her to the kitchen, ‘we’re about to make brownies. You’ll see what I mean.’

About ten minutes later, Grace is sifting flour and looking between Katie and Effy, each with the same expression of bewilderment as Pandora and her mum start singing, making them join in.

‘London's burning, London's burning... Making brownies, making brownies. Really yummy, really yummy. Making brownies, making brownies. In the kitchen, in the kitchen...’

Effy distracts Pandora’s mum while Katie comes up beside Grace, pouring a baggie into the flour. She has to stop herself from laughing, sharing a smirk with Katie. There’s a knock at the door and Pandora and her mum both go to answer. ‘Thank fuck for you, Katie,’ Grace whispers to her as they exit.

‘Katie!’ They hear Pandora call out, the two of them walk into the living room while Effy stays behind with the brownies. ‘They’re twins! C’est incroyable, baby.’

‘Sorry?’ Pandora’s mum asks.

‘It’s French. Thomas taught me. He’s such a blinking dream and… Bugger,’ Pandora realises she has blurted about Thomas in front of her mum.

‘Thomas? Who’s Thomas?’

‘Oh, you know…’

‘Pandora. I do hope you haven’t been defying me on the subject of boys.’

‘He’s my boyfriend, actually. He does, um, excellent French,’ Naomi saves the day.

‘Right. Well, Pandora knows my opinion on boyfriends.’

‘They just want to get into my box,’ Pandora says.

Grace and Katie look at each other with a shared expression. Again, bewilderment.

‘Yes, and I do hope all of you will respect that in this house we do not allow unruly males at parties. I’m sure your parents would say the same thing.’

Reminder to let Cook know not to be seen by Pandora’s mother when he drops stuff off.

‘Um… Yeah.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Yup,’ Grace, Emily, Naomi and Katie all speak at the same time. ‘Boys. Eeugh. Disgusting.’

‘Gross, really.’

‘There you go, Katie and Emily. Completely identical.’ Pandora changes the subject, turning to her mum.

‘Are you interested in all the same things?’

‘Um…’ Katie scoffs.

‘I’m not sure,’ Emily answers.

‘You like Twister, though?’ Pandora asks excitedly.

‘Sorry?’

‘Twister! It’s brill! It’s gonna be twistomatic, baby!’ She rushes out of the room, going on about something to do with the night and twister.

‘I’m afraid Pandora gets over-stimulated. We do exercises nightly.’ Her mum whispers. ‘Oh, I’ve left pyjamas out for you all. They’re pink and… clean. Very, very clean.’ She rushes off after Pandora.

The girls all turn to look at each other silently for a second before breaking out into laughter.

⋆

Slightly later, Grace, the Fitch twins, and Naomi have moved up to Pandora’s room. They’re sitting on her bed as they all stare at the twister mat on the floor. Grace is on her phone, sending a text message to Cook who she knows will most likely be showing up soon enough.

Don’t be seen by Panda’s mum, I fear she might castrate you.

COOK<3: Don’t you worry, babes, I’m a man of stealth.

She laughs to herself, he’s anything but. Her attention turns back to the twister mat.

‘Twister. Are you shitting me?’ Naomi asks nobody.

‘Don’t worry. I spiked the chocolate brownies with MDMA,’ Katie smirks.

Grace grins, hugging Katie over the shoulders from behind.

‘You what?’ Emily questions.

‘Yeah. Appreciate it, ok. There’s fucking 40 quid’s worth in there.’

‘You think it’s funny?’

‘It is kind of,’ Naomi laughs.

‘Yeah, enter into the spirit, Ems.’

‘I know I’m grateful,’ Grace lays back down on the bed.

‘So, Katie you gonna be nice to me now we’re Twister pals? I promise not to grab your minge and everything,’ Naomi jokes.

‘Ok, ha ha. Hands off the muff and we’re sorted.’

‘Gotcha! No buffing the beaver.’

‘No groping the growler.’

They go back and forth, laughing.

‘Don’t tickle on my tinkle!’

‘Ok, I won’t fluff up your flange.’

‘You done?’ Emily says sternly.

‘Yep. We’re double done with the DNA dump.’

Grace joins in on the giggles when Pandora walks in, holding a pile of some sort of hideous fabric. ‘Hey, guys! What do you think? Mum made them specially, and look!’ She holds up a pink pyjama top, a bunch of different fabrics sewn together, mismatched and oversized. It reads “sexy-poo” on the front.

‘Oh god…’ Grace whispers under her breath.

‘Jesus,’ Naomi mutters.

‘So you can have Sexy Poo…’ Pandora throws the top—though it’s big enough to be a dress—at Grace. ‘Or Brainy Poo. Except for me, cause I have Panda Poo! Mum and me sewed them on. It was a wacker job, I’m telling you.’

‘I’m not wearing that.’ Naomi stares at the top in her hand.

‘Why not? It’s a pyjama party.’

‘What the fuck? Give it here,’ Katie says, feeling bad for the blonde.

‘Oh, Wizzer Poo! Because look what goes with them. Isn’t Mum wick?’ She holds up a pair of matching shorts that have “bum” sewn into the back.

⋆

Meanwhile outside, Cook is crouched in the garden with JJ thanks to Grace’s warning. JJ rambles on something about it being a girls-only event. They move over to hide behind the car in the driveway.

‘So let me enlighten you, Double J. Pyjama party means only one thing - girls getting friendly. Plus, I’m here for a delivery.’

‘Friendly? A delivery?’

‘Oh, yeah. Real friendly.’ He pulls a small baggie from his trouser pocket, shaking it in front of JJ. ‘Gracie, bonus if I get to see her undressed, Gay J.’

‘Hang on. Even I know that only happens in overblown and possibly illegal teen dramas. Mum says there's a lot less sex going on than I might imagine.’

‘You never experienced wish fulfilment, J?’

‘Never.’

‘They're all in there, girls getting to know each other, experimenting, getting lubed up and gagging for forbidden fruit and we're gonna give it to them,’ Cook gets up, walking around the car.

‘If Freddie was here...’ JJ remains still.

Cook moves to crouch in front of him again, annoyed that he brought him up. ‘Do you see Freddie?’ JJ shakes his head. ‘Did we invite Freddie?’

‘No.’

‘And why didn’t we invite him?’

‘Because he's a fun-sponge?’

 ‘You got it,’ Cook gets back up, walking off, he finds the vodka in the bush that Pandora had made Naomi leave earlier. JJ trails behind him. ‘You see? It's a sign.’

The door rattles, Cook immediately reacts, jumping into a bush on the side while JJ is frozen still.

‘Yes?’ Pandora’s mum asks.

‘Um… hello?’ He says awkwardly.

‘I'll call the police,’ she slams the door, staring at him with unblinking eyes through the rippled glass until he walks away.

Only ten minutes later is JJ back again, alongside Cook who had made him scale the gutter and onto the roof next to the second-floor window. Pandora’s bedroom window.

‘This is a fantasy and I have to tell you, a poorly constructed one. Just because I have a natural facility on a climbing wall...’ JJ rambles.

‘Get in there.’ He pushes JJ to lean over the edge and look in the window. ‘Come on, we need to see them doing it.’

‘For the last time, they won't be doing it. They won't be naked, or engaged in mutual masturbation...’

‘Check.’

‘What?’

‘I'm requesting a check. Is that too much to ask of a friend?’ JJ sighs, always giving in to Cook. He leans over, looking into the window. His eyes immediately blown wide, jaw dropping open. ‘What the fuck?’ Cook pulls him back.

‘Oh, my god, oh, my god, oh my god!’

‘What... What? What?’

‘They're n... na...’ JJ stutters.

‘Please say naked.’

‘Nearly naked!’

‘That’s good enough for me,’ Cook is immediately pushing JJ out the way, chuckling and grinning with excitement as he leans over back of him.

He looks into the window, an even bigger smile takes over his expression as he comes face to face with Grace, only in her knickers. And he looks—only at her. She makes eye contact, her brow raising in question. He reaches back into his pocket, using JJ for support as he grabs out the baggie, shaking it in his hand for her to see, pleased when a grin overtakes her features.

‘I can't hang on. I'm going to slip! Cook! Cook! Cook! Cook!’ JJ panics, but it’s too late, both boys falling off the roof and onto the pavement with a yell.

‘What was that?’ Katie asks.

‘Nothing, that creepy neighbour I think,’ Grace answers, pulling the ugly pyjama shirt over her head. It falls over her body, hem down at her mid-thighs. The bedroom door opens; Pandora’s mum stands there with a plate of brownies.

‘Hey, Mum. Look. We're pretty in pink!’ Pandora says excitedly.

‘Oh! That's wonderful, girls. I must compliment myself, though. My brownies are usually delicious, but I've really excelled myself. This is my third already,’ she bites into another. Grace and Katie share a glance as they each grab a few.

‘Yum... I'm gonna have three. Thanks, Mum.’

‘Yeah, sure... Wow. Listen to that.’ Pandora’s mum tilts her head. ‘Can you hear the music? Oh, yeah!’ She starts bopping her head, starting to move her body. Effy, who had obviously had a few brownies herself, joins in.

‘Mum?’ Pandora asks, confused.

‘Oh, that's beautiful. Oh, it sounds...’

‘What's she doing?’

‘Wonderful, oh, wow!’

‘Yeah, I’m getting it,’ Effy nods.

‘I'm telling you. That is fucking good shit!

‘What have you done?’

‘Eat a cake, Panda, it’s gonna be a long night.’ Naomi says.

Grace hands Pandora another brownie, ‘eat up, sweets.’

As the MDMA-laced brownies start to take over all their systems, they each join in on dancing, the music once unheard now fills their heads. Pandora watches on upset as she too feels the familiar tingle of a drug-induced state, she storms out of the room. But each of them are too far gone to notice. They jump around with their hands up, screaming and dancing.

Outside, Cook and JJ stand in the driveway, looking up through the window at the girls having fun.

‘I'm telling you, man. We gotta fucking get in there!’ Cook points.

‘No,’ JJ defies.

‘No?’

‘Freddie says, every time you ask me to do something, just say no.’

‘He said that?’

‘Yes. It's a song which gives useful lifestyle advice but more than that, it’s also a state of mind,’ JJ explains.

‘Maybe me and Freds will have words. But somehow, love you or leave you, Gay J, I'm going to this party. You’re coming?’ Cook walks over to the gutter, climbing it once more. The bottle of vodka is shoved into his trousers.

‘No, just say no.’

‘Suit yourself, Gay J.’

‘Oh, balls!’ JJ turns away as Cook climbs back onto the ceiling, he dials Freddie. ‘Freds, you gotta get down here! We've gone to Nine.’

'Nine?' Freddie’s voice comes through the phone.

‘Affirmative. It's a Niner. Code Red. He's going in.’

‘Stop him, JJ. Stop him!’

But it was too late, Cook had already found an open window, ‘result.’ He jumps inside, uncapping and taking a swig of vodka, ‘oh god,’ he screws his face up at the foul taste. There’s a sound at the door, people approaching. He hurriedly looks around for a place to hide, before settling on the wardrobe. He steps in, shutting the door behind him. But as he goes to leave after the voices were gone, the door doesn’t budge. ‘Oh man.’

⋆

[ragingcrier]

inconsequential, slightly unsentimental | nine.

⋆

Johnny White immediately approaches Thomas, paying the others no mind. ‘Morning, fella. Now we're really gonna fellate you.’ But then his head turns, eyes falling upon Cook who stands there awkwardly, not meeting his gaze. ‘Gentlemen. Didn't I say I'd kill you if I ever saw you again?’ He rips the chain off Cook’s neck, grabbing a baseball bat out of one of his men’s hands. ‘Believe this is mine. I love my work. Love it.’

Grace moves to stand in front of Cook, she’s not sure whether it’s instinctually, stupidly, bravely, maybe a mix of everything. Johnny regards her with the raising of a brow, then the quirk of his lips. Her mouth opens to speak, but before she can, Thomas does.

‘You must be some kind of English pussy cunt?’ Johnny turns to Thomas, bewildered that someone would speak to him like such. ‘You heard me. I think you're afraid. Possibly your father was a homosexual donkey. I will fight you by myself. You can choose any weapon.’

‘You just made my day,’ Johnny White gets in his face. The next minute they’re all being escorted away. Grace looks at Cook with an expression that he reads clearly, you will explain, and it makes him shiver.

⋆

They whole group stands awkwardly behind Thomas, guarded either side by Johnny’s lackies. Thomas himself is sat at a table, the cloth over it checkered red and white. Johnny stares across at him, two more lackies on his sides.

‘So, in summary, I win. You are my gimp forever, I take all your money, beat you, and your mates to a pulp, and my boys rape all the women.’

There are gasps, both from the group and also his lackies who don’t seem to fond of the idea either. Cook’s hand flicks out to grab Grace’s wrist, pulling her closer into his side.

‘Um, boss, the lads... The lads aren't too keen, you know, on the rape…’ The man to Johnny’s left speaks.

‘For fuck's sake! I'm talking dangerous! Can nobody talk dangerous anymore? Jesus! fucking Bristol. No ambition. No... edge, no style. You know? Provincial.’

‘Sorry, boss.’

‘I'm ready. How do you want to fight?’ Thomas asks.

‘Promise you. You're gonna shit yourself. Oh, yeah,’ Johnny clicks his fingers, and a man places a covered dish onto the table. ‘You ever seen a Naga Jolokia before, Thomas? Hottest chilli on the planet. It's like being fisted by Joe Calzaghe. And Joe's still got his gloves on.’ He picks up one of the chillis. ‘Who flinches... is fucked.’ He eats. ‘You.’

The tension picks up as Johnny pushes the plate to Thomas. Grace’s fingers intertwine with Cook’s as she stands close to his side, his scent and warmth calming her slightly. Thomas grabs a handful of the chillis, lifting them all to his mouth in one go.

‘Oh, in God's name, no,’ the man on Johnny’s left speaks again.

Thomas only smiles as he chews on the chillis in his mouth, not once flinching. ‘Mmm.’ Cook is the first to smile, then everyone else follows, shocked by the French man. ‘Mm, delicious.’

‘Well done, mate,’ Cook praises.

‘Well done, Thomas.’ Effy pats him on the shoulder.

‘What?’ Johnny looks at Thomas as if he were the crazy one.

‘My mother. She grows these in our garden. We are forbidden to eat them; she will beat us if we disobey.’ Thomas shrugs, ‘but boys will be boys. And I am a very naughty boy. If I win, I pay you no money, and you leave me and my friends alone forever. You.’

Johnny reluctantly picks a handful of the chillis up, lifting them into his mouth. His face is quick to turn red, tears leaking from his eyes as sickening squelches and wet noises echo around the room.

‘What is that?’ One of the men asks.

‘He shat himself,’ the other answers.

‘Oh. Oh, my God. That... That is so humiliating. Right, come on, lads. Let's get out of here.’

‘Mate that is humming.’

‘You can't respect a man, who shits himself, can you?’ The men disperse.

The group break into laughter. Cook chuckles against Grace’s temple as he presses a soft kiss there, his hand moves to the small of her back to guide her out as the others follow.

⋆

Shortly after they found themselves in Thomas’ flat, smoking all the weed he had left over, a bottle of vodka getting passed around. He feasts on a bag of doughnuts. Grace sits on Cook’s lap as they share a joint, everyone laughing from high levels of THC. She watches as he smokes the last of it, grinning up at her and wiggling his brows.

Grabbing the butt from his hand she throws it away, pressing her lips against his firmly. One arm is wrapped around his shoulder while her other hand cups his cheek. The kiss is open-mouthed and hot, his own hands cupping her arse as he manoeuvres her from sideways to straddle him, neither caring about their audience. But to be fair, the audience doesn’t care either, all invested in their own highs.

Cook’s tongue investigates her mouth, grinning into the kiss as her fingers grip and bunch up the front of his jumper. One hand remains on her arse, squeezing periodically while the other moves up to her breast to copy, thumb flicking up over her nipple through her bra and shirt. Cook stands up, bringing her with him to find a private room. Grace trails after him while they kiss and slam into surfaces around the flat. They make their way into the hallway as she lifts his jumper over his head, throwing it onto the floor to reconnect their lips.

‘Mm, Cook…’ Grace mumbles against his lips, trying to push him off a bit.

‘Yeah, babe?’ His lips move to her neck, trailing down her skin hotly.

‘No, stop,’ she taps his shoulder. Confused, he pulls back, only to notice the problem. Thomas’ mum stands in the doorway, she speaks in French, but they can tell it’s laced with venom. Grace crouches down to pick up Cook’s jumper, handing it to him to throw on. ‘Come on,’ she grabs his hand, pulling him to the exit. She gently places a hand on Thomas’ shoulder as they pass, a silent gesture of goodwill.

⋆

Grace and Cook enter her home, only to be greeted with a mess in the hallway and living room. There’s clothes, blankets, bottles spread all over the floor and on each surface. A smashed glass on the carpet and mark on the wall, where she can only assume it was thrown at. She doesn’t meet Cook’s gaze, but she can feel his eyes burning holes in her back as she walks into the living room. Her mum is sprawled on the couch amongst the mess.

Grace doesn’t make a sound as she starts picking up the empty bottles, grabbing a bin bag to put them into. As she crouches to start picking up the broken glass, her shoulders bounce with the weight of her sobs. Cook grabs the bag from her hands, leaving it beside the glass as he tugs her up into him.

‘Shh,’ he mumbles into her hair, rocking her side to side. ‘C’mon now, Gracie. You’re alright.’

Cook gently gathers her in his arms, carrying her up the stairs and into her room. He lays her down on her bed, wiping her hair out of her face. He presses a kiss to her forehead before moving back downstairs. Grace wonders what he’s doing among the swirling thoughts of her mother, she sniffles, hearing the noises of clinking glass and a rustling bag. It makes her cry even more, how gentle Cook was, knowing he’s downstairs picking up the broken glass. And she thinks that maybe, just maybe he does care about her on a level deeper than her surface.

When he comes back upstairs, her face is red and blotchy, mascara smudged on her cheeks. Cook enters her ensuite, wetting a flannel with lukewarm water. He sits beside her on her bed, gently wiping her face as she looks up at him with wide, glassy eyes. And within his own she can almost see a sense of understanding, empathy.

After cleaning off her face and putting the flannel aside, he gathers her back up in his arms again, kissing the top of her head, nuzzling his nose into her hair. Grace curls into him, hands gripping his jumper. She leans up to kiss him, full of yearning for affections, love, care that she never gets. She climbs onto his lap, hands cupping his face as she kisses him deeply. Grace’s hips rock down on his, she can immediately feel him stirring beneath her, but he grabs her hands off his face, pulling back from her kiss. Her lips chase and he gives her another peck before cupping her face, forehead against hers.

‘Not tonight, girl, not tonight.’ He mumbles; his lips are soft on the corner of hers. Cook gets up, lifting her off him, he moves to pull back the covers on her bed. Taking off his jumper and jeans, leaving himself in just his pants, he climbs in, arms open. ‘C’mon.’

Grace crawls up the bed, climbing under the covers and shifting into his arms. Cook presses another kiss to her lips and then forehead before his chin finds purchase on top of her head. She fits against him like a puzzle piece, head buried beneath his chin as her arms come up, one circling around his waist while the other rests against his abdomen, tracing the lines of his cross tattoo. His hand strokes gently over her hair as he holds her, both falling quickly to sleep. The adrenaline of the day, between Johnny White and the weed, wearing off.

⋆

[ragingcrier]

currently knocked out with covid

[ragingcrier]

inconsequential, slightly unsentimental | eight.

⋆

Grace had been ignoring Cook for a week now, choosing instead to hang out with Effy, sometimes Katie or Emily at College. Her and Katie were at lunch now; she wasn’t too bad apart from the raging homophobia. Cook had shown up to her house twice, knocking at her door, throwing stones at her window, but for once she hadn’t given in. He’d tried texting her, but she didn’t respond. Now he sits across the common room, watching her as JJ talks his ear off about something.

Freddie had told her Cook took JJ to a brothel the night of his birthday after they’d all left. She hated herself for having even a small bit of hope when he’d told her that he would “prove” himself. He also told her that Cook had shown up to his shed the next morning in a bit of a state, good, it’s what he deserves. Grace watches as he stands up with JJ, making his way over to her and Katie. She looks down at her food, it’s suddenly very interesting.

‘Mind if we sit here, ladies?’

‘Yes,’ Katie spits, Cook ignores her and sits anyway. Bless her, she’d approached Grace first at the start of the week, telling her how not cool Cook had been to do that on his birthday. Grace sighs, having another bite of food.

‘I came over last night,’ Cook slumps back in his chair, looking at Grace even as she ignores him. She makes brief eye contact as if to say, “I fucking know,” before looking back down at her lunch. ‘Still didn’t want to answer?’

She ignores him.

‘You can’t ignore me forever.’

Yes, I can.

‘I’m sorry, okay?’ He raises his voice, leaning forwards in his chair. ‘How many times you gonna make me say it, huh?’ Cook brings his head down to try and make eye contact, but she refuses. ‘I’m fucking sorry.’

‘If you were sorry, you wouldn’t have gone to a fucking brothel.’ Grace stands up, grabbing the empty container that once had her lunch. ‘What? Didn’t think I’d find out? Do you get it yet, James?’

Cook looks up at her as she stands up, his expression an amusing mix of being offended and shock.

‘You never think I’ll find out. Let me dumb it down for you,’ she leans over and into his face. ‘If we were to be anything, you’d still think I wouldn’t find out. You get it now?’

‘Well, if I had you I wouldn’t be going to a fucking brothel would I?’

‘No but you’d still go to anything with a hole that looks your way. Anything to get your dick wet.’

‘Why do you think I’m so fucking shit?’

‘Because you keep giving me reasons to,’ Grace snaps firmly. She steps back now, walking out of the room before she punched him. But Cook isn’t having it this time, he jumps out of his seat, following her into the College hallways. His hand grabs hold of her wrist, pulling her around. ‘Let go.’

‘Nah,’ he moves his hand so that it’s holding hers. Cook starts pulling Grace towards the exit, out into the Bristol air.

‘Cook, let me go.’

‘Nope, nada, can’t do.’

‘What are you doing?’ She tugs back on his hand, making him stop walking.

‘What does it look like I’m doing?’ He asks confused. ‘I’m fixing this.’

‘You’re kidnapping me from College.’

‘Fuck Grace, what do you want me to tell you?’ Cook lets go of her hand. ‘That I imagined it was you? That it was your name coming out my mouth while I got off? Cause it was.’

‘Why would I want you to tell me that?’ She questions exasperatedly. ‘What I want is for you to not think with your dick for once. To not think about sex and planning your next shag. How about you take an interest in the things I like? Take me out to a fucking dinner? How about don’t fuck off and get your dick wet every time we fight or something goes wrong!’

‘You’ve been ignoring me for a fucking week, you won’t let me do that.’

‘I gave you a chance, you blew it.’

‘So, give me another one,’ Cook steps up into her space, staring down into her eyes. Her body tingles from his close proximity, the scent of him clouds her judgement. ‘One more, and if I fuck it up, I’ll leave you alone.’

‘Don’t say that, cause you will fuck it up and I don’t want you to leave me alone.’

‘Princess, I don’t think I ever could leave you alone,’ he leans his forehead against hers. ‘You’re addicting.’

Grace closes her eyes, trying to ignore his presence, but his scent, his warmth, it invades her space. She tries to be rational, but he’s so compelling. Addictive in his own right.

‘One more chance…’

‘And then you’ll ask for another,’ she whispers, their lips only centimetres apart.

‘I won’t need another.’

‘Yes, you will.’

Cook closes the distance, pressing his lips against hers with a softness so unlike him. He doesn’t try to shove his tongue in her mouth or grope at her breasts, no, he just kisses her soft and slow, hands cupping her cheeks like she were a porcelain doll.

‘So, I’ll beg,’ he mumbles against her lips. ‘I’ll get on my fucking knees and I’ll beg.’

‘If I find out that you—’ she doesn’t finish her sentence, she doesn’t have to. ‘I’ll bury you. I’ll fucking destroy you.’

‘Oh, I know,’ he grins. ‘My little arsonist.’

Grace’s hands settle over his chest, she sucks her bottom lip into her mouth as she thinks, something she knows that she will perhaps regret, she voices it, ‘don’t make me regret this…’

‘Let’s skip? It’s only Kieran, I don’t think he’ll give a fuck.’ Cook’s hands still cup her cheeks so softly.

‘And…?’

‘You’re couch is pretty comfy, and I saw your cupboard of DVDs, and I have a fresh bag of blow…’

Grace can’t help it, he’s so terrible for her but beautifully so. Perhaps they’re both so destroyed that they’ll end up fixing one another. She grins up at him, her hand intertwining with his and she’s pulling him home.

⋆

A week later, Grace accepts Effy’s request to help a man she knows sell a bunch of weed. She notices Freddie, Cook, and JJ already there when she arrives with the other girls, plus Thomas, who they’re supposedly helping.

‘Girls! We were just discussing breasts and there you were,’ Grace rolls her eyes at Cook’s irreverent humour. He chuckles as he immediately moves over to her, his hands coming to her waist as he kisses her forehead. She can feel the heat in her cheeks as she looks into his blue eyes. ‘Hello, gorgeous. Ready for a good time?’

Katie calls him a tosser, but there’s not much venom in her tone as she finds his behaviour amusing sometimes.

‘This is the guy you're gonna help out tonight,’ Effy informs.

‘So glad,’ Thomas shakes Freddie's hand.

‘Thomas has gotta get 300 quid by tomorrow, otherwise Johnny White's gonna make him eat...’ Pandora is cut off by Freddie.

‘Johnny White?’

‘He's got 13 ounces of weed in the bag.’

‘If you'd help, I could give you much. It's excellent weed,’ Thomas holds up the plastic bag. Their attention is snatched up when Naomi approaches with a cheerful “hi!’

‘Oh Christ, not again,’ Katie scoffs. ‘Who phoned her?’

‘Please, Katie. Don't,’ Emily says.

‘Hi, sorry. I couldn't find a bus. You said somebody needed a hand?’

‘You like giving hand. Don't you?’

‘See you,’ Naomi turns around to leave.

‘For fuck's sake! She didn't kiss me, okay!’ Emily finally snaps at her sister.

‘She practically jumped you.’

‘I kissed her! I was drunk, and someone gave me MDMA, and... I felt like fucking kissing someone! Satisfied?’

Cook breaks out into a laugh, ‘I’m satisfied, yeah. Be better if you showed us,’ he points between Emily and Naomi.

Grace elbows him in the side and he groans, rubbing the sore spot.

‘Shut the fuck up, Cook. You promised me a party. Where is it?’

‘Can't you feel it, kids?’ He asks, nobody responds. Grace stands there with a smirk, her and Cook had frequented this place during the summer. ‘It's the sound of the underground. Come on, you suckers. Let's go.’ He pulls the manhole cover away to reveal a party beneath the ground. He climbs down the ladder first, his hands moving to Grace’s waist as she climbs down after him. ‘Nice knickers, princess.’

‘Don’t make me ignore you again.’

‘Wouldn’t dream of it.’

‘Good boy,’ she pats his cheek, leaving him stunned before grabbing some of the weed out of Thomas’ bag to go and sell.

She sold it all pretty quickly, most of them did, not surprising considering the place they were in. Now they were all dancing at the front of the crowd, Cook was jumping around with her, not a care in the world. They noticed Thomas up on the stage, Cook let out a loud ‘fuck yeah!’ Pointing at the French man rapping on stage, he pulls JJ into a headlock, going crazy as Thomas finishes his rap. Grace laughs and smiles at him as he lifts Pandora up on his shoulder to see more of Thomas. He was secretly a sweet person, he had a large heart, she knew this, she just wished he’d show it more.

By the time they exit the underground, it was daylight. Cook was counting up the money, ’85, 95, That's it. £295. There you go, fella. Should be plenty,’ he hands it over to Thomas.

‘Look after that, yeah?’ Naomi says.

‘Well done, Thomas,’ JJ adds.

‘This is... You are good people. This is everything I have dreamed of and... Now you are my friends, too,’ Thomas’ voice is overshadowed by the sound of screeching cars.

‘Fucking… oh shit,’ Cook mumbles. Johnny White and his gang had just climbed out of the cars.

Grace turns to look at Cook, noting his reaction. ‘The fuck did you do?’

⋆

[ragingcrier]

new chap tomorrow for inconsequential, slightly unsentimental 🫶🏻

[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.