Asking for It by Louise O'Neill Page A

tonight?’
    ‘Yeah, should be fun.’
    ‘Tell Sean he’d better have the place cleaned up when I get home. I’m not doing it for him.’ I nod. ‘I love your dress, by the way,’ she says. ‘Zara, right?’
    ‘Yeah,’ I say, smirking at Bryan. ‘On sale. Fifteen euro.’
    ‘Ah, feck it, I bought the same one for full price months ago.’ She turns to Bryan. ‘Remember? I wore it for your birthday party? You loved it.’
    I try not to laugh. ‘OK, I’ll let ye at it.’
    The kitchen is empty when I return. The sliding door is wide open, tiny black midges buzzing around the recessed light bulbs in the ceiling, like constellations of black stars. I pour myself another drink from the pitcher, throwing it back, and refill the cup again before grabbing Precious from the counter, wiping away the dusting of ginger hairs she’s left, and follow the rest of them outside.
    Maggie is doing somersaults on the trampoline to show off her years of gymnastic training. Ali is bouncing half-heartedly beside her, her hands holding the hem of her skirt down. Jamie is standing at the edge, watching them, draining what’s left in her red cup. She should take it easy. She should know what happens when you drink too much.
    ‘That is seriously cool.’ Conor claps Fitzy on the back, Eli raising a can of beer to him. The three of them are sitting on the garden chairs, the case of beer open on the table.
    ‘What’s cool?’ I say.
    Conor sits up straight. ‘Ethan got accepted into the Rhode Island School of Design.’
    ‘It’s one of the most prestigious art colleges in the States,’ Eli says when I look confused. ‘It’s a huge deal.’
    ‘That’s amazing, Fitzy,’ I say, but he doesn’t look up from his phone. There’s an awkward pause.
    ‘Who was at the door?’ Conor asks.
    ‘Jen Casey. She and Bryan are watching a movie.’
    ‘Bryan’s home?’ Conor grins. ‘Are they in the living room or the TV room?’
    ‘TV room,’ I say.
    ‘Fitz, you coming to say hello?’
    He looks up from his phone. ‘What?’
    ‘You coming to say hello? Bryan’s here.’
    ‘Yeah, cool,’ Fitzy says. ‘You know I’m always happy to see Bryan.’
    I smile at him, as if that didn’t hurt. Leaving my phone and cup on the table next to the beer, warning Eli to be careful of it, I heave myself on to the trampoline with the girls. We jump and jump, higher and higher, until I want to reach into the inky black sky and swallow the stars.
    ‘J, wait,’ Ali calls after her as Jamie walks into the kitchen. ‘I’d better go after her, check if she’s OK.’ She gets down from the trampoline, yanking her dress down her thighs. I turn to Maggie, reaching my hands out to her instead, but she points at my chest. I look down, and the top of my dress has fallen out of place, exposing my boobs. I laugh, expecting her to join in, but she’s staring at Eli. She picks up her red cup on her way back into the kitchen and throws whatever is left in it down her throat, ignoring Eli’s protests that he ‘wasn’t looking, not really’.
    Was Eli looking? (I want him to have been looking.)
    I lie on the trampoline, staring up at the sky. I visited my aunt Beth in London last summer, and at night-time we sat in the tiny honeysuckled garden of her Hammersmith townhouse, eating salads that she had picked up at Whole Foods Market, drinking glasses of Pimms, and all I could think about was that you couldn’t see the stars, blurred behind smog clouds and the glare of city lights. You can have all of this , Beth told me. It’ll be easy for you, with the way you look. And you can hold a conversation too, which always helps. The world is your oyster, Emmie. But you need to leave Ballinatoom, you need to get out of there like I did. Is that really all you want for your life? London. The echoing bang-bang as her neighbours stomped up their wooden staircases, the heat rising from the concrete, the sweat-stained armpits on the tube, the grubby beggar who