The Sound Read Online Free PDF

moving, his hand still pressed to my back, steering me towards the growing beat of
music.
    As we get closer I can see the flames of the fire licking high into the sky. It’s about the size of bonfire we’d normally have for Guy Fawkes Night back home. Someone has driven
their truck down onto the beach, parked it up close to the fire and is blasting the music through the speaker system. In front of the fire I can see literally dozens of bodies jumping around and
dancing. Most of them seem to have their tops off – the boys at least – and the girls are nearly all wearing bikinis. I feel overdressed in my shirt and shorts, like I’m wearing a
burqa by comparison.
    Jeremy seems to notice my reticence because he asks if I’m OK.
    I nod and try to smile. At which point a shape comes bounding out of the shadows to my right and nearly knocks me off my feet.
    ‘Jeremy!’ it yells.
    Jeremy puts his hand on the guy’s shoulder and holds him steady and at a distance.
    ‘Hey, Parker,’ he says.
    ‘Dude,’ Parker yells over the pounding beat of the (depressingly mainstream) rap music that’s started playing. ‘Where you been?’ It’s then he seems to notice
me for the first time. He blinks, trying to focus. ‘And who is this fine piece of—’ he starts to say before Jeremy cuts him off by clamping his hand down on his arm.
    ‘This is Ren,’ he says, introducing me.
    ‘Hello, Ren,’ the boy slurs, swaying dangerously in my direction.
    ‘Hi,’ I say, ready to leap out of the way in case he either a) falls on me or b) does a Braiden.
    ‘Do you guys want a beer?’ he asks, pulling his arm free from Jeremy’s hold. ‘We’re doing chasers,’ he tells us. ‘Wait up yo,’ he shouts and runs
off into the crowd.
    Jeremy turns to me. ‘Sorry,’ he says.
    ‘No worries,’ I answer, glancing around. Couples are lying sprawled in the sand, some are making out as though they’re in a motel room with a locked door and a vibrating bed
beneath them and not in actual fact lying in full view of several dozen people, but no one seems to be taking much notice and aside from the location it’s not that different from parties in
London. From the dunes comes the sound of shouting and wild laughter but when I try to peer into the darkness I can’t see anything beyond a few leaping shadows. Jeremy leads me to a quieter
space, away from the making out couples, close enough to the fire that I can see his face and we can catch the warmth of the flames, but far enough from the music that we can actually hear
ourselves think.
    Half a minute later Parker returns clutching two sweating bottles of beer. Tucked under his arm is another bottle, which he pulls out once he’s handed us the beers. ‘Da-daaa,’
he says, displaying it right in front of our faces. ‘Tequila?’ he asks, twisting off the cap. ‘Shot, Ren?’
    ‘No thanks,’ I say. Tequila and I have a bad history. We’re no longer on speaking terms. In fact tequila is the reason I’m now not much of a drinker.
    He glugs several shots’ worth down before throwing his head back and baying to the moon.
    ‘Jeremy?’ he asks, thrusting the bottle in Jeremy’s face, sloshing half the contents over the sand.
    Jeremy just shakes his head. ‘No, bro, designated driver,’ he says, pointing his thumb at his chest.
    ‘Man, what’s one drink?’ Parker asks.
    Jeremy shakes his head.
    ‘Well OK, dude.’ Parker winks at him, makes a gesture with his hand that undoubtedly has something to do with me and which makes me look quickly away and study the sand between my
toes.
    I hear Jeremy telling Parker something softly under his breath and my cheeks and ears start to burn, though I tell myself it’s just the heat from the flames, that’s all and nothing
more. I scan the crowd, my eyes drawn to the other side of the fire where a group of girls is dancing as though they’re on tryout for a lap-dancing club. I spot Eliza in the middle of them,
arms waving above