Read Online Asking for It by Louise O'Neill - Free Book Online

help Ali, but she’s managed to make it across.
    ‘Oh, Ali,’ I say, pointing at her feet. ‘Your shoes.’
    ‘It doesn’t matter,’ Ali says, bending down to wipe the dirt off them.
    They probably cost five hundred euros, and it doesn’t matter that they’re ruined after one wear. I smile tightly at her.
    Outside the back door there’s a small outhouse, overalls hanging off hooks on the concrete wall, a row of mucky wellies lined up underneath. We open the back door and walk into a poky kitchen. The door to the living room is closed, as is the window, and the small room is foggy with sweet-smelling smoke.
    ‘Shit.’ Maggie coughs, waving her hand in front of her face as she drags Eli into the living room, the others following.
    ‘For fuck’s sake.’ A pallid-faced guy whose name I can never remember steps in front of me to shut the door behind them.
    ‘Blowback?’ He (Oisin? Eddie?) asks, waving a joint at me.
    I nod and he turns the joint around in his mouth and carefully places it between his lips, waiting until I come closer, opening my mouth to suck in the smoke. I hold it in for a few seconds, then breathe it out, clouds rushing through my brain as I try not to cough.
    In the living room, the main lights are switched off, a couple of small lamps on, some boys gathered around an iPod docking station hooked up to a boom box. They seem to be arguing with a stumbling girl, their mouths moving, but I can’t hear them over the music. All the furniture has been pushed out to the edges of the room, and there are couples on the chairs and a large three-seater sofa, grinding up on each other. Three girls in tight bandage dresses are in the empty space in the middle, their arms flailing as they dance. Fitzy, Ali, Jamie, Maggie and Eli are standing by a table covered in a hand-crocheted tablecloth, now destroyed with beer stains and fag burns. Maggie is pouring what’s left in the 7 Up bottle into chipped enamel mugs, Eli passing cans of beer to Fitzy and Conor.
    ‘Emmie, do you want a—’ Conor starts, but the door to the hall crashes open, hitting him on the back.
    ‘Shit, sorry, man,’ Dylan says, giving him a punch on the shoulder. ‘I didn’t know you were there.’ Then he sees her and his face lights up. ‘Hey, Jamie, how are you?’ He sidles up to her. Her fingers tighten around the enamel mug and she gulps her drink back, staring away from him.
    ‘Jamie,’ he tries again. ‘Did you hear me? How are things?’
    ‘Dylan.’ It’s Julie Clancy, Sarah Swallows hovering behind her. She’s wearing heavy eyeliner, multiple piercings in her ears, nose and eyebrow. ‘What are you doing?’
    ‘Nothing,’ he replies, stepping away from Jamie. ‘Just talking.’
    ‘To that slut?’ Julie squares up to her, prodding Jamie’s collarbone with her finger. ‘What is your problem? It’s not enough that you fucked my boyfriend once – now you want to do it again?’
    ‘Jules,’ Dylan warns her. ‘Come on, be cool. I said—’
    ‘As if I would sleep with him. As if ,’ Jamie says.
    ‘Oh, please.’ Dylan narrows his eyes at her. ‘You loved it.’
    Eli laughs, shutting up when Maggie glares at him. Julie swallows a sob and rushes across the room, falling to her knees to search under an armchair, ignoring the yelps of protest from the couple she’s disturbing. Unearthing her bag and coat, she runs through the door to the kitchen, Sarah Swallows calling after her, the two of them engulfed by smoke before the door closes again.
    ‘Dylan, come on,’ Conor says. ‘How is she going to get home?’
    ‘She has her car.’
    ‘She can’t drive – you saw the state she was in.’
    Dylan looks like he might go after her, then he just shrugs. ‘Whatever. It’s not my problem.’
    Ali wraps an arm around Jamie’s waist, squeezing it, whispering into her ear. (I need to get away from this. From her.)
    In the hall there is a small wooden table and chair, a plug-in house phone, notepad and pen, and