Chapter One: Soiled Dove

"That's all there is

Nothing more than you can feel now

That's all there is..."

-'World In My Eyes', Depeche Mode.

'IN WHICH WE MEET A RATHER JADED INNOCENT FOOL AT THE TACKY SCHOOL DISCO OF YOUR DREAMS...'

He had been sitting in the bathtub for so long now that Twinkle's hands had begun to resemble fruits which had been sucked dry of all of their juice. He didn't much like it when his fingers got all puckered and like prunes when taking a bath, but he couldn't bring himself to get out. Not just yet. He still wasn't clean. No matter how much water, how much soap, how many times he had exfoiliated- the stench of his guilt still remained all over his skin, and it made him feel sick to his stomach.

The night before had been a mistake.

'Fourteen is too young to have lost your virginity...' his conscience reminded him, in it's ever-condescending tone. 'Are you even going to go out with her? Do you even know what she is like? What's her name? Do you remember that?'

"Heather!" Twinkle whined to himself, "Heather. Her name was Heather." He bit his bottom lip and reached once again for his soap and sponge, violently rubbing the soap all over the sponge until it had nearly broken in his hand. He washed himself again, covering his upper-torso in sickly sweet-smelling orange soap, and furrowed his brow as the images once again played back to him in his head.

SUMMER DISCO! THIS FRIDAY, DOORS 7.30! BRING A FRIEND! TICKETS ONLY £2!

The posters had been everywhere. The enormous black letters and cheesy clip-art of a stick figure dancing stood out tremendously on the dayglow green, orange, pink and yellow flyers which had been pinned up all around Swiftoak Secondary School. Normally, such an event would not have interested Twinkle, as social gatherings, giggling teenage girls and chart music usually made him back away in repulsion, but, on a whim of boredom and very slight curiousity, he gave one of the organisers two quid and kept his ticket hidden away in the depths of his schoolbag.

The day of the disco, a Friday, Twinkle found himself only just about looking forward to it during a rather uninteresting lesson. As his teacher prattled on about the different parts of insects and flowers in Biology, he daydreamed about how he wanted the disco to be.

In his version, everybody was nice to him and pretty girls asked him to dance to each and every song. They giggled through 'Prince Charming' by Adam and the Ants, while mimicking the actions in the video to perfection, and slowdanced to 'True' by Spandau Ballet, a song he secretly loved, but would never let on to. When the girls had become tired or bored, the handsome well-dressed boys would come up and talk to Twinkle, and they would dance around him and, every once or twice, they would accidently brush their hand against his, and he would feel funny inside and blush.

He found himself red in the face while thinking about his dream disco, and decided to stop his childish fantasies when he noticed that the teacher kept giving him the evil eye. He knew she would give him extra homework assignments, just to get at him and ruin his first and only school disco.

During his walk home, Twinkle listened to a CD on his walkman. He loved his walkman. Whether he was on the bus or, like that day, just walking home, his walkman had to be with him. A day without him listening to music before he went to school and on his way home from school was like a day without sun to him. His music was very important, and helped him through the days. He often found himself to be slightly lonely or troubled due to hassle at school because of his often eccentric actions or opinions.

Twinkle lived at home with his mother. She had raised him alone since he was five, that being the age she kicked Twinkle's father out of their home. His father, an ex-soldier from Zaraysk, in Russia, had never been around much, and the times that he had been there were less than pleasant. Emelyn had no worries about raising her son alone. She loved him very dearly and, as he was an only child, had spoiled him when he was younger, and, without meaning to, mollycoddled him slightly into being the sensitive and shy young man he was. When he was a child, she would take him to the park or to the beach, and kept a close eye on him when he would toddle off to play with other children or go on the swings and slides. When he was a child, Twinkle delighted in watching his mother bake cakes in her spare time, and he loved 'helping' her make them by putting the decorations on the top, or licking the spoon.

"Hi Mum, I'm home!" Twinkle called as he got home, slamming the door behind him, cringing a little when he remembered how much his mother loathed when he did that. The familiar click-clacking sound of claws skittering across the floor was heard as Snazzy, Twinkle's pet poodle, ran into the hallway to greet him. She barked and danced in front of him happily, yelping and squeaking until he finally gave in and gave her a pat on the head.

"I'm in the kitchen, dear," Emelyn called, "I'm making pasta...do you want some for your tea?"

Twinkle smiled.

"Yeah!" He said with a grin, while hanging up his coat, "But you'll have to be quick, I'm going to the school disco tonight!"

Emelyn nearly dropped the saucepan she was holding.
"You're going to the school disco?" She laughed, "Darling, I thought you hated those things!"

"I kinda do," Twinkle shrugged, walking into the kitchen, hit with the delicious smell of mushroom sauce from the pasta, "But I mean...it's something, yeah? Saves bein' bored all the time."

"Well, if you want, I can't stop you, love," Emelyn smiled, then added, with a smirk, "Let me guess...there is going to be some girl at the disco?"

Twinkle felt his face turn red.

"No, no girl! Well...of course there will be some girls, but, but, but..." He stumbled on his words and fell into a chair, pouting, "Shut up, Mum..."

Emelyn chuckled as she poured a helping of pasta into a bowl, then placed it in front of Twinkle.

"Eat up, Casanova," She grinned. Twinkle blushed again and whined while shoving a forkful of little mushroom tainted ribbons into his mouth, feeling funny inside from both mild excitement and nerves.

As advertised, the school doors opened up again at 7.30, underneath a large flourescent yellow banner which read "SCHOOL DISCO HERE!", which Twinkle found slightly amusing.

"Where else would it be?" He thought to himself, chuckling.

"Hey!" A voice called as Twinkle wandered through the doors. He turned to see a smaller man half-running up the pathway to meet him, though truth be told, compared to Twinkle, most people were "smaller". He was unusually tall for his age, having had a surprise growth spurt at 13, and stood at an impressive 6ft 4, the height he would remain at from then on.

"Hi Matt," Twinkle smiled, looking at the stocky blonde in front of him. Matt was in his English class. Although Twinkle didn't have many friends, due to his shyness making him appear almost snobbish, those who did talk to him were close enough, as he was polite to people who were, in his words, "not complete dickheads". Matt was into football and cars, and although these were two factors which were on the list of things which made people "complete dickheads" in Twinkle's book, he was alright. He wasn't the sort of football fan that, being a shy bisexual male, Twinkle found intimidating, although, he was tired of hearing "THREE-EE NIL...THREE-EE NIL!" and the like every English lesson.

"Didn't think you would show up, Kermit," Matt laughed, "Didn't think this was your thing, mate."

Twinkle laughed, although a little bit annoyed that Matt had referred to him as 'Kermit'. He was getting used to silly nicknames. It was his own fault after all. Being a typical experimental teenager, Twinkle often played with hairdye, and currently, his hair was chin-length and bright green in colour. He didn't really like how it looked green, and he was waiting for it to wash out again. The box said 'comes out in 6-8 washes', but he was used to being lied to by consumer products, and was getting slightly worried.

"Thought I'd give it a go, y'know," Twinkle shrugged, then added, quietly, with a blush, "Kinda hopin' there'll be someone nice there too..."

"Ohhh?" Matt grinned, "Well, school's full of fit birds...take your pick!"

"I guess," Twinkle said, reluctantly. Although he was bisexual, and would not deny it if asked, he wasn't that open about it. He was open in moderation, and did feel the need to come out via a set poetry assignment in English once entitled 'My Life in Words', but had a feeling people had ignored that and listened only to the part about him living in a very large Victorian house his father had spent a great wad of cash on owning, only to have himself thrown out of it just four years after moving in.

"Better get in there then, dude," Matt smirked, wandering through the corridors beside Twinkle, "Cause I have plans for tonight, I'm tellin' ya. Y'know Sophie? Legs Sophie? I want to do her."

"Mm," Twinkle nodded, not really listening, more interested in the fact that he could already hear Blur's 'Parklife' blasting from the school's assembly hall. Although he had hoped for his dream to come true and for the DJ to be playing some Cure, Depeche Mode or Banshees right about now, he didn't mind that song, and it would just have to do.

The design committee of the school had really splashed out this year. Big, brightly coloured balloons hung from the ceiling, as well as shrivelled up ones which were tangled around the beams and sticking to the lights. The lights themselves changed from green to pink to blue to orange to purple to red to green again. They tried to follow the beat of the music, but, as it was a tacky school disco after all, didn't quite make it. As well as the balloons and the lights, there was a massive space in the middle of the floor, where the chairs and makeshift stage in the assembly hall had been moved out of the way so that the pupils could actually dance at the disco. At the side of the room, up against the wall, were three long desks placed together one after the other, with paper tablecloths over each of them, as a shoddy buffet area. There was the ever-present collection of paper cups and bottles of orange squash which seemed to always appear at school functions or events, and also bowls full of crisps and dips.

Twinkle's first move when he got into the hall was to saunter over to the buffet table and pretend like he wasn't there. He poured himself some orange juice and took a handful of crisps. He grimaced when he popped them into his mouth, only to discover that they were all ready salted flavour, and not even good ready salted flavour at that.

"They never have any interesting crisps!" He thought, despite taking another handful.

Dotted around the slapdash dancefloor were the pupils; the girls dressed in their usual trend togs, the boys dressed smart, but casual. Twinkle felt a little out of place.

Although he despised the way people would refer to him as a goth or a punk, he did understand the reasons why. While most people in the school were wearing their designer clothes and showing off their expensive jewellery, Twinkle stood out in his striped black and white t-shirt, which was looking slightly moth-eaten, his slightly baggy black jeans, and no-brand trainers.

He wasn't into fashion much, and although he didn't get much money from his Saturday job working at the newsagents down the road from his school, the wages he did get, he spent on the more important things, like cds, tapes and records, old music videos, and weird art books. A self-confessed shopaholic, and an avid collector of old vinyl records, Twinkle knew that it was really best that he spent his spare cash on looking comfortably scruffy in clothes he had bought from charity shops.

He never actually told anybody at school where he shopped, as he knew how cruel they could be. The fourteen-year-old fashionistas of Swiftoak School could be very spiteful indeed, and Twinkle just hated confrontations.

An orange squash and three dodgy pop songs later, and Twinkle was already getting bored. Not once had he dared to start dancing, as dancing on your own is "a little bit sad", and besides...he was not getting caught wiggling his hips to 'Agadoo', which, for some unknown reason, always got played at your typical school-organised bash.

Twinkle decided to do what he always did, and merely observe. He watched the giggling teenage girls in their little groups, wondering what they were planning. He felt wary around young teenage girls. The way they mingled in large groups bothered him. Maybe it was just a little self-centred of Twinkle to believe that they were plotting against him, but, as he was the 'quiet and weird one' of the year, he was probably right.

He laughed a little as he saw Matt dancing around Legs Sophie and her friends.

"Legs" Sophie, as one might imagine, was gorgeous. She was a tall brown-eyed brunette with a face like a painting and the body of a supermodel. Slim, yet curvy in all the right places, with the most graceful, perfect long legs. However, she wasn't really that interesting. She knew very little when it came to the token things that teenagers were supposed to in life, and was devoted to her schoolwork. She knew mathematics, chemistry and physics, and if asked what the number one song was in the charts that week, she would look at you with a blank expression, then get back to seeing what happens if you put sodium in water.

Although most thought Legs Sophie was boring for her intelligence, Twinkle had respect for her. He figured that anybody who didn't pay attention to the modern charts and "all of that pop rubbish" couldn't be all that bad, and besides, he kind of had a thing for her as well.

However, as fate would have it, Legs Sophie would not end up with either Matt or Twinkle, but rather go home alone to watch that night's episode of 'Coronation Street', which her dad had taped for her, and Twinkle himself would get more than he bargained for.

The night dragged on slowly for Twinkle, like the last lesson on a Friday afternoon before the weekend, although he had burst into a fit of laughter when he watched Matt, ever the lady's man, try to charm Legs Sophie by dancing around her to 'Whatta Man' by Salt-n-Pepa, only to trip over his shoelace and fall on his backside. Twinkle's laughter was silenced by Matt's shout of "tosser!", which resulted in him getting a warning from one of the teachers who was a chaperone at the disco. Sophie couldn't help but giggle at Matt's misfortune as well, and in a moment of clarity, gazed over at Twinkle to give him a shy smile. He blushed and smiled back sheepishly, wondering why he felt funny inside. He didn't even fancy Sophie...did he?

No time to find out. In the opposite corner of the room, slumped in a chair, was a figure who had kept her viciously painted eyes upon Twinkle all night. She was a slightly overweight blonde, wearing a long black dress, and lace gloves. She wore boots with metal on the soles, and purple and white striped socks, which kept falling down and gathering at her ankles. She was in no classes with Twinkle, but so many brushes up against him in the hallways, or stolen glances during assemblies made her sure that she wanted him, and she was going to get him. Tonight.

A few hours into the evening, it occured to Twinkle that the DJ was taking requests. On a whim, he wandered over to the DJ's booth, leaned over and asked for a Depeche Mode track.

"What?" The DJ shouted, unable to hear himself speak over OMD's 'Tesla Girls'.

"Depeche Mode?" Twinkle shouted back, feeling his face become flushed. "If you've got any!"

The DJ looked around for a moment, then nodded. Twinkle wandered back over to the buffet table. He wasn't going to eat or drink anything, but it was where he had been all through the night, he might as well go back there.

Soon, Twinkle heard the catchy intro to Depeche Mode's "number one hit", as the DJ so eloquently put it, and he couldn't help but roll his eyes a little. He knew it would be that song. He didn't dislike the song, but he knew that anything he really wanted to hear and dance to wouldn't be played, as it wasn't "the main single that everybody knows". He wondered perhaps if he were being too uppity about his music tastes.

In the dank little corner, the hefty blonde still kept her eyes upon Twinkle. Hearing the song, she stood up and brushed down any creases in her dress. She wandered through the dancefloor, recieving more than enough dirty looks from those who dissaproved of the way she dressed, or of her in general, and began to sing along to the song, as though it were some kind of mating call.

"I just can't seem to get enough, ahhh..."

Matt noticed the girl wander by and grinned at her.

"Heeey baby," He smirked, starting to unbutton his shirt, "Get a load of this!" The girl made an expression of disgust.

"Away, little boy, you do not amuse me," Came her malicious reply, slithering unashamedly out of plump purple lips. Matt's expression fell for a moment, then re-emerged as a frown.

"Fine!" He muttered back, "Go away, y'big fat goth!"

At this, the girl rolled her eyes and pushed him out of the way gently, then headed to her desired target, who was currently standing there with a hand hovering awkwardly over the new bowl of 'Wotsits' which had just been placed down by a teacher.

"Hi handsome..."

Twinkle turned around, startled that anybody could possibly be addressing him and using the word 'handsome'. He looked at the girl with a confused expression which caused her to smirk and laugh at him.

"Yes, I do mean you," She replied, standing closer to him. Twinkle nervously blushed and mumbled something, dipping his hand into the bowl of cheesy potato chips.

After a rather awkward few seconds of silence, Twinkle watched the girl begin to wander off again. He began to eat his handful of crisps when suddenly he felt a tingle rush up his spine as he felt the distinct sensation of a hand gently brushing against, then taking a pinch out of, his bottom. Turning sharply, he saw the girl was still there. She leaned in to speak in his ear.

"The girls' toilets," She whispered. Her voice was husky and dripping with honey. Twinkle looked at her, an eyebrow raised, but he soon understood the situation when she gave him a sultry smile, a wink, and strolled off in the opposite direction.

Taking this as his cue to leave, Twinkle quickly checked around to see if anybody was looking at him, then, when he was sure that this was a completely secretive and private meeting, he wandered off after this mysterious voluptuous stranger.

"You're Sam," The blonde girl smiled, after dragging Twinkle by his shirt into a rather cramped cubicle in the girls' bathroom.

"Well, it's Samienne, but I have people call me Twinkle, I prefer that name..." Twinkle answered, quietly, shuffling his feet awkwardly out of nerves. The girl shrugged.

"Whatever. I'm Heather," She said, offering her hand for a moment, then taking it out of the way again when Twinkle tried to shake it. "You do know why you're here, correct?"

Twinkle looked uncertain.

"I...I've never done this before," He answered, feeling himself start to blush. A shining grin appeared on the girl's face.

"I know. I could tell a mile off. That's why I like you. I like new blood. I'm like...a lioness prowling through the night, sniffing for the sick, the weak and the young," Heather licked her lips, taking off a layer of purple in the process. "You understand me? Your nervousness turns me on, kid."

Twinkle felt small and scared. He frowned a little.

"I'm fourteen," Twinkle admitted, with a cringe, wondering why on earth he had just told her that.

"I know. I'm eighteen," Heather shrugged, "I'm only here 'cause I had to bring my stupid little sister. She didn't even wanna go. Our parents made us."

Suddenly, Heather didn't seem like the mysterious, debonair gothic stranger she had been before in the assembly hall.

"So, Sam," She smiled, propping herself up against the wall whilst sitting on the toilet (lid down, of course), "Do you have any protection with you?"

Twinkle's eyes nearly popped out of his head.

"Um, no, Heather...I don't," He answered. "I'm fourteen."

"Stop it, darling, you're driving me crazy," Heather replied, her tone as deadpan as ever, "No worries. I always carry some in my handbag. You know, for little emergencies such as this!" She let out a roar of laughter, to which Twinkle could only reply with a quiet, meek giggle.

Fishing through her little black handbag, Heather suddenly found what she was looking for and grinned.

"Ah! Here we are," She announced, handing Twinkle a small red packet. He took it from her and looked at it with an almost terrified expression.

"Go on," Heather urged, while unzipping her dress to reveal a sparkling black and silver bra, "I'm waiting."

Twinkle gulped and unzipped his fly. While this unexpected event was obviously exciting, he couldn't help but feel absolutely terror-stricken as well.

Was this really how he wanted his landmark 'first time' to be? Shouldn't it have been with somebody who he loved, sprawled out in glorious technicolour on a soft satin sheet, not sandwiched between Heather's bosom and the cubicle door which was in dire need of being repainted?

"I'm waiting!" Heather repeated, a little louder, causing Twinkle to flinch out of his musings.

"Okay, okay," He nodded, trying to open the condom wrapper, which seemed far too awkward for such a rushed situation like this.

"What if it wasn't my first time and I actually really wanted to do this?" Twinkle thought to himself, still struggling, "What if the person were all ready and everything and I couldn't even get the bloody wrapper open? He'd probably get impatient and wander off! Or what if it was a girl like this one and y'know, these little thingies come in useful when it's a girl, 'cause, you know...what if it didn't come off and she got tired of waiting and made me, y'know, completely naked?! That would be so scary! And another thing-"

SLAP!

The wrapper finally did open, but unfortunately, as these things are never supposed to run smoothly, Twinkle found himself being injured in the process, as the condom flew free from the little red package and straight into his eye.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!" Twinkle's whinings were just barely audible over the peels of laughter coming from Heather's large gob. "Shut up!"

Twinkle became quite defensive and less of a shrinking violet when people actually laughed at him or challenged him in some way. Heather couldn't help but find that attractive as well.

"Here," She offered, helping him with his little difficulties and pulling him close. He looked at her, one blue eye swimming in a sea of gloop. Heather took a moment to gaze at him and take in what her chosen 'prey' actually looked like. Truth be told, out there in the disco, she had only really noticed his hair...but then again, in a room full of people with decidedly ordinary hair colours, who wouldn't notice the one boy there with lime green locks?

He was awkward and lanky with sallow white skin and a few pimples here and there, dotted around his otherwise perfectly pale face. His eyes were big, bright and cobalt; the very same shade of blue which coloured the little star charm he wore on his necklace every day. His lips were plump and perfectly kissable, if a little dry from his nervousness. His nose and ears were pierced, and in each hole, there was a small silver ring. His nose was one which might be described as a "button nose", and therefore, looked rather cute when decorated with the piercing.

He couldn't help but feel thankful that his school was a fairly liberal one which allowed him all of his piercings and his different coloured hair, despite how they didn't really seem to fit in with his school uniform.

Standing in front of Heather, feeling exposed both literally and metaphorically, Twinkle blushed and giggled.

"So...?" He said, coughing quickly to clear his dry throat. He'd never been so nervous in his life.

"So what?" Heather replied, looking up at him. Her expression was harsh, but Twinkle wondered whether she was really mad at him, or whether it was just the spidery eyebrows she had painted on.

"What now?"

Back in the main hall, Matt was still trying hard to get with Legs Sophie, who kept herself to herself. Despite her nickname, she wasn't the best of dancers, and kept tripping over her awkward high-heels. Every time she did that, she tried to make out that she had done it on purpose by covering up the situation with a shrill, feigned laugh. Her friends knew exactly what was going on and joined her in laughing, although they were really laughing more at her than with her, which kind of defeated the purpose of Sophie's actions.

"Come on, Legs!" Matt grinned as Sophie stumbled over her feet for a sixth time, "What's the problem, Legs?"

Matt himself had begun to wonder why he was acting like he had chugged down an entire keg of beer before he came to the disco.

"Legs?" Sophie shouted, over the music, which seemed to have become quieter, although it was probably just mind over matter, "Why are you calling me that?"

"It's yer name, Legs!" Matt repeated, feeling his stomach quiver and knot itself up. He couldn't stop acting like an idiot now, it was as though it had been programmed into him to act like a complete arsehole every time the school had a social event, or every time he had even a tiny, microscopic chance at being with a girl. More than anything he wanted to just shut up, never, ever use the word 'legs' again, and take Sophie's hand, proclaim his undying love for her, and whisk her away to the most expensive restaurant in town and buy her the entire menu.

Sophie's expression had turned sour.

"How dare you embaress me?" She yelled, feeling her cheeks burn red and her eyes start to become puffy. She wanted more than anything for Matt to have let go of his 'funny boy' routine, button up his shirt and make himself look smart again, take her hand, proclaim his undying love for her, and whisk her away to the quaintest, most secluded restaurant in town and buy her a salad.

"What...I...that's what we all call you!" Matt quickly blurted out. He knew as soon as he said it that it was a mistake. Any other boy within earshot gave Sophie an expression which could best be described as looking similar to that of a fish when it's plucked out of water by a hook, then thrown back in. Complete and utter panic and they were sure Sophie couldn't see them, they gave Matt a very different look. The look which said "I'll smile, but you can bet your arse I'll be beating you to shit on Monday".

"That's what you all call me?" Sophie asked, swallowing back tears to keep hold of this sudden confident persona she had adopted. "All of you? You're all...crude, nasty and stupid boys!"

"Soph, I..." Matt felt terrible.

"Don't talk to me," Sophie sniffled, looking around for her friends, who had by now stopped dancing and formed a protective human barrier around her as though she would crumble as soon as she made physical contact with another human being. "I...I need to go to the bathroom."

She pushed through her friends weakly, and a few of them broke away from the herd and followed her, calling her name, her real name.

Matt stood alone in the centre of the dancefloor, feeling very strange indeed.

"There goes another one..." He thought, and continued to dance, trying to ignore the inevitable namecalling he recieved from the other pupils who had been there to witness the scene.

"I just can't believe he would do that!" Sophie whimpered, stomping her way over to the toilets, having started to cry already.

"Shh, easy, hon," One of her friends said, putting her hand on her shoulder, "To be fair, he didn't do much..."

"He said something offensive to women, to me!" Sophie cried, realising only after she had said it how strange it sounded, "I wanted to ask him to dance at the end as well..."

"Why?"

"The DJ already said he'd play Boyzone," Sophie said, with a sigh, "My favourite, too. 'Love Me For A Reason'..."

"That's a nice song..."

"Yeah, well," Sophie wiped her nose on her hand and wandered over to the girls' bathroom, pushing open the red door, followed by her friend.

"Mmmm...oh yes..." Heather's moanings could be heard from the cubicle on the far side of the room, and Sophie and her friend knew instantly that something not quite normal was happening when they could see two pairs of feet sticking out from the bottom of the cubicle. One pair wearing boots with metal heels, and the other wearing dodgy old off-white trainers.

"Oh dear," Sophie said in a whisper, nudging her friend and pointing over to the cubicle. A childlike grin appeared on her face, and her friend soon joined her in tittering quietly, staring at the door.

"Mmmmmmm, ohhh...oh shit somebody's in here!" Heather suddenly hissed in a whisper, digging her long red fingernails into the soft, warm flesh of Twinkle's back. Twinkle quickly looked up at her, his green hair rather touselled, his face red and sweating.

"Huh?"

"Somebody. Is. In. Here." Heather repeated, gritting her teeth and tightening her grip on Twinkle.

"Ow, careful!" He whimpered as quietly as he could manage.

Sophie couldn't help herself. She stopped covering her mouth and let out a great roar of laughter which made her tummy hurt, and followed it with a series of uncontrollable snorts and giggles. Her friend also couldn't control her amusement any longer and joined Sophie in laughing her head off, so much so that she had to dart into one of the cubicles before she wet herself.

"I'm warning you, whoever that is, get the fuck out of here!" Heather yelled, "Or I swear, my foot will meet your backside, you little prep bitch!"

Twinkle's eyes widened and he kept himself well hidden, having pulled his feet up from under the gap in the doorway and pressed himself against Heather, even though now, he was finding it rather difficult to breathe.

Sophie stopped laughing and bit her bottom lip.

"Holly!" She called for her friend, "Holly, we have to go now!" The friend re-emerged from the cubicle and washed her hands, grinning uncontrollably just so she wouldn't break down and start laughing again. Upon her turning on the handdryer, Twinkle took this as an opportunity to speak.

"Who is it? I could hear people talking, did you really mean you'd beat her up? Don't cause trouble, Heather, please-"

The dryer stopped upon 'please', and Twinkle cringed, hoping whoever was out there hadn't recognised his voice.

Heather glared at him to be quiet, and they both sat still and in perfect silence for a moment until the sound of heels clattering out of the room and shutting the door behind them let them know they were alone again.

Twinkle felt himself being pushed violently out of the door by a heavy hand.

"What the hell, I-"

"Well that was embaressing!" Heather announced, adjusting her bra-strap and stumbling over to the mirrors to check her make-up and hair.

Twinkle stood there confused.

"I...what's going on now, then?" He asked.

"Hmm?" Heather replied, wiping away some mascara from underneath her eye. Twinkle laughed a little, nervously.

"What's going on with us?" He asked again, "I mean, are we boyfriend and girlfriend now, or what?"

Heather looked at him, wrinkling up her nose.

"What? No, Sam," She shrugged, "These things are just one-offs, although if you're ever bored at a disco or anywhere else, for that matter, again, and I happen to be there..." She laughed.

"Oh..." Twinkle said, feeling strange, "See, I thought- nothing."

"Don't feel bad, kid," Heather said, in all honesty, gently stroking his cheek, "It's just how I am. Bad experiences in the past with actual relationships, you know? So I just take away all the awkward crap and leave the fun stuff. Better that way."

"I guess, I wouldn't know," Twinkle smiled, though he felt terrible inside, "I've never been in an 'actual' relationship."

Heather smiled at him.

"You will be," She nodded, "And no doubt, you'll get all of the bad stuff which comes with 'em as well. Don't feel bad about it though. You're a handsome boy, you'll be just fine. Keep the green hair, too. I hate blondes."

Twinkle smiled sadly.

"I'm not a blonde. My hair's black," He answered.

"Aw, and are those your real eyes?" Heather asked, then laughed, "I mean, of course they are...but, they're really blue? Not contacts?"

"Nope," Twinkle replied, "Really blue."

"Wow...black hair, blue eyes. Kinda rare, that, with your complexion," Heather smiled, "You'll definately find a steady bird..." A pause. "Or a bloke." She gave Twinkle a knowing smirk, then made her way back out of the toilets and into the disco again. Twinkle watched her leave and then looked in the mirror. He saw the dirty little greenhaired kid who had just lost his cherry at a school disco, and he wanted to punch him. He couldn't help but want to tell everyone about the entire affair as well. He couldn't help but feel it would impress the likes of Matt, or anyone else for that matter, who was a male and went to his school. He smiled a little.

"You're a handsome boy, you'll be just fine."

Back in the assembly hall, Twinkle had calmed down a little. Dancing as best he could with the other reject of the night, he felt like he may as well join in, if anything, just so people didn't get suspicious. He couldn't help but notice Matt wasn't being his usual bubbly self, and nudged him, mid-dance.

"What's up?"

"Nothin'..." Matt replied.

"Girl trouble," Twinkle smirked, "I told ya, she hates being called Legs...she's a girl, not an object. She's in my maths class. Gets top marks every time."

Matt resisted the urge to slap Twinkle across the face for being so right. He hated it when that weird kid was right. Something was surely wrong with the world when a boy with green hair who fancied other boys as well as fit girls was right.

"Eh, well, who needs her?" He frowned.

"You, I think," Twinkle shrugged, "But what do I know? You're probably better off without her, without all the crap which comes with relationships..."

"What? How do you suddenly know all of this, genius?" Matt mumbled. Twinkle couldn't help but smirk.

"Let's say a, um, not-so-little bird told me," He giggled, "And leave it at that."

The night went by quickly. Matt had stopped pretending to be drunk, and Twinkle had spent the entire night keeping his trap shut about the incident in the girls bathroom, though he was curious to find out who had disturbed his and Heather's private interlude. Sophie and her friends continued to dance, and even though now none of the boys were dancing by them, as they had been for the rest of the night, she felt less angry about the Matt incident. Heather had dissapeared. Twinkle figured she had gone to take her sister home or something. In a way, it made him feel better to think he would probably never see her again. He hadn't decided fully on how he felt about the whole ordeal yet.

"We're coming to the end of the night now, folks," The DJ announced over the last strains of 'Agadoo' (which Twinkle refused to dance to, it had to be noted), "So calm down and pair up for this last track, it's Boyzone and their number one hit, 'Love Me For a Reason'..."

Twinkle noticed Matt and Sophie both make lovesick glances at one and other and he shook his head, having appointed himself as 'relationship guru' for the night with his new found 'maturity'. He nudged Matt and leaned in.

"What are you doing, y'big fag?!" Matt screeched, backing away from Twinkle. Twinkle rolled his eyes and took him by the arm, leaning in again, to whisper in his ear.

"Don't be a retard, Matt...look. Sophie's all alone, all of her girl friends have gone to dance with boys," He said, pointing over to where Sophie was sadly shuffling her feet to the song, feeling very much in need of being held.

"I hate this song though," Matt lied, folding his arms stubbornly.

"I don't like it either, but most girls love stuff like this," Twinkle explained, "Just go and ask her to dance, and call her Sophie, not Legs, for God's sake..." He couldn't help but chuckle. Matt regretted venting his anger at the whole Sophie scenario to the weird kid.

"Fine..." He muttered, wandering away from Twinkle and over to Sophie. Twinkle watched them talk for a moment, although he couldn't hear what they were saying, and smiled when he saw Sophie flop into Matt's arms.

Now alone, and not in the mood to dance any more, Twinkle returned to his rightful spot at the buffet table, even though he wasn't hungry. Instead, he leaned against the table and mused upon what had happened. He suddenly felt very strange and guilty, after all, fourteen was a young age to lose your virginity, and he felt sleazy and a little bit cheap that it had happened at school with a girl he didn't even know. What a waste.

Twinkle wouldn't have sex again until four years later, when he was eighteen. Another one-time deal, with a girl named Sarah, who was sweet, pretty, but didn't really feel that he was the right man for her to be with. They went out for two weeks at the most, and she let him down gently.

The next time wouldn't be until he was twenty, and in his first steady relationship. The girl it would be with was also at the disco that night, although she and Twinkle wouldn't meet until those many years had gone by, school now in the past, and the pair of them would be with their little groups of friends at a bar called The Cabra, drinking their usual drinks, while making small talk with one and other, secretly wondering what the other one looked like naked.

That girl was called Maria.