Barnaby Rudge: So, what? Fickle's a serial adulterer? Is that it?

Twiggy: She has a, uh, a reputation, let's just say that.

Barnaby Rudge: And on what basis are you telling me this?

Twiggy: Joey said she found a nasty message from someone to Fickle on that Jess and Ali website as well.

Barnaby Rudge: So?

Twiggy: So she e-mailed this girl and asked her what it was all about.

Barnaby Rudge: And the girl said?

Twiggy: That about a couple of months ago Fickle had been coming on to her, like, dead strong and had been telling her all these things she wanted to hear, had been bombarding her with texts, e-mails, phone calls.

Barnaby Rudge: And?

Twiggy: And then this girl said she met her, they got on real well, the girl thought Fickle was "the one," then she suddenly went cold on her. She said Fickle got arsey with her whenever she asked her stuff and then not long after she found out that Fickle had been coming on to someone else on another board.

Barnaby Rudge: Please tell me it wasn't me?

Twiggy: Sorry, yeah. It was you. This girl found your messages to each other on the L&S board.

I looked at Twiggy's words. It was you. I rubbed at my eyes angrily, eyes that were already red and dry from crying, and sat back in my chair, breathing out slowly, trying to control the wild thumping of my heart.

Twiggy: Joey didn't know what to do.

Barnaby Rudge: She talked to you about it?

Twiggy: Yeah, just after she found out. She's been in pieces about it, wondering whether to tell you.

I closed my eyes. So that's why Joey kept disappearing every time Twiggy logged on. She was talking to her about me! It would go a long way towards explaining why Joey hadn't been her normal self lately as well.

Barnaby Rudge: Fickle told me she was busy tonight. I s'pose that was a lie too?

Twiggy: It's possible. I dunno, BR.

Barnaby Rudge: And she told me she had college work to do all weekend. Another lie.

Twiggy: Who knows? All I do know is that this Fickle girl sounds like she gets a kick out of coming on to people over the 'net.

Barnaby Rudge: And then when the people respond, she gets bored, backs off and finds someone else.

Twiggy: It's the classic cliche of the thrill of the chase, by the sounds of it.

Barnaby Rudge: No matter who she hurts?

Twiggy: So it would seem.

I knew I had to speak to Fickle. She'd have an explanation for me, I was sure of that. Who knows? Maybe I was the one she really wanted. Maybe she was just trying the others out-is trying the others out-until she found the real deal. Me.

I switched my phone on and, ignoring Joey's three texts and voicemail message, all left within the last hour and a bit, scrolled down to Fickle's number, knowing that the second I heard her voice, everything would be normal, that she'd tell me it was all a huge mistake, it wasn't her, and she loved me and would never do anything like that to me.

It rang through, four, five rings then, surprisingly, the phone went dead. I cursed under my breath and dialled again, thinking my reception had disappeared or that I'd pressed a wrong button. That happens sometimes, right? Again, it rang a few times, but this time, the familiar, husky voice of Fickle answered.

"Hey," she said.

I took a deep breath.

Chapter Seventeen.

"Hey," I said, trying to control the wobble in my voice.

"You all right?" Fickle said, kinda automatically.

"Yeah. You?" Just the sound of her voice made my stomach turn to mush and my heart beat faster. Nothing had changed. Why would it?

"Yeah." Fickle paused. "Good."

I could practically sense she was thinking of things to say to me. I heard her quietly tap something into her computer and felt my jaw clench.

"How's your work going?" I asked lamely.

"Work?" Fickle seemed distracted.

"Yeah. You had work to do tonight, remember?" I spoke slowly.

"Oh yeah, right!" Fickle laughed. "Of course, yeah. Yeah, it's going good."

"'Cos, like, I can hear you tapping on your keyboard there," I said, my voice steadier now. "Wondered if you were online? We could chat?"

"I'm not online, no." Fickle sounded impatient. Maybe I was imagining it? "Sorry."

There was a long pause as I tried to think of what to say to her next. I wanted to ask her about LisaD, but I didn't know what to ask. What could I ask? I frowned, a feeling of frustration welling inside of me.

"You okay?" Fickle was now asking.

I jolted myself back to the present.

"Yeah, fine," I lied. "I just wanted to say hi, thassall."

"I miss you," Fickle said, but I sensed there was something missing in the way she said it. There was no feeling, but, again, was that just my imagination?

"I miss you too," I said. I at least meant it.

"I've really gotta get on, Immy," Fickle said. "I don't mean to cut you short, but, y'know."

"Yeah, I know," I said. "Maybe catch you later?"

"Yeah."

Then she was gone. I didn't know whether I felt better for talking to her or not. She'd said she missed me, but then she might not necessarily have meant it. Maybe she just said that to get me off the phone so that I wouldn't ask her too many questions?

Frowning, I went back onto the computer, bringing up the Jess and Ali website's message board again. I found Fickle's messages to LisaD and started reading back through them, trying to create a timeline in my head, trying to figure out when it was she first started talking to her.

I read every single one of their messages, each one feeling like a steel blade being pushed into my heart, but I read on. The messages went back just four days, to the Monday after I'd met Fickle on the Saturday. In just two days she'd gone from telling me she loved me and couldn't wait to see me again to trying it on with another girl, on another site.

I refreshed the page, bringing me back to the most recent page, and felt my jaw pretty much literally drop open as I saw a message from Fickle on there, timed at 8.56 p.m. Right now. Her message was to LisaD and just said: Shall we MSN, babe? I think I'm being watched. She put a winking sign next to it and I felt sick, remembering how that winking sign used to make me feel, and thought that LisaD, whoever she was, and wherever she was, was probably feeling exactly as I used to feel.

Except that Fickle still had the power to make me feel it, even now, even after all this.

I spent the rest of the evening in bed, my mobile switched off, telling Mum I was sick and didn't want any dinner, and asked her not to disturb me 'cos I was going to try and sleep. I didn't want to hear, speak, or have to think about anyone. Except it wasn't that easy. All I could think about was Fickle and what she'd done. How could she have done that to me? Hadn't I meant anything to her?

I woke up the next morning, Saturday, after a fitful night filled with images of Fickle, winking signs, and me crying, and knew that I had to speak to her again. I had to hear it from her, had to know why she was doing this. I switched on my phone and expected to have some overnight texts from her, telling me she loved me, that she missed me.

There was nothing. It was as if she'd moved on already and everything we'd said to each other over the last month had never been said. I read through messages from Joey and Twiggy, plus a message from Emily asking me if I wanted to meet her in town later. I didn't. I read Joey's message three times. It just said: I'm here if u need me, chickeroo. Any time. Just call me and I'll be here.

Joey.

I'd been such a shit to her the night before when all she'd wanted to do was help me. I sent her a message back just saying thanks, and kinda apologising for not believing her and for being so nasty. Then I said I still needed to hear it from Fickle herself, 'cos a part of me still refused to believe it was true. I felt a small crumb of comfort when I heard my phone beep almost immediately and saw it was from Joey. It just said, Of course. I understand. And thanks for ur apologies but totes understand why u reacted how u did.

I read Joey's message again, still feeling comforted by it, then, my heart beginning to pound, for whatever ridiculous reason it had decided to pound, I sent a message to Fickle telling her I needed to speak to her urgently. I knew by now I probably wouldn't get a reply, but sent it just the same. I knew none of this would make any sense until Fickle explained it to me, and even then, I wasn't convinced I'd still fully understand.

As it was, Fickle called me back, around three hours after I'd sent her the message. I was still in bed, propped up with pillows, staring vacantly out of the window, my mind numb and apparently immune to anything going on around me, nursing my fourth cup of coffee of the morning when she rang. I stared down at my phone, ringing away, flashing her name on and off at me, kinda like it was mocking me. Almost in a daze, I answered and spoke to her.

"Hello," I said, as curtly as I could.

"Hey," she replied, a bit robotically, I thought. "You all right?"

Was I all right? Was she kidding me?

"No, Gem, I'm not all right," I said, trying to sound as pissed off as I could.

"Oh," she said, sounding surprised.

What kind of game was she playing here? I took a deep breath, trying to control the thumping of my heart.

"Who's LisaD?" I said bluntly.

"LisaD?" she replied, kinda airily, I thought.

"Yeah, LisaD." I spat the words out. "The girl you've been chatting up online?"

Fickle sighed, short and sharp, kinda like your dad does when he's just been asked to put the bins out.

"She's a friend," she said shortly.

"Good friend, huh?" I said.

"Yeah, a good friend," Fickle repeated. "Listen, Immy, what is this?"

"This is me trying to work out just what the fuck you've been up to last week," I said, trying to keep my voice down.

"What are you, my mother?" Fickle laughed sharply.

I was stung by her tone and felt my face begin to crumple.

"I thought I was your girlfriend?" I said quietly.

There was silence. How can a silence sometimes be so deafening? A silence where no words are said, but a thousand are spoken?

"It was a bit of fun, me and you." Fickle laughed lightly. "I thought you knew the deal."

"I'm sorry?" My voice rose with incredulity.

"You and me," Fickle repeated. "I thought you realised it was just a bit of fun?"

I squeezed my eyes tight shut, pinching the bridge of my nose with the finger and thumb of the hand that wasn't holding the phone and exhaled slowly, not quite believing what I was hearing.

"Was that what it was to you, then?" I asked wearily. "Just a bit of fun? 'Cos it was more than just fun to me."

Fickle paused.

"I do like you, Immy," she said. "But I thought it was always clear it was just a bit of harmless flirting, thassall."

"Are you kidding me?" I hissed. I looked at the door, making sure it was tight shut. "You came on to me like there was no tomorrow. You sucked me in with all your flirty messages, all your come-ons, telling me you loved me, that you missed me, and now you tell me it was only a bit of fun? Are you crazy?"

"I didn't think you'd see it as anything other than a laugh, Immy," Fickle said.

"Just what kind of head-fuck are you, Gemma?" I said through clenched teeth. "You knew my situation, you knew I had a boyfriend, that I was confused. You must have known that I would have taken in all your flirting and acted on it. How could you have been so cruel?"

"Cruel?" Fickle sounded amused. "What's cruel about a bit of excitement? You enjoyed it, didn't you? You got off on it, all my late-night messages, didn't you? That made you feel good about yourself, made you laugh, made you happy? What's cruel about that?"

"Didn't you know how I felt about you?" I said, feeling tears welling in my throat. "You told me you loved me, for crap's sake!"

"People say that all the time." Fickle sighed. "It's just a turn of phrase, Immy!"

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I squeezed my eyes tight shut again, determined not to cry, determined not to let Fickle have the satisfaction of knowing she'd crushed me.