Free Dangerous to Know by Katy Moran

patting him on the arm. “Look, mate, don’t worry. It’ll be fine. Buggy and me had an agreement. He was happy to wait till my dad’s cash turns up. It should be in my account by the end of the month. I’ll pay Buggy then. It’s cool. For all we know, Curtis has probably been bullshitting him for ages about that money. It’s not the same situation at all.”
    Jono frowned, nodding. “Maybe. Ben’s definitely a massive bullshitter. But still. You don’t want to mess with Buggy.”
    “Don’t worry,” I said again. “I can handle him. And anyway I’ve got more important stuff to think about – me and Bethany got caught. Mands’ cousin blabbed about her coming to the festival with us – you know, Bethany’s mate.”
    I kept quiet about Herod and about Owen. If I’d seen Sammy, I would have told him. Just not Jono. What was the point? I’ve known Jono even longer than Sammy and he’s good for a laugh; its just everything is always about him.
    “Shit!” he said, and then straight away: “My mum reckons I stayed at yours all weekend—”
    I sighed. “Don’t worry. She’s not going to see my parents, is she?” And I told him what had happened when I got home.
    Jono winced. “Nasty, mate, nasty.” I could tell he was mostly relieved that his mum was blissfully ignorant about the whole thing. Jono’s mum is blissfully ignorant about most of what Jono gets up to, to be honest.
    “We don’t care, though,” I told him. “I’m going to see her now.”
    Jono stared at me. “You must be well desperate.” He sighed, properly patronizing. “Why bother with the hassle? Georgie Hicks blatantly fancies you – and she’s easy.” He shook his head, looking annoyed. “They all think you’re so bloody mysterious. I don’t get it. You’re just a dodgy greb with long hair.”
    He didn’t understand about Bethany – that was for sure. “Thanks for the compliment, Jono.” I crossed the park at a run.
    I’d never been to Bethany’s house before but I knew which one it was. One of the very last places before town gave way to fields. Almost in the countryside, really. No wonder she rode a bike. She’d told me her bedroom looked out over a meadow, which meant it must be round the back.
    There was a big ornate gate at the top of the driveway, but it was open, hanging rusty off its hinges. That surprised me. Bethany’s mother seemed like the type who’d go in for closed gates everything all neat and tidy. Her dad was off sick in a new job, though. What happened if you couldn’t go to work for months because you were ill? Perhaps Bethany’s parents weren’t as loaded as they seemed. I avoided the gravel drive and made for the back of the house, sneaking round the side of the garage. The garden was enormous – mainly lawn, stretching away into nowhere. A few windows were lit up, but all had the curtains drawn save one on the first floor. I heard the muffled hum of a television. Sitting room. I grinned to myself, sticking two fingers up at the curtained window.
    There’s one for you fascists.
    From the middle of the lawn, I looked up at the lit window on the first floor. A string of fairy lights blinked behind the glass. It was Bethany’s room. Had to be.
    For a minute I stood there like a complete idiot, wondering what to do. Then I remembered something I’d read in a Famous Five book when I was a kid, took a small stone from the gravel path running round the back of the house and lobbed it up at the window. Not a bad shot, from someone as rubbish at sport as I am. It bounced off the glass and landed on the grass beside me. I waited, breathless, half expecting someone to open the sitting-room curtains and peer outside. Nothing happened. Then, slowly, the upstairs window opened and Bethany looked out. She saw me and smiled. Holding a finger to her lips, she disappeared for a moment. I waited, feeling like my hair was turning white with fear. And yet, strangely, getting a kick out of it, too. Nothing