Authors: Eleanor Wood
‘Come on, get in the car and we’ll talk, OK?’
‘Fine,’ I say. ‘But just for a minute.’
We get into Josh’s little car, but he makes no move to drive or even turn on the engine.
‘I’m worried about you, Sorana.’
‘Oh, for God’s sake – not you as well. What does my life have to do with you all of a sudden?’
‘We’ve known each other pretty much for ever and, you have to admit, we have been pretty close at some points.’
He looks at me meaningfully and I glance away. It’s so unfair of him to bring this up. Not like this.
‘Josh, seriously, this is the last thing I need to talk about right now. I’m totally over it, and you’ve already made your feelings very clear.’
OK, full disclosure. I’ve never told anyone this – not even Shimmi. Mostly because it was too much humiliation for me to want to relive ever again. Earlier this year, in the spring, Josh and I kissed. Just once – but for me this was obviously A Very Big Deal. For Josh, not so much – I texted him afterwards, heard nothing back for ages, then we went back to being kind-of friends just as before. Then he casually announced that he’d got off with Lexy White at some awesome party that I didn’t even hear about until afterwards.
‘OK, OK, harsh but fair,’ he admits, holding up his hands and not looking nearly contrite enough for my liking. ‘But I
do
care about you, Sorana – and I’ve been hearing loads of rumours about you and your new mates, how you’re suddenly this crazy party girl, drinking and doing drugs, going off with strange men. It’s not true, is it?’
‘Yes,’ I say flatly. ‘It’s all true. So what?’
I go to open the door and make a swift exit from the car, but Josh stops me.
‘I also heard something about you and some guy called Jago – and that he’s seriously bad news.’
‘There’s nothing going on. I’ve met him, like, twice and barely even spoken to him. Not that it’s anything to do with you.’
‘Well, I’ve heard that he and his stepbrother are real scumbags, so be careful.’ He pauses and grins. ‘Anyway, I thought you still only had eyes for me!’
He puts his arm around me and, although an involuntary shiver goes right through me, I can’t tell if he’s joking so I automatically brush him off.
‘Oh, I see,’ I mutter. ‘You don’t want me, but I’m not allowed to fancy anyone else ever again, is that it?’
‘Yeah, something like that…’
Josh leans in to kiss me and I am so taken by surprise that for a minute I kiss him back.
‘Hang on – what do you think you’re doing?’ I push him away.
‘I dunno, just, this…’
He lunges for me again and I push him away harder this time.
‘I mean it, Josh – get off me!’
‘Shit, calm down – it’s not that big a deal. I thought that’s what you were into now, or maybe you’re just too hung up on your skeevy new boyfriend to be interested in me any more…’
‘Yeah, whatever. Tell it to Lexy White.’
Not the most cutting of comebacks, but I’m too upset to think of anything else as I stumble out of the car. Josh revs up and speeds away from the kerb before I can even begin to process what just happened.
On the surface, nothing looks different at home this evening. Just an ordinary school night. The turmoil that’s whirling in my brain is invisible to the naked eye.
Once we’re all in from our respective days – Pete unfortunately staying late at his office, probably on purpose – Mum sends Daisy into the living room with a bowl of popcorn and tells her that she’s allowed to watch whatever she wants on TV. When we find ourselves alone, Mum and I sit down at the kitchen table together, although for once I would rather be anywhere else in the entire world right now. At first there’s nothing but stony silence.
Then, like Miss Webb, she asks me what I have to say for myself, and I can only shrug. It’s at this point that Mum gets all teary and starts ranting to fill the quiet.
‘I’m just so disappointed… I don’t understand how you could do this, you and Shimmi – how could you behave so differently from the girl we know and love at home?’
She starts properly crying, for real, and there is absolutely nothing I can do or say to make it better. I feel worse than I could ever have imagined. I realise that she just thinks, without question, that I’m completely guilty. I don’t expect her to be able to read my mind, but it’s like she has already decided that it’s all true and that’s all there is to this story. All I want in the whole world is for me to be able to say it’s not really my fault and that I never, ever meant to be malicious, and for her to give me a hug and say it’ll be OK – but neither of us can do it.
I have to take action or I’m going to drive myself crazy. What I’m going to do is a gamble, but it’s all I’ve got. All day, while battling through school, I’ve known that there’s only one thing I can do that might make a difference. I wanted to talk to my mum first, but that’s got me nowhere.
In a strangled voice, I mumble a few words about having something that I’ve got to do, then I flee from the kitchen and get the hell out of the house.
The hospital is a grim building on the outskirts of town. I’ve been here a few times before – I had my appendix out when I was fifteen, and hung around in the waiting room at A and E for hours on a Saturday when Daisy broke her wrist rollerblading.
Despite this, the bus journey feels like travelling into uncharted territory. When I arrive, I am immediately lost in the endless corridors. I feel like a walking ghost that nobody can see. Then, in the middle of it all, I see a familiar face.
My initial reaction when I see Amie Bellairs is confusion, closely followed by embarrassment – because, of course, while I’m in my hideous school uniform and my hair could do with a wash, Amie looks like something out of the latest Hollister catalogue, in designer tracksuit bottoms and a tight top. Despite the circumstances, I’m still vain enough to care.
‘Hi, Amie,’ I venture tentatively.
‘Oh, Sorana – hey. I guess you’re here to see Nathalie?’
‘Um, yeah. Look, Amie – I know you were trying to talk to me about something before. I’m sorry I kind of shot you down, it’s just…’
‘I get it. I don’t blame you for not wanting to chat to me about your personal business. Just talk to Nathalie, OK? She’s in a private room at the end of this corridor. That last door on the left, see?’
‘Right. Thanks.’
I can’t believe how nice she’s being. Although, I can’t help wondering why she would come here to see Nathalie when she has never shown the slightest bit of interest in her before.
‘I’ve got to go. Just please make sure you talk to Nathalie, OK? And take care.’
She hurries away, with a quick look over her shoulder as she goes. I wonder what all that was about, but I don’t have the time or the brain space to give it too much thought. My legs feel numb as I walk towards Nathalie’s room. The door is ajar and, when I raise my hand to knock softly, it feels like I’m watching somebody else’s body.
‘Nathalie?’
‘Sorana – come in.’
I feel my chin wobbling alarmingly and – I can’t help it – I burst into uncontrollable sobs.
‘Nathalie, I’m so sorry,’ I gasp eventually, wiping my nose on my sleeve. ‘About everything, and now turning up here and just being so…going to pieces… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.’
‘I know.’
‘How are you? You’re going to be OK, aren’t you?’
‘Yeah, I’m going to be fine,’ she says. ‘I feel a bit weak, I’ve got a headache and my throat really hurts – they had to stick a tube down it – but they don’t think there’s any permanent damage. I should be out of here in the next couple of days.’
‘And how are you feeling…you know, yourself?’
‘Like, what – am I sick in the head now?’
‘That’s not what I meant,’ I reply quickly. ‘But it’s just, you must have been feeling really…desperate, to do what you did…’
‘Yeah, I’ve been having a really hard time; you know that. But it doesn’t seem so bad now; it never does, I suppose. I don’t want to die, I mean. I probably never did.’
‘But you…’ I can’t even finish the sentence.
‘Yeah, I know, I tried. You know how sometimes you have a night where everything feels like it’s really hopeless and it’s never going to get any better?’
‘Yeah…’
‘It was one of those. I really believed it at the time, but now obviously I wish that I’d just never done it. I feel like a bit of an idiot, for one thing; and then there’s my parents, most of all.’
‘Oh, Nats, I can imagine…’
‘They’ve gone into overdrive, and who can blame them? They’re pretty hysterical. I made them go to the canteen for dinner so they’d leave me alone, but they’ll be back soon. I know they were on the phone to Miss Webb this morning and everything, as well…’
Nathalie looks so mortified that for one horrible moment I think she’s going to apologise to
me
, which would make me feel worse than just about anything in the world at this point, given the circumstances.
‘It’s fine,’ I lie. ‘Don’t even think about it.’
‘Yeah, but that’s not all. You know it was me who told Miss Webb that day when you all went off with those men…’
I have known it all along; I don’t need her to tell me.
‘Nathalie, it’s OK,’ I insist. ‘It’s my fault. I know it. I’m really, really sorry. That’s all I can say. But I’m not just saying it; I promise, I’ll make it up to you.’
‘I know you’re sorry and I know you’re not a bad person. But…look, you’ve been a bitch lately, Sorana.’
It’s not like Nathalie to be this blunt. Given where bottling it all up has got us – I guess it’s about time.
‘Actually…’ she qualifies, choosing her words carefully, ‘it’s not even that you’ve been a bitch, exactly. You’ve just been really weird.’
‘
Things
have been really weird. I just feel like it’s all gone so far out of control. I honestly never meant to do anything bad to you, or to upset anyone.’
‘The thing is,’ she goes on, ‘I know it’s not completely your fault, and you haven’t done anything terrible – not on purpose, at least. But I always felt like you and I looked out for each other, you know? Shimmi’s always making fun of me, and everyone else pretty much ignores me – but you never do. Without you around to stick up for me and have lunch together, I just felt completely…alone. Stupid, I know.’
‘God, it’s not stupid. I can’t believe I’ve been so insensitive. I’m going to sort it out; I’m going to make it up to you.’
I feel so much better already. Things may not be perfect, but at least Nathalie doesn’t hate me too much. Even though it’s an awful thing that has happened and I still feel sick to the core about it, we both know it’s not all black and white.
‘It’s not as simple as that, though, is it?’
Nathalie’s tone is so flimsy and wistful that it’s a moment before the words sink in. Maybe it’s not as simple as that, but it doesn’t stop me wishing it were.
‘No, but—’ I begin, but Nathalie interrupts me.
‘That night when it all kicked off… I know I was drunk, but I still stand by what I said about Elyse. You’re supposed to be the clever one, so start being clever – you must have noticed it. Everything that’s been going wrong, it’s happened since those twins arrived.’
There is an ominous silence as I take a deep breath.
‘Look, Nats, Elyse and Melanie are my friends. You’re entitled to your opinion, but I really don’t think that’s fair.’
‘Do you really believe that?
Completely
believe that?’
I’m not sure I want to hear what Nathalie has to say. This feels dangerous.
‘I have to say this, Sorana. It’s important. I have to warn you.’
‘What do you mean,
warn
me?’
‘OK, why do you think Amie Bellairs was here?’
‘I’ve got to admit, I
did
wonder…’
‘Well, it’s not like you think. She heard what…happened to me, and she came to talk to me about them, about Elyse and Melanie.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘She thought they might have had something to do with this. She actually thought that something might have happened to me, just like what happened to her…and to Lexy. Mysterious “accidents”, bad things happening.’
‘But how can you believe what Amie Bellairs says about anyone, after the way she’s treated both of us over the years?’
This is irrelevant and I know it. I’m just saying words.
‘Look, I’d feel like that as well if it wasn’t so obvious – I’ve had my suspicions from the beginning and now I know they’re true.’
‘
What’s
true?’
‘Amie told me what happened between her and the twins. When she fell out with them. She knew that the hockey-match thing wasn’t an accident. She knew that something wasn’t right. So, she’s friends with this girl on Facebook who went to their old school, and she told Amie why they left…’
Even though I’m still not sure I want to hear this, something in my brain clicks. Like I know this is the truth and I need to hear it. Maybe there
is
something that’s not right, as much as I’ve been trying to deny it.
Then a shadow falls over me. I spin around to see Nathalie’s mum, standing in the doorway.
‘Sorana, I think it’s time for you to go home now, don’t you?’ Her tone is, understandably, icy.
I have no choice, but I still drag my heels before admitting defeat and leaving Nathalie.
‘Just take care, all right, Sorana?’ is all she murmurs as I am ushered out of the room.
‘Yeah, you too…’
After a cold and miserable bus journey home, I’m hiding away in my room by myself. I can hear my family eating dinner and watching TV below me; the occasional bit of chatter or breakout laughter drifts up the stairs like a pointed insult. My mum must be just as wary of spending time with me right now as I am of her, because once I’ve quietly let myself in and trudged up the stairs, she doesn’t come up to see how I am or if I want something to eat.
Now, I know for most people this is hardly revolutionary – loads of my classmates eat dinner by themselves or spend every evening alone in their bedrooms watching TV. But in my house, we always eat dinner at the kitchen table and then watch TV together. Even if I’m reading a book and Pete’s working on his laptop, we’re always in the same room. So, it feels like a real statement on both sides that I’m locked away alone in my room like this.
When I first made it home and up the stairs, I threw myself onto the bed and burst into tears again. I cried hard and couldn’t stop for ages. It seems like I’ve cried more in the last few days than I have done ever before in my life.
Once that’s sort of fizzled out, I don’t quite know what to do with myself. Now, I’m surprised – and a bit ashamed – to find that I’m just bored more than anything else, really. Of course, I don’t have a TV in my room, which would be the obvious solution. I do a bit of homework and try to read my book, but I can’t really concentrate – once I’ve done a half-arsed job of French and Sociology, which is all that’s due for tomorrow, that’s kind of all my options exhausted. Lying on my bed, listening to my iPod and feeling moody, actually gets tedious more quickly than I thought it would.
The worst thing is that my brain refuses to shut up. It won’t let me forget all the things that I don’t want to think about any more. I thought going to see Nathalie would make us both feel better, but our unresolved conversation at the hospital keeps running through my head. I still haven’t figured out what exactly Amie Bellairs was doing there, and I’ve no idea what she told Nathalie. Then I randomly think of that night by the river at the twins’ house – somehow it all seems to fit together; I just can’t work out how.
Elyse and Melanie
are
my friends, but I’ve had the occasional doubt recently, too. Like that night at their house, and what might have actually happened between them and Amie. Then there’s the astrology charts and whether they could possibly have had something to do with the couple of unusually bad incidents that have occurred recently. I tell myself I’m being stupid; maybe I’ve thought it, but it’s definitely not the sort of thing I want other people to say about my friends. Especially not Amie Bellairs – it makes me feel all defensive and like I don’t want to believe anything she says, whatever it is.
I try texting Shimmi, but there’s no reply. I’m pretty sure that her dad would have taken all luxuries such as communication away from her instantly. If it’s bad in my house – and it really is – then I can guarantee that it will be a million times worse round at Shimmi’s tonight.
I stare at one page of my book for what feels like hours, reading the same sentence repeatedly and not taking in a word. I hoped it might make me feel sleepy but it doesn’t. Eventually, I hear Daisy go into the bathroom and then to bed. Not long afterwards, I hear my mum’s audibly sad footsteps following hers up the stairs, Pete’s voice talking in what I imagine are soothing tones, before their door shuts behind them and all the lights in the house are switched off except for mine.
Just as I’m wondering if I feel remotely tired enough to admit defeat and try to go to sleep, there’s a noise at my window like a gunshot. The first time it happens, I jump practically out of my skin, but I try to ignore it – surely it was some random noise outside in the street and it will just go away. Then it comes again – a crack that sounds like a direct hit against my windowpane, a cross between a firework and a finger-click right next to the ear. I can only hope it’s not some sort of hate crime because word’s got around that I’m such a bitch I drive my best friends to the point of suicide.
I go to the window and I am flooded with a mixture of relief and panic. Elyse.
She’s standing in the pouring rain, dressed in going-out clothes – giving Shimmi a run for her money in the jailbait stakes – and full-on goth make-up. She gestures for me to come down and let her in.
My heart is in my mouth as I creep down the stairs and tiptoe into the kitchen. I can see Elyse through the glass panel of the back door, already grinning at me like a clown mask. I try to be as quiet as I possibly can, while I find the right key and wrestle the door open against the wind and rain. As soon as there’s a big enough gap for her to reach through, Elyse embraces me in a huge, rain-soaked hug. She’s all manic and I wonder if she might be drunk, or something else.
‘Thank God we got hold of you,’ she exclaims, not nearly quietly enough for my liking. ‘If we ever needed the four corners, it’s now. Trust me. We really need the whole gang together tonight, babe. Come with me, I’ll explain on the way.’
Despite her excitement, Elyse is saying all of this like it’s completely normal – you know, why
wouldn’t
you sneak out of the kitchen on a school night without a second thought?
‘Elyse, are you high? I’m in enough trouble already. I can’t just go out in the middle of the night without anybody noticing.’
Elyse smiles at me and takes my hand. It’s hard to meet her eyes; there is so much charisma pouring out of her, I know she’ll convince me of whatever she wants. Elyse’s approval makes me feel golden, and it’s hard to resist.
‘Sorana, we need you. You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t essential – I do get it, you know? Seriously, I don’t want to get you into any extra trouble; we’ll make sure you’re home before morning and no one will notice. You’re always trying to be the good girl and please everyone – and I don’t want to sound like a bitch here, but what good has it done you so far?’