Everything Left Unsaid (15 page)

The next day, after the beach walk, I go out by myself. I have to stop to spew while I’m walking, and have that awful bile taste in my mouth afterwards. I go into the nearest corner shop and buy a can of drink, not even looking at what it is, not caring – I just want my mouth to taste of something other than spew.

I know where I’m going, but I don’t really think about it, not until I’m standing in front of the animal rescue shelter.

For some reason, I find myself staring at the kittens, though I’d meant to look at the puppies. The girl who is working here comes over and says, ‘These are our last-chance kittens: they only have a week to get adopted and then they are put down. These little guys have been here for five days now.’ She claps her hand over her mouth. ‘Oops. I’m not supposed to say that. Pretend you didn’t hear it.’

Most of the kittens in the cage are ignoring me, but a little black one launches itself at the side of the cage meowing.

‘Can I take him?’ I hear myself saying.

• • •

Mum’s reaction when I arrive home with a cardboard box in my arms and a packet of cat food stuffed into my backpack is milder than I expected. She just kind of sighs and says, ‘I understand, Tai.’

Does she?
I wonder.
Does she know how lonely I feel, even when I’m surrounded by people?

On Monday I sleep in, and have to hand yet another late slip to a teacher.

She sighs, and checks off something in her book. ‘Juliet, under normal circumstances you’d be long overdue for a detention for the amount of late slips you’ve presented me with lately.’

All I can do is stare at her, hold out my hand for the detention slip I figure is coming. Instead she says quietly, ‘Perhaps you should go and have a chat with Mr Edwards, the guidance counsellor. Poetry can wait.’

It’s not a suggestion, so I pick up my books. She thrusts the latest assignment at me as a parting gift.

• • •

‘Juliet.’ The counsellor smiles when he sees me at the door. ‘Come in, then.’ He flicks through some papers while I sit down and wrap my arms around myself.
Holdontightsoyoudon’tcry
.

‘You seem to be amassing quite a collection of late slips by the look of things. There’s no end-of-year award for that, Juliet.’ He smiles in that way grown-ups do when they think they’re being hilarious, before putting his serious-counsellor face on. ‘And detentions too, it seems.’

‘Well yeah, but they’re not for anything serious. It’s not like I’m dealing cocaine behind the sports shed or anything.’

‘You do realise that another few detentions will mean suspension, don’t you?’

‘Yeah,’ I say dully.

‘You do realise your finals are in two weeks?’

‘Yeah. I know.’

‘The next week is all about revision. Your teachers want to help you, but they can’t if you’re not in class.’ His round little face looks so eager for me to cooperate, to agree, that I nod.

‘Yeah. Okay.’

‘How are things at home, Juliet?’

‘They’re okay, I guess.’

‘And with Tai?’

I shrug. ‘Why do you think I’m always late to school? Or keep getting told off for texting in class?’

‘How about you tell me?’

I wake late, too late for school. My headphones are still in my ears and I pull them out with fingers clumsy with sleep. The iPod hits the floor, and Mum appears in my room not long after.

‘Morning, Tai,’ she says.

‘You didn’t wake me,’ I accuse.

‘I thought you needed the sleep.’ Her smile falters, and I feel guilty now.

‘Yeah, I do. But I have to go back to the hospital for chemo next week, Mum. And right now I want to be at school with my friends like everyone else.’

‘Tai, you
aren’t
everyone else. Give yourself a break.’

‘Why, because it won’t matter anyway?’

‘Tai.’ She flashes me a
look
.

‘You know it’s true.’

Mum sits on the bed, takes my hand and says slowly, ‘Tai, you’re sick. And if you don’t listen to your body, you’re going to get sicker faster. If you’re sleeping, it’s because you need the rest. Do you really think that in a couple of months’ time you’re going to wish that I’d woken you up and sent you to school more?’

Oh, aren’t we all experts at reading between the lines?
I think, catching her eye.
I know what you’re saying, even when you can’t bring yourself to say it
.

‘I just . . . I wanted . . .’

‘I know. But you can’t push yourself too hard, or you’ll end up in hospital again.’ There’s a silence, then she sighs. ‘I don’t know why I’m telling you to take it easy. Go for it, kiddo. Exhaust yourself now. And then I’ll be able to sleep during schoolies week because your doctor won’t let you go.’

‘As if. He’ll totally let me go.’

‘We’ll just see what he says next week.’ She smiles.

‘You
want
him to say no, don’t you?’

‘Well . . . maybe. Just a little.’

When the guidance counsellor finally lets me go, I so want to go home, but I can’t, so I go with the next best option and head to the sick bay. ‘I’m not feeling well. Can I lie down for a while?’

The nurse leads me to a bed, full of sympathy. ‘It’s tough, this time of year. Just thinking about exams makes
me
feel unwell, and I don’t even have to do them. Close your eyes and rest.’

I wait until she’s gone and pull my phone out of my pocket.

Should’ve come to school today, Tai. They’re doing repeat versions of my favourite lecture: The World Will End If You Don’t Study Enough To Go To Uni.

Sounds fun. But I’ll pass.

They threw in a free visit to the guidance counsellor, too. Tempted yet?

Not even close. Why’d they send you there, anyway?

They’ve progressed to threatening me with suspension if I keep turning up late and stuff.

You still doing that? Really? That’s stupid.

Kinda sounds like you’re calling me stupid, Tai.

You’re not, but what you’re doing is.

• • •

Mum’s lost patience too, and tells me off way more fiercely than Tai. ‘Why, Juliet?’ she yells at me one night, when I’ve unsuccessfully tried to slip in the door late again. ‘Why are you doing this?’

‘Because.’

‘Oh, well that makes perfect sense. Because.’ Mum’s brought out the sarcasm. ‘Stop being impossible and tell me why you’re doing this to me.’

‘I’m not doing it to you, okay? It’s got nothing to do with you. I just . . . ’ Mum is staring at me, waiting. ‘I just don’t want Tai to die, and the last thing I said to him was something ridiculous and stupid, or when I was angry at him. If things were normal, I’d just hang up the phone or whatever, and it wouldn’t matter. But I can’t, okay? I’m trying, I am, but there’s so much I have to say still, and I’m trying.’

One night, instead of visiting me, Juliet gives in to the lectures and stays home to study. And that night, I nearly break my arm. We’re eating dinner, and I need a glass of water. River’s sitting beside me, practically in my lap, stealing forkfuls of pasta off my plate when he thinks I’m not looking.

‘Stop it, River.’ I elbow him, and he giggles.

‘But yours is tastier, Tai.’

‘It’s the same food.’

‘Is not. Yours is
absolutely
better.’

‘I’ve got to get some more water,’ I say. ‘Don’t eat the lot while I’m gone.’

‘Better hurry then!’

It’s a game now, and I stand up fast – only it’s too fast and my head starts to spin.
Ignore it
, I think,
it’ll be gone in a second so just keep moving your feet and it’s getting worse and close your eyes and . . 
.

When I open my eyes again, the spinning has been replaced by a steady, aching throb. Mum is kneeling above me. ‘You okay, Tai?’ she asks anxiously.

‘I think so,’ I whisper. The headache I expected, but there’s pain in my wrist, too, sharp and biting. ‘Why does my arm hurt?’

‘You landed on that first, when you passed out.’

As soon as I can sit up, I inspect the damage. It’s bruising already, a deep blue stain against the pale skin.

Mum presses a packet of frozen peas onto my wrist and frowns. ‘Can you move your fingers?’

I try, and shake my head. ‘No.’

While River and Hendrix decide the crisis is over and go back to eating my dinner, Mum and Dad decide someone should take me to the hospital for an X-ray. Dad finds the car keys and Mum grabs Hendrix by the shoulder.

‘I can see you. Take your broccoli back off my plate and eat it.’

Dad collects his phone, his wallet. ‘Let’s go, Tai.’

In the car he turns on some golden-oldies easy-listening radio station, and it’s barely been five minutes before I can’t stand it anymore, reaching out with my good arm to change the station. Dad frowns, and changes it back.

‘Dad, this music makes me want to remove my own eardrums.’

‘You know the rule, Tai,’ he says; he’s on autopilot, concentrating on the intersection ahead. ‘When you’re the driver you can pick the music.’

‘Um, Dad?’
You want to reconsider that one?

‘Sorry, Tai,’ he mutters. ‘Sorry.’ He pats me on the knee before reaching out and changing the station again, turning the music up to cover the silence that lasts the rest of the way to the hospital.

It’s still lingering in the waiting room at Emergency, so I watch people while Dad watches TV. There’s an old couple, a guy talking into his phone, a kid sucking down Ventolin and talking to his mum, and a woman in her pyjamas who looks like she’s got the plague or something. She’s people-watching, too, and when our eyes catch she gives me a sympathetic look.
Tough break, kid
.

My name finally gets called, and they send me off for an X-ray before I spend about three hours staring at the wall, waiting for the doctor to come back. He does, eventually.

‘Good news, Tai. It’s not broken, just sprained. I’ll strap it up for you and you can go home. The swelling should go down in a few days.’ He gets busy with a bandage. ‘There you go. Now, you can take Panadol for it, but you might find you want something a bit stronger than that. I’ll write you out a script.’

‘It’s okay. I’ve got it.’ He gives me a weird look and checks my chart again. ‘Oh. I see.’

Didn’t read it in the first place, did you, doc?

‘When is your next appointment with your oncologist?’

‘In a couple of days.’

‘Okay. I’ll write out a letter for you to give him.’ He practically runs out of the room, like he’s practising his disappearing act.
Nice way to mask the awkward, doctor
.

As soon as I get home I’m into the painkillers.

‘Are they sure it’s not broken?’ Mum asks.

‘That’s what the X-ray said. Night, Mum.’

‘Goodnight, Tai. Oh, hold on – do you still want to go to school tomorrow? If you’re too tired you don’t have to, you know that.’

‘Yeah, I’ll go.

‘You know, Tai . . .’ She pauses, looking uncertain. ‘If you’re not well, that’s okay. Everyone will understand.’

‘I want to.’ I need to do something that makes me feel like everyone else, just for a little bit.

Tai arrives at the bus stop the next morning looking tireder than usual, his wrist heavily bandaged.

‘What happened to you?’

‘Tried to fly.’ He smiles. ‘Didn’t work out so well.’

‘Never does. Are you okay?’

‘Yeah. It’s just a sprain. Have we got biology first this morning?’

‘You do.’ I grin.

‘Bit old to hide in the toilets the entire time, aren’t you?’

‘I wish. Mr Peters wants me to go and see the careers officer to apply for that special consideration. I think you can get it if personal stuff is affecting your ability to study.’

‘Cool.’

It’s so far from cool it’s ridiculous, but I smile at him, and thrust one of my headphones towards him. ‘Here. Good song.’

• • •

At school, he keeps the iPod, while I cross my fingers in my pocket, ditch the gum, and go to the careers office. Miss Thomas nods at the chair on the other side of her desk, and pushes a form in my direction.

‘Okay, Juliet.’ She smiles at me. ‘What you need to do is fill out this form. You need to complete the section about why you should be granted special consideration. Then I’ll collate that with documentation from our counsellor and send it all off for you. Any questions?’

‘Can you remind me how this works again?’

‘If it’s granted, your final marks will be adjusted to reflect what we expect they would be if circumstances weren’t what they are. It means you won’t be disadvantaged when the tertiary offers begin. What were you planning to apply for, by the way?’

‘Human services or social work,’ I say. Up until now it’s only been uncertain and abstract, one idea out of a hundred, but as soon as the words leave my mouth it makes perfect sense and I know that’s what I want to do.

She smiles at me, like a mother hen. ‘I think you’ll be perfect for it, Juliet. Now, while you’re here – any other questions?’

‘What do I do if the special consideration is declined?’

‘I wouldn’t expect it to be declined, Juliet, I really wouldn’t. Let’s worry about that if it comes to it.’

She gives me that Conversation Over smile, so I pick up my stuff and go. But I’m feeling more anxious than I’m letting on. I need this. Because, really, I’m all too aware of what everyone keeps trying to tell me – I can’t lose out on uni as well as Tai. And, okay, I know it’ll be my own fault if I don’t get in – too little studying and too much skipping class – but I just don’t know how to handle this any other way.

Juliet comes to class after her visit to the careers officer and slides into the chair beside me, looking completely miserable. She folds her arms on the desk and rests her head on them with a sigh.

‘What’s wrong?’ She ignores me, and I poke her in the ribs with a pen until she looks up, tears threatening to fall.
Great
.