Skin Deep (14 page)

She pushed past me and marched to the counter. I heard her order two coffees and ask for a cup of ice. She came back with a pile of paper napkins. She unfolded a couple on the table and tipped some ice on to them, then rolled them up to make an ice pack. ‘Hold that on your hand. I feel awful for not noticing earlier. Do you need some for your face too?’

‘Nah, it’s no big deal. He missed me mostly.’

‘Do you always do this?’ she demanded.

‘What?’

‘Get people to offload on you, but everything to do with you is “no big deal”.’

‘I don’t know.’ Did I?

She tossed me a sachet of sugar to go with the coffee. ‘If I had to do it, I think you should.’

‘Eh?’

‘Your turn. You made me tell you stuff. Now it’s your turn.’

‘Nothing to tell. I’m boring.’ There was no way I was telling her personal things.

She sighed in exasperation. ‘You’re annoying. Even more than Charlie and I thought that was impossible. That’s not fair.’

‘I don’t
talk
to girls.’

She did the rabbit thing again with her nose. ‘What do you do with them then?’

She walked right into that one. I leaned back in the seat and raised my eyebrows and waited until she got it. She coloured up and fiddled with the lid on her coffee cup. ‘What about your girlfriends? You must talk to them.’

‘I don’t have girlfriends. Just girls I, er, hang out with sometimes.’

‘Urgh! That is such a Neanderthal attitude.’

‘Yeah? Better than being bloody
sensitive
.’

She blinked. ‘What?’

‘Nothing,’ I said, tipping sugar into my coffee and stirring it viciously. ‘Anyway, I thought you were supposed to be quiet and shy and –’

She huffed. ‘You wanted me to talk. Your fault.’

‘Huh! I’ve created a monster.’

Jenna jumped like I’d slapped her. I didn’t understand why for a moment, until she put her hand to her cheek to cover it. Then I got it. ‘Oh, fuck, no, I didn’t mean it like that. Don’t be stupid.’

But she was already up and grabbing her bag and pushing past me without a word to rush out of the door.

I threw my coat over my arm, picked up the coffees and hurried after her. She was standing in the street dithering over which direction to go.

‘Don’t you dare run off! I’ll catch you anyway,’ I barked. ‘You totally overreacted. You know I didn’t mean it like that.’

She hung her head. ‘I’m sorry,’ she mumbled. I thought I heard her sniff too and I felt like a shit for shouting at her.

‘Hold the coffee.’ Christ, she was hard work. I shoved the cups at her and put my coat round her shoulders. ‘Now give it back to me and put this on. It’s cold.’

‘But then you’ll be –’

‘Just do it, Jenna.’ I snatched the cups back. ‘Come on, we’re going home.’

She trailed after me down the street, slipping her arms into the coat sleeves. I paused to hand her coffee cup back when she was ready. ‘Thanks,’ she said, head still down, and we walked on in silence.

I had the craziest idea. I knew how to convince her for sure that the guy at the Rugby Club was a human turd and that she wasn’t disgusting. Because she wasn’t. Yes, the scars were bad, but you got used to them after a while and the rest of her face was cute. She had this funny smile, shy and cheeky all at once. It got to you. And those big blue ‘cuddle me better’ eyes. Plus she fitted under my arm just right.

All I had to do was kiss her and I could make it all go away. I’d kissed loads of girls. I was good at it.

But it was a dumb idea. Jenna wasn’t like the others. You couldn’t kiss her and walk away. She wouldn’t understand that.

She tugged my sleeve. ‘Ryan, I’m sorry. It wasn’t your fault. It was mine.’

I sat down on a garden wall. ‘What was all that about?’

She sniffed and rubbed her nose. ‘Shrek.’

‘Eh?’

‘It’s not worth explaining. But in films, have you ever noticed that scarred people are always the baddies? They’re always evil like Joker in
Batman
, or Scar in
The Lion King
. I never noticed it before the accident, but it’s true.’

‘Can’t say I have, but then we haven’t got a TV.’

She stared. ‘You don’t? Oh! That is weird.’

I sighed – yeah, wasn’t everything about me weird? ‘It’s all right, I understand, but you can’t expect everyone to tiptoe round you. If they don’t mean it that way then don’t take it like that.’

She sat down next to me. ‘Sorry. Again. I’ll try. I know you’re right.’

I rested my arm on her shoulders. ‘We friends?’

‘Do you want to be?’ She stared at her feet while I bit back a smile.

‘Yup, do you?’

She nodded.

‘OK, we are then.’ I hugged her briefly. ‘Go on then – three questions and I’ll answer them. And that’s it.’

She sipped her coffee. I checked for signs that she thought she’d got one over on me, but I didn’t see any. She really wasn’t at all clued-up yet.

‘OK, first one. What were you doing there tonight? I’m guessing you don’t play rugby. Did you go with the girl who isn’t your girlfriend so I don’t know what to call her?’

‘Yeah. I’ve hung out with her a few times and she had a spare ticket. She nagged me so I went. Her dad owns the boatyard where I work so I hope she doesn’t screw that up for me.’

Jenna groaned. ‘See, I told you I’d messed things up.’

I butted my shoulder on hers. ‘No, you haven’t. Pete would go mental over me seeing her so you’ve more got me out of trouble than into it.’

‘Did you like her though, Ryan? Really?’

I thought about it. ‘Nope. It was just sex.’ She looked down quickly. ‘Hey, she didn’t really like me either. She got what she wanted and she saw what she wanted to see. If she knew the rest, she’d already have dumped me.’

‘What do you mean, the rest?’

I scratched my neck a bit. ‘Oh, stuff.’

‘Hey, come on – you said three questions.’

‘You’ve had three.’

‘And you’ve got to answer them. Spill!’

I gulped some coffee down and burned my tongue. She waited. ‘My mum. Sometimes she’s not very well.’

‘Oh. Do you have to look after her?’

‘Yeah.’

‘What’s wrong with her?’

‘I really don’t want to get into this.’

To my surprise, she put her hand over mine where it rested on the wall, taking care not to touch my cut knuckles. Thin little fingers with no strength in them. She didn’t say anything, but sat there watching the cars go by. Waiting.

‘Do you know what bipolar disorder is?’ She shook her head. ‘Manic depression?’

‘I’ve heard of it, but not really.’

‘It’s a mental illness. People with it go through phases where they get really low and then others where they’re high. Not normal ups and downs. Totally extreme and when they’re like that they’re not in control. They do strange stuff.’

‘And that’s what your mum’s got?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Is it . . . Is she . . .’

‘Is she dangerous?’ A bubble of anger rose inside, blocking my throat. ‘No, she’s not!’

‘I was going to ask if she’s going to get better,’ she said softly.

It was my turn to stare at my feet in the stupid shoes left over from when we’d gone to Cole’s friend’s wedding last year. They were a bit tight; I’d grown again.

‘No,’ I said finally. ‘Not better. She controls it. Most of the time. But when she gets bad, you have to watch her. Gets carried away, does things she wouldn’t when she’s well, but she’s not dangerous.’

Jenna took hold of my hand properly. ‘Don’t tell me if you don’t want. It’s OK.’

‘I don’t mind,’ I said, which was true, but I didn’t know why because I usually would. ‘Don’t really know what to say though.’

‘How long has she had it?’

‘Always. Since before she had me.’

‘What about your dad? Doesn’t he help?’

I shrugged. ‘Never met him. He was just some guy she got together with for a while. She does that in her manic phases. Goes out, gets a guy, shacks up with him. Then he gets fed up and clears off. That time she decided she wanted a baby so she made sure she got pregnant before he walked out.’ I looked up and Jenna tried to hide the appalled look on her face, but she wasn’t quick enough. ‘Look, I love my mum! She’s been a good mum. She can’t help being ill, and she’s not nuts. She’s got a degree in philosophy from Oxford. She taught me at home. She taught me loads up until I went and got this job. She’s not a scrounger. She earns money and looks after me and –’

‘Ryan –’

‘And people look down their noses at her, but she’s not doing anyone any harm. She’s living what she believes in. That’s nobody’s business. And the stuff I do wrong isn’t her fault. She’d kill me if she knew some of it –’

‘Ryan, shut up!’

She didn’t look appalled any more. I didn’t know what it was on her face, but I realised she had my hand in her lap now, nestled between both hers. I took a shaky breath. ‘Sorry, I don’t know where that came from.’

‘I think it’s called being bottled up,’ she said. ‘When was the last time you talked to anyone about it?’

‘Not sure. Sometime last year. Before Cole left.’

‘Who’s Cole?’

‘A guy Mum lived with. He stuck around for a few years.’

‘And you liked him.’

‘How did you know that?’

She smiled. ‘Your face. Do you miss him?’

‘Suppose. He wasn’t like all the others. We used to do stuff together. He’d take me places, like we were a proper family. I wish he was still around. There’s things I want to ask him sometimes.’

‘It sounds like you two were close.’

‘Yeah, maybe. He helped me a lot.’

‘How?’

She was so far over her three questions now, I’d lost count, but the answers slipped out anyway like I didn’t realise in time to stop them. ‘With lots of things. Like when I was younger and kids used to pick on me, he said to me it’s all about attitude. If someone’s going to give you trouble, get in first. Hit ’em hard, hit ’em fast. Don’t let them see you’re scared and they’ll back off. And he taught me to defend myself.’

Jenna smiled. ‘It’s a good thing he did if you go around hitting guys twice as wide as you.’ I laughed. She still had hold of my hand. I guess I liked it. Felt good.

‘Come on, better get you home now. Don’t want you getting in trouble for being late.’

She waited while I got the bike out of the bushes by the Rugby Club.

‘Get on.’ I nodded at the saddle and she sat on it.

‘But how are you . . . oh!’

I stepped over the crossbar and hopped up on to the pedals and got us moving before I lost my balance. ‘Hold on.’

‘Um . . . where?’

I twisted my head round. The unscarred half of her face was cherry red even under the streetlamps. My arse was wiggling around at her as I stood up on the pedals. ‘Wherever you can grab! Before you fall off.’

She put her hands on my sides and went very quiet. I concentrated on the road. It was hard work up the hill to Strenton with the weight of two to keep balanced and my thighs ached. I got off the bike when we reached the village and pushed it with Jenna still on the seat. It started to drizzle and the light on the bike caught a stream of droplets in its beam.

‘Was my bum so spectacular that it’s struck you dumb?’

She shot me a filthy look. ‘You are so full of yourself.’

‘Your place.’ I stopped the bike. She started to take my coat off. ‘Give it back tomorrow – you’ll get wet.’

She nodded and got off the bike. ‘Thanks,’ she said, shuffling and looking at the ground. ‘For everything, I mean.’

‘Yeah, well, if anyone else upsets you, you tell me and I’ll smack their teeth down their throats for you. Watching an enemy bleed always makes you feel better.’

‘You’re very good at it, aren’t you?’

‘What? Sex? Yeah, I’m amazing!’

She snorted and slapped at me, but I dodged and she laughed. I realised I liked making her laugh. She probably didn’t do it enough so it was like a little victory when I got her to.

‘No, Ryan. Looking after people.’

She surprised me with that. Was I?

‘Anyway, thank you,’ she said abruptly and hurried off round the side of her house.

I waited until I heard their door open, and voices, then I wheeled my bike down the road towards the canal bridge. It was weird, but when I thought about it, I’d had a good time while I was with her.

I wasn’t stupid. If I’d kissed her, she’d have liked it. Firstly, I knew how to make her like it. Secondly, she liked me that way, though she was too shy to show it, which was understandable. And cute too. I had a pang of regret that I hadn’t gone for it. The idea of showing her how it was supposed to be done . . . it’d be fun: she’d start off thinking it was going to be like it was with that idiot, then it wouldn’t be . . . and the surprise on her face when it wasn’t . . .