Together Apart (13 page)

He flicked through the remaining pages of the diary.
Undying
love for Richard and sexual awakening seemed to be the
overwhelming
content behind Sarah’s neat, joined-up writing. He didn’t want to read it. He’d already stepped over a line when he’d opened the first page of her diaries. He didn’t need to know about the ins and outs of her sex life with Richard as well. There were some things he was better off not knowing.

18.

27 October

O
h God. This cannot be happening. I feel sick. Like I could throw up and keep going until I puke myself to death. Someone
please
tell me what I’m supposed to do now? This is the worst thing that could possibly happen.

A baby. Shit!

So much for not writing it down in order not to jinx myself. I knew as soon as I told Claire that it would become real. That I’d have to do a test instead of simply pretending my period had forgotten to show up because I’ve been so stressed out. Maybe that’s why I told her, because we both know what happens when you let something like that brew until it’s too late. I just didn’t want to believe it could be true. Never mind that Adam and I are over or that I’m skint or that soon I won’t have anywhere to live. I just can’t do this. I can’t be pregnant. Not again.

The stupid thing is that I don’t even have any symptoms. No morning sickness, no swollen boobs – nothing. And I know you don’t need to show symptoms for it to be true, but still. I don’t want to believe it. I can’t believe it. There can’t be a tiny mass of cells
multiplying
inside of me. There just can’t be.

Pregnant. The test said it, as clear as day. None of this ‘one line for negative, two lines for positive’ crap. There’s no getting away from it – it literally spelled it out. P R E G N A N T. Like a slap in the face. I was waiting for the ‘not’ to pop up in the window, like it was some kind of sick joke. I was convinced it was faulty. It wasn’t. The second test in the pack showed the same result, and the other four tests I’ve taken since. And to make it even more messed up, Adam came home right after I’d taken the last one. I had to hide in the bathroom until the panic began to subside.

I can’t cope with this. There’s just no way.

What’s wrong with me? Why did my bloody stupid egg accept his over-eager sperm? I take the pill every single day, first thing in the morning. I never miss one. Ever. Sure, it’s only 99 per cent effective, but did I really have to end up in the 1 per cent? It’s not fair.

I wish I didn’t feel like this. I wish I could be happy about
having
a baby with him, but I’m not. I’m scared stiff, and I don’t want this baby. I don’t deserve it. More than that, I’m doing it a favour. I know it sounds heartless, but it’s true. It’s taken years for me to feel even remotely normal again.

I can’t go through all of that a second time.

19.

A
dam looked at the diaries in the box. He’d only just scratched the surface, but he was determined to find out the secret Sarah had been hiding all this time. When he read her diaries, it was almost as if he could hear her voice, like she was sitting next to him, narrating them. He could picture her face, mirroring the
emotions
she wrote about. It was like he’d been living with a two-
dimensional
version of her, and now she was becoming a real, full person. Once she opened up, the Sarah he knew was quietly
confident
, but her fourteen-year-old self ? She had been completely different. He c
ould almo
st feel her effervescence leaping from the page with every word he read. She was rebellious, wily and carefree. What had happened between then and now?

It was a strange way to get to know your girlfriend, but it was a means to an end. He shook his head.
Ex
-girlfriend. Whatever. It didn’t matter. The anticipation he felt when he picked the diaries up in his hand – it was exactly the same as he’d felt when they first got together, when she’d walk up to him outside a Tube station or in a bar. He was getting to know her. He couldn’t stop now.

18 December 1998

Wow, I haven’t written anything for ages! I don’t know where the time’s gone. Well, actually I do. I’ve been spending it with Richard. We’re totally inseparable now, and we meet every day after school before going to his house. It’s a bloody pain in the arse because it takes forever to get there, but it’s so worth it. We have so much fun together, listening to music, talking and going for walks in the Peak District. I can’t believe that. Me, in hiking boots. But it’s really beautiful and romantic, and even though his parents are cool with me spending time there, it’s nice to be by ourselves.

I can’t believe how lucky I am. You hear about girls who lose their virginity and then get dumped straight away. Not me. I’ve avoided all that, and I’m convinced it’s because I waited until he came along instead of settling for someone else. Richard makes
me smi
le so much my face hurts. I’m deliriously happy, and he totally takes my mind off the crap going on at home.

Peter is in a permanent rage with me. Still. I mean, really? Get over it already. I don’t care, anyway. I promised myself that I would start doing what I wanted, and that’s exactly what I’ve been doing. He tried grounding me again, but it hasn’t worked. I stay out after school, and I come home whenever I feel like it, whether I’m grounded or not. He took my keys off me about a week ago. I actually couldn’t believe Mum let him do that. She just let him snatch them off me. Whatever. I’m not bothered. I don’t need a key to get in. That’s what windows are for.

I’ve started skipping the last lesson so I can take the bus into town because he’s started coming to school to pick me up. It’s great. He’s livid when I get home late at night because, for all the t
hings he
does to try and stop me from going out, I’ve found ways to
outsmart
him, and he clearly doesn’t like it – not one little bit.

I don’t meet Richard at City Hall anymore. Peter figured out that it was where my friends hung out, and he started showing up there too, like a mental stalker. He just wouldn’t leave me alone. I think he’s got the message now, though. We had a huge argument yesterday because I stayed overnight at Richard’s without asking him first. I told Claire what I was doing, and she said she would tell Mum. She’s pissing me off by letting Peter do what he wants, but she’s still my mum. I didn’t want her to be worried about me. I’m not
that
irresponsible. Peter was just annoyed because I hadn’t told him. He’s a control freak. He has to be in charge of absolutely everything. He decides what we eat for dinner, what’s watched on the television, even who uses the bloody bathroom first in the
mornings
.

I told him what I thought about him last night. I told him that he wasn’t my dad and never would be. I also said that I would never do anything he told me to, and as far as I was concerned, he didn’t exist. He didn’t like that at all. He threatened to chuck me out, but for once, Mum stepped in. It’s the first time she’s ever stood up to him – at least in front of me.

Things have also got much better with me and Claire. It’s crazy to think that just a few months ago, I couldn’t wait to have a room of my own. For ages, all I wanted was my own space and distance from her, but now I wish we still shared a room. We stay up late chatting and stuff. She’s slept in my bed a few times, and I’ve slept in hers. It’s funny. She’s always been here, but it’s only now that we’ve got our own rooms that I’ve realised how much I like having her around.

24 December 1998

Somehow, I don’t think tomorrow’s going to be a day to remember. There are no presents under the tree for me this year. Peter’s taking Mum to Israel next year for her Christmas gift. I think a part of me didn’t really believe that he was being serious when he suggested it, but it seems I was wrong. Claire opted out, and he didn’t even ask me if I wanted to go. He said it’s a treat and my ‘behaviour’ wasn’t deserving of a holiday. Big deal! I’d rather eat glass than go on some lame trip. Mum’s best friend is going to keep an eye on us. She only lives a couple of doors up. It’s just a shame I have to wait until next year for them to go!

I can’t believe he would be so stupid, leaving two teenage girls on their own for a week. If he really thinks we’re going to just go to school and come home again every day, he’s in for a bloody shock. We’re going to have the party to end all parties. For once, we’ll be the cool ones. And it means I’ll be able to spend a whole week with Richard. How great is that? I know it’s ages away yet, but we’ll still be together; I know that for sure.

I hope he likes his present. I couldn’t really afford anything much since Peter’s totally stopped my pocket money, so Claire lent me some. I found a nice silver tobacco tin in a second-hand shop in town. It didn’t cost much, but it looks pretty old and valuable. I wonder what he got me.

25 December 1998

Christmas Day. What a load of crap. Mum and that dickhead Peter spent the morning at church, leaving me and Claire alone to sort out our breakfast. There were no presents for me – at least not from them. Surprise, surprise. Peter holds the purse strings, as Mum stopped working when they got married, so he’s the only one with any money coming in.

Claire got matching necklaces for me and her with heart-shaped pendants on them, which was nice. We used to get each other things like bath salts, and it was all very impersonal. It’s annoying that now we’ve got close again, I can’t afford to get her anything half decent.

I miss Richard. I bet his Christmases are full of fun and laughter, like Christmas should be. They used to be like that when Dad was alive. Me and Claire went to visit his grave this morning. Mum doesn’t come with us anymore, but I know she still goes up there. There are always fresh flowers on his headstone. If only he were here now. I bloody hate Christmas.

26 December 1998

I feel sick. Something’s going on, I know it. Richard cancelled on me this morning. We were meant to spend the day together, but he phoned and said he wasn’t feeling well, so we’d see each other on New Year’s Eve instead. That’s a whole five days away! I don’t understand why he wants to leave it that long. How can he wait that long? It’s not like we can’t meet up tomorrow or something. I’m going crazy over here. I miss him so much. I hope he’s not going off me!

28 December 1998

I saw Daniel in town today. It was really weird. He asked if I’ve spoken to Richard. Why would he ask that? It was like he knew something I didn’t, and now I feel really paranoid. I asked if
he’d spo
ken to him, but he didn’t say anything. I know something’s wrong. Richard hasn’t been to town, and he’s always in the shower or something whenever I call him. I don’t know what I’ve done to make him go off me like he has, and I
know
he
has. It’s
obvious he’s avoiding me, and I don’t know why! What have I done wrong?

31 December 1998

I actually spoke to him today, which was a miracle because I thought he’d dropped off the face of the earth since Christmas Eve. He called like nothing had even happened and asked if I was going to Corp tonight. I said no because firstly, I have no money at all, and second, it’s ticket only, and I haven’t got one. He said I could go to his instead because his parents would be out at some fancy ball, and I really wanted to tell him to stuff it. I love him and everything, but I didn’t want him to think he could just ignore me for ages and then come back whenever he felt like it. But I couldn’t. Just hearing his voice again made me melt.

1 January 1999, 4.30 a.m.

Happy Fucking New Year. I want to curl up and die. There’s just no bloody point to anything – not when it all turns to shit.

Richard’s leaving. His dad’s got a new job in New York, and he starts at the end of February. That’s two months away. He said he’d known it might be happening for a while but didn’t want to say anything in case it never did. It was confirmed on Boxing Day. What a great bloody gift that is.

I was really happy this morning. I mean, I was still annoyed at him, but I hadn’t seen him for ages, and really, there was no point in being pissed off about something so small. I was really excited to see him.

We had sex when I got there, and it was amazing. It felt so special, and I nearly cried afterwards because I was so relieved that we were still together, and all my worrying had just been paranoia. I thought the time was right to tell him that I loved him, even if he didn’t say it back. I was like a volcano waiting to erupt – I couldn’t hold it in anymore, so I said it, and as soon as I did, everything changed.

Seriously, as soon as those words were out of my mouth, he got out of the bed, pulled on his jeans and started rolling a spliff. I thought he was going to tell me he didn’t love me back, and I swear to God, my heart was pounding so hard I thought it would crack my ribs right open. That’s when he told me. He just mentioned it as if he was talking about the weather.

‘We’re moving to America,’ he said, and my world fell apart.

He said the reason he hadn’t wanted to see me until now was because he didn’t know how to tell me. He said that he doesn’t want to go, but he has no choice, and if he could, he would stay here because he loves me too.

He said it. It was exactly what I’d wanted to hear, but it didn’t make me feel happy like I hoped it would because it doesn’t fucking matter if he loves me. In a couple of months’ time, he won’t be here. He’ll be thousands of miles away.

Right now, I’m sitting on the floor in his room. He’s asleep in bed, and I feel so alone. Everything was going so well, and now it’s been ripped to shreds. I’m trying not to cry because if I do, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.