Authors: Malorie Blackman
‘I just need to talk to one of the waiters,’ said Adam, hopping off his bar stool. ‘I’ll be right back.’
That’s when I clicked.
‘Adam, no.’
‘No what?’
‘You’re not going to tell the waiters it’s my birthday. I don’t want a bowl of ice cream with a sparkler in it, thank you very much. And I sure as hell don’t want all the staff singing ‘Happy birthday’ to me.’
‘But Dante . . .’
‘Read my lips – hell, no!’
‘You’re so bloody miserable,’ said Adam, sitting back down on his chair.
My brother must be nuts if he ever thought that idea would fly. I shook my head and changed the subject. I tried talking about football but Adam didn’t know a
football from a bowling ball so I soon gave up on that one. Tennis, cricket and athletics were the only sports Adam knew anything about. As far as I was concerned, tennis was a dead loss – all the really good players ever did was serve aces, which was great for them but boring as hell to watch. Watching cricket was like watching my toenails grow and there wasn’t enough physical contact in athletics. Adam started discussing some designer or other but that was knocked on the head when he saw my eyes begin to glaze over. We moved on to rugby, some house-buying programme, motor racing and the exploits of some Hollywood superstar or other with as little success. It struck me as I struggled to find a subject we were both interested in, that we hadn’t sat and chatted, just the two of us, in quite some time. We’d drifted apart to the extent that now we seemed to have very little in common.
We finally settled on music. At last a subject where we had some overlap. Not much, but some – and I would take what I could get.
‘Hey, Dante.’
I swivelled round on my seat. Josh, Paul and Logan were behind us, waiting in the queue to be seen and seated. I was surprised to see Logan. He’d applied to do Politics and Economics at university and as far as I was aware had achieved good enough grades to get in. So what was he doing around here? Paul had found a job at a car dealership. I wasn’t sure about Josh.
‘Hey, guys,’ I said.
‘Hi, Josh,’ said Adam.
Josh didn’t even look at my brother, let alone answer
him. ‘Dante, I haven’t seen you in a while,’ he said to me.
Adam turned back to his virgin colada, looking . . . troubled.
‘Josh, my brother said hello to you.’ I frowned.
‘I know. I heard him,’ said Josh.
‘Then don’t bloody ignore him,’ I said.
‘Dante, leave it. It’s OK. Really,’ said Adam.
But it wasn’t. ‘Adam, I’m sick of Josh treating you like a window,’ I told my brother.
‘Oh, for God’s sake. Hello, Adam. How’s it going? Happy now, Dante?’
‘Ecstatic.’ Josh’s attitude towards my brother was really pissing me off. I wouldn’t let anyone treat my daughter like that, and no way was anyone going to treat my brother like that either.
‘Guys, chill,’ said Paul. ‘Jeez.’
‘So, Paul, how’s the car-dealership business?’ I asked. ‘And what the hell have you done to your hair?’
Paul’s mousy-brown hair was now the exact same colour as orange juice.
‘I fancied a change,’ shrugged Paul, running his fingers through his yellow-orange locks. ‘What d’you think?’
‘Er . . . d’you want me to be honest?’
Paul rolled his eyes. ‘Never mind.’
‘How’s the car-dealership business?’ I repeated.
‘Fine.’
‘Do you work shifts?’ I asked, wondering if they might have a job for me.
‘Are you kidding? I wouldn’t take a job where I had to
work shifts,’ scoffed Paul. ‘I’m like a vampire. I only come alive when the sun goes down.’
Get him! Like he was all that. But no job for me then.
‘What about you, Logan?’ I asked. ‘I thought you were off to uni?’
‘Not for another week,’ Logan replied.
‘Oh, I see.’
I turned back to Josh. He was staring a hole through my brother. Adam was studiously ignoring him.
‘Josh, are you OK?’ I asked.
Josh’s attention snapped back to me. ‘Yeah, I’m fine. What’ve you been up to?’
‘Looking after my daughter, Emma.’
‘What else apart from that?’ said Josh.
How ironic. I once asked Melanie what she’d been doing apart from looking after Emma. I remembered the knowing little smile she gave me. I realized what that meant now. Looking after a kid was a full-time, full-on, full-term deal. No wonder Melanie didn’t reply to my ignorance. I’m lucky she didn’t head-butt me in the stomach. I shrugged again. There was no point in putting Josh straight.
‘So what’re you guys doing here?’ asked Logan.
‘We’re celebrating Dante’s birthday,’ Adam replied before I could stop him.
I groaned inwardly.
‘Oh yeah, I meant to text you,’ said Josh. ‘Happy birthday.’
‘Thanks.’ I turned back to my ginger beer. Hopefully
Josh and the others would take the hint and head back to their place in the queue.
‘D’you guys want to join us?’ Adam astounded me by asking.
I glared at Adam, then turned to see their response. Paul was grinning like it was the best idea since the invention of the wheel. Logan was watching Josh, who in turn looked just as uncomfortable as I felt. Josh didn’t want us to group up any more than I did.
‘Yeah, OK,’ said Logan before either Josh or I could find an excuse.
What the hell was Adam playing at? Why on earth had he invited them to join us? He didn’t even like Josh.
We had to wait ten minutes longer as there were now five of us instead of two but at last we were shown to a table, which was actually two square tables pushed together. I sat with Adam on one side of me and Logan on the other. Josh was seated opposite Adam, with Paul next to him. The conversation began tentatively at first, but before long we were having a laugh and a joke, just like old times. And it wasn’t too bad, at first. The only trouble was, my mates were knocking back lager like it was water, so by the time our starters made it to the table they were feeling no pain. More drinks with the starters and after the starters so that by the time our main courses arrived, chips were flying around the table like insults. Embarrassed, I looked around. We were the focus of all attention and if looks could kill we’d all be embalmed by now. The waiters and waitresses were giving us dirty looks too. If the others kept this up we’d be booted out.
‘Guys, it’s my birthday. I don’t want to be chucked out of the Bar Belle on my birthday,’ I tried to reason with them.
I could’ve been talking to the cutlery for all the good it did.
Adam was tucking into a plate of rabbit food – I think it was called a Caesar salad on the menu – whilst grinning at the antics of the others, like chucking food around was the funniest joke he’d heard in a while. Me? I was just annoyed.
‘Josh, can I try one of your chips?’ Adam asked, his hand already on Josh’s plate.
Josh grabbed Adam’s wrist, twisting it viciously. ‘I don’t want your hand in my food, you queer son-of-a-bitch.’
‘Josh . . .’ Adam gasped out.
Silence descended on our table like a ton of bricks. I was having trouble drawing breath. Adam’s whole body slumped. He bent his head. Instinctively I knew he was mere moments away from tears.
I pushed back my chair. ‘Josh, let go of my brother.
Now
.’
Josh was scowling at Adam with such intense hatred it flowed over everyone at the table like lava. I was on my feet. Josh let go of Adam’s wrist. Adam pulled back his arm, rubbing his left wrist with his right hand, his head still bent.
‘Sorry, Dante, but I don’t want your brother touching my food,’ said Josh, adding viciously, ‘God knows what I might catch.’
I moved towards Josh, ready to smash his head off the table, but Adam jumped up and barred my way.
‘Adam, move,’ I ordered.
‘Dan, no. Don’t. He’s not worth it,’ Adam told me. ‘He’s just a coward, a scared little kid afraid of everything and everyone.’
But I barely heard my brother. I wanted to do my talking with my fists. If only Adam would move out of the damned way.
‘Don’t you ever talk to my brother like that again,’ I hissed at Josh.
‘Josh, what did Adam mean?’ Logan asked. ‘Is there something you want to tell us?’
Nostrils flaring, Josh was on his feet. Now if my bloody brother would only move.
‘If you gentlemen can’t behave, I’m afraid I must ask you to leave.’ The manager appeared from nowhere to stand at our table. Behind her were three burly waiters who looked as if they’d like nothing better than to toss us all out on our ears.
‘Come on, guys,’ said Josh, pushing his plate of steak and chips away in disgust. ‘I’ve lost my appetite anyway.’
I looked around the table. Paul wore an expression of consternation, no doubt wondering how he could be having a laugh and a food fight one minute and be on the verge of a real fight the next. Josh’s lips were clamped together, his fists clenched at his side. And I was more than ready for him. But it was Logan who made me pause. He was smiling. Not laughing at me and Adam, and the effect Josh’s words had had on us.
No, he was
smiling
.
A slight, secret smile that was directed solely at Josh.
Paul was already on his feet. Logan was the last to stand. He and I exchanged a look of mutual loathing as he headed out of the restaurant after Josh and Paul.
Adam sat back down at the table, his head bent. I placed a hand on my brother’s shoulder. He was shaking and trying his best to hide it.
Good riddance
, I thought, as I watched the others swagger out.
Until I realized they’d stuck me with the damned bill.
Bastards.
‘You should’ve let me pummel him.’ I was still fuming as Adam and I walked home.
Paying the bill had wiped me out. Even with the money Dad had given me for our night out, being stuck with the bill for three extra meals meant I had to break out my plastic. My bank account was now empty and I had no idea where my next penny was coming from. But that was nothing compared to the rage I still felt at all the things Josh had said to my brother. Even now Josh’s words burned holes in my head. Adam hadn’t said much since the others walked out of the Bar Belle. Scratch that – he’d barely said anything at all. Mind you, I wasn’t in a particularly chatty mood myself. I wanted . . . no, I
needed
to get home. Thankfully we were almost there. A couple more minutes and we’d be indoors. At that moment, all I wanted was to hold my daughter and to try and make sense of the world – in that order. All I wanted was to . . .
Time stopped.
Darkness. Then crashing lights behind my eyes.
I was lying on the pavement, my head pounding, giant bells pealing relentlessly in my ears. I struggled to stand up,
only to be knocked flat again. The pain in my head was screaming at me.
It took a moment or two to realize why I couldn’t move. Someone was kneeling on my legs and my arms were being pulled back.
I raised my head. Josh was standing directly in front of my brother, pushing him backwards until Adam’s back was against the brick wall that made up the side of the house at the end of our road. And still Josh kept pushing my brother, keeping him off balance.
‘Josh, stop it. Leave him alone!’ I yelled desperately.
Josh turned to laugh at me, which just made Logan and Paul pull even harder on my arms. A fiery shriek of pain kept shooting up and down my arms and across my back. They were going to pull my arms out of their sockets. If I could just get one arm free . . . One hand, that was all I needed. But the pain in my arms was nothing compared to what was going on inside me as I watched Josh and my brother.
Every time Adam tried to straighten up, Josh pushed him back against the wall. But that didn’t stop my brother from still trying to straighten up. And Adam never took his eyes off Josh. Not once.
‘You’re disgusting, you little fairy. You’re a filthy little queer. You make my skin crawl,’ Josh hissed.
Each word hurt me like a vicious punch. I flinched from every insult.
But Adam didn’t say a word.
‘Poof. Queer. Shirt-lifter.’ Josh went through every derogatory name he could think of to chuck at my brother
and each name was punctuated with another shove. Each word roared inside my head like some savage beast. I bucked and heaved but Paul and Logan didn’t loosen their grip for a second.
‘Josh, leave him alone, you shit-head . . .’
And then Adam did something that made the world stop in its tracks. He pushed Josh’s hand aside and, leaning forward, he kissed him.
Adam kissed Josh full on the lips.
Paul and Logan forgot to yank at my arms. I forgot to struggle. Josh forgot to speak, forgot how to move. But only for a moment.
Just a moment.
Then hell erupted.
Josh lost it.
There was no other way to describe it. He cried out before lunging at my brother. His hands morphed into fists and he battered at my brother, punching Adam’s face over and over. Adam put his arms up to try and protect himself but it was no use. Josh was beating the crap out of him. Adam fell to the ground, curling into a ball, his arms still up by his head. And Josh was punching and kicking him with not even a second’s pause between blows. I struggled like a madman to get free to help my brother, but I was still on the ground, being pinned down. Logan was kneeling on my back. Paul shifted to kneel on my legs. They were going to snap my spine or my legs or both. They were both getting in the odd punch or two or three whilst I lay there, struggling and helpless. Josh was upright now, kicking my brother’s head, stomping on it, over and over.
‘You always thought you were better than us. Gonna go to university, gonna be a journalist and write about the truth,’ Logan hissed in my ear. ‘Look at you. The truth is you’re a no-life, low-life with a kid and no job and a queer for a brother.’
I bucked and heaved and tried to kick out but I was down and out. All I could do was turn my head. All I could see was Josh and my brother.
‘GET OFF HIM. JOSH, YOU BASTARD, GET OFF HIM. STOP. FOR GOD’S SAKE. YOU’RE KILLING HIM!’
All I had were words but they weren’t getting through . . . Josh was still beating on my brother. Blood dripped off Josh’s fists.