Authors: Eleanor Wood
Elyse squeezes my hand as I’m leaving and looks at me like she might even understand, and Mel hugs me for longer than she needs to. Shimmi is the only one who seems really put out, completely oblivious.
As soon as I make it outside, I breathe in what feels like relief. I decide to go and wait at the end of the street – from there I can flag my mum down on the main road and make sure she gets the right turning.
I’m actually quite enjoying the fresh air when I hear someone running up behind me. My shoulders inadvertently tighten as my mind flashes back to running along the river last night, mysterious footsteps and figures in the moonlight.
‘Sorana, wait,’ Shimmi pants, red in the face and laden down with bags. ‘Do you think your mum could give me a lift home as well?’
‘What about your fictional “maths camp”? Won’t your dad be suspicious?’
‘Nah – I’ll make something up. I’ll say it wasn’t advanced enough, and I’d be far better off studying by myself all weekend.’
It occurs to me that, if she goes home, then this is exactly what she will be doing – studying by herself in her room, or if she’s lucky helping out with the Saturday night shift at the restaurant.
‘So, what changed your mind all of a sudden? A few minutes ago, you seemed so annoyed that I was leaving…’
Shimmi shrugs and at least has the good grace to look a tiny bit embarrassed.
‘Well, I just suddenly felt sort of…stuck there. You know, I’m not even sure when their dad’s coming back, so how am I going to get home? The buses out here don’t run on a Sunday, and I can’t afford a taxi all that way. I might be stranded there tomorrow, and then I really would be dead meat. I’m on thin ice as it is, you know. I just thought I should get out with you while I had the chance.’
Shimmi’s not usually as cautious as this and it makes me wonder whether she has some of the same worries that I do. I’m weirdly relieved. I’ve had this bad feeling lately that I’m losing Shimmi, like she’s heading off in another wrong direction. This feels like a small step towards getting her back. I’m so happy that we are friends with Elyse and Mel now, but there are some things that I don’t want to change too much. Typical Gemini – I want to have my cake and eat the whole thing.
I want to talk to her about all this, but I’m not sure whether I should, or even where to start. So, instead, when we get to the end of the road, we both stay quiet as we chuck our bags on the ground and lean against the street sign.
It’s nice outside, and I close my eyes for a moment to make the most of the milky sunshine. When I open them again, I see that Shimmi is doing exactly the same thing. It’s kind of nice, it being the two of us again, just briefly. Although she drives me mad, and I have always complained that we don’t really have a lot in common, I feel comfortable with Shimmi. I know I can trust the fact that she is a nice person and truly my mate.
However, now it’s just the two of us here, it makes me feel even stranger about not seeing Nathalie. I resolve in my head, admittedly not for the first time, that I really must speak to her and get things sorted out.
Sitting there with Shimmi, both basking in the sunshine, I suspect that she is thinking all the same things and I’m about to open my mouth to try and have a serious chat with her. Then, my mum’s car approaches and we both jump up and gather our bags.
‘Hi, Mum. Thanks so much for coming to collect us. Is it OK if we give Shimmi a lift home, too?’
‘No problem – it’s on the way.’
Mum sounds like she’s being all cool and ‘whatever’, but she gives me a funny sideways glance. I try to give her a look back that tells her I know she’s doing me a big favour and I’ll talk to her later. I think it works because she doesn’t say anything for now – but I know that’s coming once we’ve dropped Shimmi off.
It doesn’t help that when we get to Shimmi’s house, Shimmi looks around very suspiciously, then quickly slinks out of the car and barely says goodbye. I can’t exactly explain to her why Shimmi’s acting like a complete weirdo as well. Fortunately, Shimmi seems to have got away with it and I breathe a sigh of relief on my friend’s behalf.
‘So, did you girls have a fight or something?’ Mum asks as soon as it’s just the two of us.
I’ve been mentally rehearsing possible reasons why I suddenly wanted to come home in such melodramatic style, but my brain has gone empty. It’s like there’s no clear reason that I could say out loud. Maybe, ‘Oh, it was OK and we didn’t get into a fight, but the creepy boy next door was spying on us and attacked Elyse; then I had to jump in the river in the middle of the night, and I’m still not sure why, but it’s making me feel weird and uncomfortable and I just wanted to escape.’ Yeah, right.
‘No, we didn’t have a fight, exactly. I just… I just really wanted to come home.’
As I say it, the nearest thing to the truth that I can manage, I find that my chin is suddenly wobbling and my voice has gone all croaky, and I can’t hold back the tears building up in the back of my throat. I try my hardest to fight it, but I can feel my face crumpling in on itself and my eyes are brimming until they overflow.
Mum pulls the car over and silently rubs my back as she waits for me to stop, although I can see the obvious concern on her face.
‘Sorry. I’m fine,’ I say superfluously, as soon as I have recovered enough to speak. ‘I’m fine. I just wanted to come home. That
is
all right, isn’t it?’
‘Of course it’s all right, sweetie. Listen, Pete and Daisy have gone to the garden centre – why don’t you and I go out and have a cup of coffee, just the two of us?’
‘OK.’
‘Do you want to go home and get cleaned up first? By the way, sorry if you’re rocking some cool new teenage look that I’m far too ancient to understand – but why are you wearing your school skirt?’
Mum and I are in the crowded, vintage-y tearoom on the high street, and I’m back in a clean pair of leggings and my favourite stripy hoodie. In fact, I’m feeling almost human again. It’s nice to be out with my mum, just the two of us.
Mum obviously wanted to know why all of my clothes were soaking wet and covered with mud. I had to tell her the truth – that I fell in the river – although I was sketchy on the details. Now that she’s stopped pursing her lips and asking me if I’m OK, and I’ve stopped crying uncontrollably like a certified moron, we’re having a nice time.
‘I remember exactly what it was like being your age,’ she’s saying. ‘It’s such a weird time. In a year or two you’ll be out in the real world, but at the moment you’re stuck.’
We grin at each other and I am reminded that my mum really does know what it’s like – sort of.
‘It kind of sucks,’ I admit. ‘Not all the time, but quite a lot of the time.’
‘I know. And I know it doesn’t really help right now, but it will get better. A lot better, and quickly. Without wanting to patronise you, all these things that seem so important – boys, social life, what girls at school think – actually aren’t.’
‘Easily said when you don’t have to live through it every day – those are the things that can decide whether or not life’s bearable at my age.’
‘Yeah, but it’s so temporary. It won’t be long before you’ll be leaving school, and everything will open up for you if you get your priorities straight now. I just wish I’d known that.’
‘What, “do as I say, not as I do”, right?’
‘OK, OK, something like that. But when I was your age, I was obsessed with boys and going out and not much else. If I’d just kept my head down and worked hard for a couple of years – which is nothing in the scheme of things, believe me – then I would have made life so much easier for myself. I’ve had to work my backside off ever since, to make up for slacking when I was your age.’
The thing is, I know this is true. My mum had me when she was way too young, and then she was a single mother within about five minutes; all my early memories are of her working two jobs and taking evening classes. In fact, it’s only in the last few years – since she met Pete and worked her way up in her job – that things have really calmed down. As well as it making life at home easier, I’m really pleased and proud for her.
‘Well, it’s a good thing I’m more geeky and sensible than you ever were, then,’ I say with a laugh. ‘And that I’m too scrawny and flat-chested for a boy ever to look twice at me. So you don’t need to worry. Anyway…thanks, Mum. Really, thanks.’
I mean it. Even though all my problems still exist, I actually do feel so much better. When we arrive home, Pete and Daisy are already in the kitchen, eating Jaffa Cakes while they construct some complicated mystery structure. They both look guilty the second that Mum and I enter the room.
‘That had better not be what I think it is,’ Mum says as a strange noise emanates from behind Daisy’s back. ‘Don’t make me regret sending you two to the garden centre on your own – please!’
Pete looks more scared of Mum than Daisy does. He pretends to duck for cover as Daisy produces a squeaking fluffy bundle from behind her back.
‘This is Daniel!’ she declares proudly, with only a hint of doubt at Mum’s expression. ‘He was so sweet, we
had
to buy him. I’m going to look after him by myself, so you don’t need to worry about that, and we’re building a hutch for him. We thought he could live in the garage so that he doesn’t get too cold.’
‘I see. A guinea pig in the garage. No, we certainly wouldn’t want him to get too cold,’ Mum says. ‘Very responsible, Pete – acting your age as usual, I see.’
‘You see, Lucy, it wasn’t really my…’ Pete protests half-heartedly, clearly unable to say ‘no’ to any of the women in his life and not realising until now that this could get him into a whole world of trouble.
Mum’s trying not to laugh and I’ve practically never seen Daisy look so happy – she’s had the treat of a whole afternoon with Pete, and she knows that nobody’s really going to send her new pet back to the garden centre. It’s a win-win sort of a day for her, really.
‘You two are going to clean out the hutch together every week!’ is all Mum says in the end. ‘I’m telling you right now, I am not getting involved – ever!’
For the rest of the afternoon, Daisy plays with Daniel – she tells me that he’s named after Daniel LaRusso from
The Karate Kid
, as if this is a logical name for a small rodent. Meanwhile, Pete comically sucks up to Mum while she pretends to be cross but isn’t really. I pad around the house barefoot, watching a bit of TV and reading my book and eating snacks as the mood takes me. It feels like ages since I’ve spent a Saturday just chilling at home, and I’m surprised at how nice it feels.
Later, I help Mum make spaghetti bolognese for dinner. In exchange for my chopping and stirring skills, she lets me play Trouble Every Day over the iPod speaker in the kitchen, while we both drink a glass of wine. She makes me skip some of the noisier tracks, but actually even sings along to some of the more radio-friendly ones – living with me means that my family are all practically Trouble Every Day experts. They could probably tell you Vincent August’s star sign — Sagittarius — and middle name — Edward — if you asked them.
We eat a massive dinner – with chocolate mousse for pudding, and another bottle of wine for Mum and Pete, as it’s a Saturday-night treat – and then settle down for an evening of rubbish telly.
It’s only late that night, when I’m going to bed after watching Pete’s carefully chosen film for the evening –
Rear Window
– that I think of my friends and what might be going on in the outside world. Shimmi is probably just finishing up the Saturday-night shift in her dad’s restaurant. Then I try to picture the twins, on their own in that big house by the river – and I draw a total blank.
Sadly, I have even less idea of what Jago might be doing, although he drifts into my mind all the same. I picture him playing his guitar, listening to Trouble Every Day, looking gorgeous in unspecified surroundings. Pure habit makes me think briefly of Josh as well – probably at some house party with Lexy.
Nathalie, however, I can picture – even if she is still giving me the silent treatment. Her parents are probably out and she’s alone in her gigantic mansion. I visualise this with a pang of guilt. I actually really miss staying over at Nathalie’s house and hanging out with her.
Finally, instead of just procrastinating and generally being crap, I pick up my mobile and actually call Nathalie. The phone rings and rings and rings, before it eventually cuts off without even going to voicemail. That’s strange – Nathalie is usually right on her phone like Velcro, much as I would be if I had a brand-new shiny iPhone like hers. Although we haven’t really talked in a while, I’m kind of surprised that she’s not answering by now. Surely she’s got to agree that this cold war we’ve got going on is getting out of control.
It’s definitely too late to ring her landline. So, I hastily thumb a text message, saying ‘hi’ and that I hope all is cool with her – bit of a lame cop-out, I know, but at least it should go some way towards us just being normal when she’s back at school on Monday. She’s got to be back at school on Monday; it feels like it’s been ages.
Before I go to sleep, I decide to try her mobile once more – the more I think about it, the more not speaking to Nathalie is bothering me – but it just rings and rings until the line goes dead.
I suppose that after such a quiet end to the weekend, going back into the gladiatorial ring of school on Monday was always going to be a rude awakening.
The morning starts off pretty normally. Getting up stupidly early, my mum shouting that we’re running late, reading
Generation X
at my desk before anyone else has even turned up for the day. Thankfully, when Shimmi and the twins show up, no one is being noticeably weird or offhand with each other. Elyse is being extra-nice to me – it makes me feel better that, for all her faults, she cares about our friendship as much as I do. That’s the thing with Elyse, whether or not it’s written in the stars like she thinks it is, we definitely have a special bond.
So, I can breathe a sigh of relief as we all gather around my desk to discuss such pressing matters as a new Trouble Every Day download and whether we might be able to get into some festivals to see them over the summer holidays. I notice that Mel is quietly poring over one of her notebooks, but I don’t pay too much attention. Now that it’s daylight on a normal school day, everything seems so much less sinister that I can scarcely even remember what my problem was.
When Miss Webb comes in to take registration, I don’t notice at first that she seems to be looking very strangely, at me in particular. It’s only when she asks Shimmi and me to stay behind that I fully realise something is not quite right. The weird thing is, I genuinely don’t know what this is about. Surely if I’d done something awful, I’d know about it. After the chat I had with Miss Webb last week, I thought I was in the clear.
‘Come and sit at the front here, girls,’ she begins.
The empty space between us and the teacher is suddenly huge now that everybody else has gone.
‘I’m afraid this isn’t easy,’ Miss Webb continues. ‘First of all, I’ve got some horrible news.’
I hold my breath, and I can sense Shimmi doing the same.
‘You both know that Nathalie Al-Omar hasn’t been at school for the past few days…’
Shamefully, it only now occurs to me that I never got a reply to my text and Nathalie wasn’t here again for school this morning; I’ve got too used to her not being around.
‘Nathalie has been having some serious problems at the moment, as I believe you may be aware. We had a call from her parents this morning. Nathalie’s in hospital – she tried to kill herself over the weekend.’
It’s like the floor has opened up and I’m falling through it. Miss Webb goes on to tell us that Nathalie took a whole pack of her mum’s sleeping pills, along with a bottle of vodka, while her parents were out to dinner on Saturday night. When they got home they found her unconscious, and she had to be rushed to hospital to have her stomach pumped.
Apparently she’s lucky to be alive – despite her own dreadful intentions – but she’s still in the hospital and will be for at least the next few days. They’re doing psychiatric tests and talking about counselling and therapy, as well as keeping an eye on her physical state. Although she’s alive, they don’t know yet if there will be any lasting damage.
‘Now, I’m sad to say that this isn’t all of it…’
Seriously? What else can it be after that?
‘Nathalie wrote a note, explaining her actions, which her parents found. Needless to say, they are taking this extremely seriously. I can’t tell you the full contents of it, as it’s private, but there have been some very disturbing allegations of bullying in this class, which Nathalie’s parents are understandably keen to investigate.’
Shimmi and I look at each other in dawning horror. There is the longest pause while we try to make sense of what Miss Webb is telling us.
‘But… I don’t get it,’ Shimmi croaks.
It’s not much, but I’m glad she can talk at all because I can’t.
‘There was some more general material about the class as a whole, but in particular Nathalie went into some detail about how the two of you have turned on her – that you’ve gone from being her friends to ganging up and bullying her. She’s been staying off school because it’s been unbearable for her. She’s so isolated she’s even been eating her lunch by herself in the old cricket pavilion!’
‘But she’s always done that – that’s nothing to do with us!’ I find myself arguing.
I realise I sound awful, but it was the first thing that came into my head. I really want to say that I’ve been meaning to put a stop to this for ages, that I tried to ring her on Saturday night – if I’d been an hour or two earlier then everything would have been fine. But there’s no point to me saying that because it doesn’t count. Nobody would believe me, anyway.
More than anything, though, I simply can’t believe that I’ve caused so much pain to another person and not even noticed. I spend so much of my time feeling crap and inferior, it wouldn’t even occur to me that I can be on the other side as well. Just because Amie Bellairs is a bitch to me every single day, doesn’t make me a nice person.
I have made someone feel so shit that she wants to die. It doesn’t matter if it’s because of what I’ve done or what I haven’t done. Both are unforgivable. I am a coward and a bitch and this is
all my fault
. It’s always been me who sticks up for Nathalie, lets her copy my homework and tries to make her feel better about Shimmi constantly snarking at her. What’s happened to me lately that I didn’t help, or even notice how bad this had become?
Miss Webb is looking at me like she’s hoping I’ll say it’s all been a big mix-up and I’m not actually an evil bitch, but I can’t. I don’t have anything to say. I just look away.
‘Look, we take anything of this nature very seriously indeed. We can’t have any sort of bullying in our school; it won’t be tolerated. But, I have to say – I’m surprised. I always thought you were two of the more kind and thoughtful girls in this class. I’m really shocked and disappointed, but I will speak up for you if I need to. If there’s anything you want to say in your defence, you need to tell me right now so that I can help you.’
We are both silent. There is no defence and we know it. Miss Webb is staring at me in particular, and after our talk just the other day I can’t help but feel ashamed that I’ve let her down. She’s clearly thinking the same thing, as she looks appalled at what I’ve done and I don’t blame her.
So, of course then comes the final blow.
‘We’ve had to ring your parents. We’ve asked them to come in for a meeting this morning.’
Although this is not good news, I feel so shocked about what’s happened to Nathalie that I’m pretty much numb. I can’t even summon the extra emotion to worry about myself. However, although this is pretty bad for me – for poor Shim, it’s really not exaggerating to say that it’s the end of the world. Not only will it be impossible to keep this from her dad, but it means he’s bound to find out about all the other secrets – jumping out of the window and skiving off school, inevitable questions about where she ended up with those dubious men, and that there was no ‘maths camp’ last weekend.
She turns pale and, for pretty much the first time since I’ve known her, looks like she’s going to break down and sob. Shimmi Miah without her cheekiness and bravado is not a sight I ever wanted to see. Miss Webb leads us down the stairs to the headmistress’s office and it’s like being taken down to the execution.
Still, all I can think is that I probably deserve everything I get, and it’s still not enough. It’s still not as bad for me as it must have been for Nathalie.
Seeing my mum’s face at school on a Monday morning is one of the worst things ever. In fact, it’s right up there with seeing my best friend sprawled out naked on a stranger’s bed. This past week has brought quite a few bad sights, now I come to think of it.
I know that Shimmi must have been praying that her mum would be there rather than her dad; on a slightly lesser scale, I was hoping that Pete might be with my mum. His presence would dilute everything just enough to make it more palatable; me and Mum alone together is way too much. Shimmi and I are both flat out of luck.
Despite the enormity of the situation, I find myself thinking that Mum must be livid to be called out of work with no notice like this. It only adds to my shame, until I can hardly look her in the face. I hate myself, so I really don’t blame her if she hates me.
The whole meeting is one horrible blur, and I’m quite relieved not to be able to take in too much of what is said. All of the words that Miss Webb says, all of the horrible details being repeated in front of our parents, make it sound so much worse. So black and white, rather than the complicated shades of grey I know this situation really is. I don’t recognise myself in any of this – I feel as though they could be talking about Amie or Lexy, maybe even Shimmi, anyone but me.
The whole meeting doesn’t really come to any conclusion or do any good. How can it? Like Miss Webb, the headmistress, concedes; that we are good, bright ‘scholarship girls’ – which, of course, makes it all the more ‘disappointing’ – and that this needs to be investigated properly when Nathalie is back at school and her parents are available. So, we are eventually told we can go back to our normal lessons and that there will be further meetings. I’m amazed we haven’t been suspended or even expelled, but I suppose it’s more complicated than that.
So, we’re free to go, but that feels weirder than ever. It’s almost like I
want
to be punished. We barely even say goodbye to our respective parents before skulking away. As soon as we get out of the office and into the main building, I feel as though everyone is staring at me; I’m sure there must already be all sorts of whisperings travelling through the school. I should know – I’ve been the one whispering about what other girls have done enough times, I just never thought it could one day be me who was in this much trouble. I wonder if the news has filtered down to Daisy’s class yet, and the thought makes my stomach curl in on itself.
The only tiny saving grace, if you can even call it that, is that Shimmi and I are both in this together. We keep silently glued to each other’s sides all day. We even stay quiet for lunchtime, only briefly telling the twins what happened and not talking to anybody else, although I can feel them all gossiping about us behind our backs.
Luckily, it’s General Studies for the afternoon, which we have together, huddled in on ourselves and forming an impenetrable brick wall. After a while, people even stop looking at us, we’re so unmistakeably giving off such ‘fuck off’ vibes. It sees us through to the end of the afternoon. I had expected a lot more stick from people – the whispering is still there, but nobody dares say anything to our faces.
By the end of the day it makes me wonder, though – is everyone a bit scared of us now? That’s the worst suspicion of all.
When classes finish for the day, I am nervous at the idea of being separated from my friends. I’m dreading going home and facing my mum.
Heading up to the common room to grab my French book, I hear giggling and unmistakeably bitchy tones, which come to an abrupt halt when I walk through the door. Lexy and Alice look up in panic when they see me. They’re clearly wondering how much I’ve heard, which makes me wish I’d been a bit stealthier about it. Alice hastily ducks down and fiddles with something; they exchange a look and barge past me out of the door without a word. I’m left standing there in the empty room feeling like I could cry.
I shove the French book into my bag, fully intending to get out of there as soon as possible. Then, in the litter bin next to the teacher’s desk, I see a lone piece of crumpled paper. From the different specimens of handwriting on it, and the fact it looks hastily screwed up, I have a hunch that it’s something to do with Lexy and Alice’s hurried getaway.
Already knowing I’m probably going to regret this, I pick the note out of the bin and smooth it down to read it. As I suspected, I recognise the writing as Lexy’s and Alice’s. I have to admit, it starts off with all the details I probably would have commented on myself if I were them – all about Nathalie, me, Shimmi and the twins.
Then I come to a new line that sends a jolt of electricity up my spine and into my brain, where it explodes into a thousand glass shards.
‘I just can’t believe SS – I heard she had sex with one of those guys they ran off in the car with!! I always thought she was such a geek, but apparently she’s turned into a total slag!’
‘It’s always the quiet ones you have to watch lol!’
‘J reckons she’s really weird, and her and her freaky mates might have something to do with what happened to me – I said I just think she’s a harmless loser who’s totally in love with him, but maybe I was wrong!’
I run out of the room and down the stairs, through the school gates and I’m almost out of there. Not looking where I’m going, I turn out of the gates and crash into someone. I’m about to mutter my apologies and carry on my way. Then I am more confused than ever.
‘Josh? What are you doing here?’
Picking up his girlfriend, Lexy White, I expect – and then maybe they can spread some more rumours and lies about me. I expect they’ll both have a great laugh at my expense.
‘Actually, I wanted to talk to you.’
‘Oh, really? Because you were desperate to talk to me outside The Crown when Lexy was there the other night, weren’t you?’ I’d never usually speak to him like this. For the first time, I really don’t care.
‘Oh, don’t be like that,’ he says with a faux-sad look that would have made my knees and my will totally give way not so long ago. ‘I know I should have, like, said something. But you know what it’s like. Aren’t I even allowed to talk to you any more?’
‘No, actually, not when you’ve basically ignored me for weeks, then you start texting me and buying me presents, and
then
I suddenly hear that you and Lexy White are madly in love, like Romeo and fucking Juliet or something.’
‘Is that what she’s saying?’ He grins. ‘It’s just a casual thing, me and Lex. It’s not a big deal.’
‘Look, you don’t have to explain it to me – it’s none of my business,’ I say, and try to step around him.
Just then a girl from Year Eleven walks past us, clearly thrilled at what she is overhearing. Josh looks around very shiftily.