Skin Deep (17 page)

Later that afternoon, Mum drove me home from yet another hospital appointment. Normally I’d have been pleased to get out of double science, but not if it meant seeing the dermatologist to be examined and prodded.

‘I think that went very well, don’t you?’ Mum said as we exited the car park.

‘Yes.’

‘You see, putting up with the mask – and I know how you hated it, darling – has all been worth it in the end. Dr Morrison was delighted, wasn’t he?’

‘Yes.’

She glanced over at me. ‘The colour will fade. You heard what he said. Why don’t you use the make-up more now? You did a fantastic job with it when you went out with Beth. It does cover the redness and I know that bothers you. You’ll get used to using it in no time. Look how far you’ve come already.’

‘Watch the road, Mum.’

She bit her lip. ‘Sorry. Shall we stop in Whitmere to rent a DVD? Curl up in front of the fire and have a girly afternoon?’

‘OK.’

‘It’s not that I think you need to hide your skin, but I do think it’ll make you feel better. I know I feel like a raddled old hag if I don’t put my make-up on. And remember before your accident how you were always nagging me to let you wear it?’

That was true. She was only trying to help, but I wasn’t in the mood. Dr Morrison had made me look in the big mirror when he talked to me about my progress.

‘I’m pleased with your neck,’ he said, pointing. ‘This is always a difficult area to get right. The skin tends to tighten and pucker here, but this is really quite smooth.’ It didn’t look smooth to me. ‘There’s no distortion dragging your facial features down – excellent. I think we made the right decision to remove the mask after six months. We’re lucky you healed so well.’ Six months was the minimum time, I knew. It could have been two years if things had gone worse for me. ‘And you’re keeping the massage up twice a day?’ I nodded. ‘Good, good. Make sure you do. We don’t want to waste all that hard work.’ He turned my head to examine my cheek in more detail. ‘Very good result on the face too. And how are you in yourself? Your mum says you’re back at school now and getting out and about again.’

‘Yes.’

‘How’s that going?’

‘OK.’

I willed him to put the mirror away. That’s what Ryan saw when he looked at me. How did it not make him sick? It was all very well Ryan saying they were just scars. Perhaps he could look at them that way, but he hadn’t had to kiss me. I bet he’d see it differently if he did.

‘Jenna? Jenna?’ Mum called me back to the present. ‘What DVD do you fancy? Any ideas?’

‘Something cheerful.’ Please, something cheerful. ‘A Disney film?’ Baby stuff, like I used to watch when everything was OK. A fairy-tale world.

For the first time, I was glad to get out of the boatyard at the end of the day.
My phone blooped a text message when I was halfway home – Jenna, waiting for me with the dog.

I dumped my bike in the paddock at the back of her house and met her by the front gate. Her eyes focused on my jaw.

‘I didn’t realise it was so bad.’ She lifted her hand to my face and then let it drop back.

The bruises from where Steven Carlisle had hit me had really come up today and I had purple splodges over my chin. But he’d have a few too so I didn’t care. ‘I’m fine.’

She tutted. ‘You always say you’re fine.’

I liked how worried her eyes were as they scanned me for more injuries. I could’ve milked it for a bit of sympathy. Obviously she was quite prepared to dish that out, but a bash on the chin was nothing compared to having the skin burned off your face. I’d have been ashamed to play on a few bruises with her.

We set off, walking away from the village. The light was fading so I skirted round her to walk on the outside in case of traffic.

‘How was school?’

‘Oh, OK,’ she said, offhand. ‘Everyone knew about Saturday, and that was . . . yeah . . . But I wasn’t there long. I had a hospital appointment this afternoon so Mum picked me up at twelve. And then we slobbed out on the sofa afterwards and watched TV and ate junk.’

‘Your mum let you eat junk?’

‘Mmm. She bought crisps and dip and we toasted marshmallows for hot chocolate.’

I glared. ‘If I get home to tofu tonight, I’m never forgiving you for telling me that.’

A car came by and we stepped up on to the verge until it passed.

‘So what was the hospital visit for?’

‘Oh, a check-up.’ And there she was again – offhand.

‘How did it go?’

‘OK.’

I nudged her with my elbow.

She sighed. ‘It was the dermatologist. And really, it went OK. He’s pleased with how it’s gone since the mask came off. I don’t have to go back for a while now.’

‘Hey, good result! You happy?’

‘Suppose.’ She hesitated. ‘I wish the redness would fade quicker though. He said it could take up to two years.’

I wanted to say something really clever to make her feel better, but I couldn’t think of a single thing. I grabbed her hand instead and gave it a squeeze. Sometimes it was easier for me to do something than find words.

‘Me and Mum had a talk afterwards,’ she said slowly, ‘and I’m going to use the concealer make-up now. For school and for going to the shops and . . . oh, most of the time.’

‘Don’t you want to?’

‘It’s hard to explain. I want it to look better. But if I put the make-up on then I have to look at it myself. And then . . . oh, I don’t know . . . then I have to accept that it’s never going to go away. I can’t pretend it’s not there even though that doesn’t work anyway. It doesn’t make sense, I know.’

I should’ve ripped that Carlisle shit’s throat out.

‘Sorry,’ she muttered. ‘You don’t want to hear all this.’

‘Yes, I do or I wouldn’t have asked.’

‘Did you see Sadie today?’ she asked in the least subtle ‘I don’t want to talk about this any more’ change of subject ever.

‘Yup.’

‘And?’

‘I’m dumped. Officially. So now I don’t have to worry about getting sacked. Good result for both of us today.’

She looked doubtfully at me, but I gave her my best grin.

We walked round in a loop and she asked me about work and the boats until it got too dark and I dropped her back at home. ‘Text me tomorrow?’ I asked as I collected the bike.

‘OK, and I’ll bring you some marshmallows.’

I sniffed. ‘Toasted?’

‘But of course.’ She grinned at me.

‘That’s all right then. You’re forgiven.’

The following Saturday morning, I waved the car off as Mum and Dad took Charlie and his friend Toby paintballing.

‘Have fun. Don’t kill each other.’

Mum pulled a face at me. She wasn’t sure she was going to enjoy this at all and I’d betrayed her by ducking out of it.

Twenty minutes later, there was a quiet knock on the back door, but when I opened it, no one was there. I stuck my head out and saw Ryan flattened against the wall. ‘Have they gone?’ he whispered.

I laughed. ‘Come in.’

Raggs went mental at the sight of him and jumped into his arms. He’d discovered if he did that then Ryan would catch him so it was now my idiot mutt’s favourite game. Ryan came through into the sitting room with an armful of slobbering ginger dog, but he lost all interest in playing with Raggs as soon as he saw the plasma TV screen on the wall. He looked like Charlie the first time we took him to Santa’s Grotto when he was tiny. Ryan made some indeterminate drooling sound, the kind boys make over sports cars.

I poked him on the shoulder. ‘The DVDs are in the cupboard. Pick something while I get the food. Here’s the remote control.’ I spoke quite slowly because his eyes were glazed over in techno-lust.

‘Effphnargh,’ he replied, or at least that’s how it sounded. I tried not to laugh as I went to turn the chips over in the oven.

When I got back with a tray of drinks and bowls of snacks, I found him cross-legged on the sofa with his trainers kicked off, happily flicking through channels. ‘You should’ve shouted me,’ he said, waving at the tray, his eyes never leaving the screen. He didn’t notice me leave to get the pizza and chips – he’d just discovered the sports channel.

He came to when I pushed a plate of food into his hands.

‘Did you pick a film?’

He nodded eagerly, a chip already in his mouth, and hit the play button. ‘I thought you might like this one too.’

The menu came up on the screen and I recognised the film. ‘Two hot guys in this,’ I said, settling back. ‘What’s not to like?’

He twisted round on the sofa to rest his feet on my knee and I eyed him. On one hand, I didn’t mind as his feet didn’t smell. On the other, was using me as a foot rest a step too far? If there was one thing I knew from having a little brother, it was that boys push their luck as far as they can. And Ryan, I knew by now, was sometimes just a big kid and a nightmare for doing that.

We’d been hanging around together for a couple of weeks now, since the Rugby Club incident, but it felt like a lot longer. He was the easiest person to talk to I’d ever met and he had some kind of sixth sense for when I was feeling down. A knack of dragging things out of me even if I didn’t want to talk. And he was right – I always did feel better afterwards.

But that didn’t make me his personal footstool. I made up my mind and shoved his feet off my lap. He chuckled and slid them back up to rest on the sofa next to me, knees crooked up to fit his legs on. A minute later, eyes glued to the screen, he slid his feet under my leg to keep his toes warm. It wasn’t uncomfortable so I ignored him. He was as bad as Raggs, who’d crawl a leg at a time on to the sofa when we weren’t looking.

When the film hit a slow scene, I seized my opportunity. I wanted to check something out with him, something I wasn’t sure about myself. ‘I’m going bowling tomorrow.’

‘Who with?’ He dipped a crisp into salsa and munched on it.

‘Some people from school.’

He looked round in surprise. ‘Oh, that’s good.’

‘Beth keeps moaning that I need to get out more, and you tell me I have to talk to people and give them a chance, so I’ve been trying to make more effort.’

‘Good.’ He gave me a smile that made my stomach molten.

‘You know I told you everyone at school heard what happened at the Rugby Club? Well, some of the people in my year thought it was totally outrageous, according to Beth, and she says they’ve been making a big effort to talk to me because they feel bad about it.’

‘Yeah?’

‘So Matthew asked me to go bowling with his group this weekend, and . . . well . . . I said yes.’ Had I done the right thing? I’d rather hang out with Ryan, but . . .

His eyebrows snapped together. ‘Matthew? A guy asked you? On a date?’

I frowned too. A date? No. I’d known Matthew and his twin sister since primary school. He wasn’t interested in me. He was one of those boys who had lots of girls as friends. I opened my mouth to tell Ryan that, but in a split second my brain wiring fired wrong and I had a moment of insanity. ‘Oh, I didn’t think of it like that. I suppose so.’

‘How old is he? What’s he like? Do you like him?’

I blinked at the volley of questions. ‘Um, he’s the same age as me. Er, he’s all right. I’ve known him for years. And yes. Everyone likes him.’

‘Do you fancy him though?’

When had this become an interrogation? I wished I hadn’t said anything and I really regretted twisting the truth. ‘I-I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it.’

‘Well, you should,’ he rapped back. ‘You can’t mess around wondering, if he tries it on with you. You need to know.’

‘I-I don’t think that’s going to be an issue. We’re going bowling with five other people on a Sunday afternoon.’

He grunted. ‘If it was me and I wanted to, I’d find a way. So are you going to let him kiss you tomorrow?’

‘Can we drop this, please?’ I said, my face flaming.

‘Or are you going to freak out because of last time and not having done it before?’ His eyes were so hard – I didn’t like how he was looking at me.

‘Ryan, shut up. Just . . . just watch the film.’

He hit the pause button and folded his arms and stared at me. What on earth was wrong with him?

‘Look, it’s just bowling . . . I don’t think –’

‘Maybe we should make sure you do know what you’re doing,’ he said, tapping his fingers on his arms like a drumbeat. ‘Yeah, maybe we should. That’s not a bad idea at all.’

He wasn’t making any sense. ‘What are you talking about? And why’re you snapping at me?’

‘I’m not snapping,’ he snapped. ‘I’m thinking. No, I’m sure now. This is a good idea. Definitely.’

‘What is?’ I hadn’t liked the look on his face before and I liked the smirk he wore now even less.

‘Come here and I’ll show you.’ He beckoned me with his head.