Drop (22 page)

“I can’t, mate. I can’t. Wake up and smell the codeine. She’s not used to it,” Isaac adds, unruffled, like a sea refusing to whip with the wind.

Finn shakes Isaac’s shoulders, trying to force a reaction. “
Fuck’s sake, Isaac
. It’s none of your bloody business,” he says, ramming his brother backwards.

Isaac lunges at Finn, sending him crashing into me. I scrape my arm on the sandpaper surface of the brick wall and sink to the ground. Pinpricks of blood appear like a rash.

“You’re the one hurting me, Isaac! This
is
too much for me to handle!” I roar. I pull myself up and charge between them, brimming with weird energy.
I just want to be calm again. Got to get out of this. Everything’s OK
.
Don’t panic.

I head towards the school gates.

Isaac calls after me, “He’s going out with you to get back at Violet for cheating on him last year!”

What the hell?

I turn to see Finn rush at Isaac, pinning him against the wall.

“Sorry. I had to tell you. And there’s something els—”

“Fuck off, Isaac!” Finn presses his arm against Isaac’s neck. “He’s lying, Carla, I promise you. I love you, tiger.”

Havelock appears, sweat on his brow, his rolled-up sleeves revealing thick, dark hair on his tanned arms. He rounds the corner carrying a bag of footballs. Probably been covering a PE lesson.

“Finn! Isaac! What’s going on?” he yells in his taking-no-shit voice.

“Nothing, sir.”

“Wait for me in my room.” Havelock turns to me. “Carla, come here. Now.”

But Havelock’s not important.

“You’re a liar,” I say, hardly knowing which brother I’m speaking to.

I start to run.

“Carla, wait!” Finn calls out. But he doesn’t follow me.

Havelock shouts my name. I keep running.

I run to the shop for a Coke and a packet of Doritos, as if they’re the magic formula to solve all my problems.

“That’s two pounds fifty.” A ruddy-faced woman with deep wrinkles like a satellite shot of the Grand Canyon holds out a hand expectantly. I root around for some change and find a two-pound coin but that’s all. Out of nowhere tears form and fight to get free.
Not now.
Don’t bloody cry now
. There’s an awkward silence as she watches me frantically search for coins, sobbing all the while.

“Carla, what’s up?” I’m startled to hear my name. I wipe my eyes with my sleeve, smudging black on my shirt cuff.

“You OK?” Lauren asks.

“She’s short by fifty pence. Just leave the Coke, love.”

“It’s not about the stupid Coke.”

Lauren pays the cashier and leads me out of the shop towards the park.

I open the can with a
tssszzzz
and gulp it down in three. After all that, my appetite’s gone and I can’t face the Doritos. Typical.

I well up again, feel my body begin to reject the Coke; my stomach turns icy, my throat burns.

A wind circles us like a buzzard, ready to swoop and snap with cold at my bare neck. I turn to the green expanse of trees. And throw up. “Sorry about that.”

Lauren pulls out a pack of Kleenex and I take one.

“It’s OK. You missed my shoes.”

I pick at the peeling paint on the roundabout frame with my fingernails, flicking it to the ground. Lauren sits on one of the seats and I sit next to her, pushing against the ground with my feet until we gently spin.

“So what’s going on?”

I stall, thumping my feet on the bark chippings, sending splinters of wood flying. The roundabout stops. Lauren looks at me, concerned.

I let my head fall into my hands, then recover myself.

“Finn’s a prick,” I say, admitting it to myself as much as Lauren. “He’s using me to get back at Violet. Isaac said so. But
Finn
told me they never went out. He’s lying, right? And another thing: Isaac likes me.”

“He does stare at you a lot.
And
he came to check on you when you were ill.”

“To rub in the fact that I felt bad after Georgia’s party.”

“No, it all makes sense. He was fighting with Finn at the party because he didn’t want to see you hurt.”

“Then why didn’t he tell me at the time?”

“He couldn’t, could he? You’re his brother’s girlfriend. I bet it’s pretty harsh on Isaac, seeing you with Finn all the time. Must have taken guts to tell you and risk losing his brother over it.”

“
Did
Violet and Finn go out?”

“Yeah, for, like, three years, until she cheated on him with some older guy. One of Georgia’s model friends.”

“
Three years?
He said they were never a couple. That she was like a sister to him.”

“If that’s how he’d kiss his sister, he’s a serious weirdo.”

“Shit.” Little hamsters work the ticker tape in my brain. “Why did no one tell me?”

“It’s common knowledge. Everybody knows.”

“Except me. It’s not exactly in the school welcome pack!” I sigh. “Maybe he didn’t tell me about Violet because he thought I’d worry about her. Maybe he was trying to protect me.”

“Why are you defending him?”

“I just thought…”

“What?”

“He said he loved me. I feel stupid now, but I believed him. I’m still trying to believe him. It could just be a misunderstanding.”

Lauren shrugs. “You need to talk to him. But be careful, Carla. I think he’s a snake.”

It’s my turn to shrug. “About the other night. I’m sorry. Should’ve listened to you. I’ve been a prize idiot. You tried to help me and I threw it back in your faces. I can’t believe you’re still talking to me.”

“What are mates for?”

Maybe real ones don’t try to change you into someone you’re not.

Right.
Pull yourself together, Carla!
Go home, listen to loud music for an hour in the dark, then emerge again fresh-faced with renewed perspective. That’s what I’ll do. But it’s not that easy, is it?

When I get in, my Spidey-sense tingles and draws me to the kitchen, where I eat three jam tarts. Yes,
three
. I drink some juice and sit at the table examining the grain of the wood. I’m about to go to my room and begin the loud music anti-angst therapy thing, but first stare at my mobile, willing it to ring, using my best Jedi-mind-trick face and waving magic fingers.
Ring, damn it.
A watched phone never beeps, except on this occasion, when it rumbles into life on the table.

“It’s me.”

“Hello, you,” I answer flatly.

“Please don’t listen to Isaac. Violet – she’s nothing. History. Why would I want to make her jealous? I have you. You’re all I want.”

Those words would usually melt me but today they make me squirm.

“You said you were never together. But you were, for
three
years.
Three goddamn years
, Finn. Probably worth mentioning.”

Silence.

“I don’t know what to say.”
That’s because I’ve caught you out
.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I stood in your room and asked you outright and you denied it.”

“I didn’t think it was important.”

“You lied about it. What else are you hiding?”

“Nothing. I promise.”

“Do you want her back?”

“Course not. She cheated. We broke up. End of.”

“Then why are you still friends? Isn’t that weird?”

“Look, we’re not!”

“Finn, that makes no sense.”

I hear him breathe deeply.

“I didn’t tell you because she says she made a big mistake and wants me back. I said no, but she keeps hanging around and trying it on. I didn’t want you to worry about it. She’s all hair-flicking and Tango tan and stick-on eyelashes. All style, no substance. She draws on her eyebrows, for fuck’s sake. I told her it was over but she can’t accept it.”

Could this be true? I so want it to be, so Finn and I can remain perfect, but it doesn’t add up.

It crosses my mind that Lauren and Sienna might be right about Finn not knowing a single thing about me. If he doesn’t, I can’t be all that important to him.

“What AS-levels am I doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“You heard me. It’s a simple question.”

“Um.” He pauses. “What’s it got to do with anything?”

“It has everything to do with it. What exams am I taking?”

“Er, Art.”

“Yeah, and?”

“Chemistry, Psychology.”
Three down, two to go.
“Physics – no, the other one, Biology.”

“Lucky guess. One more.”

“I don’t know! Geography!”

“Nope.”

“Carla, this is stupid. Just come round, we’ll watch a film and everything will be cool. Isaac’s trying to break us up, can’t you see?”

“It’s funny, I thought so too. Now I’m not so sure. I think he’s looking out for me.”

“I can’t believe he’s got to you. I’ll kill him for this. He’s jealous. He hasn’t got a girlfriend and can’t stand to see us happy. I love you. I love that you draw butterflies everywhere and that you taught me to do cartwheels and that you’re afraid to put your head under the water. I love you. I love you. I love you, Carla Carroll.” I can almost feel his breath tickling my ear. I think about the feeling I had when we spun around together at the boarding festival: giddy, high. But was it real love or just a bunch of chemicals pinging about – even before the drugs? Maybe love is only ever a bunch of crazy chemicals raging around inside you, making you do stupid shit and believe anything. Is that real love?

“I…” I want to say,
I love you too.
But do I? “I need time to think. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Carla, plea—”

I hang up.

In my head, images blur together. I see Georgia dancing in the garden; she looks at me but her eyes have no irises; they’re completely white, except for the outline of a heart, like on the first pill I ever took. She grabs my hands and we spin like Finn and I did at the park, but then it’s not Finn or Georgia, it’s Isaac and we’re laughing and when we fall to the ground he’s gone. I open my sketchbook and frantically smudge the pastel pictures of Finn’s hands, but they reform and reach out of the pages. Just as they are about to wrap around my throat and choke me, his hands turn into hundreds of butterflies that swirl around and lift me up so high. I see Isaac on the ground below and start to plummet, I call out for him to save me, but he doesn’t hear, then
vrrruummph
! I wake up as I hit the ground…

I scratch at the sleep that’s gathered at the corners of my eyes. I stretch, groan and swing my legs out of bed and into my furry, purple monster-feet slippers before heading downstairs.

In the kitchen I fill the kettle, listening to its whispery
shhhush
and put some toast on, get the blackcurrant jam from the fridge, and the good butter, not the olive spread. Dad struggles with Mum’s espresso machine, tutting and turning knobs and dials. Steam jets out and he jumps back.

“Maybe I’ll just have instant.”

“Good idea.”

The toast pops.
Shhhusssh
.
Snap!
The kettle clicks off. I make Dad’s coffee. Lots of milk, two sugars. Not quite a latte but as good as it gets when I’m making it.

“So your mum and I thought you might like to go to Wales at half-term. Sal will be back and you two can catch up.”

“What about you guys?”

“Got work. Thought maybe you could get some revision done. It’ll be quiet.”

“If by ‘quiet’ you mean completely dead and void of all entertainment, you’re on the button. Isn’t it like a rule that you have to be over a hundred to live in their village?”

“They let you in at eighty-nine these days.”

“Are you asking if I want to go or telling me I’m going?”

“You could do with a break, don’t you think…? Your teacher called.”

“My what did what?”
Er, not good. Hello, ding, ding, ding ALARM BELLS.

“Mr Havelock is very concerned that you haven’t attended your revision sessions. I answered the phone and not your mother, thank God.”

“I’m OK. I don’t need banishing to Nowhereville.”

“It’s this or, well, I’ll have to ground you.”

“Dad, you couldn’t ground a peanut with a pestle and mortar.”

“But I can ask you nicely to visit your cousin who I know you miss, do some work while you’re there and not make a fuss. It’s for yo—”