Fake (27 page)

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Authors: Beck Nicholas

BOOK: Fake
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Then I take in the rest of the words. She writes about Marty like he's dead.

My eyes sting as I read through the posts, going back in time through the last nine years. Mum's pain gets more real, her grief more raw, until I can't see the words. My eyes close and I press my forehead to the screen.

I didn't know.

I didn't think.

I mean, I knew she was hurting … ‘But not like this.' The words are torn from my throat as everything I thought I knew shifts again like someone's shaken one of those snow globes. Only when the pieces inside settle back the scene is slightly different.

A shadow falls over me. ‘Are you okay?'

Bobby. I was so wrapped up in the computer I didn't notice him finish. I wipe a palm across my face. ‘I'm fine.' I shut the computer harder than I need to and stand. When I brush past him it's partly to check the condition of the car behind him but mostly to hide my face. The bonnet gleams in the weak sunshine. ‘Awesome work.'

He shrugs. ‘Yeah, well, we had a deal.' ‘His mouth opens like he's about to say more, but instead he grabs his satchel and offers a half smile. ‘I'll see you round.'

‘For sure.' I try to put certainty in the words. He's a decent guy and I don't want him to think I'll avoid him just because I'm not tutoring him anymore or if things get worse at home.

Heat climbs in my throat. Not that I'm someone he necessarily wants to be seen with these days. ‘If you want.'

He smiles and it's crooked and sweet and friendly. ‘Yep.'

I return to my laptop and my mum's painful, secret life but I don't forget the boy loping away down the street.

It's nice to have a friend.

* * *

After a dinner of heavy silences and noncommittal grunts about my day, all I want is to escape to my bedroom. Mum is so sad and I don't know how to make things right.

The glances I sneak over chops and mash don't tell me whether she wants to know what happened with Dad, or why Sebastian was really at our house on Sunday night. In the end I say nothing, and hate that she's been judge and jury without giving me a chance.

She hasn't even commented on her shiny, clean car.

I don't bother switching on my laptop. Instead I lie back on my bed and stare without seeing at the ceiling. Thanks to two days of hiding in the library at breaks, I'm caught up on schoolwork. And anyway, no one I might want to talk to is online.

At school, Chay has been avoiding our locker and I've only seen Sebastian twice. Once in the hallway and once in the yard.

Both times he's changed direction to avoid me.

Both times he's been wearing plain black sneakers and I swing between hoping it's because of me and hoping it's not. But I miss the splashes of colour and I regret never asking him why or where he bought so many pairs of different cool shoes.

Just one of the bajillion questions I didn't ask him when I had a chance.

I never asked him what it was like to hold Poppy for the first time. I never told him that, while the whole baby thing freaks me out completely, I'm so amazed he's doing it. The courage to be a parent in high school is more than I'll ever have.

My eyes swell and I blink hard. I have to be cried out by now. I'm a wrinkled prune of skin over bone, with all the liquid soaked into my pillow nights ago.

No one talks about the scene in the hallway with Lana. Mr Jones – the teacher I had on detention – was caught with a hipflask of vodka at school, and that's been the topic of most conversations. My scandal was mild in comparison.

Except that it cost me my Mum's trust, my best friend and the boy I think I might love.

It has to be love for it to hurt this bad.

The notebook on my bedside table is another reminder of Sebastian. That night at the party I was sure I was invincible. I pick it up and thumb through the empty pages. Back then there was so much potential in the night, in Sebastian, in this book.

So much for my screenwriting ideas. I haven't written a word.

Yet.

My hand is rock steady as I grab a black pen from my desk and sit cross-legged on my bed. The screenwriting books I've hardly let myself read, because I was so certain studying business would solve everything, are easy to find. I pile them beside me.

I open the notebook. And write.

FADE IN:

EXT. SCHOOLYARD – DAY

It's a beginning.

From there the words flow. I write and rewrite a piece of dialogue, until I hear the sassy, brave heroine who stepped fully-formed into my brain, as though she's in the room next to me. I'm five pages in and have no idea how much time has passed when there's a faint knock on my door.

I straighten, hiding the evidence of my secret dream under my pillow. ‘Come in.'

The door opens with a creak and Mum is there. Her eyes scan my face and I can tell the moment she sees my tears because she chews on her lip. ‘You have a visitor,' she says.

I tuck my loose hair behind my ears and rub at my face where the tears have left grimy trails. ‘Who?'

She steps out the way to reveal the person at her side and the tears start again.

‘Chay?'

She's wearing muted blue jeans and a white knit top. Her hands are behind her back and her smile is tentative. ‘Hey.'

Mum glances between us and then waves Chay in. ‘Not too late girls, it's a school night.' It's not until she disappears down the hall that I remember I'm supposed to be grounded.

Chay lingers by the door.

‘Come in,' I say shyly, rubbing the sleeve of my jumper over my cheeks and sniffing.

‘Oh, you.' She sits on the chair by my desk and pulls a tissue from her oversized red handbag. ‘Now you've made me start,' she says, dabbing at the corners of her eyes.

We share a teary smile.

And that's when I know we'll be okay. There's lots to sort out, and maybe we'll never be the same as before, but she's here. She's here.

My heaviness in my chest lightens. I still feel the pain of losing Sebastian, and the distance with Mum, and the ache will probably make me cry again before the night is out. But for now I'm a little less alone.

I still don't know what to say.

Her shoulders lift as she breathes in. ‘I've been in love with Joel for ages.' The words tumble from her glossy lips. ‘I'm sorry, Kath. I never meant for it to happen and I tried forever to pretend I didn't feel this way. When he asked you to the end-of-term party I was happy for you. I really was.' Her big eyes beg me to believe her.

Maybe I'm a sucker, but I do.

I've had plenty of time to think in the last few days and the initial shock has faded. And I've been wondering about all Lana's sly digs at Chay.

‘What happened at that party all those weeks ago? Between you and Lana?'

After all, that's what started this whole thing back before Joel asked me out. If Lana hadn't messed with Chay first, I would probably have wimped out on the Aaron plan. Her gaze drops to her hands. ‘I was devastated when I caught Kevin making out with her.' Her voice chokes up and I give her the chance to get herself under control. ‘Not because I thought we'd be together forever but …' She sighs. ‘You know Lana, she made sure to rub my nose in it.'

I knew that much, but I don't see where Joel comes in. ‘So you decided to set your sights on Joel? She wasn't with him then.'

She shakes her head. ‘You weren't there. This party was pretty wild, and there was plenty to take my mind off my problems. At least for a while. I had a couple of drinks and was pretty sick. I remember lying in the garden with dirt in my hair, unable to move, expecting Lana to find me.' Her nose wrinkles. ‘She probably would have taken a picture and loaded the footage on the school website or something just to embarrass me.'

‘But she didn't.'

‘No. Joel found me. He cleaned me up and let me cry on his shoulder.' Her voice softens to wistful. Her face kind of glows with the memory.

‘Your knight in shining armour?'

Pink stains her cheeks. ‘Something like that. He was simply being decent though. He didn't know I was alive as a girl.'

‘So all this, the changes in clothes, the acting funny – it's been Joel?'

‘I didn't know how to tell you.' Her hands cover her face. ‘You've had a crush on Joel forever, and here I was falling for him.'

I'm trying to connect what she's saying with everything that's happened. ‘The night of the end-of-term party when I tried to call you and you were secretive?'

‘I was comforting Joel.'

‘The art project?'

‘We're working together.'

And the big one. ‘Aaron?'

She looks me in the eye. ‘I had to break them up. I knew by the way she talked to him that she was cheating on Joel in all but body. And he didn't have a clue. She's so wrong for him. He deserves better.' She leans forward. ‘But honestly, I didn't want Lana to be in danger. I just wasn't thinking … about anything but Joel.'

Every time she talks about him she gets this silly expression on her face. It's one I've never seen on her before. I don't know whether to laugh at her being so smitten or strangle her. ‘You should have told me.'

‘When?' She fires the question back.

It's a good question. ‘I've been pretty busy.'

She comes to sit next to me on the bed. ‘And Joel was your dream guy. How was I supposed to tell you that I'd fallen for him too.'

Now I can't stop the laughter. ‘Joel was a crush. I didn't really even know him. And maybe I didn't want to. Knowing him might have ruined the fantasy.' As I try to explain I remember Sebastian's accusation. He said I only wanted the fantasy boyfriend with him too.

He might have been a little bit right but he was also a lot wrong.

‘Sebastian is different. If you feel about Joel the way I feel about Sebastian then you'll know why I needed to tell him the truth.'

Her hand touches mine. ‘I think I do. I was pissed at first, but then I realised you didn't dob me in at all. You took all the blame. Like a good friend.' She sighs. ‘I told Joel the full truth tonight.'

‘And?'

‘I don't know. He wasn't happy.' Her lower lip wobbles with her smile. ‘I can only wait and hope.'

I lean into my best friend's shoulder and I'm thinking, as always, about Sebastian. ‘I know the feeling.'

* * *

After Chay leaves I wander out in my pyjamas to ask Mum why she let Chay visit but she's on the phone. She mouths that she'll be done in a minute, but I leave her to Colin. I curl up under my quilt, with Sebastian's hoodie wrapped around me, and sleep better than I have for days.

In the morning I find her in the kitchen.

She's flipping through a magazine with some morning show on in the background and her laptop open on the bench. All while taking the occasional mouthful of honey on toast.

Her multi-tasking used to drive me insane, but she'd argue it filled in the silent moments.

I understand a bit better now. I've been looking for ways to keep my thoughts at bay over the last few days too.

‘I thought I was grounded.'

Mum pushes her reading glasses to the top of her head. ‘You looked like you needed a friend and she hasn't been around much lately.'

‘You've noticed?'

She sighs. ‘Of course I have, honey. I'm worried about you.' She picks up the phone and leans across the bench, passing it from one hand to the other. ‘Say the word and I'll call the school. I've already crossed the day off in my appointment book. What do you say you and me head to the city?'

‘It's not Tuesday.'

She chuckles. ‘But it can be Choose-Day if you want.'

A day without constantly scanning the halls for Sebastian. A day where I don't need to worry that Lana is concocting some terrible scheme to get back at me for the Aaron thing. ‘Sounds good … but don't you want to see Colin?'

She closes her eyes the same way I do when I'm trying to keep my emotions under control. When she opens them again they're glassy. ‘I would really like to spend some time with my only daughter.'

‘I'd like that too.'

With the day stretching ahead of me, and no school to worry about, I take my time getting ready. I text Chay to explain and she replies with much envy. I ask if she's heard from Joel and get a three-text-long message back analysing the situation.

Things are definitely on their way back to normal.

Heading out the door, I stop and grab a pair of white sunglasses straight from the eighties. I loved these because they were so ordinary and so cheap. I loved that someone bothered to sell them instead of resign them to the garbage.

On the drive to the city we listen to Mum's old eighties mixes. The grating pop that usually annoys me is soothing in its familiarity. Mum sings along and I only mention once or twice that her off-key rendition reminds me of an injured cat.

Unlike the last few days, the not-talking is comfortable. Dappled sunshine streams through the windows and there's a sense of patience about the day.

We'll talk sometime. But there's no hurry.

Neither of us buys anything at the first shop. It's one of our favourites and we haven't been here in months, but as I wander the aisles, cluttered with old sets of drawers and cabinets, and walk past racks of clothes giving off that mothballs scent, I can't concentrate. For the first time, my story is taking up so much of my brain space I can't focus on anyone else's.

Mum picks up a cup and saucer set but replaces it at the last minute.

‘Coffee?' she suggests as we hit the sunshine again.

‘Sounds good.'

We sit at an outdoor table and study the menus. In the end I order a choc-mint milkshake, thinking of Sebastian as always. Has he noticed I'm not at school? I check my phone but there's no message from him or Chay.

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