Adam finally turned round to face me. ‘Dante, I can’t live like this,’ he said. ‘Look at me. Look at my face.’
‘You are more than just your damned face. There is more to you than that!’ I shouted at him. ‘Is that why you did it? Because of how you look?’
‘No.’
‘Then why?’
‘Because Josh was right, Dante. What’s the point? When you get right down to it, what’s the point?’
I looked down at my lap trying to frame the right words.
‘The point is, you have a family and friends who love you. You have a world out there just waiting for you to conquer it. You have a life that will be anything you make it. That’s the point.’
‘But the world is full of people like Josh who hate everyone – including themselves – because it’s too much effort or they’re too scared to do anything else,’ sighed Adam.
‘And how are the cowards who live like that your problem?’ I asked.
‘Dante, don’t you get it? Look at my face. Take a good look. That’s how they’re my problem.’
And I did take a look. I clenched my fists and took a good look. My lips clamped together and I took a good look. My eyes narrowed, and still I looked. Anger, like a trapped bird, flitted inside my chest. Anger at Josh and Logan and Paul, anger at the whole world. Anger at myself.
‘That’s why you can’t let them win, Adam,’ I said at last. ‘That’s why you’ve got to keep getting up when they knock you down. But you don’t just give in.’
‘Dante, I’m tired.’
‘So am I. D’you think this is where I saw myself at eighteen? D’you think this is what I wanted? But I’m not giving up.’
‘’Cause you have someone to fight for. You have Emma.’
‘So do you,’ I replied.
‘It’s not the same. And I’m scared, Dante.’
‘Everyone’s scared, Adam. If this last few months has taught me nothing else, it’s taught me that.’
‘But you’re not,’ said Adam. ‘You’re like Dad. You get on with life, no matter what it throws at you.’
I laughed harshly. ‘Are you kidding me?’
‘What’re you scared of?’ Adam asked, surprised.
‘Damn, we’d be here until well into the next century if I went through the entire list,’ I told him. ‘I’m afraid of being a father. I’m afraid of being a bad father. I’m afraid of not being able to support my daughter properly. I’m afraid I might never meet a girl who wants a relationship with me ’cause I have a daughter to look after. I’m afraid that if I put my dreams on hold I might never get them back again. But most of all, I’m afraid of what will happen if Melanie returns and she wants Emma back. I dream about Melanie coming back and taking my daughter away and I wake up in a cold sweat.’
Adam got up and walked over to sit next to me. ‘Don’t let her. Take her to court if you have to.’ He frowned.
I sighed. ‘Melanie is Emma’s mum.’
‘Yeah, but Melanie abandoned her and you’ve been a great dad.’
‘Have I? I came that close’ – I put my thumb and index finger together and held them up for Adam to see – ‘that close to losing it and hitting Emma earlier today.’
Adam stared at me, shocked. ‘But you didn’t?’
‘I didn’t. I walked away. But that’s something else to be afraid of. I’m scared of turning into the kind of low-life scumbag who hits his kid,’ I admitted.
We sat in silence for a while.
‘You know what else I’m afraid of?’ I asked.
‘What?’
‘Losing you.’
Adam looked away from me and down at his hands which were twisting in his lap.
‘Please don’t ever do that again,’ I said quietly. ‘What on earth came over you?’
‘Jealousy.’
‘Huh?’
‘Emma came in my room, she kissed my cheek and hugged me and then you both left – and I was alone again. And I’ve never envied you before, Dante, but when you left with Emma, I was so jealous.’
Pause.
‘Adam, I’ve been jealous of you my whole life,’ I admitted.
‘You have?’ Adam said, surprised. ‘Why?’
‘You’ve always been a glass half-full kind of guy. My glass is always half-empty. And you’ve always been able to see the best in people. I’d hate to see you lose that.’
‘Maybe I’ve lost it already,’ Adam whispered.
‘I don’t believe that. I don’t believe that for a second.’ I shook my head, adding with a wry smile. ‘According to Aunt Jackie, your trouble is you’re being too much of a man. You think you can’t ask for help and that you have to go through all this alone.’
‘That’s how I feel,’ Adam admitted.
‘Oh, Adam, you’re not alone. Don’t you know that?’ I said, my eyes stinging. ‘But that’s what you wanted to do to me and Emma and Dad. We’ve already lost our mum. Not a day goes by when I don’t think of her. But you obviously don’t give Mum a second thought.’
‘What the hell are you talking about?’ Adam said furiously. ‘I think about her every day. I miss her every second. You and Dad think that I was too young to remember when she died, but losing her was like having a hole shot through my heart.’
‘Then how dare you?’
‘Huh?’
‘You remember what it was like to lose Mum and yet you wanted to inflict more of the same on Dad and me? You wanted to leave us behind to try and go on without you?’
Adam stared at me as my words sunk in.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said softly, looking down at his hands again.
‘Adam, look at me.’ I waited until he lifted his head and looked me in the eye. ‘Adam, you’re my brother and I love you. Very much. I don’t want to lose you. I couldn’t bear it.’
Adam’s mouth fell open. He was staring at me like he’d never seen me before.
‘It means that much to you?’ Adam asked in wonder. ‘I mean that much to you?’
‘Of course you do, you super massive arse hole!’
‘You’d better lower your voice before Dad charges up here thinking something is wrong,’ said Adam, the merest trace of a smile on his lips. ‘Potty-mouth!’
‘It’s not funny, Adam,’ I said.
‘I know. I’m sorry, Dante. I won’t do it again.’
‘Promise me.’
‘I promise. You’re not going to lose me.’ Adam smiled. His hand moved up to my face. He wiped his hand across my cheeks. When he pulled his hand away, his fingertips were wet. Only then did I realize why.
‘Don’t you know that boys don’t cry?’ Adam grinned.
‘Shall I tell you something I’ve only recently discovered,’ I replied, not attempting to hide the tears rolling down my face and not the least bit ashamed of them. ‘Boys don’t cry, but real men do.’
My brother and I hugged each other. It was spontaneous and simultaneous and it felt really good.
‘I guess I’d better go and help with dinner,’ I sighed. ‘Will you be OK?’
Adam nodded.
‘Are you going to join us downstairs?’
‘I . . . maybe tomorrow.’
‘Definitely tomorrow. OK?’
‘OK,’ my brother agreed.
‘I’ll bring you up some food on a tray,’ I said.
‘Thanks,’ said Adam.
I headed for the door but was reluctant to leave.
‘Adam, I . . .’
‘Dante, I’m not going to do it again. I promise,’ said Adam. ‘You’re going to have to trust me.’
‘I do.’
Glancing down, I noticed the bathroom mirror was still leaning against Adam’s wall. ‘I’ll just take this away.’
‘No, leave it,’ said Adam.
After a moment, I left the room, quietly shutting the door behind me.
49
Adam
The moment the door shut, I leaned back to retrieve Josh’s letter from beneath my pillow.
I hadn’t been lying to Dante about throwing it away. I did chuck it in the bin unread the moment I realized who it was from. But after a minute or two, I’d fished it out of the bin again. And I read it and reread it, waiting for the words to stop hurting.
But they hadn’t.
Now my initial intention was to read it again, but once I had it in my hand, I was reluctant to even unfold it. I didn’t want to read it any more but I wasn’t capable of throwing it away either, at least not yet. In the end I buried it at the back of my bottom drawer, beneath a couple of jumpers I hadn’t worn in years. The letter had brought back so many thoughts and feelings that I thought I’d dealt with.
Too many.
I’d taken the first couple of sleeping pills each night when Dad gave them to me, but after that I reckoned I didn’t need them any more. And I never did like taking tablets, so I just collected them in some tissue paper and pushed them to the back of a drawer. But Josh’s letter and Emma’s visit had knocked me flat again. Not that I’m blaming either of them, and certainly not Emma.
She was so lovely. And I realized as she hugged me that it was the first time I’d been held in months. It was no one’s fault but my own, but at that moment I’d felt so incredibly alone. Like I’d been buried alive and had a ton of loneliness smothering me, crushing me. I missed my friends, I missed school, I missed my life. The world was happening outside my door and I wasn’t a part of it. And more than ever, I missed my mum. I missed being held and kissed and comforted by her. Whenever I was hurting she’d hug me until I felt better. But she’d died. And the hugging had stopped.
I’d lain awake all through the night just thinking how everyone, including me, would be so much better off if I wasn’t around. And then all the pain and the loneliness would stop. And early this morning, I’d remembered the sleeping pills . . .
It was a stupid thing to do.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
I’d realized that as I fell asleep. Tears of intense regret had escaped from my eyes as I’d lain in my bed, my head on my pillow, my eyes closed. I’d thought of all the things I had and all the things I would now never have because I’d taken those pills. I really had thought that was it.
But I’m still here.
I’m not sure if Dante believes my promise that I’ll never try that again. But I do mean it. I’m not going anywhere.
I sat, surveying my room. The cream walls which had comforted me over the last few months now seemed claustrophobic and oppressive. I walked over to the mirror, still resting against the wall. My right eye drooped and my right cheek still had a couple of noticeable scars. But only a couple.
Hell! I was still standing. Ha!
Opening my door, I headed downstairs. I heard voices coming from the kitchen. Aunt Jackie’s was the loudest as per usual. And I could hear Emma laughing. I love to hear her laugh. Something else I’d missed all these months. Taking a deep breath, I entered the room.
‘Hi, all.’ I smiled. ‘D’you mind if I join you?’
50
Dante
Dammit! Adam’s voice was so unexpected it actually made me jump. I stared at him like he was a ghost or something. And I wasn’t the only one. Emma regained her composure before the rest of us.
‘Unckey,’ said Emma, toddling towards him, her arms outstretched.
Adam scooped her up, grinning at her. ‘Hiya, Emma. How’s my favourite niece? The rest of the family are doing really great impersonations of goldfish at the moment.’
My mouth snapped shut.
‘Cheeky bug—!’ Dad exclaimed.
‘Dad!’ I interrupted. ‘Young ears are flapping.’
Dad looked apologetic but only for a moment. As Adam put Emma back down on her feet, Dad walked over to him.
‘How’re you feeling, son?’
‘Sore,’ Adam replied.
Adam and Dad regarded each other.
‘Adam, I want you to know that if you need someone to talk to, someone who will listen without judging you, someone who’ll always have your back, I’m right here. OK?’
‘Yes, Dad.’ Adam smiled.
And then, out of the blue, Dad hugged Adam. It only took a second or two for Adam to hug him back. A strange silence descended on the kitchen. As I watched, my eyes began to leak. Oh, hell! A quick cough and a turn of my head gave me an excuse to raise my hands to my face to mask my embarrassment. Dad let go of Adam and we all stood in awkward silence, unsure of what to do next.
‘Me now,’ said Emma, holding out her arms towards Adam and making us all laugh. I could’ve kissed her! My brother scooped her up again.
‘Honey, you’re just in time for dinner,’ said Aunt Jackie.
‘What is it?’ asked Adam.
‘Sausages, mashed potatoes and peas,’ said Dad.
‘I’m not sure my throat can cope with sausages, but I’ll have some mash,’ said Adam.
I got out some cutlery and Aunt Jackie retrieved some plates from the cupboard. Dad added more butter and milk to the potatoes and carried on mashing them like they were the enemy. Sixteen oven-baked sausages occupied a casserole dish resting on the cooker out of the way. Adam stayed in the kitchen, alternating between whirling Emma around and lifting her above his head.
‘I wouldn’t do that if I were you,’ I warned him. ‘She’s only just had some juice.’
‘She’ll be fine,’ Adam dismissed. ‘Stop fuss—’
Emma puked all over Adam’s T-shirt.
For the third time in under five minutes, there was a stunned silence. I broke it first. I howled with laughter, followed by Aunt Jackie.
‘Oh dear,’ said Dad, before he creased up too.
Emma burst into tears. I took her from Adam’s unresisting hands. He was still staring down at the mess on his T-shirt.
‘You were warned,’ I told him, before turning to my daughter. ‘It’s OK, Emma. No point in crying over spilt blackcurrant juice!’
Adam glared at me. ‘You’re not funny.’ Then he did something I hadn’t seen in a long, long time. He started laughing too. My clean-freak brother had sick down his T-shirt and he could actually laugh about it. He shook his head. ‘Serves me right,’ he said. ‘I’ll be right back.’ He headed out of the kitchen.
‘Don’t drip on the carpets,’ Dad called after him, putting the food in the oven to stay warm.
Ten minutes later, once Adam had had a shower and changed his clothes, we all sat down to eat.
‘OK,’ I said, picking up my knife and pointing it at Adam. ‘Who are you and what have you done with my brother?’
‘What?’ Adam frowned.
‘You spent less than ten minutes in the shower,’ I told him. ‘You’re not Adam.’
Pause.
‘Sod off and die, Dante,’ Adam replied, displaying sparkling wit and repartee.
‘Dammit, Adam, stop bloody swearing,’ said Dad.
‘Tyler! Tyler, really!’ My aunt sighed.
And we all started laughing again. Emma started babbling away to Adam, and Aunt Jackie and Dad smiled at each other as they shared a memory about my mum and how she was always telling off Dad for his colourful use of language. I quietly and carefully put down my knife and fork and just watched them all.
At that precise moment, I was happy. And, at that moment, it was a feeling shared by everyone around the table. Before Emma arrived, we’d occupied the same house and that was about it. But not any more. There were no questions answered, no blinding revelations, nothing had really been resolved. But we were a family and we were together.
And for now that was all that mattered.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
MALORIE BLACKMAN is acknowledged as one of today’s most imaginative and convincing writers for young readers. Noughts & Crosses has won several prizes, including the Children’s Book Award. Malorie is also the only author to have won the Young Telegraph/Gimme 5 Award twice with Hacker and Thief! Her work has appeared on screen, with Pig-Heart Boy, which was shortlisted for the Carnegie Medal, being
adapted into a BAFTA-award-winning TV serial. Malorie has also written a number of titles for younger readers.
In 2005, Malorie was honoured with the Eleanor Farjeon Award in recognition of her distinguished contribution to the world of children’s books.
In 2008, she received an OBE for her services to Children’s Literature.
www.malorieblackman.co.uk
Boys Don’t Cry: Questions For Readers
WARNING: THESE NOTES CONTAIN PLOT SPOILERS SO DO NOT READ BEFORE YOU READ THE BOOK ITSELF
1. ‘She should’ve told me, given me a chance to wrap my head around the idea and step up. I should’ve been there. Not just for Emma’s sake and Melanie’s, but for my own as well. Why hadn’t Melanie told me?’
Why do you think Melanie didn’t tell Dante about her pregnancy? Dante says that he doesn’t know what his reaction would have been, but what do you think he would have said or done? Was Melanie right not to tell him? And if she had, do you think she may have made different choices?
2. ‘Doing a runner is usually the man’s province, not the woman’s’ – Dad
‘At least he’s in his child’s life. At least he hasn’t done a runner like a lot of men do’ – unknown woman (with child) in the shop
How fair are these statements? And why do you think both Dad and this woman might feel this way? If this is true, why do you think this might be so? And how does this attitude affect Dante’s own struggle, for instance with social services?
3. ‘You’re threatening to take my daughter away from me for no other reason than my age and my gender.’
Is Dante right to worry about social services being more likely to doubt his ability to be a single parent because he is a dad, not a mum? Can a single dad do just as good a job as a single mum? Is it easier or harder for Dante than for Melanie? Compare how each copes with the challenge of being a single parent.
4. Adam tells Dante that he and Dad are ‘too alike’ (chapter 18). In what ways are they the same? Different? How does their understanding of each other change throughout the book?
5. ‘I’ve known I was gay since I was thirteen. And what’s more, I like it. Scratch that, I love it.’
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