I glance at Adrian, half expecting him to jump in with an opinion. For once, though, he’s sitting completely still, almost as though he’s transfixed: legs crossed in front of him on the armchair; eyes wide and trained firmly on Nick’s face. I turn back to him, resting a hand on his arm. “So you all watched TV together. Then what, love?” I prompt gently.
“Mrs. Atkins ordered pizza. Samir ate most of it. I told him he’d be sick. He said, ‘Good job you’re sharing Ade’s bed not mine, then.’ Sammy doesn’t say much, but he makes me laugh. He’s totally into computers. He said he only joined the reading group because his mum said she wanted his head out of Minecraft and in a book. It was Jason who told me about it. He said he only went because it was on Friday lunchtimes. It was that or litter duty. He likes Mr. Newton, though. He said he lets you do assignments how you want. Like, you can do a photo story. Or paint a picture, or write a poem.
“Anyway, I texted Jase about the sleepover. At first he said no. His dad was home. He didn’t want to leave his mum. I don’t know what changed his mind, but he looked gutted. I thought it was about the pizza. There was none left, and Jase had a go at Sammy for stuffing his face. It was a bit awkward then. Jase said sorry, he was in a mood. He hated his dad, he said. Ade said, ‘Why? He’s a hero. He’s killed hundreds of baddies.’ Mrs. Atkins said, ‘All parents have bad patches.’ I told her mine didn’t. That our family’s perfect. Or used to be.”
Nick pauses, and I reach out to him, ready to offer comfort, but he looks straight ahead, clearly locked into his thoughts as the memories keep coming, thick and fast now.
“I think Jase knew I didn’t want to talk about it,” he says after a moment. “He got me to show him where to put his stuff. We chilled upstairs for a bit then. He asked why my stepdad hung around his house so much. He and his mum just sit in the kitchen, talking, drinking wine, he said. He was worried his mum was turning into a lush. Adrian came in and asked what a lush was. Jase told him to ‘get lost and google it.’ Ade didn’t like that.
“Everyone thinks Jason’s a bully. He’s actually pretty good to talk to. I guess he does boss people around. I think it’s his way of feeling he’s not the only one getting picked on. His dad hits him. I reckon Jase takes it out on other kids. Not me. Well, he did for a bit. When our mums fell out. He said that was dumb. That I was like a kid brother to him. He told me he’s got a brother in heaven. I felt bad for him. I said, ‘I bet my dad’s looking after him.’
“Then Ade came back. He was filming us and saying we were being gay. Jase told him to ‘get his effing phone out of his face.’ Ade said, ‘Come outside for a snowball fight, then.’ But Sammy wanted to play video games. Jase said he was just gonna crash. But his feet hung off the end of the camp bed, so I offered to swap with him. Ade said he’d rather die than sleep with ‘Army Boy.’
“Me and Jase went downstairs then. Molly was crying and crying, and Mrs. Atkins was getting really stressed. She kept apologizing, saying it was teething pain. Jase and I made up games to try and distract her. The house got proper messy, but Ade’s mum said it was OK, and she wished Adrian played with his sister more.
“Then someone kept banging on the door. Ade’s mum said it was ‘no one important,’ and to ignore it. So we all went upstairs. I got my book out. It’s the one I was reading for Mr. Newton. Jase was right, the guy’s legit. I told him on Friday what happened at my old school. He didn’t get all preachy about it. He just said, ‘Dance to your own tune, son.’ I told him that’s what got me into trouble in the first place. That made him laugh.
“I really wanted to talk to the guys about the website. But I didn’t want to get called a wuss or a snitch. I’m not. I was just worried kids would get hurt. Then Mum phoned, and I felt bad, because I didn’t want to chat. I just wanted to get it over—tell Jason to ditch the website. Anyway, Ade kept messing about, taking selfies. I told him he’d better not post any photos of me. He laughed and said I was a ‘saddo’ for not being on Facebook. He took my book off me and called me ‘teacher’s pet.’ I was mad, because I wanted to know how it ended.
“He went off in a strop then. When he came back he was all dusty. I said I didn’t want to fall out with him, and asked where he went. He said ‘the dungeon,’ and not to piss him off or I’d end up there. Jase threw a pillow at him, and Sammy said we should have a midnight feast. Ade said he’d roast him, if he didn’t shut up about food. Then his mum came up to say goodnight, and we all pretended to be asleep.
“It took me ages to say about the website. I jabbered a bit. About the show. That I was worried it would be in the papers again. Ade said he thought it would be cool being famous. He said there’s nothing special about him. I said yeah there is: ‘You’re the gadget king.’ He said, ‘Big deal. Jase is rugby captain. You’re a dancer. Sammy’s school chess champion.’ He said no one’s interested in him. His mum’s busy with Molly. His dad’s never there. He said the Dare or Die thing made people notice you. Like being a celeb. I said, ‘Who wants to be famous for getting your skull smashed when you fall off a roof?’
“Jase said it was all a load of crap, and went off to the bathroom. Ade followed, and I heard Jase shout at him to stop taking pictures, or he’d ram the ‘effing phone’ down his throat. He went to get Mrs. Atkins, but she was yelling at someone downstairs, so he went to sleep in the spare bedroom. Sammy was asleep now. I kind of wanted to go home, so I didn’t bother with my pjs. I reckoned I’d get up early and leave. I knew I wouldn’t sleep.
“I kept thinking about my dad. And the website. I kept thinking maybe the kids who battered me last year filmed it and put it on YouTube. I thought I could tough it out with them. I wanted to prove I could hack it. Walk to school by myself. But it all went wrong and I didn’t want anyone else to get hurt, ever. I just wanted everything to be OK. To have friends. Real friends. Not just online. For things to be normal.
“I guess I fell asleep, because I woke up when something touched my face. It stank. Kind of soapy. My legs started to feel rubbery. I wanted to be sick, so I got up. Ade came out. He held on to me, said I just needed fresh air. He helped me put my sneakers on, and we went outside. It was so cold. I couldn’t breathe. Ade said, ‘Here, take another sniff of this.’ But it made me even more dizzy. Like on a roller coaster.
“I started seeing things, too. Like, there was a man standing right in the middle of the road. I thought it was Mr. Newton. Then it looked like my stepdad. I couldn’t see properly. I felt like it was snowing in my head. Then I realized it was snowing, and I started to run toward the man. I suddenly thought it was my dad, and I wanted to talk to him, to tell him to look after Jase’s brother in heaven. But Ade said I needed to walk off the dizziness. We walked and walked. We climbed a bit, too—a wall, I think. I don’t remember. I just remember trees. Rocks. Then everything went black.
“The cold woke me up. I had no top on. There was a Christmas tree smell, and I thought, I’m dreaming. I called out for Mum, but she didn’t answer. It was so dark. I couldn’t find my phone, and I needed my inhaler. I tried to stand up but my arms and legs wouldn’t move. I was shaking so bad, and I thought: Do you still shiver if you’re paralyzed? Then I felt the ropes. I think I screamed, but no sound came out. I kind of freaked out then, bashing around. I felt something sharp, and I knew it was a knife.
“I started to cry. I remembered the film. I thought, Someone wants me to kill myself. I remembered a hand shoving my back. I tried to think who pushed me. But my head really hurt, and my chest felt like it was being crushed. I thought I could see Mum’s face. She looked sad. I wanted to tell her I love her. She always says that to me. I haven’t said it back for ages. I picked up the knife and hacked at the rope. Sawing and sawing.
“I couldn’t believe it. I was free. But my legs felt numb, and I had to drag myself across the ground. I found a gap in the door. I pushed and pushed, but it didn’t move. I poked my fingers through the gap, and pushed harder. Then I got the knife and stabbed at it. I managed to get my
head through, but then I was stuck. I was so tired. I wanted to sleep. But it was freezing. I knew if I shut my eyes I would die.
I heard noises in the trees when I got out. I thought someone was coming for me. I held up the knife to protect myself, but my hands were so stiff. I dropped it. I started crying again. I just sat there, rocking. I thought, The bullies have come back. I knew I couldn’t fight them. I felt so weak. I kept thinking I saw faces in the trees. But nobody came.
“Then I saw lights. I wasn’t sure they were real—like the man on the street. I was worried I was going crazy. I tried to run, but I kept falling over. I kept seeing the same weird tree stump. I thought, If I still had the knife, I could carve symbols on the trees. Like Hansel and Gretel. But I’d lost it. I tried to pile snow on the stump. Like a sign. But it melted away.
“I thought I saw Marzipan, her orange eyes in the trees. I thought of the poem Mr. Newton showed me. Tiger, tiger, burning bright, in the forests of the night. I chased after her and tripped over a rock. It really hurt, and I was hopping around and slid down these rocks. I was flat on my back and there was this massive pain in my head. I looked up and saw the moon. I remembered Mum used to say: ‘Shall we ask the man in the moon?’ I asked him where my mum was. The next thing I remember is waking up in hospital, and she was right there.”
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
“You said your mum didn’t blink when ‘we’ left the house. You meant you and Nick. He didn’t sneak off by himself. And you knew exactly where he went. You’ve known all this time. Where he was hiding. Where he’d been hidden. Because you put him there!”
The second Nick finally stops talking and slumps back against the sofa, I turn to glare at Adrian. He’s still sitting as though mesmerized. Gripped by hearing the tale of his own horrible endeavors. I take hold of Nick’s hand, rubbing it as though it’s still frozen. I’ll never forget how cold it was when I found him; I’m struggling to believe that his so-called new best friend was the one who led him into that hellhole.
“Maybe. Maybe not.” Adrian shrugs carelessly, but his eyes are bright with curiosity, as though he’s gauging, almost savoring, my distress.
“You’re evil. Evil!” Nick spits the word I’m trying to bite back, then hauls himself to his feet, lurching unsteadily toward the bedroom and slamming the door behind him.
I decide to let him stay there. Partly to give him a chance to recover from the stress of his memory returning so violently, but more to shield him from the conversation I now need to have with Adrian. “You might not be evil,” I say, turning back to him, “but it was a very stupid thing that you did. Or did someone put you up to it? You can tell me, you know.”
“I’m not stupid.” He doesn’t seem offended—more . . . amused. “Everyone goes on about Sammy. ‘Clever Sammy, he knows all about computers.’ Well, so do I. They’re like toys. You just need to know what buttons to push.”
Suddenly he leaps off the armchair and begins strutting up and down the living room, head up and chest puffed out, as though he’s enjoying holding center stage. Even bad attention is attention, Beth had said about Molly. And Adrian’s mum is always so busy with his sister. But her son craves the spotlight—and at last he’s found it.
“I know you like computers. Gadgets.” I force myself to keep speaking calmly. I don’t want to scare Adrian off before he’s answered all the questions burning in my mind.
“My dad gets me whatever I want. All I need is an Internet connection, and bingo! I can do anything.”
I have a sudden hunch. “You mean the website, don’t you? Dare or Die. I saw it. It was . . .” Disturbing. Horrific. “Was that you? Did you set it up?”
“You didn’t seriously think Jason could have done it?” he sneers.
“Well, his name was all over it, so . . . yes, I assumed he did. I guess you had everyone fooled.” I rein in my anger, deliberately playing to Adrian’s pride in an effort to coax more information out of him. Under normal circumstances, I would never try to manipulate a child, but I have an alarming feeling that Adrian is still playing some kind of game. He clearly came here not to check on his friend, but to gloat. But then what? He really isn’t ’t stupid, and he’ll realize he’s in big trouble. Now that I know what he did, all I have to do is call the police.
I shift my position on the sofa, feeling in my jeans pocket for my phone, keeping a slightly nervous eye on Adrian. He’s small for his age; I’m sure I could overpower him. In fact, I have to clasp my hands together to stop myself launching across the room to grab him, shake him. I thought he was different; I was sure Jason was the bully. I was completely fooled by appearances: one so small and sweet-faced; the other a cocky-looking hulk like his dad. I had transferred my dislike of Nathan on to his son; I misjudged him. He’s nothing like the others, Nick said. It’s only now, too late, that I realize he meant Adrian.
“People are easily fooled.” He throws a smirk at me. “If it’s on the Internet, they think it’s real. None of it is. Facebook. Instagram. It’s just crap people make up. Fake accounts are a cinch. No one uses their real names or ages anyway. You can hack anyone if you have ID. All you need is a couple of letters. Old bills. Anything like that.” He stops pacing now and throws himself back into the armchair, legs hooked over the arm.
“The recycling spread over my front yard. It wasn’t a fox.” I glare at him.
“Well, it kinda was. Mr. Fantastic Fox.” He laughs. “I can see that as a headline.”
The childish reference to a book Nick loved when he was much younger is in stark, sickening contrast to Adrian’s cynical actions. “So that’s what this was all about? Fame?”
“I think you mean going viral.” Adrian rolls his eyes.
“Nick might have died,” I say quietly. “Is that really what you wanted?”
“But he didn’t, did he?” he bites back, for the first time looking rattled.
“No, but Jason did.”
“He deserved to. He was always sneering at me. Telling me to ‘run along, little boy.’ I needed to do something. I had to have my claim to fame.”
I stand up from the sofa and stride across to the glass doors. It’s dank and gray outside; thick fog hangs low over the river. I can’t make out if Craig’s boat is still there; I don’t bother to check my phone to see if he has texted again. I wish I didn’t even own one—that there were no cell phones, no secret apps, websites, or social media . . . that, as Nick said, he could just have real friends, in the real world.
I glance back at Adrian, still struggling to get my head around him being capable of such things. He’s just a kid, I think, staring at his too-big parka, his scuffed sneakers—suddenly recalling Beth complaining that he’d lost his new ones. DCI Maxwell said there was no way the boys could have been in the woods, because they couldn’t have cleaned their shoes without Beth hearing. Only Adrian didn’t have to: not if he ditched his before he came back into the house . . .
“What made you do it?” I study his face, searching for clues.
“Nick gave me the idea,” he says, too quickly, and again I sense how desperately he wants his day in court: to be the center of attention; all eyes on him, for once.
“Nick did.” I raise my eyebrows, allowing him to see my skepticism.
“Yeah. It was my sleepover. I wanted to hang out. Eat pizza. Have snowball fights. And Sammy was hogging the computer. Jase was in a strop. Nick was reading.”
“Well, he likes books. That’s how you became friends, isn’t it?” I say pointedly.
“Duh. No,” he drawls. “Mr. Newton just sat us together in form room.”
I glance toward Nick’s bedroom door, hoping he isn’t listening. “So you weren’t happy about Nick reading. You decided to punish him.” I’m boiling with rage now, but seeing Adrian smirk, I force myself to sit calmly back down on the sofa. I don’t want him seeing how badly he’s getting to me; I get the horrible feeling he’s enjoying it. “Couldn’t you have just asked him to put his book down?”
&nbs
p; “I did. Well, I sort of made him.” His chin juts. “Fine, I was gonna burn it. I took it down to the cellar. I had a look inside first, though. Just to see what was so gripping.” He swings his legs to the floor, sitting upright and alert now, as though he’s reliving the excitement of the moment. “This boy went looking for his dad. He got lost, and everyone was looking for him. I thought, What if Nick goes missing? After a bit, I could go and find him.”
“Then you’d be a hero, and everyone would finally pay attention to you.” I shake my head. “You’ve done what you’ve done, Adrian. But now you’re going to have to tell the truth. To the police. And to your mum.” Fleetingly, I think of Beth. I feel sure she’ll blame herself, but at twelve years old, surely Adrian is old enough to know right from wrong?
“Why would I do that? So they can call me a head case, like my shrink does?”
“They won’t,” I say firmly, wondering whether his counselor has perceived signs of mental disturbance in the boy. He’s always fidgety, but now his movements are agitated, erratic, as he jumps up and strides to the sliding doors, pressing his face against the glass as though looking for an escape from the trouble he’s got himself into.
“She says I’ve got issues,” he mutters. “Stupid cow.”
“Then prove her wrong. Show everyone how brave you are and own up. Maybe that will be your headline,” I say, trying again to steer him toward capitulation.
“Nah. I’ve thought of a much easier way to get famous. You’ve always gotta have a Plan B, haven’t you?” He pivots around to face me, his expression gloating again.
The Sleepover Page 24