by Angela Mack
“I’d give anything to be sharing this room with Ryan right now,” he whispered, bracing his hand against the top of the doorframe. He slumped forward, supporting our weight with his hand as his chin dropped to his chest.
“I know. But he’s up there watching you right now. Watching you both,” I murmured, tightening my hold on him. He looked back up again, past the canvas and framed photos and drawings, gazing up at the vaulted ceiling. He smiled as a tear rolled down his cheek.
Chapter 22
Joshua
I scowled at my reflection in the mirror―the one that was hanging on the inside of one of my wardrobe doors. The wardrobe was full to the brim of new clothes. I had four fucking pairs of jeans for Christ sake. Four. And a ridiculous number of t-shirts.
I had basically lived in the same pair of faded jeans and rotated between the same three or four t-shirts for over two years. Other than a new polo top here and there from a charity shop, this was the first time I had new clothes. Don’t get me wrong, they were fucking incredible; brands and labels I’d never even heard of. And Sammy had made a real effort to stick to my kind of style, if you could even call it that. Everything was in muted tones, blacks, greys, dark greens. Nothing garish or too in your face. And don’t even get me started on that fucking TV. I was so grateful. But as I tugged at the black tie around my neck and glowered at my black shirt and black trousers, I couldn’t help but feel pissed at everything in the world.
I watched as my brow drew in, carving deep lines into my forehead. I didn’t want to go today. I had already said goodbye. I didn’t want to stand in a church full of people I didn’t know, pretending they cared, pretending they hadn’t known what was going on. They hadn’t helped, had they? No one had fucking batted an eyelid. And now he was gone. He was gone and I’d already said goodbye. He'd been dead almost two weeks. Two fucking weeks without Ryan walking the Earth. I didn’t want to have a shiny fucking coffin as my last memory of him. Nope, I wasn't going. I was not going.
I ripped the tie from around my neck, hurling it across the room. I snatched my phone from my pocket, sending Izzy a text. Can you come upstairs pls? I need you x Within seconds, I heard her door slam and her feet pound up the stairs. Her long hair flew around her face as she raced into my room. She was wearing a long-sleeved, black wool dress, tights and ankle boots. There was a black scarf around her neck too. Any other day, I’d have told her how incredibly beautiful she looked. But not today. I couldn’t see past all the black. Black, black, fucking black.
“I’m not going,” I said, shoving my hands in my pockets and fixing her with a firm stare. I knew she was going to argue. What heartless prick didn't want to go to his own brother's funeral? She was going to tell me that I had to pay my respects, blah, blah, blah.
“Why don’t you want to go?” she asked, taking me by surprise. The concern in her eyes made me feel like a dick for snapping at her. I sighed, trying to release some of the tension from my muscles.
“I’ve already said goodbye, Iz. I want to remember my last moments with him exactly as they were. I don’t want to...I don’t want his funeral to be my last memory.” I looked to the floor, not wanting to see disappointment in her eyes.
“OK.” I snapped my head up.
“OK? That’s it?” She shrugged.
“It’s your choice, babe.” She walked over to me, cupping my face in her hands. She kissed me softly.
“When will you start realising that we aren’t going to force you into anything?” She smiled at me. “Besides, I don’t really want to go either.”
“No?” That shocked me. Why didn’t she want to go?
“No. I’ve been to a couple funerals before and everything is so depressing. So unbelievably sad. And I don’t want to feel that about Ryan. I want to feel happy when I remember him. When I think about his sarcasm, his courage and his wit.”
“He was a right sarcastic little shit, wasn’t he?” I chuckled. I couldn’t believe she got it. She understood exactly how I felt. Why was I surprised? I should never have doubted her. She was Izzy; of course she understood me. For some reason, she was the only person on the planet that understood how my fucked-up brain worked. I ran my fingers through her hair, stroking her cheek, my thumb resting on her bottom lip.
“I love you,” I murmured.
“I love you, too." She pulled back, leaning towards my open door.
“Mum!” she hollered down the stairs, making me jump. She smirked. I could hear voices and what sounded like Georgie yelling. I raised my eyebrows at Izzy as footsteps sounded on the stairs. Sammy shuffled into the room, blowing air out through her lips.
“Everything OK, Mum?” Izzy asked, noticing how tired she looked. She sighed, turning to look at me.
“Georgie is quite upset. He doesn’t want to go today,” she said. Izzy looked at me, her lips twitching.
“Um, actually Mum, that’s what we wanted to talk to you about―”
“Let me guess, you don’t want to go either?” She put a hand on her hip, her head tilted as she let out another sigh. Izzy nodded.
“We don’t want our last memory of Ryan to be so sad. We want to celebrate his life. We want to be happy,” she explained.
“That’s what I said!” Georgie’s voice squealed up the stairs and Sammy dropped her head into her hands. We waited as we heard his feet scurry up the stairs, his little brow crinkled as he stomped into my room.
“That is not what you said, Georgie. You just kept shouting that you didn’t want to go. You didn’t explain why, did you?” Sammy lifted her head and bent down to kneel in front of Georgie, getting down to his level. Georgie crossed his arms.
“Well, that’s what I meant,” he pouted.
“Georgie, did you shout at Sammy?” I raised my eyebrows at him. His mouth twisted as he fidgeted, avoiding my eyes.
“Don’t you think you should say sorry?” I prompted and he huffed at me. He then flung himself at Sammy, wrapping his arms around her neck.
“I’m sorry. Please don’t make me go,” he begged. She hugged him back, standing up and pulling him with her. She rearranged him so he rested on her hip.
“If you don’t go today, there’s no going back. No turning back the clock. Are you one hundred percent certain that you don’t want to go?” She asked me and Georgie turned to watch, waiting for my response.
“I’m sure. I know you must have spent ages organising it all and”―a realisation hit me―“and paying for it all. Shit, I bet it cost a fortune.” Sammy waved her hand dismissively at me. “And I really do appreciate that. But I don’t want to go today. And Georgie shouldn’t...I don’t want to make Georgie go either,” I finished. I still wasn't quite sure what role I was playing for Georgie now. I was so used to making decisions for him, acting like the parent, that it felt awkward when a decision needed to be made about him. I had an opinion, and I was used to my opinion being the only one that mattered, but it was like I was trying to co-parent with Sammy, which sounded bloody absurd. And she was technically his legal guardian now, as was Charlie, but I was finding it tough to let go. He was still my responsibility and he always would be.
“Well, if you don’t mind, Charlie and I will still be attending the service today. We need to say our goodbyes, too.” Her eyes shone. “If the three of you would rather say goodbye in a different way, I understand.” That was it? She understood? Fuck me, I was at least expecting a heated argument or something. My surprise must have shown on my face because Sammy smiled at me.
“This is what we do, remember? We have a discussion, we listen to each other’s point of view, we come to an understanding. We won’t always agree, and there will be times when Charlie or I may want to argue our point a little more strongly, but we do our best not to be overbearing, controlling parents. At least not all the time.” She winked at me, lowering Georgie to the ground. “OK, I’m going to finish getting ready and you three better decide what you’re doing today.” Izzy gave her mum a hug before she left the room.
“Your parents are fucking incredible,” I said, shaking my head.
“I know!” she beamed, looking smug. “I have an idea about what we can do today.” She ran over to my bed, crouching down and reaching an arm out underneath. She started rifling through the belongings under there, angling her head to get a better look.
“What are you doing?” I asked as I began unbuttoning my shirt. No way was I wearing this thing for the rest of the day.
“I forgot to tell you that I’d put this under here.” Her voice was muffled as she reached further under the bed, pulling a box free. She swung her gaze up at me, her smile faltering. Her eyes dropped to my chest, watching me as I pulled open my shirt and tugged it off over my arms. She stared, her cheeks colouring a faint pink. I tried not to smirk as she averted her eyes, staring intently at the box in front of her. She started pulling out pieces of paper and I realised that they were the rest of Georgie’s drawings. Georgie hurried over, kneeling beside her to peer inside the box. I loved those bloody drawings. When I was in the In Between, if I had nothing to do, I’d walk around my room, carefully examining each one. They would make me dream about what we could do when I woke up. Of course, at the time, my dreams had always included Ryan too. I smiled sadly at the box, watching as Izzy gathered all the drawings up.
“Close your eyes,” she told Georgie and he giggled. He did as she asked, and she fanned the drawings out on the floor in front of him.
“Now, I want you to point at the floor. Anywhere you want.” Georgie stabbed his finger at the floor, the paper of the drawing he’d landed on rustling at his touch. He opened his eyes as Izzy held the drawing up in the air.
“Looks like we’re going to the beach,” she grinned, showing us the drawing of Georgie and Ryan building sandcastles.
“The beach? But it’s freezing out!” I laughed.
“That’s what a coat is for, dipshit,” she retorted, humour wrinkling the corners of her eyes. Well, I guess we were going to the beach then.
✽✽✽
Although it was indeed unbelievably cold at the beach, thanks to my new thick, fur-lined parka jacket (the most incredible coat I had ever owned by far―I could go sled dog racing with a team of bloody Siberian Huskies), I was pretty toasty. Other than the occasional dog walker, me, Georgie and Izzy were the only people crazy enough to be on the beach in March. To demonstrate our poor mental state even further, we had all kicked our shoes and socks off.
Georgie was splashing his toes in the icy water, squealing whenever the tide flicked the waves a little higher up his legs. I was huddled in front of a crop of rocks, leaning back against one with a flat edge. Izzy sat between my legs, her back to my chest with my legs sprawled either side of her. Every time the wind picked up, it blew her hair across her face, tickling my chin. I leaned my head on her shoulder, my arms wrapped tight around her waist. I squished my toes into the sand in front of me, feeling the tiny grains grate against my skin. I looked up, watching as grey clouds fled across the dull sky, trying to escape the breeze. Another high-pitched giggle from Georgie caught my attention, sadness rippling through my bones.
“I feel like I failed him again,” I sighed into Izzy’s ear. She curled a hand around one of my wrists, squeezing.
“He looks happy enough to me,” Izzy replied, smiling in Georgie’s direction.
“No, not Georgie. Ryan.”
“You never failed Ryan, Josh.” She twisted to look up at me, fire in her eyes.
“But I can’t help but think that if I’d done a better job of convincing him to come back with me, he would be with us right now. Instead of...instead of…” The wind snatched my words away.
“I don’t think you were ever supposed to convince Ryan to stay, babe.”
“But why did it happen then? You know as well as I do that it’s fucking mental. All that shit about purgatory, about people getting stuck when they have unfinished business, what if it’s true? What if I was supposed to bring Ryan back, and I failed?” Again, I added silently in my head. What if being with Ryan in the In Between was my second chance, after failing to protect him from Big Mike?
“I don’t think you were in purgatory, Josh. That’s such a medieval concept; the idea of purging your sins before you can ascend to heaven.” She huffed, shaking her head. “I can’t explain where you were, but it was a beautiful miracle, Josh. And I’ve been thinking a lot about what you told us, and I don’t think you were supposed to do anything. I think it was Ryan that had a job to do.” I frowned at her.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you said Ryan was already there, right? And that he said he felt like he was being pulled towards the hospital exit, whereas you weren’t allowed to leave? And one time, he almost did leave, even though you couldn’t. Yeah?” I nodded, trying to figure out where her thoughts were headed. “The doctors also told us that you should have woken up weeks before you did. You had no brain injuries, no internal bleeding; they couldn’t figure out why you were still in a coma. Ryan on the other hand, the doctors were adamant that it was only a matter of time before he...he passed on.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “What if Ryan stuck around because you were supposed to live? You’re always so hard on yourself, Josh. Saying that you’ve failed, or you don’t deserve to have nice things, to enjoy life. But you are a fucking incredible human being, Josh.” Her voice had dropped to a whisper. She was facing back towards the sea again, watching Georgie.
“You are the strongest, bravest person I have ever met. All those beatings you took trying to protect your brothers”―she shivered―“anyone else would have given up on life. But you, you did everything you could to make the most out of a horrendous situation. And when you couldn’t forgive yourself, when everything had become too much, Ryan stuck around to help you do something you couldn’t do on your own. He told you to live, Josh. He told you that you had to come back. That he didn’t blame you and that he loved you. You were always supposed to wake up, Josh. You just needed a nudge to do it.” There was a break in the clouds, sunlight peeking through. I felt the warmth hit my face, tilting my head to the sky.
Is she right, brother? Were you there to help me all along, and not the other way around?
Of course she’s right, you muppet. I told you I wasn’t going back. And for the first time ever, I got to save you. It felt pretty awesome to be the hero for a change. I chuckled, imagining Ryan poking his tongue out at me. I nuzzled into Izzy’s neck.
Goodbye, Ryan.
Chapter 23
Isabel
I was nervous. So nervous, that I was hiding downstairs instead of waking Josh up with a birthday kiss. Most mornings I would go up to his room and if he wasn't already awake, which he rarely was, then I'd wake him up with a kiss. We'd snuggle and kiss some more, then I'd usually chicken out before things got too heated, claiming that Mum or Dad might interrupt us at any point, before launching myself out of his bed (which was true, they could). But that wasn't why I stopped. I was embarrassed. What seventeen-year-old seriously hasn’t had sex yet?
Jess lost her virginity at fourteen. Sophie was fifteen, although to be fair, she hadn’t really done it since, until she got with Jack. But she’d done some other things. I, on the other hand, had done naff all. Except kiss.
Josh and I had kissed a lot―I don’t want to profess to be an expert or anything, but I certainly had enough practice, put it that way. But that was it, just kissing. And I hadn’t done anything else, ever. Even before Ellie’s bullying put me at the bottom of the social chain, boys were never that interested in me. I always thought that if you weren’t hideous and you had a vagina, boys would throw themselves at you. Teenage boys were supposed to be so horny that they were sex mad, right? Well, that was never my experience.
There was one time at a party, pre-Ellie’s decree that I was in exile, when Danny Bird got so drunk that he shoved my hand down his pants. Danny was a bit of a nerd that was always trying to befriend the popular kids and he pulled the most o
utlandish stunts to get their attention. I was fourteen and had been so excited to get an invite to my first proper party without adult supervision. I hadn’t had much experience with alcohol at that point, so was sipping my WKD very slowly. Danny had randomly come up to me in a room full of people and shoved my hand down his pants. He’d literally grabbed my hand, popped open the button on his jeans, and forced me to touch his dick. Thank God that it was through his pants―small mercies. I’d yanked my hand back, squealing and shoving him away. He’d belly-laughed so loud, making sure all eyes were on him.
“You should be grateful. No one wants to get off with a giant.” I was so mortified that I’d left immediately. Other than the people in the room who had witnessed his cruelty, I hadn’t breathed a word to anyone. Not only was I embarrassed that I’d caused a scene by screaming, but now I knew why the boys didn’t like me―it was my height. I’ve had a crushing insecurity about my height ever since. And when Ellie and her gaggle of bitches had started taunting me, there had usually been a height-related joke thrown in. Lanky bitch. Pretty sure she’s actually a man in disguise― well, not a very good disguise. Good luck finding a husband. No wonder she always dressed like that; she has to shop in the men’s section! On and on it went. I hated being tall with a passion and it wasn’t until I’d reached sixth form that I had semi-accepted it. Kind of. I still had terrible posture from slouching all the time, trying to lose an inch or two wherever I could. I had felt a teensy bit less self-conscious when I’d seen that most of the boys had caught up, but the idea of taking things further with Josh was almost paralyzingly terrifying.