I guess just once in a while, Mum can be all right.
Chapter Thirty
Gemma
Cal: Hey! Want to come to mine to rehearse?
Gemma: I can’t tonight, sorry. I’m going to the cinema with Aaron.
Cal: Tomorrow?
Gemma: Can we do it in college?
Cal: Sure, if you’re planning to come this week, ha ha.
Cal: Sorry, only joking. But you’ve not really been in this week. Are you ill?
Cal: ???
Gemma: Sorry, got distracted. I’ll be in tomorrow
Cal: Are you ‘with me’ today?
Gemma: If you don’t mind …
Cal: Sure, but you know mums do that talking thing every now and again right?
‘Who are you messaging?’ Aaron says as he decants a takeaway on to some plates. Somehow it’s Thursday, and I’ve barely been in college. Again. I’ve also had a ‘sleepover’ at Rachael’s and a lot of ‘studying/rehearsal sessions’ at Cal’s. It’s not that I think Mum wouldn’t be OK with me seeing Aaron, but I’m not sure how Dad would react, so it seems easier to make excuses. The night I spent at Aaron’s was amazing though. He took me out along the coast to this restaurant where they served these huge gourmet burgers and chips. After they took away the dessert plates, he brought out this box which had an infinity bracelet to match my necklace. And then a brand-new iPhone, some gorgeous new cowboy boots, a ton of make-up and vouchers for the salon.
I just wish it had been on my actual birthday, which was yesterday and mainly consisted of a super-boring meal out with my family, in our usual football celebration restaurant, where Dad talked about transfers, UEFA and training, and Mum pushed her food around her plate as usual. At least they got me a load of Amazon vouchers which is what I asked for. Well, I’d have preferred driving lessons, but no chance Dad would stick his fist in his pocket for those. Amazon vouchers came second – that way I can save them up for something special for Aaron for Christmas, now I’m not earning any money.
I told Mum and Dad I’m cutting back on my hours at the cafe to spend more time studying, which is a bit ironic given I’ve seen more of the inside of Aaron’s bedroom the last two weeks than I have the inside of the refectory, let alone an actual lesson. But the first term barely counts anyway. It’s all on exams now, so there’s no coursework and I can totally catch up on anything important over the holidays.
I look down at my new bracelet on my wrist. The rose gold colour catches the light and glows as I trace the two loops. It’s beautiful.
‘So who were you messaging?’ Aaron says again, as he comes over with two plates of chicken korma and pilau rice.
‘Oh, um. Just Rachael. I told Mum I was going to be at her house tonight.’
He puts both the plates down, not saying anything for a moment. I get a sudden sense he knows I’m lying. I just don’t want him to get upset, that’s all.
‘Um, Cal WhatsApped too … I thought maybe we should do a rehearsal in college tomorrow?’
‘Sure,’ Aaron says. He starts to eat and, relieved, I do the same. ‘If you really want to,’ he adds after a moment.
‘Well, it’s just the audition’s getting closer now and we haven’t really rehearsed for ages so …’
‘You know, I thought before, Cal’s a bit of a hanger-on, isn’t he? Your voice is way better than his. And you’re the songwriter. Do you even need him any more?’
‘Well … we entered as a duo,’ I say lightly. ‘And we got through as a duo, they wouldn’t let us change now.’
Cal brings something else too … not just the vocals, more like moral support. But I don’t want to tell Aaron that.
‘It’s a shame you didn’t audition on your own. I mean it’s your talent, not his,’ he muses.
‘It won’t take long, honestly.’
‘No, of course. We’ll definitely go.’
I smile, but there’s a knot in my stomach that’s making it hard to force the curry down. I push the plate away after I’ve eaten half.
‘That’s all you’re having?’ Aaron says when he’s finished. I get up and take our plates to the kitchen and start to clear up.
‘It was really nice, I’m just not super hungry,’ I say. A moment later, Aaron comes over and pinches me on the bum.
‘Guess it’s not a bad idea to keep this in check,’ he says.
‘What do you mean?’ There’s a flash of irritation in my voice. This week’s been incredible, but I’m pretty tired. I ended up FaceTiming Aaron until 2 a.m. this morning, then I still had to get up for college even if he took me off after the first two lessons, all because that arsehole Jonny said something stupid that pissed him off.
‘Nothing! Jeez, I just meant you girls are always trying to watch your figures or whatever. You don’t need to shoot me down,’ Aaron says.
I wasn’t shooting him down. Yet I find myself saying, ‘Sorry, I’m just a bit …’ I’m about to say ‘tired’, but then Aaron might get upset I don’t want to talk to him. So I say, ‘Hormonal. Think I’m due on.’
Aaron wrinkles his nose. ‘I thought the pill was supposed to help with girl moods or whatever?’
I finally sorted going on the pill, to Aaron’s relief. He really hates condoms.
‘Er, yeah, but I think it takes a bit of time,’ I say. I have no idea really, but Aaron nods.
‘Poor baby, come here,’ he says and kisses me. Then we cuddle up together on the settee to watch Nashville. It’s so cool Aaron’s a fan too; we’ve been re-watching right from season one. We’re midway through season three now. I already know what’s going to happen, but I still love curling up with my head on his chest, his arms around me.
But later, when he’s dropped me home and I’m up in my room, I get my laptop out and start to search ‘Can someone love you too much?’
Tons of hits come up, but before I can read the first one, there’s a knock on my door. I shut my laptop. ‘Yeah?’
Michael comes in.
‘Oh! Hi. I thought you were Mum.’
Michael pretends to look himself up and down and says, ‘Nope, just me.’
There’s a pause.
‘What’s up?’ I say.
Michael’s kind of moving around my room. He looks a bit shifty.
‘Everything OK?’
‘Yeah, pretty much. I just wondered, um … how’s college?’
‘What?’ I stare at him.
He comes and perches on the edge of my desk chair. ‘I just wondered what it’s like. You know, A levels and stuff?’
‘It’s OK, I guess. Why?’
It’s not like Michael’s going to go to a normal college. By the time he’s my age, he’ll be in the Under-21s if all goes how it’s supposed to.
‘I just wondered …’
Just then, Dad’s voice floats up the stairs. ‘Michael? Match is on.’
For a second, Michael’s face falls, but then the next minute he’s his usual self, bouncing out of the room like he hasn’t got any worries at all, throwing out a ‘See you later!’ over his shoulder.
I lie back on my bed, the laptop forgotten, thinking about my brother and his insane talent, and the next thing I know it’s dark outside and the house is still and there’s a noise at my window.
Chapter Thirty-One
Aaron
When she doesn’t answer her messages, or her phone when I call her, that’s when I look. Not before. But I know how to get into her WhatsApp; it’s easy if you’ve got someone’s number.
The first thing I see are the messages from Cal. Way more of them than she said. The winky faces. Kisses. Little in-jokes from a time before I knew her. I read through each one, feeling the nausea rising. There’s a rational part of me that’s aware her messages indicate nothing more than friendship, though his are screaming he wants more. But a larger part of me feels like a vortex, as though my lungs are collapsing in on themselves and I’m struggling for breath, fighting to pull up and out.
Fighting to remember who I am.
Go home, a voice is whispering in my head.
I try her number again but there’s still no answer.
And the need to just see her, to touch her hair, is overwhelming. Too big for me to fight.
I step out of the car and jog up the track.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Gemma
‘Wha—?’ I grunt out, still half asleep and wondering if perhaps I’m actually dreaming. But it comes again, a rattling sound like something hitting my window.
I sit up, the duvet pulled close to me as though I’m little and I’ve had a nightmare. I can feel my heart pounding. The noise comes again, and this time I don’t cringe. A flash of annoyance goes through me instead. Whatever bird is pecking at my window is about to get the worst fright of its life, because I am over being woken up in the middle of the night.
I throw the duvet off me so hard it slides to the floor, switch my lamp on and jump out of bed, then yank the curtains open in time to see something hit the window and bounce away. I peer out and then stop, my mouth dropping open.
It’s Aaron, standing under my window looking up, his face illuminated softly by the moonlight. I unlatch the window and lean out. ‘Aaron?’ I whisper.
He waves. I can’t work out the look on his face in the half-light. It’s full of shadows.
‘Hi,’ he says quietly.
‘What are you doing? My dad …’
‘I’m sorry, I had to see you.’ He tilts his head slightly and as he does, I think I see something shining on his face. Is he … crying? Then I notice he’s holding something in his hand.
‘Are those flowers?’
Aaron looks down as if surprised to see them there himself, then back up at me. ‘Come down.’
‘What? I can’t. I’ll wake the whole house up.’
‘Not if you’re quiet.’
Oh God. This is insane. Then he moves and a moment later I realise with horror he’s trying to climb up the drainpipe. ‘Aaron!’ I hiss. ‘Stop it. You’ll fall.’
‘Come down then,’ he says, still climbing, his feet scrabbling for a purchase on the wall. He gives a sudden smile up at me, his teeth flashing wolf-like in the dark.
‘Oh Jeez … OK, wait there.’
I duck back into my room and grab my dressing gown, then my phone to check what time it is, which is how I realise I’ve forgotten to put it on charge and the battery has died at some point overnight.
Slowly, I creep downstairs, wincing at every little noise as I ease the back door open. I’m met with the faint rush and roar of the sea, and the night air, and then a moment later Aaron’s mouth and arms. He’s been waiting right by the door and he kisses me like he never wants to stop.
There’s a hefty part of me that’s annoyed, confused. But Aaron’s kisses seem to override everything until my head starts to swim and I can’t think of anything else. Eventually he pulls back, and I try to catch my breath. ‘You know, you shouldn’t have come here. If my dad finds us he’ll basically ground me forever.’
Aaron dips his head. ‘I’m sorry. I just … I needed you.’
‘Why?’
‘I – I can’t …’ He looks up, like there’s answers somewhere in the stars above us, and I remember the things he hinted at before, with his mum. How she basically rejected him. Perhaps it’s too painful for him to talk about. Then Aaron goes on, ‘And then, when you weren’t answering your phone it reminded me of …’ He breaks off and I remember how much Cherine hurt him. Still, I purse my lips because for real I am going to be in so much trouble if we get caught out here. But just then – maybe it’s some sort of cosmic timing – the little piece of cloud that had drifted across the moon clears and I see his face giving that small smile I know so well, ghostly and loving and wholly mine. I can’t help the rush of love that comes over me then.
‘You muppet,’ I say, but I’m smiling even as I shake my head.
‘I should go. I’m sorry I woke you,’ Aaron says.
‘It’s OK.’
‘No, it’s not. I shouldn’t have worried you like that. I’m such an idiot sometimes. I don’t even know … all I know is when I’m around you, all the bad things just go away. I love you so much.’ He gathers me up in his arms and I can feel how he’s shaking, and suddenly this conversation out here in the moonlight feels like the most real thing that’s ever happened to me.
‘I love you too.’
‘Am I forgiven?’ Aaron whispers into my hair.
‘Always.’
The letter rounds off a painful morning the next day. Painful because Aaron stayed for another half an hour and by the time I’d got back to sleep it was practically dawn. Mum had to bang on my door three times before I managed to get myself out of bed. I was seriously thinking about faking another illness, but I’ve missed so much college already and there’s only so many times you can have period pains, stomach upsets and migraines.
So I haul myself into the shower. About twenty minutes later I’m massively glad I did because as I’m going out of the front door, the postwoman comes up and hands me a pile of letters. I’m about to leave them on the side and go, but something makes me stop and flick through, and there it is: a letter with the college logo, addressed to Dad. I shove it in my bag, put the rest of the letters on the side and yell goodbye to Mum, then bang the door closed.
Aaron’s not at the bottom of the track. I leave it as long as possible, then run for the bus and take a seat right at the very back, looking the other way as I pass Esi. Which is fine, because she’s ignoring me too. Once Grumpy Sharon’s got going again, I slide the letter out of my bag.
Sometimes you pretend to yourself that things aren’t going to happen, which I suppose accounts for the shock when I see that I’ve been put on to Stage 2 of the disciplinary procedure, and that they want Mum and Dad to come into college for a meeting to discuss my absence. There’s also an email on my college account saying I have a meeting with the College Manager, Mr Bowyer. Today. It was sent last week, but of course I’ve somehow been too busy to check my emails properly.
I sit back in my seat, the letter crumpled between my fingers while my tired brain tries to work out how to get out of this one. The only reason Mum and Dad don’t already know about the lessons I’ve skipped is because Dad would never bother with the ParentPal system and Mum is too technologically incompetent. And, I think with a flash of guilt, because it would never occur to her I might skip out.
I text Aaron, but for once he doesn’t text straight back. I put my phone away and sit there, feeling weird, like there’s this space I’ve got so used to being filled and suddenly it’s empty. Then we get to Cal’s stop and I’m slightly worried in case Cal comes to sit with me, because I know Aaron’s got a thing about him, but he doesn’t; he sits with Esi, which somehow makes me feel worse. I don’t know if he’s actually seen me, but it still stings.
When we arrive at college I do what I do best: I shove my shoulders back, put on a smile, and breeze down the bus as Cal and Esi are getting off. ‘Hey!’ I say, only looking at Cal. Esi hurries away and Cal stares after her for a minute before turning to me.
‘You’re not going to apologise to her?’ he says.
I’m so taken aback by this, I don’t say anything for a minute. Then I turn the smile up and say, ‘I don’t know what she told you, but I’m not the one who needs to apologise.’
‘Is that so?’ Cal holds my eye and I get a seriously uncomfortable feeling, like he knows things I don’t. ‘You don’t think she has a point, about Aaron? He’s taking up pretty much all of your time, isn’t he?’ he adds.
I feel like a comedy cartoon character, mouth hanging open while my brain goes totally white. Cal doesn’
t say stuff like that to me, especially not about Aaron.
A moment later, Cal’s giving me an awkward half-pat, half-guy-punch on my shoulder and saying, ‘Think about it, ’K? And let me know if you want to rehearse,’ before walking off.
I watch him go, wondering how everything, everyone, has changed so fast.
‘Hey, Gemma! You standing there all morning?’ It’s Rachael. I’ve never been more relieved to see her. Rachael is just … well, Rachael. Uncomplicated. ‘Oh my God, is that Tiffany’s too?’ she says, looking at my bracelet.
‘Oh … yeah, Aaron got it for me for my birthday,’ I say.
‘You guys are like some Hollywood couple. It’s totally, grossly unfair,’ she says.
‘I know,’ I say and try not to sound smug, but I’m so … relieved, I guess, that Rachael’s not in a pisser with me, because everyone else seems to be. Then I let out a huge yawn without meaning to.
‘Lover boy keeping you up at night?’ Rachael says.
‘Something like that,’ I say, and then I can’t resist telling her about last night. Not exactly because I want to make her jealous, but because I want to maybe … check.
She listens with wide eyes, then sighs. ‘He threw stones up to your window because he missed you? That’s so romantic. I can’t believe how into you he is.’
‘Oi,’ I say, going for a smile, but I’m so tired it fades out before it gets properly started.
‘You know what I mean. There must be something up with him, though?’
‘Like what?’
‘I don’t know. He’s like the model boyfriend. He’s not making up for something, is he?’ She wiggles a little finger.
‘Nope,’ I say. Then I glance around to check we’re alone and say, ‘He does text quite a lot though. Says he misses me.’
‘Urgh!’ she screeches. ‘You’re killing me. He doesn’t have a brother, does he?’ We go into the refectory, me trying to work out how to put my feelings into words.
‘It’s, like, a lot of texts. Most mornings … well, every morning and—’
‘Wish I had someone texting me good morning,’ Rachael interrupts as we get to a table containing Phoebe, Cal and Beth. Aaron’s friends – mine too now, I guess – are gathered in the usual corner.
I Hold Your Heart Page 15