by Cat Clarke
‘Oops! Sorry!’ Because that’s what you say when you bump into someone, before you realize it’s someone you’d gladly headbutt (again).
He grabbed my shoulders as if he was trying to steady me – except I’d never been in any danger of falling over. I was very aware of his thumbs pressing into my collarbones. ‘Oh, it’s you!’
‘Er . . . can I just . . . ? I’m going to be late for maths.’
Instead of letting go, he leaned towards me and whispered in my ear. ‘Always late for something, aren’t you? Curfew . . . maths . . . I wonder what’s next . . . Late for your period, perhaps? No, of course not. How could you possibly get laid when you spend all your time following that little gay boy around?’ His face was so close to mine that people must have thought something was going on between us. He laughed and kissed me on the cheek before I had a chance to dodge him.
I rubbed my cheek with the sleeve of my jumper. ‘Don’t ever touch me again.’
‘Don’t you worry about that. I wouldn’t touch you if someone paid me.’ He did this fake shuddery thing as if he found me physically repulsive.
‘Ditto. Shame you didn’t feel that way on Saturday.’ I don’t know why I was talking back to him. I don’t know where the courage came from. Normally I would just scurry away without saying anything.
‘Yeah . . . about Saturday . . . that was a dare, you stupid little fuck. What’s your excuse, eh?’
‘You’re lying.’
‘Whatever you say, darlin’. Whatever you say. Anyway, it’s been nice talking to you, but I’d better be off. Things to see, people to do.’
He swaggered off down the hallway, leaving me standing there feeling . . . feeling what exactly? It was hard to separate all the different things I was feeling at that moment. Angry, definitely. Annoyed. Embarrassed. I could handle those three. They were what you’d expect. But there was something else lurking at the edges. Something like disappointment. Something like sadness. And that made no sense whatsoever.
chapter twelve
I went straight round to Kai’s after school and was surprised that he was the one to answer the door. I was doubly surprised to find him smiling. He ushered me in and we went straight upstairs. He bounded up there like an overenthusiastic puppy. I trudged up there like I’d had the worst day ever. Which I pretty much had.
Kai sat down at his desk. There were three empty cups, which was unusual – he was usually so fastidious.
‘Um . . . you seem . . . better?’
‘I am better, thanks.’
‘Really?’ I wasn’t buying it – considering the state he’d been in the night before.
‘Really.’ He was fidgeting. His hands drummed a beat on his thighs.
‘Kai, this is me here. Be honest.’
He laughed and it was a genuine Kai belly laugh. ‘I am being honest. OK, here’s the deal. This video thing has happened and I wish it hadn’t, but there’s nothing I can do about it. There’s no point crying about it, is there? I’ve got to man up. Nut up or shut up, right?’ I said nothing, which was OK because he carried on talking without giving me a chance to answer. ‘So the plan is, I’m going to stay home tomorrow. No point going back on a Friday, is there? Then I’ve got Saturday and Sunday, and by the time Monday comes around, people will have something new to talk about. Hopefully there will be another party this weekend and someone will do something even more embarrassing and they’ll forget all about me . . .’ His voice trailed off into nothingness and he stopped fidgeting.
The onslaught of words was like hailstones battering my head. But even though he’d been speaking at the speed of light, I’d still caught it. ‘So it was at the party?’ It was the first time I’d broached the subject; I’d been waiting for him to say something first.
‘I didn’t say that.’ His words were measured now.
‘Kai, I recognized your stupid shirt as soon as I saw it.’
He shook his head and slapped his cheeks, and completely ignored what I’d just said. Under normal circumstances he’d never let me get away with dissing his sartorial choices. ‘God, I’m so tired. Not enough coffee. Not nearly enough coffee. Right, anyway, you’d better get going before Mum wakes up. Faking an illness is so much trickier when your Mum’s a nurse.’ He jumped up from his chair and held out his hand to me. ‘Off you go now. I bet you’ve got homework you should be doing, haven’t you?’
I nodded and allowed myself to be led downstairs.
‘Kai, are you sure you’re OK? You’re acting a little weird.’
He kissed me on the forehead. ‘Ah, Jemima! Weirdness is one of my many charms.’ Then he grabbed me in a bear hug and squeezed so hard I thought I might pass out.
I went to pull away after a couple of seconds, but he squeezed even harder and whispered in my ear. ‘Nope. I’m not quite ready for this hug to end. It’s a particularly good one, in my humble opinion.’
So we stood there in the doorway for a good couple of minutes and it was nice. Kai’s hugs always made the world seem a better, safer place. He didn’t smell quite as good as usual. The aroma of stale coffee was added into the mix, but at least that explained some of the weirdness. Kai and caffeine never did mix well.
When he finally let me go, he put his hands on my shoulders and it couldn’t have felt more different from that little scene with Stu in the corridor. ‘I love you, Jem. If I was one of those horrible heteros, I would ravish you this instant!’ He buried his face in my neck and pretended to ravish, whatever that meant.
I squirmed and jumped away. ‘Get off me, you big idiot! And don’t lie – if you were straight you would totally end up with someone like Sasha Evans.’
He tilted his head to the side and considered this for a moment. ‘Yeah, you’re probably right. I’m, like, waaaaay out of your league.’ I tried to hit him but he danced out of the way. ‘But if you sorted out that hair . . . I totally would.’
I shook my head and turned to walk down the garden path. ‘You know I’m kidding, right? You’re beautiful.’ His voice was different then, more serious. I turned back and looked at him. His face was serious too.
‘You are a big fat liar, Kai McBride.’ I stuck my tongue out at him.
Then I walked away. Without a backwards glance.
I never saw him again.
chapter thirteen
I called him a liar. That was the last thing I ever said to him. Sure, we texted loads the next day, but that’s not the same, is it? You are a big fat liar, Kai McBride. I was joking, and he knew I was joking. But that doesn’t make me feel any better.
I knew something wasn’t quite right. I knew I shouldn’t have let him shoo me out of the house. My excuse? I was so bloody relieved he wasn’t in the state he’d been in the night before. I wanted to believe that he really was feeling better about everything. I thought he was trying to talk himself into it, and if he needed me to play along, then that’s exactly what I’d do.
It was only later that night that I realized he hadn’t asked me about school. Which was the first thing I’d have done as soon as he’d walked through the door, if the situation had been reversed. I might not have wanted to know how bad it was, but I would have needed to know. I’d have needed to know what I was up against, how I was going to get through the next few days and weeks and months.
That’s what should have set every single alarm bell ringing – if I had half a brain. But I shrugged it off, blaming his overly caffeinated state. And when he still didn’t ask during the flurry of text messages the next day? I was glad. Relieved I didn’t have to explain that everyone was still talking about him. People were still coming up to me and asking questions or saying horrible, ugly things or smirking from a distance like Stu.
Friday night was a family night out – something I usually enjoyed, despite moaning and whinging about it every time. Without even planning to, I seemed to have made it my mission to never ever show any enthusiasm for anything arranged by my parents. Still, despite my best efforts, I think they secret
ly knew that I sort of liked spending time with them. I liked it when we were all sitting at a table together. There was something appealing about the ritual of it. Dad would pour Mum a glass of wine, Noah would crunch his ice cubes before drinking his Coke. Mum would tell him he’d break his teeth if he wasn’t careful. I would sit and observe. It was nice.
The venue for this particular family night out was Mr Chow’s. Dad and I loved Chinese food, while Mum and Noah weren’t all that fussed about it. But it was OK, because they’d get their choice (Mexican) next week. We had the best table in the whole place – the one in the bay window.
I was sitting with my back to the restaurant, so I didn’t see them come in. Mum did though. ‘Oh look, there’s Louise! And who’s that she’s with? He’s rather good-looking, isn’t he?’ My grip tightened on my glass of water. I half turned in what was hopefully a subtle way, but Mum had to go and ruin it by waving and calling out, ‘Hi! Louise!’ Louise had always been perfectly polite to my parents, so they had no idea what a poisonous bitch she’d become over the past couple of years.
‘Mum!’ I hissed through gritted teeth. ‘Everyone’s looking!’
Mum rolled her eyes. ‘Don’t be silly! No one’s looking . . . no one even cares!’
Louise was looking though. And Max. And his parents. His mum was tiny and round-shouldered, with a string of pearls that looked tight enough to choke her. His dad was older, with furry grey caterpillar eyebrows that were knit together in a formidable frown. Louise smiled and waved, but carried on walking to her table, thank goodness. Max nodded to acknowledge me, which was more than I would have expected, and his parents smiled politely before sitting down.
I wondered if this was the first time Louise had met Max’s parents. She certainly seemed completely at ease, as if she did this kind of thing every day. I would have been crazy nervous in her position – minding my table manners, struggling to eat spare ribs in a ladylike fashion, making sure I laughed in all the right places and didn’t laugh in the wrong ones. At least Max looked awkward – more than awkward enough for both of them, in fact. Whenever I looked over he seemed to be concentrating on his food. Louise was getting on so well with his folks it almost seemed like he was surplus to requirements.
Mum quizzed me about Max and Louise. How long have they been together? What’s he like? Is he a friend of yours? That last one made me laugh and roll my eyes. Mum was disappointed that the answer was an emphatic NO.
My phone buzzed in the pocket of my jeans. It was Kai: How’s family night working out for you? xxx.
I replied while Mum and Dad were distracted by the waiter explaining the dessert specials: Good, thanks. Except for the unexpected bonus of your sister and her boyf.
I kept the phone on my lap, waiting for a response that never came.
chapter fourteen
There were witnesses. People saw him do it and didn’t do a thing to stop him. I don’t blame them – not really. I can’t imagine I would have had the guts to intervene either. Not if it was a complete stranger.
The only reason they thought to look twice at him was that he wasn’t exactly dressed for the weather. There was torrential rain – like nothing I’d ever seen before. I was indoors, watching a DVD with Noah (James Bond was his latest obsession). And Kai was out there, wearing nothing but a vest and jeans and flip-flops.
They said he looked like he was out for a stroll. Like he hadn’t a care in the world. He wasn’t ranting or raving or looking crazy.
Reports differ about what happened next. One witness said he hopped onto the railing and stood there for a few moments. One said he crossed himself. One said he didn’t hesitate – that there was no time at all between climbing the railing and jumping. All the witnesses agreed on one thing though. He went head first.
The last person to jump from the bridge was a man named Gordon Powter a few months before. He’d been made redundant and was thousands of pounds in debt. He left behind a wife and three young sons. I knew the details because I’d read every article I could find about it. I made Kai go with me to the bridge, even though he thought it was morbid. He was always humouring me like that.
We’d leaned over the railing and watched the water gush over the jagged rocks. I’d wondered out loud if the rocks had killed Gordon Powter or whether he’d drowned. Maybe that’s what gave Kai the idea. Maybe if I hadn’t made him go with me it never would have crossed his mind to kill himself in that way. I couldn’t allow myself to feel guilty though – not for that. Kai probably chose the bridge because he loved the stupid river so much. He liked nothing more than to sit on a bench and watch the water flow by.
In the local paper they put a picture of Gordon Powter next to a picture of Kai, under the headline ‘BRIDGE OF DESPAIR’. Mum or Dad had clearly tried to hide it from me, but I found it in the recycling bin on one of my midnight forays for food. I put it in my desk drawer. I didn’t like the thought of Kai being recycled.
I was so relieved to see there wasn’t anything about why Kai had jumped, but I thought it was only a matter of time before some nosy journalist found out. Everyone at school was obviously keeping quiet about it – for now. Probably because they didn’t want to get in trouble.
The focus of the article seemed to be firmly on the bridge itself. I didn’t get that at all. The bridge was just a bridge. It could have been anything – a tall building, a razor blade . . . a bottle of pills. If people are going to kill themselves, they’ll find a way. The bridge just happened to be an efficient way to get the job done. There was hardly any chance you’d survive a fall like that, and even if you did, you’d be knocked unconscious and drowned in no time. Kai died straight away, or so they said. He hit his head on the rocks jutting from the middle of the river. I bet he was aiming for them.
Three days after it happened the police came to interview me. I refused to get out of bed (Mum was furious) so the two officers had to come up to my room. The female officer stood, while the male officer sat on my desk chair. I couldn’t stop looking at their shoes; they were so shiny and sturdy. Mum hovered in the doorway, looking awkward.
The woman did most of the talking. She was very brisk and businesslike, as if talking to me was just a formality. Which it was. They clearly hadn’t checked his emails, because they had no idea about the video. I was relieved; the thought of Kai’s private life being raked over by the police (and leaked to the papers, no doubt) was unbearable. And if the papers did manage to get hold of the story, it’d surely only be a matter of time before the video found its way onto the Internet. That’s all anyone would think about when they remembered Kai, and God knows what it would do to his parents. Louise must have kept her mouth shut, and I followed her lead. It helped that the police seemed to be going through the motions, as if they’d done this a thousand times before and it wasn’t getting any more interesting. They mentioned that Kai had left a suicide note, saying he was sorry and not a lot else. I guessed the McBrides must have given them permission to tell me that. Maybe they thought it would be comforting.
I answered most of the questions with one-word answers, and they didn’t exactly try to grill me. The McBrides must have told them he was gay, because they asked me about his sexuality. I just shrugged and told them we never talked about stuff like that. The female officer raised an eyebrow at that but she didn’t accuse me of lying or anything. Mum didn’t bat an eyelid, which made me wonder if Mrs McBride had told her too. The whole ordeal lasted no more than twenty minutes, but it was exhausting. Part of me wanted to tell them, because then they’d be forced to do a proper investigation and find out who was responsible. But I knew that Kai would have wanted me to keep quiet, and what Kai wanted was the most important thing of all.
The police left, saying that they’d be in touch if they had any more questions. Mum showed them out, then came back up to my room and perched on the edge of my bed, in the exact same place she’d sat three days ago. I relived it over and over again – the moment when she shattered my whole world.
>
She wasn’t crying when she came into my room, but I could tell that tears were lurking just below the surface. She was wringing her hands together and fiddling with the cuffs of her jumper – a gesture I recognized as one of my own. I don’t remember ever seeing her do that before. I wonder if I picked it up from her or she picked it up from me.
She perched on the edge of my bed and I pulled out my headphones, only realizing how loud the music was when I could still decipher every word. ‘What’s up? Mum . . . are you OK?’
She tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear and nodded. She didn’t say anything though, which is when I really started to worry. ‘Mum? You look . . . is it . . . is there something wrong with Grandad?’ He’d been battling colon cancer for the past few years and no one had expected him to survive this long.
Mum shook her head and put her hand on my knee. The gesture did nothing to comfort me; it only ramped up the panic. ‘No, darling, your grandad’s doing fine. The latest round of chemo was pretty rough, but he sounded cheerful enough when I spoke to him yesterday. Well, as cheerful as you can expect, anyway.’
Then she started talking about how we’d go up to visit him in a few weeks and how much he enjoyed seeing me and Noah. ‘He says you two are better than anything the doctors could ever give him.’
‘Mum?’ I was wondering why the hell she was going on about Grandad when she’d just said he was fine.
She looked at me and her eyes were filled with something that scared me. She’d never looked at me like that before. I’d seen it before though – albeit in a smaller, more measured way. When she watched some tragedy unfolding on the news. When my aunt came to stay after her husband left her. When Noah’s guinea pig died.
It was pity.
‘Oh sweetie, I’m so sorry. It’s Kai.’
And I knew. She didn’t even have to tell me. I knew.