by Cat Clarke
Funny dream last night. I was in the bathroom, brushing my teeth. I bent down to rinse out my mouth, and when I straightened up and looked in the mirror, I saw Ethan instead of me. I looked down at myself, to confirm that I was in fact me. And I was. But when I looked at my reflection again, there he was, looking back at me in puzzlement. I reached out to touch the mirror, and the Ethan-in-the-mirror did the same. I touched my finger to my lip, and he traced his finger down his silvery scar. I wasn’t entirely freaked out. Some part of my mind just accepted it, and I carried on washing my face, brushing my hair, looking in the mirror pretty much the whole time. Mirror Ethan was wearing jeans and a green shirt that I felt I’d seen him in before. I was sorely tempted to take off my pyjamas, just to see if Mirror Ethan would do the same. But it didn’t seem the right thing to do.
I turned to leave the bathroom, and then quickly spun back round to face the mirror. I didn’t know what I was expecting to see, but it was still Ethan, looking like I felt – a little bit stupid and shifty. When I came back into the bedroom, Ethan was asleep in the bed, wearing my pyjamas. I leaned over him and listened to him breathe. His breathing was laboured. Suddenly he opened his eyes, scaring the life out of me. He whispered, ‘Wake up, sleepyhead,’ and reached for my hand.
And then I woke up. I felt a bit strange. Almost peaceful. Serene and accepting. The dream only came back to me later, after Ethan had been here. Before then, I’d just felt like I’d had a really good night’s sleep and I was somehow ready to tackle the day ahead, whatever it might bring. Even though I knew full well it would only bring three square meals, an enigmatic kidnapper and not a whole lot else.
When Ethan came in after lunch I was sitting at the table staring into space, trailing my fork back and forth across the plate. He perched on the edge of the bed, which was starting to become a regular occurrence. He said nothing, merely tucked his hands under his thighs as if to keep them warm, and then looked at me expectantly. I did have something on my mind.
‘How do you know what foods I like?’
Ethan said nothing.
‘Seriously, how come everything you’ve cooked for me or brought me is something I like?’
He shrugged.
‘I mean, I don’t want you to think I’m not grateful or anything, cos I am. I just think it’s kind of weird. You’d think that you’d have got it wrong once or twice. But there hasn’t been any fish, or broccoli, or nuts, or Brussels sprouts for that matter …’
‘Grace, no one likes Brussels sprouts.’
‘Huh. Good point, but still, you know what I mean.’
‘What do you want me to say? That I’ve been secretly spying on you for months, carefully noting down all your food preferences? Would that make you feel better?’ He was mocking me and I didn’t like it.
‘No, I just want you to tell me the truth. And it would be nice if you tried not to be too sarcastic while you’re doing it.’
‘We like the same things, Grace. Haven’t you noticed?’
‘Er … no. I haven’t.’ I sighed. ‘Whatever. It doesn’t matter anyway, does it? None of it matters.’
‘Don’t be like that. It all matters. All of it. When are you going to see that?’
Now I was getting really quite annoyed. Yes, enigmatic can be sexy, but it can also just be plain irritating.
‘Do you mind leaving? I’ve got stuff I want to do.’
‘If you say so, Grace.’ He didn’t seem to mind my rudeness. Just gathered up my dishes and left without another word.
After Ethan left, I thought about our conversation. There’s something I’ve noticed about the way he talks. He says my name A LOT. I think it’s a little strange. I mean, it’s normal to say someone’s name a bit, but saying it over and over again is kind of creepy. I wonder why he does it, or if he even realizes he’s doing it. I have this vague idea that maybe he’s trying to remind me who I am. In case I forget in this weird room of whiteness.
Dad used to say my name a lot too. I think he liked the way it sounded. Sometimes he called me Gracie-bear. It made me cringe, but I let him get away with it, cos it was just Dad being Dad. I think he stopped calling me that about the same time I went to secondary school. I didn’t notice or anything. I suppose he must have just phased it out – a small concession to the fact that his little girl was growing up. I’d give anything to hear him say it one more time. Or to hear him say anything. Or just to see him, sitting in his shabby old leather chair, frowning at the crossword.
I’d give anything.
day 21
Yesterday was pretty much a write-off once I got all maudlin. I cried and cried and cried. Ethan came in at one point. At least I think he did. It was all pretty blurry and hazy, but I think he sat with his hand resting on my shoulder while I lay sobbing on the bed. Or was that a dream? I can’t remember. Hmm. Losing touch with reality = not good.
I saw Nat a couple of days after me and Sal made up. I’d never even mentioned Sal to him before, which was a little bit weird, granted. But it was too messy to explain, and it didn’t exactly show me in the best light. And I definitely wanted him to see me in the best light (all soft focus and angelic … but not too angelic).
I hadn’t called or texted him after the thing with Devon. The ball was well and truly in his court this time. The waiting was agony. I’m not exactly the most patient person in the world. I prefer to go out and get things, rather than waiting for them to come to me. Plus, I’m never completely convinced that things are going to come to me anyway, so I like to make sure. But this time I was determined to wait. It was such a relief when he texted. I guessed that he and Devon must have sorted things out.
We agreed to meet in a pub in town after his shift. The pub was quiet when I arrived. Nat was sitting in the far corner, a pint in front of him, staring intently at the phone in his hand. His right leg was jiggling up and down under the table, and he was wearing the trainers he’d worn the night we met. They’d lost their shiny white newness. He looked good.
I walked over and touched his shoulder. He jumped a little, before jamming the phone in his pocket and standing to kiss me. His mouth tasted beery, but in a nice way. It had only been a few days, but I had missed kissing him. He got me a drink from the bar without me asking.
I took a sip. ‘Is this a double? Are you trying to get me drunk, mister?’
He wiggled his eyebrows at me. ‘Why? Would that be a problem?’
‘As long as you make sure to take advantage of me later, I’m fine with it.’ I leaned across the table and kissed him again. ‘So, what was so fascinating on your phone? It had better not be naked pictures of some other girl. Or naked pictures of some boy, for that matter.’ I mock-grimaced at the thought.
‘Maybe it was naked pictures of you.’
‘You don’t have any! And don’t try and say you took one while I was asleep, cos I know you’d do nothing of the sort. You’re too much of a gentleman.’
‘That’s what you think … Nah, it was just a text. Nothing important.’
I was curious about the mystery text, but I didn’t want to come over all psychojealousgirlfriendy, so I let it go. Nat told me what he’d been up to the last couple of days, while I listened, intertwining my fingers with his and generally gazing at him adoringly. Urgh. I HATE girls like that.
After a couple more drinks and a rather heated debate about the merits of various universities compared to others, I told him about Sal. I was so excited about them meeting each other.
‘Oh yeah, Devon mentioned some girl you were mates with.’ Nat didn’t seem all that interested, which kind of hurt a little bit. But I suppose it was fair enough. He wasn’t to know, was he?
‘She’s not “some girl”, she’s my best friend. We sort of fell out for a bit. It was just before I met you actually. Anyway, it was stupid, and everything’s totally cool now.’
‘Why didn’t you mention her before?’ Nat was looking at his pint glass, slowly turning it in his hand.
‘I dunno
. Didn’t see the point, I suppose. I didn’t think Sal and I would ever be friends again and … I felt a bit stupid and sad about it all. And I didn’t want it to put a downer on how things were going with us.’
‘You could have talked to me about it, you know.’
‘I’m sorry. I should have, but let’s just forget about it. Sal’s dying to meet you, so we’ll have to sort something out soon. You’re going to love her!’
‘Sounds cool. I’m going to get more drinks in.’
While Nat was at the bar, I went through the conversation in my mind. So, he was a bit annoyed with me for not telling him. And he didn’t exactly seem wild about the prospect of meeting Sal. But he was a boy, and boys just don’t get excited about the same things we do. I was sure he’d be fine about it soon.
A bit later, Nat asked me why I’d fallen out with Sal. Maybe he was interested after all. I had no intention of telling him the truth – Sal wouldn’t have thanked me for that. I didn’t exactly feel happy about lying to him, but sometimes honesty isn’t the best policy.
‘It was stupid really. Just some ridiculous argument that snowballed out of control. And we were both too stubborn to apologize.’
Nat looked sceptical. ‘So it wasn’t even serious?’
‘Nah, not really. It seemed that way at the time, but it’s all in the past now.’
‘Man, girls are weird.’
I smiled. ‘Hey! Watch what you’re saying!’ I punched him gently on the shoulder. ‘Haven’t you ever fallen out with any of your mates?’
‘Yeah, I suppose. Sorry.’ He looked thoughtful.
‘Hey, it’s all right.’
‘Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking …’
‘What?’
He shook his head slightly and said, ‘Nah, it doesn’t matter.’ He picked up his pint and took a few gulps, then reached across the table and squeezed my hand. He gave me that look. ‘Listen, let’s get out of here. There’s no one home at mine.’
‘Thank God for that, cos my mum’s actually in for once. And although I’m sure she’d LOVE to meet you, I don’t think tonight is the night … considering what I’ve got in mind for you.’ I leaned across the table and brushed my lips against Nat’s ear, whispering the filthiest thing I could think of. It had the desired effect. I barely had time to grab my bag before he dragged me out of the pub.
Nat flagged down a taxi and we clambered into the back seat. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other. Managed to refrain from taking things too far, but it took more than a little bit of willpower. Plus, I wasn’t keen on the looks I was getting from the taxi driver in the rear-view mirror. The thought that he was getting a free show was kind of distracting. I pulled away from Nat and looked into his eyes. Beautiful. And he wanted me. He really, really wanted me. In that moment, I felt so lucky. And, in a weird way, sort of powerful. He was lost in his lust. It felt like I could have got him to do anything I wanted. Luckily for Nat, all I wanted him to do was me.
The sex was unbelievable. Nat was different – he was definitely the one in control this time. Made a nice change. Afterwards I lay beside him, my body pressed against his side, my left leg comfortably nestled between his legs.
I was happy.
This is getting harder. I want to put down the pen and tear up all this paper into tiny little pieces, throw them in the air and let them fall like snow. I could turn this room into one of those tacky snow globe things. A snow globe for a giant. Let the bath run and fill the room to the ceiling with water. I would drown, but that might be nice.
day 22
Ethan’s here. Every time I look up, he’s there, staring into space. He came in to take away my lunch stuff and then returned a couple of minutes later, just as I sat down to write. He seemed a little jumpy. I looked up at him expectantly. ‘Hi, again.’
‘Hello, Grace.’
I waited for him to say something, but he seemed reluctant to do so. I sat with pen poised, and he stood with his back against the door.
‘Do you need anything?’ I wanted him to say something – it was getting a little bit weird.
‘No. I … would you mind if I stayed for a while? I won’t disturb you.’
I hesitated, and Ethan continued, ‘I just want to be here.’
Now this was interesting. I didn’t really know what to say, so I just nodded dumbly. He said a barely audible ‘Thank you’ and settled himself on the floor in the corner nearest the door.
And so here we are, sitting in a sort of companionable silence. Ethan has his back to the wall, with his legs drawn up in front of him and his arms wrapped around them. His chin is resting on his knees. He looks like a little boy – a lost little boy. His feet are bare, his toes just peeking out from the bottom of his frayed jeans. Every so often he absentmindedly rubs his right wrist with his left hand, before going back to hugging his knees to his chest.
I wonder if I should say something, or go to him.
I won’t.
I can’t.
Sal and I got our exam results. Even with all that craziness going on, Sal had managed to blitz them. I did too. Neither of us was surprised – maybe just a tiny bit relieved, but that was all.
I saw Sophie in the school hall. She was talking to Devon. I had no idea that those two knew each other, but it was hardly surprising. Not to be mean or anything, but they were both sort of geeks. And I mean that in the nicest possible way. I tried to catch Sophie’s eye, but she was too busy leaning close to Devon, looking at the piece of paper in his hand. Those two certainly had nothing to worry about when it came to exams.
Tanya was holding court in a corner with her usual cronies. She saw me and waved me over. ‘Grace! You and Sal fancy coming to mine tonight? My folks are in Barbados and the house is practically begging me to have a party in it!’ A couple of years ago I’d have jumped at the offer. But not any more. It’s weird how things change.
‘Nah, can’t. Sorry, Tan. Got plans.’ Which don’t involve shagging some stranger in your parents’ bedroom.
‘God, G. You’re so BORING! You never come out and play these days.’ She pouted for a moment and then laughed. ‘Whatever. Congrats on your results, anyway. Hear you aced them.’ I stayed and chatted for a minute or two before heading back to Sal. The idea of going to Tanya’s party appealed to her about as much as it did to me.
When we got outside, I texted Nat to tell him my results. I kind of wanted to impress him. He was studying medicine, after all. The boy had probably never had so much as a B in his entire educational career. Mind you, me neither (well, I’d had two, but who’s counting?).
We went back to Sal’s for lunch. It was cool to see her parents and little brother again. Sal’s family always seems so normal. It was nice to be a part of that for a while. They didn’t question the fact that they hadn’t seen me for a couple of months, which was a relief. God knows what Sal had told them. It must have been awful for her, trying to hide what she was going through. I don’t know how she did it. It’s easy enough for me, with a mother who’s nowhere to be found more often than not. I could probably have given birth to triplets and raised them at home without my mum noticing. But with two parents who actually care? And a nosey little brother too. That was seriously impressive.
Sal’s parents were dead pleased with her results, and seemed almost as happy about mine, which was sweet of them. They even cracked open a bottle of champagne in our honour. I made a mental note to call home later and tell Mum how I’d done. Of course, I’d probably have to remind her that I’d taken some exams first. Sal and I went up to her room to polish off the champagne and get ready. The plan was to have a proper night out – our first since the Badness had all kicked off. I was looking forward to it.
When Sal was finished getting ready I eyed her up approvingly. She looked hot, no question. I felt a twinge of jealousy, but no more than that. This was Sal’s night. I was determined that she was going to forget about everything that had happened. And not just cos I was intending on getting her
blind drunk. Don’t get me wrong – I was fully intending to get her blind drunk, but the purpose of the evening was to have a laugh. And if Sal happened to get a cheeky snog from a fit boy or two, then all the better.
‘Jesus, Sal, you look amazing!’
She looked all coy. ‘You think?’
‘Oh yes. You’re going to be in trouble tonight.’
‘What do you mean?’
I laughed. ‘Don’t look so worried! I mean, you are going to be getting A LOT of attention … particularly wearing that top …’ She had major cleavage going on.
Sal hurried over to the mirror behind her bedroom door and quickly examined herself from every possible angle. ‘Do you think it’s a bit much?’
‘If anything, I’d say it’s not enough!’
‘I’m going to change it.’ She started to pull the top up over her head. I jumped up from the bed and pulled it right down again.
‘Don’t you dare! You look wicked. Right, we’re going. Come on, get your coat, love, you’ve pulled.’ I winked at her, and she looked at me sceptically, before reluctantly straightening her top and taking one last look in the mirror.
‘Grace, I’m not on the pull tonight, you know.’
‘Yeah, but you never know, Prince Charming might be just around the corner, or more likely propping up the bar. Never say never …’
‘It’s too soon, OK? I’m not ready for anything. You do understand that, don’t you? Please tell me you do, otherwise we might as well stay in.’
I sighed. ‘Yeah, I understand. That’s totally cool. You just let me know when you are ready though, cos I am going to find you an amazing boy. I can’t promise he’ll be as amazing as my one, but I’ll see what I can do!’
Sal was looking too thoughtful so I dragged her out the door, hoping to leave whatever bad thoughts she was having far behind us. We said a hurried goodbye to Sal’s family. Her dad wolf-whistled at us in that classic embarrassing dad way. Sal rolled her eyes at me, and we both laughed.