The Circle (Hammer)

by Elfgren, Sara B. ,Strandberg, Mats

  The memory of the grave brings with it other unwelcome thoughts. In her mind’s eye, Rebecka sees the figure reflected in the window, and feels again how her muscles tensed, as if she were preparing to defend herself. She tries to relax again, to hold on to the bliss of just a moment ago.

  ‘What is it?’ Gustaf asks.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  Gustaf leans away from her slightly so he can look at her. ‘It’s like you’re … I don’t know how to put it … like you’re always somewhere else, these days.’

  Rebecka opens her mouth to protest, but Gustaf asks, ‘Has something happened?’

  She wriggles closer and presses her forehead to his chest. She’d rather not be looking at him when she lies to him. ‘No.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘There’s a lot going on at school,’ she says.

  She hears Gustaf’s heart beating inside his ribcage and wonders how it feels to be him, so calm and confident in all situations.

  ‘You spend a lot of time with Minoo now,’ he remarks.

  Rebecka is surprised yet relieved by the change of subject. ‘Yes. I really like her. She’s so clever. And nice. She can be funny, too – sometimes I think she doesn’t realise it.’

  ‘We should do something, the three of us, some time.’

  ‘M-hm.’

  ‘Do you think she’d like any of my friends? Rickard, maybe?’

  Rebecka imagines Rickard and Minoo together and has to giggle. Rickard is sweet, but he only ever talks about football. That couldn’t be more wrong for Minoo.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Minoo’s in love with someone.’ It just slips out of her.

  ‘Who?’

  She’s promised not to tell anyone, and now she’s on the verge of doing so. It would feel so good to share a secret with Gustaf, to compensate for all the others she’s keeping from him.

  But, no, she thinks. It’s not my secret to tell, and Minoo would never forgive me. ‘I’m not allowed to say.’

  ‘Of course you are.’

  ‘No, I promised.’

  ‘Oh, come on.’

  ‘Why are you so curious? Are you hoping she’s in love with you?’

  She laughs when Gustaf pretends to scowl at her. Then he throws his leg over her, pins her to the mattress and tickles her. She lets out a shriek and starts to laugh.

  ‘Tell me.’ He’s laughing too.

  All she can do is shake her head –she can barely breathe.

  Eventually they calm down. He starts kissing her but now everything he does tickles. His stubble against her neck makes her cry out again, and she pulls up her shoulder to protect her sensitive skin.

  And as she’s lying there, she can’t understand how she could ever have doubted that he’ll love her no matter what happens.

  16

  REBECKA COMES HOME at midnight and stays up for another two hours with her French homework. Then she can’t sleep. Her thoughts are drawn constantly to the figure at the mall. And when she does fall asleep, it follows her into her dreams.

  I have to tell Minoo, she thinks, as she gets up the next morning.

  Immediately she feels lighter inside. She isn’t alone, after all.

  Music is filtering softly from the radio when she comes into the kitchen. Anton and Oskar are still asleep. Alma tries to lift Moa out of the high chair, and Moa lets out a high-pitched shriek that hurts Rebecka’s ears. Her mother is standing by the window with her battered mobile pressed to her ear, mumbling gravely.

  Rebecka takes the carton of buttermilk out of the fridge and glances at her.

  ‘No, I can’t do that,’ she says. ‘You’ll have to tell her yourself.’ She holds out the phone to Rebecka. ‘It’s your father.’

  Rebecka takes the phone, sensing that she’s about to hear bad news. ‘Hi, Beckis.’ Her father sounds tense. ‘I’ve got bad news. I have to be at a conference over the weekend so I’ll miss your birthday.’

  She shouldn’t care about something as childish as a birthday without her father, but she does. ‘Oh,’ she says, and stares at the fridge, focusing on a magnet that looks like a smiling bumble bee. She feels her mother watching her.

  ‘It’s very important that I’m there for it. Otherwise you know I wouldn’t—’

  ‘I understand,’ Rebecka breaks in. ‘Talk to you later. ’Bye.’

  Her father tries to say something else, but she hangs up.

  ‘Beckis,’ her mother says, in the soft voice that makes Rebecka’s skin crawl.

  Her mother wants to comfort her, but she doesn’t know that her tone and her pitying expression make everything worse. Rebecka just wants to pretend that nothing happened so she can forget about it.

  ‘It’s okay,’ she says, and avoids her mother’s eye.

  She puts the buttermilk back into the fridge. She’s hungry but decides to suppress it, which gives her that hard, powerful sense of control. The one she knows is dangerous.

  ‘How about we go out to eat? At the Venezia, maybe?’

  ‘I’m celebrating with Gustaf,’ says Rebecka.

  ‘Ask him to come with us.’

  ‘Maybe. Do we have to decide now? I’m so stressed out …’

  Her mother lays a hand on her cheek, and she has to stop herself flinching so she doesn’t hurt her feelings.

  ‘Okay. We’ll talk about it later,’ her mother says.

  ‘I’ve got to have a shower,’ Rebecka mutters, and walks towards the bathroom.

  ‘Wait a minute,’ her mother calls. ‘The principal rang, too. She wants to speak to you after school today.’

  ‘About what?’

  ‘A routine chat, she said.’

  ‘All right,’ Rebecka says, in as detached a tone as she can muster.

  She goes into the bathroom, takes off her nightie, turns on the shower and waits for the water to warm up.

  There’s no such thing as a ‘routine chat’ with the principal. It has to be about her eating disorder. She’s sure of it. It couldn’t be anything else.

  She steps into the shower and lets the water gush over her. There’s only one person she’s ever confided in about it. And that’s Minoo.

  There are five minutes to go before the first lesson starts. Minoo is sitting at the back of the biology class waiting for Rebecka.

  They don’t sit next to each other in every lesson they have together, but it happens more and more frequently. Minoo knows they should be more careful, but human contact is addictive. Before she’d got to know Rebecka it was as if she had put part of herself into the deep freeze – the part of her that longed for friends and companionship. But then Rebecka had come along and thawed her. Now Minoo understands that it’s one thing to be alone when you don’t have any friends, but being without them once you’ve got them is a lot more difficult.

  She looks at Anna-Karin, who is sitting on a desk at the front talking to Julia and Felicia. They’re not even in this class. Minoo had felt sure that Anna-Karin would eventually stop brainwashing Julia, Felicia and half of the school. She thought it was so wrong, so dangerous, that Anna-Karin would come to understand it sooner rather than later.

  Now she sees that maybe she isn’t going to stop. After all, she herself would never consider going back to being alone. Why should Anna-Karin be any different?

  Rebecka enters the classroom a few seconds before the biology teacher appears. It’s not like her to be late. She’s not wearing any makeup and has dark circles under her eyes. Yet she’s still so pretty. Minoo never gets tired of looking at her. There’s such variation in her features, so many different Rebeckas from one moment to the next, yet she’s clearly herself all the time.

  Rebecka sits next to Minoo but barely returns her smile. Instead she is preoccupied with putting fresh lead into her propelling pencil.

  Mr Post, the biology teacher, goes to his desk and turns to the class. He’s wearing the same red sweater with egg stains – at least, that’s what Minoo hopes it is – that he’s had on every time
she’s seen him.

  ‘Well,’ he says, ‘we’re going to talk about the fascinating world of plants.’

  He’s sucking a throat lozenge as he starts drawing a plant cell on the board. Someone lets out a muffled giggle. He went through exactly the same subject last time. Everybody knows why he sometimes falls asleep at his desk and why he’s always got a lozenge in his mouth. How else would he hide the smell of booze on his breath.

  Minoo writes in her notebook and slides it over to Rebecka. How are you?

  Rebecka stares at it as if it were a riddle. She spins her pen in her hand. Hesitates. Then starts writing.

  ‘Can anyone give me a synonym for cryptogam?’ says Mr Post and Minoo automatically raises her hand. ‘Milou?’ he says.

  Someone laughs. Minoo has stopped trying to remind him of what her name is.

  ‘Cryptogams are spore plants. Phanerogams are seed plants,’ she says.

  Kevin groans, and she regrets having answered the question more thoroughly than was called for. Why does she always have to be such a know-all? Why is it so important for her to see the teacher’s contented little smile when it makes the rest of the class hate her?

  Rebecka slides the pad back to her and Minoo reads it. Rebecka has written several things and erased them. The only thing that was allowed to remain is: Have you told anyone what I said to you at the fairground?

  Minoo goes cold inside. She meets Rebecka’s gaze and blushes. She’s innocent but becomes so nervous that she probably looks like the world’s biggest liar. She grabs the pen. No! Why do you ask?

  I’ve been called to the principal’s office for a ‘routine chat’. She looks at Minoo probingly and writes Sorry I doubted you.

  Minoo meets her eye and whispers, ‘It’s okay.’

  It’s more than okay. She feels as she did when she narrowly escaped being run over by that lorry. Rebecka nods and starts writing again. Someone was following me yesterday. Don’t know who but I’ve seen them before, the day after Elias.

  Minoo thinks of the figure outside the house that night. She scribbles down that she thinks someone’s been following her, too. When Rebecka finishes reading she looks up. Minoo knows they feel the same: relieved not to be alone. Afraid now that it is doubly real.

  Rebecka writes:

  We have to meet. All of us. At midnight. I’ll text the others and tell them. They have to understand now. I don’t know what we’re going to do but we have to help each other.

  Minoo nods. She wonders if Rebecka understands that she’s the only one who can hold them together. She’s the only one that everyone likes. The combination of Vanessa, Ida, Linnéa and Anna-Karin is like a minefield, and Rebecka is stopping the whole thing from blowing up.

  17

  ‘I’M SURE IT’S nothing,’ says Gustaf.

  They’re standing on the stairs. Rebecka is one step higher so, for once, they’re the same height. They’re speaking softly so their voices won’t echo.

  ‘She said it was a routine chat, right?’ he continues.

  ‘Have you ever had a “routine chat” with the principal?’ Rebecka asks.

  Jari Mäkinen from year twelve is running down the stairs with a pink bag that looks completely out of place in his arms. He and Gustaf greet each other with a nod.

  ‘Well, have you?’ Rebecka repeats, once Jari has disappeared.

  ‘No. Maybe it’s something new she’s starting. After Elias and that. She wants to speak to students who—’

  He breaks off. Rebecka swallows. This is it. This is the moment they’re going to talk about it.

  ‘Students who what?’ she asks.

  Gustaf presses himself close to her and breathes in the scent of her hair.

  ‘You smell nice,’ he mumbles.

  She almost shoves him away.

  He looks at her anxiously. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘What was it you were going to say about students like Elias and me?’

  Why don’t you say it yourself? she hears a little voice inside her say. Don’t wait for him. Tell him the truth. Minoo’s right. You have to trust him.

  ‘I just mean that maybe she wants to check up on all the new year eleven students,’ Gustaf says.

  Her disappointment in him and herself for their cowardice weighs on her chest.

  ‘I’ll wait for you outside,’ he says.

  ‘Okay,’ Rebecka mumbles.

  ‘I love you,’ he says. ‘You won’t forget that, will you?’

  They look at each other, and Rebecka discovers how close she is to tears. She can only shake her head in response.

  It’s dark in the principal’s office. The blinds are down and the only light is from the desk lamp. The shade is a glass mosaic, a circle of dragonflies standing wingtip to wingtip. There are no papers on the desk, not even a pen. The computer is switched off.

  The principal is wearing a dark-grey suit with a large silver brooch on the lapel. It looks old. Her bone-white blouse is buttoned up to the neck, and her black hair is perfectly in place. As usual her face is well made-up. It strikes Rebecka that many people would describe the principal as beautiful.

  ‘Sit down,’ the principal says, with a stiff smile.

  Rebecka takes the armchair placed in front of the desk. The principal looks her steadily in the eyes, but suddenly she is distracted.

  ‘Excuse me,’ she says, and reaches for a strand of hair caught on Rebecka’s knitted sweater.

  Rebecka doesn’t know what to say.

  ‘You’re probably wondering why I wanted to speak to you,’ the principal says, and drops the hair into the wastepaper basket.

  ‘I think I know why.’

  The principal has dark, intelligent eyes.

  ‘Yes?’

  The weight is still pressing on her chest. Rebecka has to force herself to speak. ‘Who’s been talking to you?’

  ‘Talking to me?’

  ‘Was it Julia or Felicia? Ida? Or was it the school nurse? Is she allowed to talk about that kind of thing? Was it Minoo?’

  She regrets adding Minoo’s name. She wants to trust her – she has to if they’re going to be friends. But why did she look so guilty?

  ‘What would they have said about you?’ the principal asks.

  She’ll start crying if she doesn’t close her eyes. She squeezes her eyelids together.

  Suddenly Rebecka knows what a relief it would be to let go. To let herself fall and see if they catch her. Let go of the fear that her secret will be exposed. Expose it herself instead.

  ‘We’d better start at the beginning,’ the principal says.

  Rebecka opens her eyes. The bewilderment on the principal’s face seems genuine and Rebecka realises she may have been mistaken. Perhaps this really is a routine chat?

  ‘Rebecka, what did you think this meeting was about?’

  Now she feels incapable of telling her anything. The secret has regained its hold over her. She gets up and grabs her bag.

  ‘Excuse me, I have to go,’ she says.

  ‘Wait!’ she hears the principal say as she shuts the door behind her.

  She runs down the corridor to the main staircase. Gustaf is waiting for her at the front entrance. Waiting to make everything good again. But she can’t see him now. Not with the panic still throbbing inside her. She needs to be alone.

  Rebecka continues up the main stairs and down a corridor. Then it’s as if her strength gives out. She leans against a wall and glides down on to her haunches.

  Only now does she become aware of how fast her heart is beating.

  Only now does she realise where she is.

  She’s sitting opposite the door leading to the toilet where Elias died.

  Ever since he was found it’s been locked and blocked off. It’s covered with notes and inscribed messages.

  R.I.P.

  We miss you!!!!!

  It’s better 2 burn out than 2 fade away

  Sorry

  Live fast, die young & leave a good-looking corpse

>   Sorry for everything, Elias

  Forgive me

  And, scratched deeply into the wall, clearly legible despite someone’s attempts to cross it out:

  The only good faggot is a dead faggot

  Rebecka reads the messages one after another. Down by the floor, something is written in beautiful black lettering:

  The good die young

  The fluorescent ceiling lights flicker with a tinny electrical sound. Then they go out.

  That’s how it is.

  It’s a voice that isn’t really a voice, more like one of her thoughts, and yet not. It sounds nothing like the voice that had filled her head that first night, when she was given the task of leader. That voice had been a guest. This voice has forced its way into her consciousnesse.

  What’s written there is true, it continues. The good can’t survive in this world. You’re too good, Rebecka.

  She recognises the fear that takes hold of her. It’s the same as the fear she felt when she was being stalked on the morning after Elias’s death. The same fear as she felt yesterday when she knew she was being watched.

  It’s you, she thinks. Her pulse is throbbing in her ears. Who are you?

  Get up.

  Rebecka’s body stands up immediately, as if she herself had issued the command. Open the door to the attic and go up the steps.

  Her feet start moving automatically. The attic door is ajar. She tries to focus her powers on closing it. But suddenly there is resistance: something is blocking her with a power much stronger than her own.

  Her vision blackens and she feels a trickle of blood run from her nose to her upper lip and into her mouth. It tastes of metal, earth and sweetness.

  Don’t fight it, the voice says gently. There’s no point.

  She mounts the narrow stairway leading to the attic.

  What do you want? she asks, but she knows the answer all too well. This was how Elias died.

  She’s reached the top of the steps. There are two doors: a rickety wooden one leading to the attic storage room, and a metal one leading outside. On to the roof. She sees her hand reach out and press down the handle of the metal door. The wind buffets her face when it swings open. The sky is blue, with white clouds chasing each other.