by Sarah Ayoub
24
I hate that the answer to a problem is usually the one you don’t want to hear
The tears streaming down my face feel almost as heavy as the pouring rain. I’m pedalling so fast I can barely see where I’m going and almost collide with a pedestrian. I stop and realise I’m in Shehadie’s street. He’s the only person I want to see right now so it’s no coincidence I’ve ended up here.
I chuck Viola’s bike on his front lawn and bang on the door, forgetting this is the home of an elderly couple. He answers, wearing a white T-shirt and jeans. Even though he’s got glasses on and is holding study notes, he looks so hot I almost forget why I’m here.
‘Sophie?’ he says. ‘What’s going on?’
He looks puzzled, but still pulls me off the doorstep and into the shelter of the veranda. I blubber something incoherent.
‘You’re soaking wet!’ he says. ‘Did you walk here? Never mind, we can talk about that later. Come into the living room and I’ll get you some towels. Silly duffer.’
I smile inwardly at this boy who can sound like an Australian grandmother one minute and a bloke’s bloke the next.
He makes me a cup of tea, and then I find myself sitting on a rug in his grandmother’s house and pouring out my heart to the person I swore I’d never talk to again. We talk about everything – exams and Dora and Leila and Andrew and the police and my dad. And somewhere in the middle of all that, when my heart stops sinking from the weight of all my dramas and I go quiet, he hugs me.
After what seems like a long while, I pull away.
‘I’m an idiot,’ I whisper. ‘I’m so sorry for how I treated you. How the hell were you supposed to know I was banking on a date to the formal?’
‘It’s okay,’ he says, smiling at me. ‘I know how necessary melodrama is to your sense of being. If overreacting meant that much to you, I guess I was happy to be part of it. There’s no way you can go into accounting without a dose of the theatrical to keep you afloat.’
‘I was a little jealous,’ I admit. ‘I was hoping that this year everything would change. And by everything I mean I’d look hot at the formal and have a gorgeous date as my arm candy. And I’m only half-joking about that being everything, which makes me sound shallow, I know.’
‘The thing is, you never let me explain why I’m going with Jen.’
‘Because I really didn’t want to know. And I still don’t.’
‘Well, you need to, especially if things are going to go further between us. She’s a part of my life and I don’t want to change that.’
I stare at him in shock, wondering how I get roped into these situations. Does the guy want to go out with me, but still have his girlfriend on the side?
‘Jen’s mum and my mum were best friends,’ he says. ‘Jen’s in eighty per cent of my childhood pictures. Our mums used to take us everywhere together, and from the moment we got to high school they kept saying how much they wanted us to go to the formal together. They couldn’t wait to see how great we’d look in the pictures. So going with Jen is my way of doing something for my mum, that’s all.’
I nod.
‘You’re disappointed,’ he says.
‘No, not at all.’
‘I can tell you are. Don’t be embarrassed. Girls get hung up on that crap. God knows why.’
I shrug. ‘There’s a lot invested in it. We look forward to it for a long time, and keep the pictures even longer. And maybe it’s more than that for me, seeing as I’ve never really gone on a date or anything. It’s like a semi-date.’
‘Please don’t make me feel guilty,’ he says.
‘It’s not my intention, I swear to you.’
He sighs. ‘I believe you. Aaah, this whole situation just sucks. Never in a million years did I think that my mum would die, I’d get expelled from school and my dad would be too wrapped up in his own grief to deal with me. Or that I’d move in with my grandparents, go to a Lebanese school and actually meet someone I like there. Someone I like a lot.’ He smiles at me. ‘But since we’re talking like this, I should probably tell you –’
‘Oh God,’ I say. ‘What now? I’m not sure I can take any more.’
He laughs. ‘I’m serious, Soph. I don’t want you to find this stuff out from someone else. There’s more to why I moved here … or was moved, I should say. I got expelled from my last school. After Mum died, I just started hating everything. I felt so hurt, and so alone. I did everything I could to escape the hurt … including drugs –’
I gasp and he smiles at me apologetically.
‘Nothing hard,’ he says, looking ashamed. ‘But enough to do some damage to my reputation, my relationships and my record. I got myself into some pretty bad situations, even with my dad.’
‘How bad are we talking?’ I ask.
‘Some pot in my room, passing out in the bathtub, waking up and going to school. Mostly it was just about forgetting everything. But then it started messing with my head. Dad was working hard to avoid coming home to his wifeless house, and I got convinced he was having an affair with his secretary.’
‘Oh God, Shehadie, that is so clichéd,’ I say, not sure whether to laugh or hug him.
‘And that’s only the half of it. One time, I saw them together and he laughed at one of her jokes. It killed me because it was the first time he’d been happy in months. I was gutted. I grabbed the first thing I could and threw it at her car, breaking the windscreen. She resigned from her job, even though she’d been working for Dad for ages. She was just so shaken up. That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I was shipped to Tayta and Pop’s place, and then I met you and suddenly the darkest period of my life feels like it happened for a reason …’
My face goes red.
‘I hope it goes to show you, Soph, that you’re not the only one with dramas and problems. We’re all teenagers, and we’re all human. We just have different issues, and we all deal with them differently. You write about yours in your journal – which I hope will convince you that it’ll be a waste if you don’t study arts or something other than accounting.’
‘Everyone needs to lay off me and my journal,’ I say, shoving him.
He laughs and then looks at me seriously. ‘I should’ve told you earlier about Jen, but I was a bit of a coward. I wanted to tell you about the other stuff too, especially because you might have heard about it at the footy game, but I was too embarrassed. It didn’t bother me before, maybe because it felt like a typical teenage phase, but then I freaked out that it might change things between us. I would’ve loved to go with you to the formal, but maybe hot Sophie could spare me a dance?’
He searches my face for an answer, then starts smiling because he knows it before I say anything.
‘Um, have we met?’ I say. ‘Need I remind you of my unbelievable awkwardness that will guarantee I have a lot of dances to spare?’
‘You don’t give yourself enough credit,’ he says, reaching for my hand. ‘You looked so good at that cruise thing. And not just because you were in a miniskirt.’
I don’t know what to say, so I comment on his glasses.
‘I wore them the first few days of school, remember?’
‘Don’t flatter yourself, Goldsmith,’ I say, giggling.
‘I don’t need to flatter myself. I remember you checking me out.’
‘You remind me of Clark Kent,’ I say suddenly.
‘What, my glasses?’
‘Everything. Your look, your mannerisms, your attitude …’
‘So is that a good thing or a bad thing?’
‘It’s a very good thing,’ I say, smiling.
‘Because Clark Kent is Superman?’ he asks coyly.
I grin. ‘Something like that. I have a bit of a superhero thing.’
He holds out his hand to pull me up, and we walk back down the corridor. On the way, I notice a poster on one of the doors.
‘Is this your room?’ I ask, peering around the door.
‘Yes, but you’re not goin
g to like what’s in there.’
I open the door wide and walk inside. It’s a typical teenage boy’s room: TV and stereo, video games and DVDs strewn about, and lots and lots of boxes. There’s a suitcase in the corner, piled high with winter clothes. On top of the pile is Shehadie’s bulldog jumper.
I turn to face him. ‘Are you going away?’
‘Something like that,’ he says, shuffling his foot. ‘Dad and I are going to rekindle the bromance by doing everything Mum wished she’d done before she died. We’re going to have fun in Disneyland, ski in Aspen, shop up a storm in New York, get our French on in New Orleans and get drenched at Niagara Falls. And then we’re going to eat gelato in Rome, do the Sound of Music tour in Salzburg, visit the Tower of London and the Mona Lisa, along with all this other stuff.’
I smile at him. ‘So it’s like a gap year?’
He nods. ‘All five months of it.’
‘What? Five months?’ I say, shocked. ‘When? What about exams? Uni? Your life?’
What about me? I want to ask.
‘By the time I leave, the exams will be done and dusted. Everything else just goes on hold. Plus it’ll give me more time to think about what I want to do at uni. I’m thinking psychology, because I’ve had a lot of practice on you.’
I slap his arm. ‘Sue wants to go to the States. Maybe you guys can meet up?’
‘Maybe,’ he says noncommittally.
I’m quiet.
‘Don’t you have anything to say?’ he asks.
‘How long have you known?’ I ask softly, testing the waters.
I wonder if he’d thought my heart was unbreakable, but then I remember telling him I never wanted to speak to him again. After that performance, my heart would have been the last thing on his mind.
‘We booked three days ago,’ he replies. ‘It seemed right at the time. I mean, school would be finished, you never wanted to speak to me again, and I know Zayden and I will email every other day so that particular friendship won’t be affected.’
We both laugh.
‘At least he’s been a bit better to you lately,’ I point out. ‘Then again, was he going to be mean to you forever?’
He smiles, then looks pensive. ‘I have to go, Soph, for her sake,’ he says, staring at the suitcase. ‘She was the most amazing woman. And I owe it to Dad too, because he knows he stuffed up big with me. But who knows, I might be back before you know it, before you’ve even had a chance to realise that accounting isn’t for you and enrolled in something else.’
‘Maybe by that time my dad will let me speak to boys,’ I say.
We stare at each other for a while.
‘So, when are you leaving?’ I finally ask.
‘One week after the formal. So there’s plenty of time for some final hurrahs.’
‘I don’t hurrah,’ I say. ‘Especially if I don’t know what’s going to happen.’
‘I really am sorry, Soph. But let’s just play it by ear.’
‘You say that now, but when you’re travelling through America wearing that horrendous jumper and thinking you’re like Superman because I stupidly told you you were, and there are gorgeous women everywhere, willing to fall at your feet or in your bed, I’ll be the last thing on your mind.’
‘I doubt it,’ he says.
I don’t reply, because I want to believe him.
‘I’d better get home and face the music,’ I say, after another silence that seems to last a decade. ‘Dad’s probably going berserk.’
‘You didn’t tell him where you were going? Wow, you really are breaking the rules.’ He suddenly looks paranoid. ‘He’s not going to come looking for you here, is he? You didn’t write my name in that bloody journal of yours and leave it lying around?’
‘What did I say about flattering yourself?’
‘Sorry, miss,’ he says. ‘I’ll text Sue to come and get you so you don’t have to ride in the rain. I hope her boot fits that bike.’ He peers through the window. ‘It’s so little – is it even yours?’
When Sue rings the bell and I open the front door with red-rimmed eyes, she doesn’t know what to make of the situation. She glances from me to Shehadie and then back to me again, and says, ‘I’ll ask questions later.’ I love her for knowing that I’ll tell her everything in my own time.
It’s stopped raining, but there are still some clouds in the sky. I think of Shehadie leaving and wonder when I’ll get my rainbow. Sue backs the car into the driveway and opens the boot. Shehadie lifts the bike effortlessly and puts it inside.
‘Is there anything you can’t do?’ I tease.
‘I pretty much suck at flying,’ he says with a smirk.
‘Shame, I could have used some visits from overseas. Europe is awfully far away.’
‘We’ll work something out,’ he says, wiping my hair away from my face. ‘Now go on home and face your dad.’
‘Shehadie, I’m sorry, but I really have to know. What the hell is with that ugly bulldog jumper?’
He laughs. ‘It’s the Yale University mascot. Dad studied there on exchange in the eighties, and that jumper was my mum’s favourite.’
I smile at him as I get into Sue’s car. Finally, a reasonable explanation for his terrible flaw. The only problem? Now I think he’s perfect.
25
I hate discovering that my loved ones are hiding the biggest secrets
By the time Sue drops me home, it’s getting dark. Mum is perched on a chair on the veranda waiting for me.
‘Thank God,’ she exclaims as I walk up the front path. ‘I was worried sick about you.’
I go to say something but she waves her hand at me. ‘It doesn’t matter now. Well, not to me anyway. I didn’t think you were doing anything wrong.’
She gets up and grabs me in a hug.
‘I wish you’d stood up for me,’ I whisper to her.
She pulls away and looks at me. ‘Is that what you think? That I never stand up for you?’
I don’t say anything and Mum sinks back into her chair.
‘I stand up for you in my own ways, Sophie,’ she says. ‘You know in our culture it is wrong for a woman to raise her voice like a man. She has to behave like a lady.’
‘And I think that, along with a lot of other cultural rules, is bullshit,’ I say, sitting down on the top step.
‘It’s not the same for every village,’ she says. ‘Ours was just a bit more old-fashioned than others. But don’t worry, we Lebanese women have our ways when it comes to the men in our lives. How do you think I got your dad to shut up when you were yelling at him? Just one look from me and he knew he had to let you say your piece, which I don’t exactly blame you for. And don’t let me get started on that party you went to recently …’
She gives me a knowing look.
‘I hate how the girls are treated so differently,’ I say finally. ‘It’s ridiculously unfair. And that stupid rule about no one marrying you because you go out or sleep somewhere away from home is crap. Everyone does it these days. Am I never going to be able to spend the night at a hotel or sleepover for a friend’s birthday?’
‘That’s a rule I agree with, for now,’ she says. ‘It is for your own safety. But we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. I know you worry, Sophie, but you’re still young. Don’t be in a rush to grow up so fast, okay? Take it from me, once you’re too old, you’re too old.’
She smiles gently at me and I smile back.
‘When you’re older, you can run your house differently,’ she says. ‘You won’t have to do all the housework, your daughter won’t have separate rules to her brother, you can go out with your friends without being labelled a bad mother.’
I love how Mum’s teaching me a lesson without even trying. Here I am thinking I’m invisible, when she’s missed out on so much. My heart aches as I realise she’s never really had a chance to be young.
‘Your father and I are from a different time and a different place,’ she says, ‘which makes it harder for us than for pa
rents who were raised here. We think of things so differently. What we’re trying to do is meet you guys in the middle, but both journeys will take a while to reach their destination.
‘I want you to know, Sophie, I’m not as powerless as you might think. It is good for a man to feel like he is the boss. I know how to negotiate with your father and make him think that my ideas are his ideas. It’s certainly better than screaming the roof down around us.’
I smile at this side of Mum I’ve never seen before.
‘You are old enough to know this now, and you’ll see it for yourself soon enough. Men run around like headless chooks without us. So don’t feel sorry for me, okay?’
She gets up from her chair and pulls me up off the floor. ‘Go up to your room,’ she says, patting me on the back. ‘I’ll send your father up in a few minutes.’
‘Do I have to?’ I ask in a singsong voice.
‘If you want to stop feeling invisible in this house, yes.’ She takes a look at my face and smiles mischievously. ‘Don’t think I don’t know what goes on inside my own home,’ she says, winking.
I walk inside, and head upstairs quietly. When I pass Andrew’s room, I notice the door’s closed, surprise, surprise.
‘He is grounded for a month and not very happy about it,’ Dad says behind me. ‘I think the police will be laying charges – they arrested that Zayden boy. But as Sister Magdalena told me, Andrew’s involvement was minimal so he will probably get a community service sentence.’
I spin around. ‘Baba,’ I start, but he waves me into my room.
‘We’ll talk inside, Sophie.’
I sit on my desk chair, and he sits on the bed. He looks like he’s struggling to know how to begin.
‘You were right today, Sophie,’ he says finally. ‘Everything you said, you had a point.’
I open my mouth, but he puts his hand up, signalling that he needs to finish.
‘I didn’t like the manner in which you said it, especially in front of your siblings – raising your voice at me like that. But I am willing to think that’s because you thought you didn’t have any other way to talk to me, which you probably didn’t. Unfortunately, Sophie, we don’t live in a perfect world. Your mother and I were raised in a very simple environment. Things were different. A girl lived with her parents, spent some time in the village with her friends, got married and started a new life. There was hardly any work except sewing or being a housemaid, so everything was far simpler.