The Butterfly Novels Box Set: Contemporary YA Series (And By The Way; And For Your Information; And Actually)

by Denise Deegan

  Damien looks at me through the mirror. ‘What’s your character’s name?’

  ‘Naomi.’

  ‘Well, hel-lo, Naomi.’

  And while he takes continuity shots, I try to get used to the whole new person sitting in the chair looking back at me.

  Back in the, still empty, dressing room, I wait to be called. I sit at the mirror, trying out voices.

  ‘What are you looking at?’

  ‘Mess with me, I’ll rip your heart out.’

  ‘Daisy, you're dead.’

  I laugh. But no matter what I say or how many times I say it, nothing sounds right. Finally, I realise why. Naomi would think all these things; she’d never say them. She’d use a look. And that would be it.

  I wait ages to be called on set. When I finally am, I feel a jolt of nerves, like a shot of adrenaline. This is it. My chance. As I walk down the corridor, towards the exit, in my head I’m singing Eminem. ‘If you had one shot, one opportunity …’

  For exterior shots, they have a minibus to take us to the lot. It’s waiting outside. Onboard is a handful of other actors and crew. I try to climb up the steps without revealing my entire ass.

  ‘Hey,’ says a voice.

  I look up. It’s Josh Haley, sitting just inside the door.

  ‘Oh, hey,’ I say back. I sit in the seat behind him.

  He turns around. Smiles blankly. ‘You’re playing Naomi, right?’

  I nod. ‘Rachel, by the way.’

  ‘Josh … So this is your first time?’ he says, like he’s talking about sex.

  I can’t think of a comeback. And worse, I blush.

  ‘You’ll be grand,’ he says. ‘We don’t bite … Usually.’

  Another person gets on and the bus takes off. It’s six o’clock now. It’s dark and cold and I’m sorry I didn’t bring a coat. My teeth are chattering. We arrive at a fake world of one-dimensional buildings. On one side of the ‘street’ is the coffee shop, the deli, the book shop and the wine bar; on the other, the newsagent’s, the pharmacy and the restaurant. Another set, farther down and now in semi-darkness, features the clinic and the homes of the main characters. There are lights, cameras and groups of talking people. A Wardrobe person fiddles with my costume. A Make-Up person dusts Josh’s face. The floor manager comes over to us.

  ‘Right, we’ll do one rehearsal, then we’ll shoot. OK?’

  I nod.

  ‘You know your line?’ he asks me.

  ‘Got a light?’

  ‘OK. Good. Now try saying it like you mean, “Come to bed with me.””

  I nod in shock.

  Someone hands me an unlit cigarette. I hold it between my fingers and try to imagine I’ve been smoking all my life.

  ‘OK, we’re ready.’

  With fake confidence, I walk over to the fake pub. I wait in the fake shadow. With my real cigarette.

  ‘Five, four, three, two, one, action.’

  My heart jumps. The door of the pub opens. Joe walks out. He turns his collar up against the cold. From his pocket, he takes a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He taps out a cigarette and lights up. He inhales deeply, then tips his head back and blows smoke into the sky. Oh God. Here I go. I walk out from the shadows like a girl who wants everyone to come to bed with her. Joe sees me coming. We lock eyes. I move slowly like I’ve all the time in the world. I go right up to him, gaze into his eyes, let the moment stretch. ‘Got a light?’ A smile creeps over his face, like he’s imagining all the things he could do with a trouble-maker like me. He flicks open his lighter like he’s James Bond - the only good Bond, Daniel Craig. I lean into the flame, still holding his eyes.

  ‘And cut!’ the director calls. ‘OK, from the top. Places everyone.’

  Standing in the shadows, I become Naomi. I don’t care about anything or anyone. I do what I want, when I want.

  ‘And action.’

  I walk out like I own the world, like this guy with the lighter is nothing. I stand in front of him. I don’t ask for a light. Because I’m a taker. I don’t use words. I use my body. I put the cigarette slowly, deliberately, between my lips and lean into him. He does not have a choice. He looks surprised but totally turned on. And when he lights me up, it is like he’s answering a question.

  ‘Cut!’

  Crud, crud, crud, crud, crud. What was I thinking? I just ignored the script on my very first day. I’m going to be kicked off the show. Right here, right now. Before I even get a chance to appear on TV. Charley’s going to kill me. Oh God. The director’s on his way over. His strides are huge for a little guy. He looks so serious. I’m doomed.

  ‘What happened to the line?’ he asks me.

  I go for honesty. It’s all I’ve got. ‘I’m sorry. I just felt that someone like Naomi would use her body instead of words.’

  He looks surprised. Then says, ‘Right. Do it again. And stick to the script.’

  I nod quickly. ‘Sorry.’

  When he walks away, Josh whispers, ‘I thought it was good.’

  I’m so embarrassed. It’s my first time here and already people think I’m a diva.

  We go for a third take. This time I stick to the script. I try so hard to make it as good as the last time. But I know, in my heart, it isn’t.

  ‘And cut,’ he says. We turn around.

  ‘OK, that’s it,’ he says. His face is closed, no expression. ‘Thank you,’ I say.

  He walks off.

  ‘No need to thank him,’ Josh says quietly. I feel like a tool.

  ‘That was good.’ He says it like he’s surprised. ‘Ballsy.’

  I look around. People are already setting up for the next shot.

  ‘Are you going back on the bus?’ I ask him.

  ‘Nah, I’ve another scene.’

  Course he has. ‘OK, see you, I guess.’

  ‘Sure. Trouble.’

  Trouble? He has no clue how wrong he is. Why didn’t I just do what I was told? I always do what I’m told. Why break a lifetime’s habit the one time I needed to stick to it? I go back to the dressing room, relieved to find it empty. I strip out of the gear. I can’t believe I didn’t think of bringing casual clothes to change into. I climb back into my uniform. I sit in front of the mirror to remove the make-up. Without it, I look so young. So innocent. So me.

  I grab my bag. I’m sorry now I said I’d get a taxi home. I walk out into drizzle. I pull up my hood. I head for the taxi rank, feeling kind of lonely.

  ‘Yo!’ A car pulls up beside me.

  I turn. It’s Mark. It’s so amazing to see him. ‘What’re you doing here?’

  ‘We’d a match in Donnybrook. Thought I’d drive by and see if I could pick up any stars.’

  ‘This is your lucky day.’ I jump in and kiss him.

  ‘How did it go?’ he asks.

  ‘It was so good. Then I acted like a total diva.’ I tell him what happened.

  ‘Ah, you’ll be grand.’

  Sometimes, I wish he wasn’t always so casual. ‘Mark, it wasn’t what they wanted.’

  ‘Yeah, well, maybe what they wanted wasn’t what was needed,’ he says, so chill.

  ‘You should do debating.’

  He laughs. ‘Yeah. Imagine.’

  We drive to the studio gates. The traffic’s jammers.

  ‘Love you, baby,’ Mark says to a woman who lets us out. He blows her a kiss.

  ‘Did I miss much at school?’

  ‘Not much. The usual.’

  ‘That’s much.’

  ‘Nah. Anyway. I got you notes.’

  ‘Aw. Sweetie.’ He never takes notes.

  I call my mum, tell her I’m studying at Mark’s.

  His mum is out tonight and his dad’s due home late. So it’s just us and Mark’s kid brother Rex having takeaway pizza and Coke. Mum would be horrified. Which makes it taste better.

  Alex texts to see how I got on in D4.

  ‘OK, I think!’ I text back.

  ‘Did Louis call 2 C Maggie?’

  ‘Yup. Still here. B
etter go.’

  Yay! ‘Sure. C U tomorrow.’

  Afterwards, we go up to Mark’s room, which is a bit like Mark - a surprise. It’s got the kind of things you’d expect - basketball hoop, gum ball dispenser - then there are the books, shelves and shelves of them. He even has a wardrobe of books. Like a library. And in a corner of his room, he has a book city, skyscrapers of books like the Manhattan skyline. I never knew he was a reader until I started going out with him. I liked the surprise.

  We fly through the homework. Well, I fly. He keeps getting distracted. And trying to distract me. Finally, he gives up and collapses onto the bed with Lord of the Flies. He looks so cute, hair all ruffled, eyes following the words. I love it when he reads. He goes all still. Totally in the zone.

  ‘What’s the book about?’ I ask. The name’s familiar.

  ‘Flies,’ he says, without looking up.

  ‘Seriously?’

  He looks over. ‘No. It’s about a bunch of boys stuck on an island.’

  ‘What age?’

  He shrugs. ‘Junior school?’

  ‘Any good?’

  ‘Yeah it’s good,’ he says, like it’s an understatement. I’d love to have time to read just for fun, instead of always trying to cram more information into an already full brain. I go back to the notes. And try to be quick.

  By ten, I’m done. I run to him, rip the book from his hands and land on top of him.

  ‘About time,’ he says, smiling.

  We kiss. He smells so good. So Mark.

  ‘I want Caecilius. In a sexual way.’

  He laughs. Then we’re kissing again. We can’t get close enough, quick enough. His hands are everywhere at the same time. Magically. I don’t want to stop. He struggles with my top. I open his shirt. He rips it off, then pulls me close. I feel a bulge in his jeans. And smile.

  ‘Caecilius est horny,’ I say, reaching for his belt.

  He puts his hands on mine and stops me. It’s not a surprise. Ever since Alex got pregnant, he’s been paranoid that it’ll happen to us. Even though we never actually do anything that could make it happen.

  ‘Come on,’ I say. ‘We need to release the little guy.’

  ‘Less of the little.’

  ‘Big. Massive.’

  ‘All true, but he’s staying where he is.’

  ‘I have condoms.’

  ‘Which aren’t a hundred per cent safe.’

  ‘Ma-rk! We’re going out a year!’ Sarah’s done it. Alex has. Even if they hadn’t, I’d still want to. I just want to be with him.

  ‘I don’t want to risk it,’ he says.

  I can’t believe this is Mark. Who never worries. I should be happy, really. He’s being so sensible.

  ‘I just don’t want that whole situation for you,’ he says.

  ‘Or you,’ I say miserably.

  ‘OK, or me. We’re young, Rache. Let’s stay that way. Yeah?’

  I think of Alex, all that responsibility. How Maggie always has to come first. Alex last. At seventeen. I know he’s right - but that doesn’t help.

  ‘Might as well study, then,’ I say miserably, shoving my hand into the sleeve of my shirt. I go over to his desk, sit down. But I’m so aware of him, running his hands through his hair, sighing. He drags on his shirt. Goes to the window and opens it. He stands looking out - for ages. And I can’t be angry at him.

  ‘Let’s go out,’ he says.

  Five minutes after I’m back in my room, there’s a knock. Jack sticks his head around the door.

  ‘Hey,’ he says.

  ‘Hey.’

  ‘How did D4 go?’

  It’s half-eleven. I’m not going into it. ‘Yeah, grand.’

  ‘Did you meet Rebecca French?’

  ‘Jack, you’re so predictable.’

  ‘Yeah, OK, but did you?’

  ‘We’re sharing a dressing room,’ I say, like it’s no big deal.

  ‘I don’t fucking believe it.’

  ‘Jack, I told you. There’s nothing to worry about. I’m not taking any crap.’

  ‘Did she give you any?’

  ‘No. Look, I’m in there for three months. Rebecca French is not important. What is important is that I make an impact so I get other roles. That’s it.’

  He nods. ‘OK. Cool.’ He comes in, sits on the bed.

  ‘Jack it’s half-eleven.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘There’s this thing called school.’

  ‘Since when’s school more important than shootin’ the bweeze with my twin?’ he lisps jokingly.

  He hasn’t called me ‘twin’ in years. I love that he has. It’s like a rebellion. So I let him stay. And ‘shoot the bweeze’.

  FOUR | Cardboard

  The next day, we’re sitting in the school canteen.

  ‘I can’t breathe,’ Alex says.

  I stare at her. You can get a blood clot after a baby. ‘What is it?’ I ask urgently.

  ‘My skirt’s too tight.’

  I laugh in relief.

  ‘What?’ she asks, like I’m heartless.

  ‘Sorry. I thought it was something serious.’

  ‘It is serious. I’m huge.’

  ‘Open a button,’ Sarah says.

  Alex slips her hand under her pullover and opens her button.

  ‘This is seriously depressing.’ She shoves her plate away. Then pulls it back again. ‘I’m starving.’

  Around us, the canteen is buzzing. Usual people sitting in the usual places with the usual friends.

  Alex checks the clock – for about the tenth time.

  ‘You OK?’ Sarah asks.

  ‘She’s due a feed.’

  ‘Jane’s there.’

  ‘I’m her mum. I should be there.’

  ‘You will be,’ I say.

  ‘I hated leaving her this morning.’

  There’s nothing I can say to that. So I smile sympathetically.

  'Do you think she misses me?’ she asks, looking at us like she really needs an answer.

  No, yes - either way we lose.

  ‘You don’t have to be here, Ali,’ I say gently. ‘Leave it for a while. Most people take three months.’

  ‘No. I promised myself my life wouldn’t change.’ She takes a deep breath, then turns to me. ‘Tell us about D4,’ she says, like it’s suddenly the most important thing in the world.

  And so, to take her mind off Maggie, I do.

  ‘You diva!’ Sarah says to me. But looks impressed.

  ‘I don’t know what happened. I just don’t do things like that.’

  ‘Wouldn’t worry about it,’ Alex says.

  Which reminds me. There are bigger things.

  ‘So, did you meet anyone famous?’ Sarah asks enthusiastically.

  I think for a second. ‘No one on that show really is famous.’

  ‘What’s the actor who plays Joe like?’ Alex asks.

  ‘Josh? He seems OK.’

  ‘Yeah but d’you like him or not?’ Alex asks.

  ‘I’ve just met him.’

  ‘Yeah but what’s your gut feeling?’

  I shrug. ‘He was nice when I screwed up.’

  ‘How about the actress who plays Daisy?’ Sarah asks.

  ‘We’re sharing a dressing room.’

  ‘But what’s she like?’

  ‘She’s OK.’

  ‘So she’s OK? But you don’t know about Josh?’ Sarah says.

  ‘They’re both OK. OK?’

  ‘Only, when you said she’s OK, you sounded like she’s not.’

  ‘What?!’

  ‘You’re too nice,’ Alex says.

  ‘What d’you mean?’

  ‘You don’t diss people. Ever.’

  ‘Oh, my God. That’s so not it! I just need time to decide.’

  ‘How much time?’ Alex asks.

  ‘I don’t know. A year?’

  We laugh.

  Amy Gilmore comes up to our table and sits down.

  ‘What, Amy?’ Alex snaps.

 
People think Amy’s pretty. I just see her personality on her face. Cow.

  Amy ignores Alex, looking only at Sarah. ‘Did you post something on Shane’s wall last night?’

  Sarah goes white. ‘What?’ she asks quietly.

  ‘“Cadbury’s Flake Allure, yum”?’

  ‘I didn’t post that,’ Sarah whispers.

  ‘Then how did I read it?’

  Sarah says nothing.

  ‘You know, it’s kind of messed up that his wall is still up but, like, writing on it.’

  ‘OK, Amy, you can fuck off now,’ Alex says.

  Sarah gets up in silence and walks out.

  I stare at Amy. ‘What? You just can’t help being a total bitch, is that it?’

  ‘I was just trying to help,’ she says innocently. ‘You know, people are going to rip her apart if she goes on like that.’

  ‘Oh, you mean like you just ripped her apart?’ I say, then go after Alex who has just walked out.

  In the hall, I catch up with her. Simon is coming towards us.

  ‘Did you see Sarah?’ Alex asks him.

  ‘Yeah, she’s at her locker, getting her coat.’ He looks concerned. ‘Is she OK?’

  ‘Yeah, fine thanks.’

  When we get to the lockers, Sarah’s shutting hers. She turns and sees us. Her face falls even further.

  ‘You think I’m mad, don’t you?’ she asks quietly.

  ‘No!’ we say together.

  ‘I didn’t mean to post it.’ She sighs, closes her eyes and leans back against her locker.

  ‘So what if you did?’ Alex says.

  Sarah looks at Alex. ‘Sometimes I message him. Just to say hi. Tell him stuff. Silly stuff. Like, OK, “Cadbury’s Flake Allure, yum”. I know it’s dumb but when I press send, I imagine the words going out into the universe and getting to him. Somehow.’ Her eyes widen. ‘He can’t just be gone, you know?’

  Her voice cracks and she looks so lonely. I want to wave a magic wand and make things better.

  ‘I think it’s genius,’ Alex says. ‘If my mum had Facebook, I’d be on to her all the time, telling her what’s happening, telling her about Maggie, how alike they are, every little thing she’s missing.’

  ‘You’re not just saying that?’ Sarah asks.

  ‘Why would I?’

  ‘To make me feel better?’

  ‘Sarah, no one knows what happens, no one knows what’s possible. You know what I think? I think there’s so much energy in a thought that you can send it anywhere. I send thoughts to Mum all the time. And I know she gets them. I feel it. I feel her a lot, especially since Maggie was born. I think that humans have all these powers that we don’t use because we’re afraid to admit we have them. We have them when we’re kids and, over time, we switch them off. There’s so much that we never tap into. No one knows what’s on the other side, and we won’t till we’re there. But how pissed off will we be when we find out all the things we could have been doing and didn’t?’