Hello World

by Joanna Sellick

  Before my body can betray me, I run to the bike shed and unlock my bike, riding away from the texts and the stares and the whispers. I push myself, going as fast as I can, anywhere away from there.

  In an instant I find myself at mine and Alex’s hill. Mine and Alex’s. Not Jay’s.

  I reach its peek before my knees finally give way and I collapse on the dirt, holding my head in my hands and trying to muffle the violent, angry sobs escaping my body.

  I trusted him, my minds screams at me, as if I don’t know it already.

  Everything that had happened over the past two weeks has been a big, fat, huge, awful lie and I’m paying the price for being so stupid.

  Because I am stupid, aren’t I? I was an idiot to think that after what had happened to Alex, I could ever be happy again. Stupid to think that I could ever move on and have a damn future.

  My hands scrunch up into tiny fists, my nails digging into my palms as I try desperately to stop the shaking.

  Every muscle, every organ and every thought just hurts. This is a completely different pain to that of losing Alex. Losing Alex had been agony. This is so much darker, and plucks at my heartstrings one by one. It feels as if someone has just torn apart the newly closed stitches, letting out everything I’ve tried to put behind me over these weeks.

  How can they have known? How can my tormentor have possibly known about that night on the bridge? Only two people know. Me and Jay. I certainly haven’t passed it on to anyone else.

  A new wave of pain floods over me, causing the tears that I have almost kept at bay to come rushing out at an unstoppable pace.

  I deserve this.

  ‘Neve!’ a strained voice calls. Someone drops down beside me, resting a hand on my shoulder.

  I flinch away from their touch, straightening up and rounding angrily on the only person who could possibly know I’m up here.

  That’s what you get for showing him this place. That’s what you get for letting him in.

  I run a hand through my hair and quickly wipe at my eyes before facing Jay.

  His cheeks are red and warm from running and his eyes are filled with fear and worry. His mouth has lost its usual cocky grin and hangs open as if he wants to say something but doesn’t know how.

  I can’t stand to look at him.

  ‘Get off of me!’ I scream at Jay, shrinking away and turning around, almost tripping on my own two feet because I’m shaking so much.

  ‘Neve, please,’ Jay begs, running up behind me. I round on him then, not being able to stop the tears that are prickling at my eyes.

  ‘Leave me alone, you Bastard. I never want to see you again!’ I yell, straining my voice muscles so they hurt as well. Everything else is hurting, they may as well join the party.

  ‘Please, let me explain-’

  ‘There’s nothing to explain. I trusted you and that was a mistake. Just have your gloat and leave me the hell alone.’

  ‘I didn’t tell anyone anything! I swear. You have to trust me-’

  ‘Trust you?’ I shout in disbelief, a humourless, twisted laugh leaving my lips. ‘I can’t trust anyone, Jay. That’s who I am! I don’t even know your damn first name, how can you expect me to trust you?’

  He just stands there, dumbstruck and without an answer.

  I stand there too, waiting.

  I want to move but I just can’t. I want him to give me an answer, to tell me why I should trust him. I want a reason to believe him.

  But he says nothing.

  I shake my head and turn away, taking about ten agonising steps before he finally finds his voice and speaks.

  Just one word.

  ‘Jeremiah.’ That’s all I hear him say, so quietly I almost miss it.

  Confused, I slowly turn around to face him again.

  ‘Jay is short for Jeremiah,’ he explains sheepishly.

  I sniff and wipe my eyes. ‘That’s a stupid name.’

  He chuckles slightly. ‘I know, it makes me feel like a seventy-year-old with round glasses and a pipe,’ he admits shyly. Seeing he has my attention, he closes the gap and grips my arms. ‘Neve, I haven’t said a single thing to anyone. I promise you that.’

  I look into his green eyes and try to read them as best I can. Then I just nod, not trusting myself to do anything else as the waterworks start again. Relief passes over him and he envelops me in a huge hug. I rest my head against his chest as he holds me, breathing him in and trying to calm myself. My palms are throbbing from where I have been gripping them so tightly.

  ‘Who did this?’ Jay whispers softly into my hair, still holding me tight as if I might break at any moment.

  ‘I don’t know,’ I reply helplessly, shaking my head. ‘The only thing I can guess at is that it has something to do with Alex, but I don’t… I don’t know…’

  ‘Has anything like this happened before?’ he asks softly.

  Yes, I think.

  ‘No,’ I lie, glad that I’m still attached to his chest so I don’t have to lie to his face. I don’t know whether to trust Jay or not. To be honest I’m not sure about anything at the moment, all of my emotions feel as if they’ve spent weeks going around in a washing machine.

  If these texts have shown me anything, it’s that some things are best kept hidden, never to see the light of day.

  Jay pauses a moment, evaluating whether to ask the next question or not.

  ‘Neve, what happened to Alex?’

  Instead of answering I shake my head violently. ‘No, I can’t. I can’t do that to him…’ I tremble, sobbing heavily into Jay’s shirt.

  The truth is that I’m not the only who had secrets. Alex had his fair share, dark secrets he couldn’t share with anyone, or even admit to himself half of the time. He couldn’t even bare to tell me, and when he did it was too late for me to help.

  But I can’t do that to Alex now. Those secrets aren’t mine to tell.

  Jay just murmurs words of understanding before following them with things such as, ‘ssh, it’ll be okay,’ and ‘you’re okay now, you’re safe.’

  Noticing my clenched hand, Jay takes one of them and unfolds it so gently I don’t really notice it, rolling his thumb over the harsh dents my nails have left, soothing me slightly.

  At last, I take a step back and dab at my eyes for the last time.

  ‘Sorry,’ I splutter, noticing Jay’s ruined shirt. Mascara and eyeliner now stain the material, along with a few tears. Jay just waves a hand dismissively. Then I frown. ‘What am I going to do? The whole sixth form, and probably the whole school by tonight, will think I’m suicidal?’

  Jay chuckles. ‘It’s just school rumours. In a way, whoever did this spared you some sympathy in doing it the day we broke up, everyone will have forgotten by the time we get back. And I’ll politely show anyone who hasn’t where they can go,’ he winks.

  ‘What a great way to start Christmas, ho ho ho,’ I mutter sarcastically.

  ‘Speaking of,’ Jay announces, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and directing us away from the peak and back down the hill. ‘What are you doing for Christmas?’

  ‘Erm, not much, why?’ I ask wearily, not too sure what I’m so nervous about.

  ‘Mum always hosts a big Christmas meal for family and close friends and stuff. Wanna come? You can stay for the day if you like?’

  ‘I couldn’t possibly,’ I start, taken aback by the invite.

  ‘Of course you can,’ Jay laughs. When I continue with my uneasy look he rolls his eyes. ‘Mum loves you. Promise me you’ll at least think about it, okay?’

  I stare at him for a moment before smiling. ‘I’ll think about it,’ I promise.

  ‘Good.’ Seemingly satisfied, he starts smiling to himself.

  ‘So, Jeremiah, huh?’ I grin. His face falls.

  ‘Shut it, Red.’

  CHAPTER 11

  Despite the friendly banter we toss back and forth on the way home, I can’t help the numb feeling of uneasiness and insecurity that keeps creeping over me. It
’s left me feeling exposed, like someone has taken my clothes and left me shivering and alone in the middle of some dark, abandoned street.

  There’s another feeling I can’t quite place too. It’s like I’m standing in the cold, facing a house and never knowing if the door is going to let me in or just stay shut. And if it was to open, the thought of what I could or could not find on the other side gives me shivers.

  All of this has plagued my thoughts throughout the night, which is why I end up spending Saturday cooped up in my room after mumbling some lame excuse to Jay when he phones about me not feeling great.

  So, I’m currently perched on my wide windowsill, my head resting on the glass as I watch the rest of the world move around me. Our house is on a fairly busy street, so there is always someone walking past.

  My sketch pad and college applications lay precariously on the edge of my desk, untouched since yesterday morning as I stay in one place, content in my own thoughts and wrapped in an old hoodie that is far too big for my tiny frame.

  Oddly, it’s one of Alex’s. He had left it over here at some point before he died and I had stumbled on it about a week after the incident. I think I had cried for a good four hours over this piece of clothing and kept hold of it ever since rather than giving it back to his parents. I don’t know whether it makes me selfish, desperate or just weird, but it gives me comfort, something that is often few and far between. I need comfort right now.

  The thought of it makes me smile slightly. The hoodie is a dark blue and still smells faintly of him, unless my mind is playing tricks on me.

  Alex would carry his guitar around with him a lot if we weren’t in school, so I was used to sitting on the windowsill on days after school while Alex perched himself on the end of my bed, playing around with a few notes and always asking, ‘does this sound, okay?’ Which was usually followed by a ‘ah, you’re right, its crap. I’ll start over,’ without me saying a single word.

  He’d written a few songs, and he had the voice to sing them too, but normally he was never quite happy or content with the work he had done, and so would all start over again the very next day. I’d pointed this out a million times, but he would always shrug and grin with his lop-sided smile.

  ‘Music is a beauty in itself, why would I want to just hang around playing the same old thing when I can move on to find something new?’ He would counter.

  ‘Because a moment ago you were calling it a piece of shit.’ I would always laugh, swinging my legs underneath me or hugging my knees depending on my mood.

  ‘The music isn’t,’ he would always argue, pulling an expression as if he was trying to impersonate some wise guru. Then he would wink. ‘The way I play it… sometimes not so much.’

  We’d had the same argument so many times, neither of us really winning or coming to a conclusion at all, yet we continued to do it anyway. Still, his guitar kept him happy.

  She hides behind those hazel eyes

  Shuts the world out, whispers her goodbyes

  But she doesn’t know what she’s missing

  She doesn’t know who she’s missing

  Or who’s missing her

  Alex always used to joke that I was the girl in that song, continually locking myself away, absorbed in my sketch pad, although I had been a social butterfly then compared to how I am now, but I always used to argue that the fact we both shared hazel eyes, didn’t make us the same person.

  He’d also gone on to write a song about a girl with bright red hair, but it was so cheesy it isn’t worth mentioning.

  It still amazes me, and hurts, to think that only just over four months have passed since Alex died. It feels like a lifetime.

  My lips suddenly quirk upwards. This time two weeks ago I was on a crazy road trip with Jay; it’s funny how time works. Sometimes it can go so slowly its agony, and other times it passes by in an instant.

  Jay.

  That odd boy with a chirpy smile and a shoulder to lean on.

  I can’t quite work it out; why he wants to help me so much. Sometimes, it’s like he needs to help. But I guess that it’s just part of his caring nature.

  The smallest, most insecure part of me still has doubts about that text; how had my tormentor known about that night if they hadn’t got the information from Jay himself?

  I’ve learnt my lesson, I can’t trust anyone, not really. I was right not to tell Jay about my tormentor, either from the start or when he had asked yesterday. God only knows how much damage that could do.

  Yet the more dominant side of me wants to believe him.

  Whether it’s because I’m actually sure he hadn’t done it or whether I just need him not to have done it I don’t know. Because I need Jay. I haven’t realised how much I need someone to lean on and vent to and laugh with until now, and now I have it I just can’t let it go.

  Distantly, I hear the doorbell ring and then Charlie yelling at me.

  ‘Yeah?’ I yell back down, sticking my head out of the door.

  ‘There’s a… boy here for you,’ he replies uncertainly. ‘I’ll get the nutcracker.’

  ‘What? No!’ I yell, taking the steps two at a time whilst trying to drastically flatten my hair into some sort of presentable style.

  I expect to find Jay, but it’s not him at all. It’s Blake.

  And he looks worried.

  ‘Nutcracker?’ he croaks, pulling on his collar uneasily.

  ‘Ignore Charlie, he’s an idiot,’ I reply dismissively.

  ‘Hey!’ I hear Charlie shout in defence, but promptly ignore him.

  ‘What can I help you with?’

  ‘I just swung by to make sure you were okay,’ Blake explains, a little sheepishly. ‘I heard about the thing at school. I would have come by last night but I didn’t get in until one.’

  My eyes widen. ‘Wait, you’re telling me you actually go out when Jay and I aren’t around?’ I ask, exaggeratedly.

  Blake narrows his eyes.

  ‘I was going to be all gallant and caring but now I’ll just get to the point, you’re coming with me for a walk. Hop to it,’ he instructs, folding his arms.

  ‘Oh, I am, am I?’ I retort, smirking and mimicking his stance. Blake winks.

  ‘Uh-huh. We need to talk, and I am officially scared to cross that threshold,’ Blake announces, probably terrified that Charlie really will come storming out with that damn nutcracker. Unfortunately, the reality of that is all too probable.

  I think longingly of my cosy room. The walls are technically red, but one day two summers ago, Alex and I had literally chucked buckets of paint around so the walls became splattered with yellows, pinks, oranges and greens. Aside from that, various band posters, photos and drawings I have done fill any blank space. Hanging from the ceiling are dozens of paper cranes, hung high enough that I don’t continually bump heads with them. I can’t quite remember their origins, but I’ve been adding to them ever since the very first one was hung.

  Although not particularly big, I had managed to squeeze in my single bed, wardrobe, drawers and desk. I even have an old red beanie bag. This leaves little room for movement though.

  My room is my favourite place in the world aside from the coffee shop, and when feeling as numb as I do, I never want to leave.

  ‘Ten minutes,’ I warn him. Blake shrugs, not seeming particularly bothered.

  I grab some shoes and put a coat over my hoodie since it’s freezing outside before heading out of the door, all the while making sure Charlie stays in the lounge. Blake seems genuinely worried for his manhood.

  ‘Are you okay?’ he asks, worry creasing his features as soon as I shut the front door.

  ‘Fine and dandy,’ I reply dryly. ‘I’ll be fine.’

  ‘Wait, I think I can get this one,’ Blake says, putting his fingers to his temples and creasing his face in concentration. ‘I’ll be fine means no in girl code, right?’

  This makes me laugh properly for the first time today.

  ‘Ah, soon you’ll be a pro,’ I
tease. ‘Fine, it stings, but there isn’t anything I can do about it. How did you find out anyway?’

  Blake’s grin drops. ‘Jay told me last night. He’s worried about you, I think he’s still secretly scared you’ll never want to see him again.’

  ‘He’s really scared of losing me?’ I frown.

  ‘He’s a big girl like that,’ Blake winks, but I can tell that means yes. ‘Don’t give up on him, he’s a good guy. Besides, I’d miss having you around,’ he smirks, nudging me.

  ‘But what about all your other friends, the ones you were hanging out with last night?’ I tease. He makes a face.

  ‘They’re great, but they’re not you,’ he says wistfully. ‘Besides, I don’t share their interests.’

  ‘Basically, you’re too nerdy for them?’

  ‘Touché. Nah, they’re crazy arty types, completely wacko.’

  I slap his arm then, because I’m a crazy arty type.

  ‘Ouch, joking, I’m joking. You’re mean for a girl,’ he whines, rubbing his arm.

  ‘And you’re a pansy for a guy.’ At my statement, Blake straightens up to his full height and I have to admit, he does look kind of intimidating, but it only has me in more laughter.

  ‘Hey Neve, can I ask you something?’ Blake shifts awkwardly. My guard flies up, but I nod anyway. ‘Did you guys, you and Jay, really meet… like that text suggested?’

  Jay hasn’t told him. Even after all of this, Jay hasn’t told him about how we met.

  I go to nod but hesitate, everything from yesterday coming back at me. Telling Blake will just mean one more risk, one more person who knows my deepest secrets.

  ‘An anonymous texter can hardly be trusted to tell the truth,’ I murmur, looking at the floor. Sensing my unease, Blake simply nods and lets it go.

  ‘If it helps,’ Blake adds quietly. ‘I’d miss you.’

  I steal a glance but Blake is looking elsewhere, that distant look in his expression the same one Jay sometimes gets.

  I smile.

  It does help, just a little bit.

  CHAPTER 12

  Glancing at my hand, I muse over the funny feeling that is still running through it. Yesterday, just before he left, Blake had tried the whole gallant-thing he had intended to arrive with, which had him kissing the back of my hand and taking a sweeping bow when he said goodbye. Needless to say, Blake hadn’t dared take a step up the front path for fear that Charlie would come rushing over with a sledgehammer.