Inside My Head

by Jim Carrington

‘Can I just go in here, Gary?’ I say.

  Gary shrugs his shoulders. ‘If you want.’

  So I step inside. Gary doesn’t follow me in. The shop’s packed full of ashtrays and place mats and fridge magnets, all with North Norfolk Coast or East Strand written on them. And there’s a load of T-shirts on a rail, with tacky slogans like surf dude. Over by the counter there are boxes of stuff, like rubbers and pencils and lighters. And right next to the till there’s a box filled with bottles of bubble mixture. I pick one up.

  ‘How much is this?’

  ‘Huh?’ says the man behind the counter. ‘Oh, fifty pence.’

  I smile. ‘Bargain!’ I take a £1 coin out of my purse and hand it to him.

  ‘What’s that?’ Gary says, when I come back out of the shop.

  ‘Bubbles!’ I say. I take the lid off, dip the blower in and then blow some bubbles. They float straight up into the air above our heads.

  Gary rolls his eyes and we keep walking. I put the lid back on the bubbles and put it in the front pocket of my hoodie.

  It’s quite cold outside now. And Gary’s just in his short-sleeved shirt. He has goosebumps on his arms.

  ‘Are you warm enough?’ I ask him. I sound like my mum.

  Gary nods his head. ‘I’m all right,’ he says. ‘Come on, let’s go to the pier.’

  I shiver and kind of hunch up in my hoodie to keep warm. ‘Wait a minute, Gary,’ I say. ‘I want to check my phone. Mum’s probably going crazy by now.’

  Gary stops walking. He turns and looks at me. He looks like he wants to say something. But he doesn’t.

  ‘You should call your mum too, Gary,’ I say. ‘She’ll be worried about you.’

  Gary shifts from foot to foot. ‘It’ll do her some good to worry about me for a change.’

  I take my phone out and switch it on. As soon as it starts up, it vibrates and the message tone beeps: four voice messages and two texts from ‘Mum Mobile’. ARE YOU COMING HOME SOON, ZOË? LOVE, MUM X LOVE YOU! AND WHERE ARE YOU? SHALL WE COME AND GET YOU? GIVE US A CALL. MUM X

  I want to cry.

  ‘Who’s it from?’ Gary says.

  ‘My mum,’ I say. ‘I’m gonna call her. What shall I say?’

  Gary shrugs. He puts his hands in his pockets.

  ‘I think I’m gonna ask her to come and get me,’ I say. Gary spins on his heels and looks in the other direction. I don’t think he wants me to go home. ‘She could give you a lift as well if you want, Gary.’

  He doesn’t turn back to me.

  ‘Gary?’ I say.

  He just looks at the pier, at the lights winking.

  Fuck him, then. I lift my phone to my face. My heart starts to thump. How am I gonna explain this to Mum? I can’t just say, ‘Can you pick me up from the seaside.’ So I try and think of an excuse. Gary’s geography homework was about seaside towns? Gary’s mum dropped us off here? But they just sound crap. So I close my eyes and press the green button anyway. It hardly even rings before someone picks it up.

  ‘Hello, Zoë?’ Mum says. She sounds worried.

  I take a deep breath. I want to cry again. ‘Hello, Mum.’

  ‘Oh, thank goodness it’s you,’ she says. ‘I was beginning to think you’d disappeared off the face of the earth! I wish you’d keep your mobile switched on.’ She sounds a bit cross, as well as relieved.

  ‘Can you pick me up, please, Mum?’

  ‘Of course, love,’ she says. ‘Where does Gary live?’

  I take a deep breath, look at Gary, at the bright lights on the seafront. ‘Um, I’m not at Gary’s house,’ I say.

  There’s a silence at the other end of the phone. I can picture Mum’s face. I feel guilty just thinking about it. ‘Well, where on earth are you, then?’ she says.

  Now it’s my turn to be silent. I look at Gary. He’s still looking at the pier. ‘I’m at the seaside,’ I say quietly.

  ‘You’re where?’ Mum says. ‘Zoë, what’s going on? Is Gary there as well? Are you OK?’

  ‘Yeah, I’m fine,’ I say. ‘We came to see Gary’s nan.’

  Gary swings round and looks at me. He looks confused.

  ‘She lives in East Strand, Mum. Can you pick us up?’

  There’s another silence on the other end of the phone. In the background I think I can hear Mum telling Dad where I am. Dad comes on the phone.

  ‘OK, Zoë,’ he says. ‘What’s her address?’

  Jesus! What on earth do I say now? Make up an address? Crap. Crap. Crap. Deep breath. ‘Oh, we’re not at her house any more. We’re at the pier now,’ I say. ‘Gary’s nan had to go to bed. And I wanted to see the sea.’

  Gary looks at me and shakes his head. But he looks like he’s about to smile, like he thinks it’s funny.

  ‘What?’ Dad says. He sounds cross. ‘Just wait there. We’ll be there as soon as we can.’

  It’s silent for a second. I can imagine Dad standing there, frowning. Mum’ll be next to him, looking worried. ‘Sorry, Dad,’ I say.

  ‘Just stay where you are and we’ll come and get you. Make sure you don’t talk to any strange people. Mum’ll phone your mobile when we get near.’

  ‘Love you, Dad,’ I say. And I hang up.

  Gary looks at me. He looks sheepish, like he feels guilty. ‘Were they all right, your mum and dad?’

  ‘Not sure,’ I say. ‘Don’t think they believe me. Still, what can they do?’

  Gary looks scared.

  ‘Are you gonna come back with us? There’ll be room in the car. They won’t mind giving you a lift.’

  Gary doesn’t nod or shake his head or anything. He just turns, looks at the pier and says, ‘So are we gonna go to the pier, then, or what?’

  I smile, nod my head. Gary starts walking. I catch up with him and put my arm through his.

  We walk to the pier in silence. Arm in arm. It doesn’t exactly feel right. But then it doesn’t exactly feel wrong, either. Just a bit awkward. The air is damp and salty and cold. There are quite a few other people out for a walk. Mainly old people, but there are some kids hanging about as well. Boys with shaved heads and baseball caps, and girls with hoop earrings. It’s like being back in Morden. There are a few people fishing too.

  There’s a building at the end of the pier. The New Theatre, the sign says. It’s lit up by hundreds of bright white bulbs. Posters up around the doorway say the Chuckle Brothers are appearing in the holidays. And Greased Lightning is on as well, which just looks like a rip-off of Grease. We stop in front of it and look.

  ‘Nan used to take me there sometimes,’ Gary says suddenly, pointing at the theatre. ‘She used to like the “end of the pier show”.’

  ‘The what?’

  ‘End of the pier show.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  Gary shrugs. ‘Dunno. Just a show really. They tell jokes and sing and dance and that.’

  ‘Oh,’ I say. I don’t really know what else to say. ‘Is it good?’

  Gary looks up at the sky. He’s thinking. He smiles. ‘Nah. It’s shit.’

  I laugh.

  We start walking again. Round the corner, round the outside of the theatre. It seems to get windier with every step we take. The sea looks quite rough. It’s freezing out here.

  ‘Aren’t you cold, Gary?’

  Gary looks at me and smiles. ‘Bit.’

  ‘You can borrow my hoodie if you want. I’ve got a long-sleeved T-shirt on underneath.’

  Gary smiles again. ‘Nah. You keep it. It’ll be too small for me.’

  We stop walking at the end of the pier. I take my arm out of Gary’s and we lean on the railings and look out to sea.

  ‘I love the sea. It’s really relaxing, isn’t it? Just the sound of it,’ I say.

  Gary nods his h
ead without looking at me. He looks relaxed, almost. More normal anyway.

  We stand in silence for a while. In my head I start to think of the excuses I’m gonna give Mum and Dad later on. I’ll have to keep the one about visiting Gary’s nan going. It might not be all that good an excuse, but Mum and Dad won’t know any better unless Gary tells them. And I can’t imagine that happening. For a start, I still have no idea whether he’s coming home with us or not. I hope he is. I hate to think about what he’ll do otherwise. I guess he’d have to sleep rough or something. I don’t want him to end up like the medal man – on his own, nothing to live for. But it’s Gary’s choice. It’s probably none of my business. I’ve only known him for a week. Seems like longer. But I’m not gonna force him to come back – not if he doesn’t want to. If things are that bad at home with his dad, maybe he’s better off on the streets. And I can understand why he wouldn’t want to come back to school with Knaggs there, ready to rip him apart again.

  So I make a deal with myself. If Gary decides not to come back, I’ll just do what I can. Lend him my hoodie to keep himself warm, cos he’d freeze to death in that shirt. And maybe I’ll skive off school sometimes, come here to see him. Maybe even get him to talk to social services. God! How ridiculous is this? I’ve just decided the rest of his life for him. I’ve got to stop being so pessimistic.

  I look at the time on my mobile. 19:45. I wonder how long it’ll take Mum and Dad to get here. They’ll be here soon, surely. I hope so. I’ve had enough of this now. I just want to be back at home. I want things to be normal.

  I look over at Gary. He really does look frozen, stood at the end of the pier. His goosebumps are like thousands of little hills on his arms. The sun’s right down now.

  ‘Do you wanna go somewhere a bit warmer?’ I say.

  Gary shakes his head. ‘I like it here.’

  ‘But it’s freezing. You’re getting goosebumps on your goosebumps.’

  Gary shakes his head again. But he shivers. I have to do something to warm him up a bit. I move closer to him, so our sides are touching. And then I reach up and put my arm around his shoulders, like a friend. Gary looks at me. He looks a bit shocked. I smile back at him and then look out to sea. Gary just stands there, tense, as though he can’t relax with my arm around his shoulders. But after a while he starts to relax.

  We stand there for a bit, just quietly looking at the sea and the boats and the moon behind the clouds. Except I’m not just looking, I’m thinking as well. About him, about me, about the tractor and the medal man and . . . Just about everything. It’s all a blur in my head, one thing blending into all the others. It’s a mess. I don’t want to think about it. So I talk instead.

  ‘Have you decided if you’re going home or not?’ I say.

  Gary’s shoulders stiffen a little. He shrugs.

  ‘You should, Gary,’ I say.

  He doesn’t answer.

  ‘You’ll freeze to death if you stay here. And where would you sleep?’

  Gary shrugs. ‘Don’t matter.’

  I sigh. I take my arm off Gary’s shoulders and look at him. ‘You should go and see your mum and dad. I bet they’ve missed you.’

  Gary kind of snorts, but he isn’t laughing.

  ‘I’d miss you if you didn’t come back to Wallingham,’ I say.

  Gary looks at the ground shyly. ‘Would you?’ he says.

  I laugh. ‘Course I would, stupid.’

  I listen to the waves crashing on the beach. I close my eyes, take a deep breath and just listen.

  After a few seconds I open them again. And I look at Gary. He’s already looking at me. Straight at me. Into my eyes. He never does that. I smile at him. He looks away.

  ‘I like you,’ he says quietly. Then he kind of looks shocked, like he can’t believe he just said that. He blushes and looks out to the ships sitting on the horizon.

  And I know I have to say something. Otherwise it’s gonna be awkward. ‘I like you as well,’ I say. ‘You’re a good friend, Gary.’

  Gary looks at me for a second and smiles. He looks right into my eyes. And it feels really weird. He doesn’t look away. He never does this – looks at me for more than a second. And then he closes his eyes, leans forward and moves his head towards me. He’s going to kiss me. Oh, Jesus! I move back.

  ‘What are you doing?’ I say. And as I say it, I can hear that it doesn’t come out right. I sound like I think he’s just done the most awful, wrong thing in the world.

  Gary opens his eyes and looks at me. He blushes. He looks hurt. ‘I –’ he says. ‘I thought . . .’ He doesn’t finish his sentence. He looks away, goes red. He marches off, back up the pier.

  Shit! ‘Gary, come back,’ I shout.

  He doesn’t even turn round.

  I watch him as he marches away. It’s like I’m paralysed, or in shock. It’s only when he disappears round the other side of the theatre that I realise I should do something. So I run after him. He’s halfway along the pier by the time I catch him. He doesn’t look at me. I try and walk alongside him, try and keep up. I have to jog every few steps.

  ‘Gary, please don’t do this!’

  He keeps his eyes fixed straight ahead. Not a sign that he’s heard me.

  ‘I didn’t mean it to sound like it did,’ I say.

  He doesn’t say a word.

  ‘You just took me by surprise, that’s all,’ I say. ‘I’m sorry. Please don’t do this.’

  He still doesn’t look at me. He’s not going to. We’re near the end of the pier now. I need to do something to stop him. I run a few steps in front and then turn, stand in Gary’s way, my hands up.

  ‘Please, Gary, stop,’ I plead.

  But he doesn’t – he just looks away from me and then marches around me instead. He walks along the seafront.

  ‘Gary, my parents are gonna be here soon! Come on, just get a lift home with us. It’ll all seem better in the morning, honestly.’

  He still doesn’t look at me. His head’s down now, looking at the ground. And he just stomps along.

  I don’t know what to do. This is my fault. Cos of the way I reacted. And now I can’t stop it. I can’t make him see sense. If he wasn’t running away from home before, he sure as hell is now. Fuck it! So I do the only thing I can think of. I shout. I scream, ‘STOP BEING SUCH A DICK, GARY! TALK TO ME!’

  Gary stops. He looks at me. I can’t tell if he’s angry or annoyed or confused or what. I don’t think he can, either. There are other people now, staring at us.

  I lower my voice. ‘Gary, please, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. Please come back with me. You just took me by surprise.’

  Gary looks at me. He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. Then he opens his mouth. ‘I’m not coming back,’ he says quietly. ‘Just leave me alone. Go back to your mum and dad.’

  And he walks off again. He doesn’t march this time. And I don’t think I’m gonna stop him. I don’t think I’m gonna change his mind. I watch him go, for a bit. He walks past the arcades and the pubs and the chip shops without looking back. And then I think of him spending the night outside, in just that shirt. I take my hoodie off and chase after him.

  ‘Gary, take this,’ I say. ‘You’ll freeze to death otherwise.’

  He takes the hoodie off me, but he doesn’t put it on. He says ‘thank you’ really quietly and walks off again. And I let him go.

  .

  Gary

  I walk. I don’t know what else I can do. I don’t want to be there any more. I don’t want to see East Strand pier again for the rest of my life. I hope the stupid fucking thing burns down. D’you know what? Maybe I should do it myself. Get some matches, get some petrol. Boom! The end. If I’m lucky, I might kill myself while I’m doing it.

  I’ve got no idea where I’m going. I just keep walking, don�
�t look back. Don’t take long to get out of the high street – a couple of minutes maybe. Then I’m out into some roads where there’s a load of houses and pavements and street lights. A couple of minutes more and there are no more houses and there ain’t a pavement, either, just a grass verge. I walk along it, off the road. There’s normally a load of dickheads driving their souped-up cars round these roads like they’re driving round bloody Silverstone. Boy racers. So there ain’t no way I’m walking on the road. I don’t want to die. Not like that.

  The moon’s out. It’s bloody cold now. It’s always colder at the coast. It’s the winds coming in off the North Sea. Nan used to say that they come all the way from the North Pole.

  Zoë’s given me her jumper. I’ve got it in my hands. I didn’t want to put it on when she could see me. I wanted her to think I didn’t need it. But I’m gonna put it on. I’m shivering. There ain’t no way I’m going back to Wallingham, and if I’m gonna stay out here, I gotta keep warm. I stop by the side of the road and pull it over my head. It’s quite tight round the shoulders, but it’ll keep me warm. It smells clean. Girly. Like Zoë. And as soon as I smell it, I can feel my cheeks going red. I’m blushing. I can’t believe what a dick I’ve been. Jesus Christ! What was I thinking? I can’t believe I’ve just done that. How could I think that she’d fancy me? What an idiot. I’ve gone and messed it up. I messed everything up. We can’t even be friends now, not after that.

  I don’t even know whether we was proper friends anyway. She just felt sorry for me. Poor little mental Farmer Boy. And the truth is, she don’t even know who I am, not really. She don’t even care, as long as she makes herself feel good. And d’you know what? I don’t need it. I don’t need no one to feel sorry for me. I wish everyone’d just leave me alone instead of interfering. Just leave me alone.

  .

  David

  My phone beeps. It’s on the floor, next to the homework I should be doing. I get off my bed and reach it. It’s a text from Knaggs: WOOD STOLE A TRACTOR! HE’S RUN AWAY FROM HOME WITH Z!

  I stare at my phone. I have to read the message again. And again. And again. And I still can’t believe it. I sit down on my bed and send him a text back: WHAT U MEAN? U SERIOUS?