by KE Payne
“It’s not a date.” Eden glared. “And if you ever call me a fucking lesbian again, I’ll kill you.”
*
I watched, broken, as Eden stormed into the lab, barging her way past students who were still coming out. I’d thought she’d been about to defend me. How wrong had I been?
I made to go after her, only stopping when I felt Greg’s arms on mine, pulling me back.
“Don’t,” he said quietly. “Just leave it.”
“Did you hear what she just said?” I turned and faced him, tears brimming in my eyes. “Fucking lesbian? Is that what she thinks?” I threw my bag off my shoulders and hurled it to the ground. “Is that what she thinks of me?”
“She needs time,” Libby said. She bent to pick up my bag. “You knew she’d need time.”
“To be fair, those two were proper winding her up.” Greg steered me away from the rest of the queue, who were now gaping at me. He shepherded me down the corridor a little way. “Enough to make anyone snap.”
“She’s blown me off just because they were winding her up?” I swivelled round and glared back down the corridor. “How shallow does she have to be?”
“Not shallow, Tabs,” Libby said. “Just scared and confused.”
“And too chickenshit to tell them the truth,” I spat, furious. “Like she’s ashamed of who she is. Ashamed of me.”
I leant forwards against the wall, palms flat on it in front of me. “She did the same to me yesterday,” I said, my insides curling up. “Left me in the lurch in the canteen when those two bitches turned up.”
“No way.” Libby shot a look at Greg.
“Way,” I said bitterly. “How could she do that to me twice in two days? How?”
Libby didn’t answer.
“Come with us,” Greg said, looking at his watch. “We’re going to miss the start of the lesson.” He started to walk back into the lab.
“Not a chance.” I took my bag from Libby. “She can go fuck herself.” My hands were shaking, both from rage and hurt. “In fact, this whole school can do one.” I turned to go. “I’m done here.”
I stumbled down the corridor. I needed to get away from the school, from the hurt. From Eden.
“When you see her, tell her well done from me,” I shouted, my voice echoing back down the corridor to Libby. “Well done for screwing up my life.”
Chapter Forty-two
I don’t know how long I cried after Eden crushed me like that. As I fled from school, tears blinding me, I was reminded of a nickname Amy used to call me.
Glassheart.
That was it.
All tough and don’t give a shit on the outside, but a heart of glass on the inside. That was me, all right. And right at that moment, my already fragile heart of glass was shattering more than it had ever done.
I didn’t know what was worse: that Eden had blown me off in favour of Gabby and Beth or that she hadn’t stood up to them when they were dissing my sexuality with their repulsive comments.
I went straight home, sitting on the Tube engulfed in my misery. Just another faceless person, but one whose stomach ached from fury and shame and wretchedness. I stared at the floor in front of me as our carriage scudded through the dark tunnels, occasionally looking at a fellow passenger and wondering if they hurt as much as I did right now.
As if to add insult to injury, it seemed as though all around me were adverts for the London Eye. Looming, mocking me. Reminding me of that awesome, perfect day we’d spent together, which I now wished had never happened.
I was relieved to find my parents both still at work and Ed either at university for a change, or still asleep on someone’s floor. The house was quiet. Safe. As I entered, the comfort and peacefulness surrounded me like a warm blanket, allowing me precious time to think and to gather my thoughts. I went up to my room and put on some music. I lay on my bed and stared coldly and blindly through the window at the trees shaking in the breeze.
By the time I heard the first key in the door downstairs, around two hours after I’d arrived home, I’d made a decision—one that made my heart of glass smash into a thousand agonizing shards.
*
My phone vibrated next to me.
Eden.
I rolled over and snatched it up.
How long had I been asleep? Hours? Minutes? I had no idea. All I knew was I’d woken with the worst headache ever and a nauseating sourness in my stomach. Enough already.
“You okay?” Greg’s voice sounded at the other end of the phone. “Me and Libby have been waiting for you to text us, let us know you’re all right.”
“I fell asleep.”
Why wasn’t it Eden?
I propped myself up on one elbow and peered at my clock, blinking a few times to allow my eyes to focus properly. It was dark, the street light immediately outside my window throwing splashes of orange light around my room.
“Listen,” Greg said. “I just wanted you to know we think what Eden did to you today was shitty.” He paused. “You so didn’t deserve that.”
“Thanks,” I said. “And, no. No one deserves to be treated like that.”
Just because she wanted to save face in front of her friends?
“And what Gabby and Beth were saying as well,” Greg continued. “Just narrow-minded, thick, ignorant comments that are best ignored. You should complain to the principal.”
“Already forgotten them,” I lied. “Comments, I can cope with. Being let down like that, though? That’s harder to stomach.”
“Come to school tomorrow,” Greg urged. “We can talk about it all. Don’t let her beat you. You have me and Libby, and we need you…even if Eden doesn’t.”
“I will,” I promised.
My mind was clear. Lucid. I knew what I had to do. If I was going to get past all this, then I’d go to school tomorrow…if only to get the whole mess sorted.
Chapter Forty-three
Eden took my hand and pulled me into an empty classroom. I’d come to school, just as I’d promised Greg I would, but I knew that how my day would pan out was entirely dependent on what Eden said to me. I’d either be on top of the world by the end of the day, or in the depths of misery.
“I’m sorry.” Genuine.
It didn’t make me any less furious, though.
I dropped her hand.
I headed for the door, but she blocked me.
“I’m deeply honoured,” I said sarcastically, “that you could spare me five minutes of your precious time, but I’m not interested, Eden.”
“Don’t be like this.” Eden whispered. “Please.”
“How do you expect me to be?” I said. “After what you did yesterday? And the day before? All the days before.”
Her face fell. “I panicked the other day in the canteen,” she said. “Beth and Gabby came back ’cos Beth’s rehearsal was postponed and…I dunno.” She trembled. “I’m an idiot.”
“Panicked?” I repeated. “You panic if you’re a cheating husband about to be found out, or if you’re a bank robber who’s just seen the police. You don’t panic when your mates turn up and find you having coffee with someone else. For God’s sake, Eden!”
“And yesterday”—Eden stared down at her feet—“I got mad at them ’cos they wouldn’t stop having a go.”
“For having plans with the gay girl,” I said. “Yeah, I was there, remember?”
“You didn’t come back to school yesterday,” Eden said.
“Oh, you noticed, then?” I stayed cold. Hard.
“Don’t.”
“You expected me to come back and then face Round Two from you lot?” I said savagely. “Believe it or not, Eden, I’ve got my pride.”
“Please, Tabby,” Eden said. “You know how I feel about you.” She stepped forward. Reached out to me.
“Don’t touch me.” I moved away from her. “You know, right now—considering your little show yesterday—I have no idea how you feel about me.”
“You know,” Eden stressed.
“How could you let them say all that stuff to me?” I asked. The hurt pierced me as I remembered. “Why didn’t you say something to stop them?”
“Like what?” Eden said. “What would you have wanted me to say?”
“Really?” I was seething. “Do I have to tell you?”
She didn’t reply.
“How about telling them to shut the fuck up?” I said. “Or telling them to stop being so damned bigoted, bearing in mind all the hurtful things they were saying about lesbians, when hello? one was standing right behind you. The same one you’re supposed to care about. The same one you’re supposed to be dating.” I glared at her. “And your parting shot—don’t call me a fucking lesbian? How do you think that made me feel?” I slumped against the wall, hands in my pockets. Revulsion at the memory seeped through me.
“I was angry,” Eden said weakly. “I just said it to make them stop.”
“They would have stopped if you’d supported me,” I said. “If you had told them the truth.”
“They wouldn’t.” Eden sighed. “You don’t know what they’re like.”
“I know exactly what they’re like,” I said. “And now I’m beginning to think you’re the same.” I flashed her a look. “Who are you, Eden? Really?”
The hurt my comment had elicited shone clear in her eyes. Good. I was hurting, too. Time Eden shared the burden.
“I’m not the same,” Eden said. “I didn’t know what to do.” Her face shadowed. “How many more times can I tell you I’m sorry?”
“What do you want?” I asked. “I mean, what do you really want from all this?”
“You,” Eden replied. “I just want you.”
“But without the hassle of being with me, really being with me,” I said. “Am I right?”
“I told you I wanted to take things slowly, didn’t I?” Eden protested. A politician’s answer. Avoid answering a direct question by throwing a question straight back.
“I know you wanted to take things slowly,” I said. “And I think I have. But there’s slow, and there’s non-existent.”
Eden stared at me.
“And there’s a whole heap of difference between taking things slowly,” I continued, “and just pretending that something isn’t happening at all.”
“I need time to get used to things,” Eden said.
“And I’ve given you that,” I said. “I’ve been discreet. I’ve never so much as looked at you when Gabby and Beth are around, let alone spoken to you.” I swallowed, not quite able to get the words out. “You want to be with me in secret, without anyone else knowing.” I carried on. “I get that. It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve had to do it. How do you think Amy and I managed when we were together?”
“I’m not as strong as Amy,” Eden said, anger flaring in her eyes. “Amy knew who she was. She knew she was the same as you. I don’t.”
“Thanks.” I clenched my jaw. “Thanks a bunch.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Then how did you mean it?” I stared, incredulously, at her.
“It’s difficult,” Eden said. “You don’t know what Gabby and Beth are like. How can I explain to them that everything they ever thought about me is untrue?”
“Why do you care what they think?” I snapped. “They’re nasty, spiteful bitches. How can you even stand to be around them?”
“I care because I don’t want to be given a label.” Eden stared down at her feet. “I don’t want to be the one that people point at in the corridor, or whisper about behind their hands.”
“Seriously?” I looked at her in disbelief. “You’d rather live a lie than have a few people make puerile comments about you?”
“I’m not living a lie.” Eden radiated anger. I’d wounded her with the truth.
I fumed, frustrated by this stupid situation we’d managed to get ourselves into. Being with Eden was supposed to be fun. It was supposed to be everything I’d dreamed of. Right now, it was turning into a nightmare, thanks to Gabby and Beth and their influence over Eden.
“You are living a lie if you’re pretending to be someone you’re not,” I said. This time I was more gentle. A change of tack. Maybe anger wasn’t the answer any more. “You just don’t want to be on the other side of what the three of you have been doling out to others for years, do you?”
That apparently hit a nerve.
“I’ve never been like that to other people.” Eden’s face darkened.
“So if you’re not like them, then don’t act like them,” I persisted. “Prove it. Be true to yourself.”
“Stop trying to push me into a corner, Tabby.”
“I’m not.” Impatience reared. “I’m just asking you to stand up for your own principles, even if you’re not going to stand up for me.”
“I don’t know if I can even face that,” Eden said. She held my gaze. “I’m scared people will think differently of me.”
“You’re the same person inside,” I said. “So what if they think of you differently? Isn’t that their problem? Anyone who matters will know you’re the same person. If they can’t see that, they’re not worth having as a friend.”
“But everything will change the second people find out I’m dating a girl, won’t it?” she said. Eden was breathing hard. Possibly not as hard as me, though.
“Yes,” I said. “I can’t tell you things will stay the same, because they won’t.”
“Maybe I don’t want anything to change.” Eden scratched at her head, frustrated. “Maybe I like things just the way they are.”
Compression on my chest.
“Really?” I said. “You like this? You like making me feel like this? That works for you, does it?”
“No, you know I—” Eden’s whole body sagged. She looked overwhelmed, lost and messed up in equal measure. “I don’t know. I wish to God I did.”
I moved towards the door. Enough of her weakness already. She was choosing to hurt the person she claimed to care for, so as not to rock the boat with people who didn’t really care one bit for the real her. I was tired of being railroaded into making a decision I knew Eden wouldn’t.
“I thought we loved each other,” I said. “If you love someone you aren’t ashamed of them. You back them up when they need you.”
“I never said I loved you,” Eden said quietly. She looked to the floor.
An iron fist punched me. I stood rooted to the spot, trying to regain the breath that felt like it had been hit from me. “Then that makes my decision a damn sight easier,” I said, my voice icy cold. “We’re through.” I shouldered past her and grabbed the door handle.
“Maybe we should have talked more,” Eden whispered to me as I opened the door. “Perhaps I should have said more. Explained stuff more.”
Eden’s words were lost to me.
I’d already cut myself away from her.
Chapter Forty-four
Life in rewind.
Leaving her date with Marcus to come and tell me she liked me. The psychoanalysis lecture. The looks in the foyer. The comments on her doorstep. Fencing. Tuesdays. In short, my life for the last four months.
Damn, love could hurt so bad.
It ached.
A real, physical hurting that just got worse every time I thought about Eden and what she’d done to me.
I feigned illness that night when I got home. As if I wanted to explain my tears to my parents? No thanks. My mother would have told me what I’d had with Eden had never been real, so what was the point? Instead, I shut myself in my room, switched off my phone, crawled under my duvet, and tried to convince myself my heart was still beating.
It was a struggle. Nothing made sense. Life was futile again. I’d made the hardest decision ever, but what choice had she left me? How could I have gone on being let down and misused and trampled by her over and over again?
She didn’t love me. That’s what she’d said.
Even after I’d poured my heart out to her, telling her how much sh
e meant to me, she couldn’t do the decent thing and give me the comfort of knowing, despite her misgivings about us, she did actually love me.
She couldn’t even give me that.
*
“Has she contacted you?” Libby asked, early the next morning in school. She’d collared me in the changing rooms next to the gym. I’d neither wanted to return to school nor see Libby, but figured skipping school would have resulted in way too many questions, so I somehow ended up doing both.
She meant well, I knew. But I could have so done without it all.
I showed her my phone. Twelve unread texts, six unanswered phone calls.
“Whoa.” Libby took my phone from me. “All that since yesterday?”
I shook my head. “Since this morning. I deleted all of yesterday’s.”
“You didn’t want to read them?” Libby asked, handing it back to me.
“I read the first three or four,” I said. “They all said the same thing.”
“Which was?”
“I’m sorry, please forgive me, please give me another chance.” My voice broke. “Please don’t give up on me.” I cleared my throat. “It’s all so fucked up.” I wiped my eyes with my sleeve. “She’s begging me to forgive her and I’m trying so hard to harden myself to it.”
“Even though it’s breaking your heart?” Libby asked.
“What else can I do?” I asked. “Give her another chance to stomp on me again? It’s clear she’s never going to commit.” I looked at the messages on my phone. “So I take her back, accept her apologies and try again, then what? I can’t cope with her hurting me any more.”
“Maybe she really means it?” Libby said. “Perhaps you dumping her has given her a boot up the arse. If she thinks anything of you, then she’ll say to hell with her so-called friends and what they think.”
“I don’t think she cares about me at all,” I said.
That thought was horrendous, but it felt good to get it out.
Libby shook her head. “I’m not Eden’s greatest fan, but I’ve seen the looks she’s given you when she thinks no one’s looking,” she said. “And they tell me she cares for you a heck of a lot.”