My mobile went ching-ching. I jumped and pressed the message key, heart leaping, but it was only Mum asking if I was OK and had I had a good lunch at Jules’s. She promised she’d definitely be back by tea time and how did I feel about her bringing Gerry back to meet me?
Oh God. I texted back: PERHAPS NOT. LOVE S.
I lay back on my pillow and felt so lonely I started to cry a little, tears seeping slowly sideways. Then I fell asleep and dreamed about Carl. We were in Kew Gardens. I was lost again and I was running, running, running, trampling my way through jungle plants, Chihuly glass smashing all around me, and there, just ahead of me, I saw Carl. He was running too, away from me. I couldn’t catch up with him, try as I might. He dodged up the spiral staircase in the glasshouse and I pounded after him, hauling myself up two steps at a time. Then I was at the very top, running along the narrow balcony, gaining on him now. He looked over his shoulder, slipped, lurched backwards, up and over the low rail. I watched, screaming, as he spiralled down and down and down through the great green leaves.
Ching-ching.
I woke with a start, my throat aching as if I’d really been screaming. I grabbed my mobile, but it was Miranda sending me a text to say she was sending me Paul’s text. For the next fifteen minutes I was forced to read their silly texting banter. I wanted to switch off my phone, but I still hoped Carl might text me …
Ching-Ching.
Not another stupid Miranda-and-Paul message! I touched the display button, all set to erase it.
SORRY SORRY SORRY, S. C U IN G H ? C X
Yes!
I rubbed at my face, ran down the stairs and through the kitchen, giving Miss Miles a quick nod as she made herself a cup of tea. Then I was out the back door, down our garden, through the gap in the fence, until I stood breathless outside the Glass Hut. The light wasn’t on inside. Perhaps I’d got there before Carl? I tapped timidly on the door.
‘Come in,’ Carl whispered from inside. ‘You are on your own, aren’t you?’
‘Of course I am,’ I said, slipping inside.
It was so dark I couldn’t see a thing. I felt for the light switch.
‘Don’t,’ said Carl. ‘Let’s stay in the dark.’ He reached out and found my hand. ‘Come and sit with me.’
I sat on the sofa, close beside him.
‘Oh, Sylvie,’ he said, sounding hoarse. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I was mad to bring Miranda with me. I couldn’t stop her banging and banging like that. It was so awful.’
‘It was awful my side of the door,’ said Carl. ‘I thought she’d start hacking her way through with an axe any minute. I know it was silly and childish hiding away from everyone but I couldn’t face her. Did she tell you what happened at Kew?’
‘No. Well, just that she went off with Paul.’
‘So maybe he didn’t tell her.’
I swallowed. ‘Tell her what?’
I heard Carl swallow too. We sat hand in hand in the dark for several long seconds.
‘I’ve been such an idiot,’ he said. It sounded as if he might be crying.
‘Oh, Carl, it’s OK. Please don’t,’ I said. I wanted to put my arms round him but he was clutching my hand as if he could never let it go.
‘It’s not OK. I’ve ruined everything. He hates me now. And I love him.’
I felt the blood beating in my head. He’d said it out loud. We couldn’t pretend any more. This was it. The end of all my dreams.
‘I know you love him,’ I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
‘You’re shocked, aren’t you?’
‘No, no, don’t be silly,’ I mumbled.
‘I was shocked. I mean, I kind of knew I liked boys, not girls – apart from you, I mean – but I didn’t want to be different. But I couldn’t help it. I just saw him that first day and it was like he was the only boy in the whole school. I couldn’t stop watching him. It was OK because everyone watched him. He was the big-time football hero and everyone was desperate to be in his little gang. It was fine then, when we never even spoke to each other. But then we were paired up by this teacher in drama. I couldn’t believe it. I was thrilled and yet so scared too. I was sure I’d make a complete berk of myself. Well, I did, I didn’t have a clue what to say—’
‘Oh, Carl, stop it, you’re the most articulate person I’ve ever met.’
‘I can say all sorts of stuff to you, Sylvie, but at first with Paul I could hardly say two words. Then we had to do this daft trust exercise when you take turns falling and the other guy has to catch you. You’ve no idea what it felt like, holding him in my arms. I can’t explain, just touching him, it was electric. You wait till you feel that way about someone, then you’ll understand.’
I was glad it was dark.
‘Sylvie?’ He didn’t understand. ‘You are shocked, aren’t you?’
‘No, no, it’s just … a bit of a surprise.’
‘It’s a surprise for me too,’ said Carl. ‘I never ever thought I’d feel like this. I thought I’d just coast along somehow. I’ve always been careful not to act too girly or whatever. I hate being teased. I felt so safe, you and me and our own private world. I didn’t have a clue what it’s like to fall in love. It’s frightening because it’s so intense, it kind of takes you over. It’s just like every stupid cliché, every silly song. You can’t eat, you can’t concentrate, you can’t sleep. You just think about the other person all the time, even though you know it’s crazy. You just can’t help it. It’s especially crazy to fall for Paul because he’s the straightest boy ever. He’s one of the worst for making stupid jokes. I knew I didn’t stand a chance of him ever feeling the same way about me, and yet I still sort of hoped that somehow it would happen. How mad is that?’
‘It’s mad,’ I said.
‘So I thought I’d just carry on, us being friends, Paul and me. I thought I could make it work. But it was so difficult never being able to say what I really felt. It made me feel so hopeless sometimes. I mean, even if Paul were gay too you could never ever come out at our school. You can call any of the guys any four-letter word you choose and they don’t blink, but call one of them gay and he’ll punch your head in, even if he is. I used to get called gay a lot because I’m arty and swotty and not too good at football, but they didn’t really mean it. Paul called me hopelessly gay whenever I muffed a football move, but it was OK if I just laughed and clowned around with limp wrists, going whoopsie all the time to try to be part of the joke.’
‘Carl, how can you love someone who treats you like that?’
‘But I keep telling you, he didn’t mean it. He didn’t dream I was really gay. He always went on and on about girls and what he’d like to do to them so I did too.’
‘About me?’
‘No!’ he said. ‘I’d never talk about you like that, Sylvie, you know I wouldn’t.’ He said it fiercely, to be reassuring.
‘So who did you talk about?’
‘Oh. Just anyone. It was all so stupid and tacky. Whoever came into my head.’
‘Miranda.’
‘Well, she was an obvious candidate.’
‘Did you tell Paul about kissing her at the party?’
‘Yes, I did vaguely mention it.’
‘So what did you tell him it was like?’
‘Oh, Sylvie, I can’t remember. It didn’t mean anything to me. It felt a bit weird and threatening, if you really want to know. She opened her mouth so wide I thought she was going to swallow me whole. Plus she was wearing all this slippery lipstick. I was scared she was going to get it all over me. It tasted disgusting.’
I felt a pang for Miranda, but I couldn’t help being pleased.
‘So you tried to set Paul up with her instead?’
‘I know it was mad and stupid but I hoped that the four of us could be friends and all go round together. It seemed a great idea at the time. I mean, I love Paul, I love you, you like Miranda, she likes any boy who pays her attention. I thought it might work.’
<
br /> The Glass Hut whirled round me as I replayed what he’d said inside my head.
‘You love me?’ I whispered.
‘Yes! Of course I love you, Sylvie. You know how much you mean to me. You’re the one and only girl for me, ever. You know that.’
‘But you’re not in love with me?’
‘Not the way I’m in love with Paul.’
‘Still?’
‘Yes. And you don’t even know how he acted. You see, I tried to kiss him and—’
‘You did what?’
‘I know, I know. It was totally crazy. I didn’t mean to. It was just a spur-of-the-moment thing. It was so lovely in Kew Gardens in the moonlight. I felt as if we’d stepped into another world and anything could happen.’
‘I felt that too.’
‘It was like our own Midsummer Night’s Dream. Then Miranda suggested playing Hide and Seek, and we all scattered and I didn’t plan anything, I just set off and I spotted Paul almost straight away. It was as if he was waiting there in the bushes for me. He laughed when I walked up, and pulled me in to the bushes with him so we were all squashed up, hiding together. My head was right next to his and we were still laughing and fooling about, and without even thinking I kissed him. I couldn’t believe it was happening. It felt so incredible – but then he pushed me away. He punched me. Then he said all these awful things.’
‘Oh, poor poor Carl,’ I said, but I couldn’t help adding, ‘Still, what did you expect?’
‘I know, I know. I was just totally mad. I kept telling him I was sorry and I’d never do it again but he kept on saying stuff, acting like I was this weird sick pervert.’
‘You’re not, you know you’re not.’
‘But he thinks I am. He acted like it’s some contagious disease and I was trying to infect him too. He was so angry with me. I fell over and he actually started kicking me, even though we’d been best mates just two minutes ago. Then he stormed off, saying he never ever wanted to see me again.’
‘Well, that’s a bit silly, seeing as you’re in the same form at school.’
‘That’s what I’m so worried about. It’s not just the awfulness of making Paul hate me—’
‘That’s mad. I think you should hate him for being so horrible to you,’ I interrupted.
‘No, listen, what if he tells everyone at school that I kissed him?’
‘He won’t,’ I said firmly. ‘Look, I know he didn’t tell Miranda. He just said you’d had a fight. She thought it was over her.’
‘That’s so typical of Miranda. I don’t know what you see in her, Sylvie.’
‘Well. I don’t get what you see in Paul. Especially now,’ I said. ‘You still want to be friends with him, don’t you?’
‘Yes, but he won’t want anything to do with me. Yet the weirdest thing of all … for a second he kissed me back like he really cared about me too.’
I DIDN’T WANT to talk about Carl to Miranda. Luckily she was too caught up with her own affairs. She was still texting Paul all the time. He kept asking her to send a photo to his mobile.
‘What kind of photo?’
‘Oh, he’s just trying it on. He wants a quick flash of my chest.’
‘What?’
‘Don’t look so shocked. It’s a boy thing. That’s what they all want.’
‘Yes, so they can show it round to all their dirty mates.’
‘Do you think he’ll show Carl if I oblige?’
‘No! Miranda, you’re not serious about this?’
‘It’s no big deal. It’s just a bit of fun. It’s like a mobile status symbol. You get the right handset, the right ring-tone, the right photo of your girl—’
‘Yeah, if that’s how you want to be thought of – the right topless girl – then you’re crazy.’
‘I’m not saying I’ll go topless. I could just undo a few buttons, show off a bit of cleavage … Don’t look like that! You’re just jealous because you haven’t got any cleavage – and even if you had, Carl doesn’t seem very interested.’
‘Why do you say that?’ I said, my heart thumping.
‘Well, I know you two have been lovebirds since the cradle, but you just don’t act very lovey-dovey when you’re together. I haven’t even seen the two of you so much as holding hands.’
‘You have no idea what we do when we’re alone together,’ I said hotly.
‘Well, what do you do? How far have you gone with him? Why won’t you ever tell me?’
‘It’s private. I’m not a kiss-and-tell girl like you.’
‘You don’t kiss so you haven’t got anything to tell,’ said Miranda snippily.
I worried about people kissing and telling all day. When I got home from school I didn’t even wait to text Carl. I went round to the Johnsons’ house straight away. Jake answered the door. He actually smiled at me.
‘Ah! Hi, Sylvie!’
‘Don’t look so excited, Jake. Miranda’s not with me,’ I said, pushing past him.
I called for Carl.
‘He’s upstairs, Sylvie,’ Jules said. She looked worried. ‘He came home from school early. Said he was sick. I hope he hasn’t got anything catching. Here, take him some fizzy water, sweetie.’ She poured a glass and then gave me a second look. ‘You don’t look very well either. Do you feel sick too?’
‘A bit,’ I said truthfully.
‘Oh dear. You drink some water too. I hope you’re not both going down with something. Still, at least you could keep each other company. Do you remember the time you both had chickenpox when you were little? We popped you one in each end of Carl’s bed and you played together, all over pink spots,’ Jules sighed. ‘I wish you were still little kids. Well, you’re still OK, Sylvie, you’re lovely, but both my boys have changed so. Jake’s this great noisy untidy bear stomping round the place, playing his awful music. Carl’s gone to the other extreme, hiding in his lair, barely saying two words to anyone, looking so white and anguished all the time, like some boy martyr with a wolf gnawing away at his chest. If I try to ask him what the matter is he just rolls his eyes at me and won’t say.’
She put the two glasses on a tray with a plate of water biscuits and black grapes. ‘There! A small snack for the two invalids. Try very hard to have girls when you get married, Sylvie. I’m sure it’s a lot easier.’
‘I don’t think I’m going to get married now,’ I said. I tried to say it lightly but my voice wobbled. I felt dangerously near tears. We both looked at my little-girl wall painting of my wedding in the corner of the kitchen.
‘You’ll be a beautiful bride one day,’ said Jules softly.
I smiled at her wanly and carried the tray upstairs.
‘Here, let me,’ said Jake, bounding out of nowhere and hoisting the tray high, like a waiter. The two glasses clinked together, water spilling.
‘Stop messing about, Jake. Give it back,’ I said.
‘I’m only trying to help.’ He clicked his heels together and bowed low, spilling more.
‘For heaven’s sake, do you have to mess about all the time?’ I snapped.
He straightened up, looking surprisingly hurt. I thought he was being deliberately annoying, peeved because Miranda wasn’t there.
‘Sorry,’ he mumbled, and sloped off.
I sighed and went on up the stairs and along the landing.
‘Carl?’ I said quietly, outside his door. ‘It’s Sylvie. I’ve got a tray for you.’
I wasn’t sure he’d let me in, but the key clicked and the door opened a few centimetres. I slipped inside. Carl was still wearing his school uniform – the white shirt, badly cut grey trousers and purple tie that took away all his style and individuality. His hair was standing up at odd angles, as if he’d been running his hands through it. He sat down on the edge of his bed, arms folded, knees together, and stared into space.
I put the tray on the floor and sat down beside him. I reached out for his hand and held onto it. He didn’t squeeze my hand in return. He just sat there, rigid.
‘Was it awful?’ I whispered.
He nodded.
‘You told Jules you were sick.’
‘I was. I threw up all over the floor of the boys’ bogs.’
‘So you’re really ill?’
‘Paul thinks I am. Sick. A perve. A poof.’
‘Stop it!’
‘He said much worse things. He’s still so angry with me. He thinks I set out to befriend him and turn him gay too.’
‘That’s ridiculous.’
‘He really hates me, Sylvie, it’s so awful.’
‘Well, you’ve got to start hating him back.’
‘How can I do that?’ Carl said helplessly.
‘Easy!’ I said, wanting to shake him. ‘He’s horrible, Carl, crude and stupid and hopelessly prejudiced. He’s not even that bright or witty or interesting. He’s just a boring, cruel idiot. He’s the easiest person in the world to hate.’
‘Look, you’re so sweet, you’re trying to be kind, but truly, you haven’t got a clue. You can’t just stop loving someone and start hating them instead. I hate me more than I hate Paul, for being such a fool and putting him in this situation when he just wanted us to be good mates. He’s scared that everyone will start talking about us, calling us both queer. He said he’s not going to say another word to me ever. He said if I ever tried to so much as touch him he’d ram my head down the toilet. He said I disgust him. That was when I threw up. So of course I disgust him even more now,’ said Carl. ‘Imagine, throwing up right in front of him. I think some of it splashed on his shoes.’
‘Good. Serve him right. Aim at his head next time. Look, even if he was gay he so wouldn’t be the right boy for you, Carl. He’s nowhere near good enough. You’re acting like you’re under some stupid spell or something.’
‘That’s what it feels like,’ said Carl, smacking the heel of his hand against his forehead. ‘I don’t want to feel like this. If you only knew what it was like, Sylvie.’
‘What makes you think I don’t?’ I said.
I’d meant to say it in my head, not out loud. Carl focused on me, frowning. We looked at each other. His eyes widened. Then we both looked away, ducking our heads, both of us blushing. He cleared his throat, ready to say something.
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