by Sara Barnard
It’s only now I’m seeing him through other people’s eyes that I’m embarrassed. I’m an awful human being. I wish these people had just left me alone to get on with my life; I don’t need the disruption.
It’s just . . . I hate to admit it, even to myself. Their conversations about uni and personal statements and UCAS points sound quite exciting – they can do anything they want, unlike me. I’m stuck. I never realized it before, but sitting here on the beach with Griff clutching my sweaty hand, it’s obvious. Stuck. Forever. I mean, for-actual-ever.
Even if I wanted to change my mind, it’s too late for me now. I haven’t told anyone yet, but it won’t be long before I have to. My shorts aren’t just too tight from all those bacon sandwiches in the hotel kitchen.
I’m pregnant.
DAWSON
I never thought I’d meet anyone who was more of a tosser than my ex, Josh, but I’m happy to report that Griffin ‘Call me Griff’ Collins has, in fact, taken that mantle from him. Mum was right: you do learn something new every day.
Though you could argue that Griff is marginally a better person than Josh, because he doesn’t actually mind being seen with Velvet. He can’t keep his hands off her. It’s as if she’s made of iron, and his hands are magnets: hand on arse, hand on waist, hand on the back of her neck. He even casually just touched her boob as he pulled her on to his lap. Just popped his hand on it for a second and gave it a light squeeze, like he was checking it was still there. I glance at Kaitlyn, and the outrage on her face tells me she saw it too, and if Griff isn’t careful, she’ll end up belting him with her stick.
I hope she does. That might make this entire horror show worth it. Even an eight-hour shift at Thunder Burger would have been more fun, and a shitload less awkward. We should have pulled Velvet into the car and kept driving. I could have accidentally reversed over Griff. I doubt anyone except Velvet would miss him.
It was Griff’s idea to come to the pub, which was great in theory, as I expect he’s significantly more fun to be around if you’re drunk. But I’m driving, so I can’t drink. Velvet refuses too, and Joe shakes his head after a quick glance at her. Kait doesn’t like drinking unless she’s somewhere she feels comfortable, and Sasha pats her tummy, saying she’s too full.
‘I don’t bother with all that craft beer stuff,’ Griff says, with the air of a man who’s seen and done it all. ‘Poncey, overpriced southern crap. I like a proper beer. Get us a Carling, love.’
I have to actually bite my tongue so I don’t reply, ‘Yes, Carling. That most proper of beers. Or lager, as it’s often known.’
He sends Velvet off to the bar with a fiver, slapping her on the bum as she stands, and she frowns for a split second, before giggling. The giggle sounds fake. In fact, everything about her today is a bit fake. Fake smile. Fake enthusiasm. It’s like she’s had some kind of personality transplant. Another glance at Kait watching Griff with narrowed eyes makes me think we’re on the same page, and I pull my phone from my pocket to message her, when Griff leans over, all pally like.
‘So what about you, Daws?’ he says.
‘What about me?’ I’m ignoring the fact he called me Daws.
Kait gets her phone out. When mine buzzes in my hand, I glance down to see she’s messaged me.
Hey, DAWS.
I quickly type back Piss off, and put my phone away. I can practically feel her grin.
Griff has continued, oblivious. ‘You were a bit quiet on the beach. What are you doing with your life now? You got a job?’
‘Yes . . .’ I say warily.
‘A proper one, or more acting shit?’
Kait sucks in a sharp breath, so I quickly answer. ‘I don’t act any more, actually. I’m working part time in a burger place in Manchester for now.’
He nods. ‘You gonna go full time?’
I suppress a shudder. ‘Probably not. It’s not a permanent kind of thing. I was actually thinking about applying to college . . .’
‘You should think about going full time,’ he says, nodding sagely. ‘You could be a manager in five years. My cousin did that, and he’s regional manager now at Spoons.’ He looks over at the pub door and misses the look of horror on my face. ‘So, how long have you two been together then?’ he says, still watching for Velvet.
All four of us stare back at him. Does he seriously think Sasha and Joe are together? Joe hasn’t stopped making moon eyes at Velvet all day.
‘It’s funny if you think about it,’ he turns back to us. ‘A blind girl and the guy who’s famous for getting ugly. Ironic.’
I stare at him, a weird kind of buzzing in my ears. Sasha and Joe look between us, both looking as stunned as I feel. Sasha frowns, and Joe opens his mouth, but Kait gets there first.
‘Are you fucking kidding me?’
‘What? I don’t mean it in a bad way.’ He holds up his hands. ‘No offence, mate. It’s just funny, isn’t it? And it’s not like you’re ugly any more. Not that I’m homo, or nothing.’
Kaitlyn rises to her feet. ‘Fuck this.’
‘What’s going on?’ Velvet has finally returned, a pint in one hand and a Coke in the other.
‘Your boyfriend is a prick, is what’s going on. You can’t half pick them,’ Kaitlyn spits, and then she’s off, marching back down the seafront, swinging her cane in front of her viciously, clearly heading towards the car.
‘What did you say?’ Velvet stares at Griff, spilling the drinks.
‘I didn’t say anything,’ Griff snaps back.
‘Well, why is Kaitlyn leaving?’ Velvet demands.
‘I’m going after Kait,’ I lean over and whisper to Joe.
‘Do you want us to come?’ he asks.
I shake my head. ‘Make sure Velvet is all right,’ I say, and he nods. ‘If we’re not by the car, message us.’ I give a quick smile to Sasha, and then jog after Kaitlyn.
‘Fucking prick,’ she says as I draw level with her. ‘Fucking, fucking prick!’ She’s shouting now, and an old couple passing give us a scandalized look.
‘Hey,’ I move in front of her and gently take her by the arms. For a second, I think she’s going to wallop me, but she lets me guide her to a bench on the seafront. We sit down, thighs pressed together, and I reach out and take her hand, pulling it into my lap. ‘Don’t let him get to you. He’s a knob. I bet Velvet told him about your eyes, and he was too thick to understand it. He’s not worth it.’
‘That’s not why I’m angry.’ She shoots me a furious look. ‘I’m angry because that was a shit thing to say about you. Homophobic twat. He just literally “no homo’d” you. And you were never ugly.’
I’m a little stunned by that. ‘I don’t care about that stuff any more,’ I manage.
‘Well, I do!’ Her face is red with fury, and the people over in the shack selling buckets and spades are staring to stare. ‘He had no right—’
I quietly sing “Be Cool, Be Calm (And Keep Yourself Together)”.
And it does what I hoped it would, and disarms her.
‘Idiot,’ she says, but it’s softer, and she’s fighting a smile.
We had a really deep chat last year at Hugo’s, about her eyes, and what it meant. What it might stop her from doing. And for some reason, the only blind person that I could think of at the time was Stevie Wonder, and I told her that being blind hadn’t stopped him.
I thought, for a second, she was going to punch me.
But she didn’t. She burst out laughing, and the next thing we were watching videos of him on YouTube, and sharing my earphones, and it was fun.
Until Velvet ran past, crying, and Joe tried to deck Hugo.
I have a lot of regrets about stopping him.
But, something changed after that between me and Kait. At some point, we became actual friends: hanging-out-in-the-week, messaging-all-day-and-all-night friends. I can’t remember the last time she wasn’t the first person I spoke to in the morning, and the last person at night. They’re all my friends – Joe, Sash, Velvet –
but Kait is my best friend of them.
Actually, I think Kait is my best friend of anyone.
Huh.
I’d googled everything I could about Stargardt disease when I got home that night. And I listened to a lot more Stevie Wonder. Mum was deeply confused; apparently my nan on my dad’s side loved him, he’s that ancient. He’s pretty classic though, I reckon. And it’s cool he didn’t let being blind stop him from chasing his dreams.
I squeeze her hand and croon “Don’t You Worry ’bout a Thing”, wiggling my eyebrows.
She smacks me over the legs with her stick. ‘Fuck off,’ she mumbles, but I can hear her smile.
My phone buzzes, and I check it, expecting it to be Joe or Sasha, but it’s Clive, my boss at Thunder Burger. I scan the message and then tuck my phone back in my pocket.
‘Who was it?’ Kait asks.
‘Clive. Ruby’s phoned in sick, so he wants to know if I can cover.’
‘Are you going to?’
I shake my head.
She’s quiet for a moment. ‘Are you really thinking of going to college?’
I sigh. I’m not just thinking about it; I’ve applied for a yearlong course. And I’ve been accepted. Right now, college is the least humiliating thing I can do, and I feel like shit saying that to her, because however limited I think my options are, they’re better than hers. Going blind definitely trumps being famously unattractive in the shitty-life-hand stakes. I want to be an actor – I want my old life back – but it’s finally sinking in that it’s not going to happen. Agents aren’t interested in me. They haven’t been for a while, if I’m honest.
And I can’t stay at Thunder Burger – or Chunder Burger, as we call it when Clive isn’t listening. I don’t want to spend the rest of summer wiping down tables after some knob and his mates have just tipped an entire salt cellar on to it, let alone my whole life.
But admitting I’m going to college is admitting my life is going in a new direction. And I don’t want to. I like being an actor. I’m good at it.
It’s the only thing I’m good at. Being someone else.
‘You all right . . . ?’ Kait asks.
I realize I haven’t answered her last question, and I’m still holding her hand, our fingers laced together. It’s nice.
‘Is that . . . ?’
She squints into the distance, and I turn to see Joe and Sasha hurrying towards us. I turn my phone off. Sorry, Clive – I understand if you have to fire me.
‘I guess that’s that then.’ I stand, pulling her up with me. ‘Come on. Let’s go find a sleazy arcade and I’ll win you a manky toy before we head back.’
‘My hero,’ she grins. ‘Seriously, what a waste of a day though. I can’t believe we came all the way here for this.’
‘We came all the way here for Velvet,’ I say. ‘You can come to mine when we’re home, if you like?’ I add, finally letting go of her hand. I don’t want to be alone. Not now, I feel too weird, and another night going through The Stage might actually finish me off. ‘Mum’s at some charity function. You could stay over? Pizza and Netflix?’
‘Let’s ask Joe and Sasha too,’ Kait says, and for some reason it annoys me that she wants them there.
But I try to hide it. ‘Sounds good.’ OK, I could have tried harder.
Kait doesn’t seem to have noticed, as she replies ‘We might as well try to salvage something from this nightmare,’ her slightly unfocused eyes meeting mine. She smiles at me and pulls me into a hug.
And out of nowhere, my stomach does this thing. This weird, driving-over-a-hill-too-fast thing that it does not do for girls. Ever.
Ever.
I pull back.
‘What’s wrong?’ she asks.
‘Nothing,’ I manage. ‘Nothing.’
She shrugs, and looks past me, waving in the direction of Joe and Sasha.
What the actual fuck was that?
KAITLYN
I don’t know what the hell is wrong with Velvet, but this is the second year in a row that her choice of shag partner has ruined everyone else’s day. I’m trying not to be annoyed with her, because I’m obviously a feminist and stuff, but seriously. What the hell.
‘I should’ve thumped him,’ I say, almost to myself, as Joe and Sasha approach.
‘Who?’ Dawson asks, already moved on.
‘Joe,’ I say.
He blinks, and I laugh.
‘Obviously Griff.’
‘Nah, he’s not worth it,’ Dawson says. ‘Anyone who only sees the stick isn’t worth your time.’
I bite my lip to stop myself reminding him that I already know that, and anyway that isn’t even the problem. I’m actually pretty OK with people calling me the ‘blind one’. It’s annoying, but I don’t find it offensive, and it says more about the person saying it than it does me. But it does bother me that they were all talking happily about all their future plans – university, mostly, and even Dawson’s job – and no one asked me. Like, it didn’t even come up. No one looked at me and said, ‘What about you, Kaitlyn?’
I have plans, you know? I have a future too. What do they think – that I’m just going to sit at home all day with my deteriorating vision doing . . . whatever it is they think people with vision problems do? They probably thought they were being sensitive and kind, not asking. When actually they were being pretty damn insensitive.
I would’ve told them all about my apprenticeship at the florist’s. How I only said yes to make my mum happy, because I had literally zero interest in flowers and assumed I’d hate it. And you know what? I don’t like working with flowers.
I bloody love working with flowers.
There’s so much I could have said, if they’d asked. The apprenticeship is at a local florist’s about ten minutes from my house, and the woman who runs it, Bev, is the coolest person I’ve ever met. She didn’t start her floristry career until she was in her late thirties, and before that she was a prison officer. She is tough as nails, and sometimes, after a shift, she’ll teach me a new self-defence move.
And she says I can definitely have a proper job in her shop when I’m qualified. Last week, she showed me the research she’s been doing on the kind of accessibility adjustments she can make to the shop floor. She had about two pages of notes.
It’s an apprenticeship, so obviously the pay is total crap. But still – at least I get paid, and I’ll end up with the right qualifications to get paid properly. Most people my age – like my best friend, Avani, for one – are still stuck at school full time. Avani has a part-time job in a chip shop, so I’m clearly the lucky one in this scenario.
Anyway. What was I annoyed about?
‘Are you OK?’ Sasha demands when she and Joe reach us.
Oh yeah. Damn Griff. This is all his fault. If he wasn’t here, the university/futures talk probably wouldn’t even have come up. We could just have all had fun together at the beach, like we planned. Maybe Velvet would even have been happy to see us.
‘I’m fine,’ I say.
She clearly doesn’t believe me.
‘Griff is so awful,’ she says. ‘He was so rude!’
I can hear the anxiety in her voice, and it reminds me of something I’ve thought before, which is that Sasha is the kind of person who feels too much on other people’s behalf. Like life isn’t hard enough already without overloading on empathy.
‘Yeah,’ Dawson says, his arm curling around my shoulder. ‘Anyway, we’re going to go back to mine for a bit. You two should come.’
Sasha smiles, hopeful, and it makes her light up. ‘Really? That would be great.’ She glances at Joe, who is looking back in the direction they’d come from, clearly hoping to see Velvet following. ‘Right, Joe?’
Joe turns back to us. ‘Brilliant! We should wait for Velvet though.’
‘Should we?’ I ask.
‘I’ll message her,’ he says, pulling out his phone.
The thing is, I was really looking forward to seeing Velvet. All of them, in fact; not just D
awson. We have a lot of fun chatting in our little WhatsApp group, and they feel like real friends. That’s what I want right now. Real friends.
Avani and I don’t talk much any more, that’s the thing. Not since we stopped being at school together every day. Though maybe that’s not fair – maybe it goes back further than that. To my diagnosis, and her utter horror that made everything worse even though she tried to hide it (‘I’d rather go deaf, I think,’ she’d said thoughtfully, as if it was an actual choice, and I’d made the wrong one). To my work experience, which she was jealous of (‘An actual television studio! It’s not fair. Why didn’t everyone get that option?’). To the lift, which she didn’t understand (‘That’s so sad. So, did you see anyone famous?’). To Dawson and our unlikely friendship (‘Why are you still seeing him? Isn’t he, like, a celebrity? Is he researching for a role or something?’).
So, yeah. We just don’t have much to talk about any more. Plus, she’s got a new girlfriend who takes up a lot of her time. I miss her, but I also don’t miss her. It’s weird.
I thought maybe Velvet and I could bond over us both not going on to further education, what with her working at the hotel, and me with my apprenticeship. That could have been our thing. But really all she’s said to me is, ‘I love your hair!’ Which is what she always says. Maybe she doesn’t really like me all that much. Maybe she thinks my stick is weird.
People do. I wish they didn’t, and they pretend they don’t, but they do. At the very least, they stare. Even Sash and Joe stared when they first saw me with it. Not Dawson though. He never acts like this stuff is even unusual. I’m just Kait to him, which is the best thing.
I’ve had some deterioration over the last year with my sight – nothing major, but still – and even though I’ve known since my diagnosis that it would happen, it’s a bit scary. I’ve started bringing the stick around with me so I can get used to it as much as because I actually need it. One day, I won’t have a choice – and I want to be ready.