All the Things That Could Go Wrong

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All the Things That Could Go Wrong Page 6

by Stewart Foster


  ‘Alex, what’s going on?’ Mum takes her ear away from the phone.

  I don’t answer, but I can hear Lizzie saying something about me being grumpy as I rush up the stairs. I feel bad about shouting at Lizzie. It’s not her fault my head is tingling where the spit landed. She doesn’t know what Dan and Sophie did. I go into the bathroom, take off my top and lean over the bath. I turn on the shower and wash my hair again, and then again. My head is sore, my hands are stinging and I feel worn out. It’s like the water washes away all the germs, but takes all my energy with them down the drain.

  After I dry my hair on a towel, I sit down on my bed and pull the books out of my bag. Dan’s and Sophie’s footprints are all over the covers. It’s as if they’ve followed me like a herd of elephants all the way back to my house. I clean the covers with my wipes, then flip the lid of the laptop. It’s so dark now that the screen lights my room like a lamp.

  I’ve got stacks of history homework to do. I google ‘the Great Plague of London’ and read about how 15% of the population died in the heat of one summer, but nothing goes into my brain because all I can think about is Dan’s spit on my hair. I want to wash it again, but I read somewhere that if you wash hair too much it starts to fall out. It’s bad having spit on my head, but it would be even worse if I was bald.

  I’m going to go bald.

  I’m not.

  I’m going to go bald and everyone will think I’m really ill.

  I put my hand on my hair to try and stop it disappearing.

  ‘Alex!’

  Mum’s standing in the doorway with the phone in her hand.

  ‘I’m going bald!’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  Mum gives me a sideways look and holds out the phone. ‘It’s Dad,’ she says. ‘He wants a word.’

  I take the phone. Mum walks out of the room, shaking her head like she’s trying to work out what I just said. I wipe the phone and put it to my ear.

  ‘Hi, Dad.’

  ‘Hello, mate, what are you up to?’

  ‘Doing homework.’

  ‘Mum says you’ve had a bad day.’

  ‘Yeah.’ I sigh.

  ‘What’s up?’

  Got called Shark Face all day. Got my books trampled on. Got spat at on my way home.

  ‘Alex?’

  ‘Nothing much. Just stuff.’

  ‘You sure?’

  ‘Yeah, I’m fine.’

  ‘Well, you don’t sound it, but I’ve got something that’ll cheer you up.’

  Great! Dad’s built a rocket, and me and him are going to fly to Mars, away from Dan and Sophie.

  ‘How would you like to see The Force Awakens?’

  We’re not going to Mars, but the cinema!

  ‘Yes!’ I clench my fist. I’ve wanted to see The Force Awakens for ages.

  ‘Have you got the DVD?’

  ‘No,’ Dad says. ‘It’s not out yet.’

  ‘But they stopped showing it at the cinema after Christmas.’

  ‘They did, but there’s a special showing tomorrow evening. I know you don’t like surprises, but this way you have less time to worry, and it won’t be so crowded as it was before.’

  I pick up Han Solo from the windowsill. Dad tried to take me to the cinema in the Christmas holidays, but I took ages in the bathroom and then I couldn’t get in the car because I’d dreamt someone had stolen it the night before and cut the brakes. Dad got really annoyed with me, but not as annoyed as I was with myself. I’ve seen every Star Wars film except that one and it was even worse when I got back to school because everyone was talking about it.

  Dad tells me I need to me ready by 7 o’clock and I can’t be late because he’s buying the tickets tonight. It means I’ll have to start getting ready as soon as I get home from school in case my OCD goes mad, but I’m so happy I’m going I don’t want to think about that now.

  I put Han Solo back on the windowsill next to Chewbacca.

  ‘Alex, are you still there?’

  I smile even though Dad can’t see me. I lean Han Solo over.

  ‘Chewie, we’re home!’

  ‘What?’

  ‘It’s what Han Solo says.’

  Dad laughs. ‘I’ve never heard you say that.’

  ‘Me and Elliott used to do it.’

  ‘He could come too if you like.’

  I think of Elliott at school after Christmas running around, then curling up and balancing a ball on his head, pretending to be BB-8. I only knew what it was because I’d seen the film trailers on the laptop.

  ‘No, it’s okay,’ I say.

  ‘Why not? You two really got along.’

  ‘I know. But I just want to go with you.’ Dad goes quiet like he knows I’m lying. I would really like Elliott to come too because he loves Star Wars nearly as much as me, but we might get seen by other kids from school and he’d get picked on again.

  ‘Okay,’ Dad says. ‘Maybe another time. I’ll get off now, leave you to your homework.’

  ‘Okay. Be safe.’

  Dad doesn’t reply but he has to say it. His phone could self-destruct, or a burglar will break into his building and he’ll beat Dad up in the dark. My chest begins to ache. I wish he was coming home tonight, that way I could make sure nothing bad happens to him. The house is quieter since he and Mum split up. Mum said they still love each other, but are happier when they’re apart which is how I feel about Lizzie sometimes, but right now I want Dad to say ‘Be safe’ so the phone won’t blow up in his hand.

  ‘Dad, are you still there?’

  ‘Yeah, I’ll see you soon.’

  ‘No, Dad. Please say it. Be safe.’

  ‘I’ve got to go and check the alarms.’

  ‘Dad! Pleeeease,’ I say, like Lizzie.

  ‘Okay,’ he says. ‘Be safe, mate … But Alex?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘We need to stop this soon.’

  ‘I will, Dad. Promise.’

  ‘Goodnight, mate.’

  The phone goes quiet. I take a deep breath and lie back on my bed. I can’t wait to go to the cinema, but I wish Elliott could come too. My head starts to tingle again.

  I’ve got to wash my hair.

  I’ve done it ten times.

  Then do it again.

  No. No!

  I get up, take my guitar out of its case and sit down on my bed. I need to do my homework, but I can’t do anything until the thoughts go away. I wipe the strings then pinch the fingers of my left hand on the frets. As I play the strings vibrate through the guitar against my chest and make the ache ease. I play a tune. I don’t know what it is, but it sounds okay and then some lyrics come into my head so I sing them too. My worries start to float away, higher and higher, like clouds drifting across the sky. I watch them drift away from me, over the tops of tall buildings and hilltops, until they’re tiny soap bubbles on the horizon and then they disappear, and the sky is clear blue and I can feel the warmth of the sun shining brightly on my face as I float on the sea.

  I hear someone giggling and open my eyes.

  ‘Haha! You’re singing Justin Bieber!’

  Lizzie’s standing in the doorway, pointing and laughing at me.

  ‘I wasn’t.’

  ‘You were! You were singing “Over the mountains, across the sky”. I heard you. You think you’re Justin Bieber!’

  ‘I don’t … I wasn’t.’ I feel my face burning. ‘I was just singing. Mum!!!’

  ‘You were singing “Be Alright”.’

  ‘I wasn’t!’

  ‘You were, you were singing about the oceans and the sea.’

  ‘Go away,’ I say. ‘Mum!’

  I stand up. Lizzie runs out. I push my door closed and lean my back against it to stop her coming back in, but I can still hear her giggling on the other side. I take a deep breath and bump the back of my head against the door. I can’t wait to see The Force Awakens, but this day is getting worse the longer it goes on. I’ve been spat on and I’m going bald,
and now I can’t even escape from all my worries and Dan and Sophie without getting Justin Bieber songs stuck in my head.

  Dan: There’s a dragon in my brother’s bedroom

  My mum’s on the phone in the kitchen.

  HELLO, LOVE, she mouths and then points at the phone.

  WHO IS IT? I mouth back.

  MR FRANCIS.

  What? Mr Francis! Why’s he calling? Mr Hargreaves must have seen us get Shark Face. We should have waited until he’d turned off the main road. I reach for the biscuit tin and try not to look worried. Mum puts her hand over the mouthpiece.

  ‘Where have you been?’ she whispers.

  ‘Down the seafront, checking on Shooting Star.’

  ‘I said only at weekends. You’ve got school in the week.’

  I grab three biscuits and shrug.

  My mum shakes her head, then takes her hand away from the phone. ‘Yes … Yes, I understand. He’s just come in now.’

  I feel guilty for lying to her, but she’d be so mad if she found out what I’ve just done to Shark Face.

  I go up the stairs to my room. Mum’s still on the phone – something about how she’ll talk to me, and to Dad. I shut my bedroom door loud enough so she thinks I’ve gone in, but really I’m crouched down on the landing. I do it all the time when I’m in trouble. Ben used to do it too. Sometimes we’d sit together and try to guess which one of us our mum was talking about. It used to be Ben who was in trouble for walking out of school or stealing drinks from the shop, but, now that he’s gone away, the only person Mum talks about is me.

  I crawl to the edge of the stairs.

  ‘I know,’ I hear her murmur. ‘It’s hard to know what to do. Yes, I’m sorry … Wednesday will be fine.’

  I imagine Mr Francis on the other end of the line, writing my name down in his diary. I’ll say it was a mistake. I was just spitting my chewing gum out and Shark Face’s head got in the way.

  Mum’s voice grows louder as she walks out into the hall.

  ‘No, I don’t know. Like I said, he’s only just got in.’

  I poke my head round the banister. My mum’s at the bottom of the stairs, going through my bag!

  ‘Red, you say? Yes, I’ve found it. I’ll make sure that he does.’

  Maths homework? Is that all this is about?

  ‘Okay, we’ll see you Wednesday.’

  No! I don’t want Mum and Dad coming down to the school again.

  The phone beeps as she presses the end call button. I see her shadow at the bottom of the stairs. I crawl across the landing, open the door and creep into my bedroom.

  ‘Dan?’ She’s halfway up the stairs. I pick up my sketchpad quickly.

  ‘Dan?’ She knocks on the door.

  ‘Yes.’

  She leans into my room. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Just drawing. Ben wants me to design a sail for Shooting Star.’ I show her the drawing that I actually drew last night. Mum looks at it like it’s blank.

  ‘So … that was Mr Francis.’

  I start to draw.

  ‘He said he’d been trying to get me at work. He said he tried to talk to you today, but you just walked off.’

  I shade the sail.

  ‘Dan? Are you listening?’

  ‘Yes … It was boring,’ I mumble.

  ‘What was?’

  ‘The lesson. Him.’

  ‘He was just concerned.’

  I shrug.

  ‘Do you want to talk about it?’

  ‘Not really.’

  Mum sits down at the end of my bed.

  ‘Are you sure? That’s the third time he’s called this term.’

  ‘It’s nothing.’ I sigh. ‘He’s just picking on me.’

  ‘I don’t think Mr Francis is like that. Is it that Sophie girl?’

  ‘No.’ I look her in the eyes. She waits for me to say something else, but I stay silent. I know she doesn’t like Sophie. She thinks she’s a bad influence on me, that my behaviour has changed since we became friends. I don’t think it’s true, but I suppose I do get into more trouble when Sophie’s around.

  I pick up my Xbox controller. Mum’s still looking at me.

  ‘We should do something together.’ She claps her hands like she’s had a great idea. ‘I’m going to your gran’s for tea tomorrow. Want to come?’ she asks.

  ‘No.’ I can’t think of anything worse.

  ‘Why not. You’ve not seen her in ages.’

  I shrug. ‘All she does is knit and watch Pointless all the time.’

  ‘Dan, that’s not true.’

  ‘Yes it is.’

  ‘Well, I’ll think of something we can do.’

  I get up and walk over to Rex’s cage.

  ‘Dan, are you listening?’

  ‘Yeah.’ I flick my fingers across the cage bars so Rex will come out of his red house.

  Mum sighs, then pauses for a bit. ‘Dan, this is getting tiring. You’re not interested in anything or anyone. Mr Francis is concerned about your attitude and your progress and so are me and your dad. Dan.’ She stands next to me. ‘I know this is hard for you, but Mr Francis thinks your behaviour is linked to what’s happened to Ben.’

  ‘It’s nothing to do with Ben!’ I shout.

  Mum jumps back, startled. ‘Okay,’ she says. ‘We just thought—’

  ‘Well, you thought wrong! I’m all right. You’re all keeping on at me, but there’s nothing the matter with me.’

  ‘Okay,’ she says softly, trying to calm me down.

  I look back at the cage. Rex has come out of his house and is sleepily nibbling the end of my finger.

  Mum sighs. ‘Come down and eat something with me and your dad when he gets in.’

  I squeak at Rex through my teeth.

  ‘Dan, did you hear?’

  ‘Yes,’ I mumble.

  Mum walks towards the door. ‘And don’t forget to feed Horace.’

  ‘I won’t.’

  Mum walks out of my room and down the stairs. I put my pad down and go next door into Ben’s room. The bed is made and there are pictures of all the Brighton & Hove Albion players on his wall. His Xbox controllers are on his beanbag and The River Wild DVD case is open and empty on the floor. It’s like Ben’s just got up to go to the toilet and will be back any second. The room has been exactly like this for three months. When Mum cleans it, she puts everything back like it was.

  I used to love coming in here, but it’s horrible when Ben’s bed is empty and his TV is blank. I pick up the DVD case. Me and Ben watched the film again the night before he went. We used to sit and watch it and pretend his bed was the raft and we’d dig our paddles over the side as we went down the rapids. But the night before he went we didn’t do that. Ben just sat really quiet. His room has been quiet ever since. Last week I overheard Dad tell Mum the room was like a morgue.

  I hear a click. I turn round and see Horace, Ben’s bearded dragon, lying on a branch in his glass tank. His eyes are wide open and the skin is flapping on his neck every time he breathes. I check the temperature chart Ben has stuck to the wall. If Horace is dark, he’s too cold; if he’s bright green, he’s too hot. Tonight his body is green like an army uniform. The chart says that’s okay. Now all I’ve got to do is feed him.

  I take the top off a plastic container and pick out a cricket. It’s Horace’s favourite because he licks his lips when he sees one. I drop the cricket in front of him. The cricket lands, tries to scuttle under the branch, but then ZAP! Horace’s tongue shoots out and the cricket has gone.

  I wish I could text Ben and tell him Horace is okay. I wish I could talk to him, but he’s not allowed to have a phone. He’s not even allowed to send emails. But he is allowed to send letters, because he’s not dead. It’s just this house and my mum and dad that make it feel like he is.

  I give Horace two more crickets, put the lid on his tank and go back into my room. I pull open my bedside drawer, lift up my comics and find the last letter Ben sent.

  Dear Danny<
br />
  Hope you’re good. I am. I’ve made a new friend. He came in last week. His name’s xxxxx and he comes from xxxxxx but he supports xxxxxxx. He’s great but he gets a bit fed up because this place is a long way from his home. We play Call of Duty and FIFA on the Xbox all the time. He’s better than you but not as good as me. Ha! I’ve got to go to bed early tonight because they still make us get up really early in the mornings. We’ve got lessons all day tomorrow. History in the morning. It’s so boring.

  How are you getting on with Shooting Star? You can take the drawing to the cave if you want. But don’t leave it there because it’ll get damp.

  And how’s the Observation Tower going? It must be nearly finished. Can’t wait to go up it when I get home. Tell Dad I miss going to see the Albion, but I get to see the goals on telly.

  I’ve got to go now. I want to get in the shower before the other kids use up all the hot water. Hope you have a good week at school and remember what I said, you’ve got to be a big fish and eat all the others up or they will eat you.

  Ha!

  I’ll send another letter next week,

  Ben

  PS Come on you Gulls!

  I glance over the letter again. I wish the detention centre people hadn’t crossed out Ben’s new friend’s name and who he supports. Ben doesn’t send many letters so it’s horrible when bits are crossed out. Mum said they do it deliberately to protect the young person’s identity, but I wish they didn’t because I’d like to poke fun at Five X when his team lose. It’s got seven letters so it could be Chelsea, Arsenal, Everton or Watford, but it might not even be a team in the Premier League. I’ve tried to work his name out too, but there are so many names with five letters – Aaron, Billy, Chris, David – it might even be a nickname. I gave up trying to work it out so I just call him Five X instead.

  A car engine rumbles outside. I leave the letter on my bed and walk over to the window. Dad gets out with his briefcase in his hand and waves when he sees me. I wave back and he smiles, but he won’t be smiling after Mum’s told him they’ve got to go down my school again.

  The front door opens and I hear Dad talking to Mum in the kitchen. He’s saying something about sales of a new TV being slow and that two sales assistants are off sick. My dad owns a TV shop in town, which is great because we get the biggest TVs at home, but it also means he’s really busy when people go sick. He tells Mum that Maurice should be back tomorrow. Then Mum says she’s tired too, from answering the phone at the NHS Call Centre all day.

 

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