‘What? No! Of course not. I wasn’t interested in Becky O’Reilley. She wasn’t my type.’
I pull my bra up. My heart is racing.
‘But I am?’
‘Of course, Abbie. What’s this about?’
I sit up, rigid, pull away from him, straighten my bra and start to button my dress back up. I feel sick, confused, I have this sense of hurtling wrongness like things are happening that I have no control over. I don’t know what to believe anymore.
‘Can you drop me home now, please?’ I say.
I just can’t get the thought out of my head. The reason he wants me isn’t because of me; it’s because of Becky O’Reilley. She was unreachable when she was alive but now she’s gone and I’m here and somehow, he found his way to her. It’s her he wants, not me.
‘Abbie, stop. Don’t do this. You’re wrong. You’re completely wrong. Geez.’ He runs his hands through his hair like he wants to pull it out. ‘I promise. It’s not about her, it’s about you. It’s never been anything to do with her. I love you –’ And then he looks shocked, like he can’t believe the words came out of his mouth.
I lean back against the car seat. I’m not prepared for this. I’m not prepared to hear it. I don’t know what to say. I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out.
Zeke looks away, stares out the front windscreen. ‘Right, well. I’ll take you home,’ he says.
Chapter fifty-one
All the way home, all I want to do is cry. Everything is wrong. I took something that should have been beautiful and I broke it.
Zeke doesn’t say anything, but he has an expression I’ve never seen before on him – a hard, focused look. And then the real terror sinks in. I’ve lost him. He won’t even be my friend anymore. I’ve lost him completely, for good. I try to find a way to say something. I try to think of something I could say that will make it better, but it’s too late. I’m frozen. The words just won’t come.
‘You know this is insane,’ Zeke says, when he pulls into my driveway. ‘You need to sort your head out Abbie. Seriously. If you want anything good in your life. I just… I don’t think I can deal with this shit anymore. It’s too much.’
I try to stay upright, try not to let the tears that are welling up gain sufficient weight to trickle from my eyes onto my cheeks. I open the door in one jerky movement and step out of the car, stand up straight, slam the door, walk away without looking back. I can’t see for the tears now, but I don’t brush them away. I don’t want Zeke to see that I’m crying.
What have I done? Oh god, what have I done?
I need to talk to Leah.
I wait until I’m one hundred percent sure that Zeke is gone then I take my phone and walk up the hill. I dial Leah. There’s no answer. I try again. Leave a message on voicemail. I want to scream. I want to throw my phone on the ground. I hate this stupid town. I hate this stupid life. I hate Rebecca O’Reilley for doing all this to me. I take a breath. Rebecca O’Reilley’s dead. She didn’t choose to die any more than I chose to look like her. None of this is her fault.
And then I remember Zeke saying he loved me and I start to cry all over again. I sit down on the ground and ball my head between my knees and cover my ears with my arms, like the stick figures on the emergency landing instructions in airplanes do. I sob. Big, ugly, wet sobs. I feel like I’m breaking apart.
‘Abbie?’
I look up. Someone is standing over me. The sun is so bright behind them after the darkness of my huddle that for a fraction of a second I think it’s Zeke. But only for a fraction of a second because I know Zeke’s voice so well, I know the feeling of his presence, and it doesn’t feel like this.
It’s Andy.
‘Um, are you okay?’ he says.
I can just make out his frown.
I try to say something but I can’t get any words through the sobs.
‘Can I do anything to help?’ He sits beside me on the ground, his work boots crunching the dry grass.
I shake my head and the tears start again goddammit and he puts his arm around me, and even though it’s the last thing in the world that I intend to do I find myself crying into his work-shirt, which smells faintly of sweat and deodorant and woodsmoke.
He says ‘Shh, shhh,’ and strokes my hair and after a long time the tears stop and I close my eyes and just let myself rest there, against him. He’s big and solid and my weight feels like nothing on his shoulder.
‘Do you want to talk?’
I shake my head. I feel ashamed, deeply ashamed, for how I treated Zeke. I can see now that I was wrong, and for him the accusation must have come from nowhere. He must really think I’m insane. He’s my friend. He’s my boyfriend, or was. Is it that impossible for me to believe that Zeke just likes me for me? Do I have to imagine he’s living out some secret post-mortem fantasy with Becky O’Reilley?
Of course Zeke can’t deal with this anymore. He shouldn’t have to. But for some reason, I can’t let it go.
Andy takes my hand and squeezes. My hand feels small inside his. I don’t sit up but nestle in deeper against him. I don’t want him to see my face.
‘Shall we get you cleaned up?’ he says gently.
I nod. I guess I have to move at some point.
He stands and pulls me up. ‘If you need to talk, I’m ready to listen. And however bad you feel like it is, I can guarantee I’ve been through worse.’
I sniff and wipe my face with my forearm.
We walk back down to the house. Nobody else is home yet. It’s Thursday so the surgery is open late. Stacey was going to take Tom to football training and then pick Mum up after. At the front door, I turn to Andy to say thank you and before I realise what’s happening he pulls me towards him and kisses me so hard it stops my breath. For a moment I kiss him back, more out of shock than anything else, and then I pull away. What the hell?
‘Abbie,’ he says, and his voice is low and rough. He runs a finger down my cheek and I hold back a shiver. Then he leans forward and kisses me again, his mouth searching mine, his tongue tasting of cigarette smoke. I feel my body shaking as he moves his hand down my back. I’ve frozen. I don’t stop him.
All the while my brain is screaming at me: this is a terrible, horrible, awful, awful mistake.
Chapter fifty-two
I don’t know what I expect after we half-fall through the door together but it’s not this. Zelda has been confined to her bed since returning from the vet. She scrambles to her feet and the noise she makes is like none I’ve ever heard before – a deep-throated, guttural, desperate growl. Andy breaks away me and I feel a rush of relief.
‘Ah, I think your dog is a wee bit possessive,’ he says.
‘Hey Zelda, it’s okay, it’s just me,’ I say, approaching her, but the growling doesn’t stop. ‘She’s been a bit touchy since she was sick,’ I say over my shoulder. ‘Just give me a minute to settle her.’
‘I’ll go make you a drink,’ he says. ‘Replace some of those fluids.’ He reaches across and touches my cheek, which is still wet with tears.
‘Thanks.’
I crouch next to Zelda and pat her – long, slow strokes along her back and around her shoulders the way I always do when she gets agitated. It usually calms her, but not now. She has her ears pressed back against her head and is growling and whining and acting really weird. For a minute I think I’m going to have to call the vet, that maybe there’s still something wrong with her, but gradually she settles down.
Eventually, I shut her in the laundry and head down to the kitchen. I catch my reflection in the bathroom mirror as I walk past and almost stop for the horror of it. I look awful – puffy-faced, flushed and dishevelled. About as maximally unattractive as I could possibly imagine. There’s no way that Andy could actually want to kiss me when he sees what I look like. Today has been the worst, most ridiculous, poorly-judged, mistake-laden day in recent memory. I think of Leah and think that maybe she’s right about me needing to leave. Perhaps if Mum knew how I was
really feeling, she’d let us all move back to Sydney? Or maybe Leah’s parents would let me stay with them for a few months until mid-term break? Or I could bunk with my Dad’s crazy Auntie Annalise for a while? She always seemed to like me. Anything to get me out of Derrington.
‘Here –’ Andy’s holding out a glass.
‘Thanks,’ I say. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to –’
He shakes his head quickly. ‘Nothing to be sorry for.’ He smiles and gives me a look so focused and intense I feel like I didn’t exist until that moment.
I take a sip of the drink. It’s icy cold and sweet. He must have found the cordial that Mum keeps in the cupboard.
‘Can I just… have a minute? I’ll go clean my face up.’
‘Of course,’ he says.
I put the glass back down on the bench and walk to the bathroom. I close the door behind me and turn to face the mirror. I hardly recognise myself. I splash my face with water and take a few deep breaths. I wonder what Zeke’s doing now, how he’s feeling? I wonder if he’ll ever forgive me? I feel a stabbing pain in my chest. I don’t deserve forgiveness. I feel desolate to have been with him for such a short time after waiting so long and to have thrown it all away so comprehensively.
There’s a gentle knocking on the door.
‘Just a tick,’ I say, rubbing my face with a towel and running my fingers through my hair. It was completely mad kissing Andy. He’s gorgeous, but way too old for me. He was probably just sympathy kissing me anyway. He probably thinks I’m a joke. And most importantly, he’s not Zeke.
I miss Zeke terribly. Not just boyfriend-Zeke who likes kissing my boobs, but also Zeke-Zeke who’s been my friend, who’s been nothing but kind and thoughtful and generous since the first moment I met him. And the realisation is crushing. I can never go back. He’s gone and it’s all my fault.
‘Are you okay?’ Andy says through the closed door.
‘I’m fine.’
I take one last look at myself then push the door open. He’s leaning against the wall opposite. I have that stranded panicky feeling I used to get in Sydney when I found myself at the back of a crowded bus and I had to get off at the next stop and I just didn’t know how I was going to manage it.
‘Feeling a bit better?’ he says.
‘A bit better, thanks,’ I say evenly.
I want to manoeuvre him in the direction of the kitchen and away from my bedroom. I mean, technically it makes no difference because there’s nobody home anyway, but the kitchen feels more like neutral ground.
‘Do you need anything to eat or drink? I think there’s some cake left,’ I say.
He doesn’t say anything, just takes a step closer and something in me seizes up. I don’t know what to do. I need to say something, to tell him that I didn’t mean to kiss him, I need to take it all back, but I don’t know how.
‘You’re so sweet,’ he murmurs in a low voice. I stand stock-still with my back to the door. He reaches his hands to my shoulders, touches me lightly, and then strokes his fingers down either side of my face. My skin tingles.
‘Um, we probably shouldn’t. Mum will be home soon,’ I find myself saying while my internal voice is yelling NO NO NO. I don’t need to delay him, I need to set him straight. I need to tell him it was a mistake and that it’s not going to happen again.
‘We’ll hear the car, won’t we?’
‘The Clio’s pretty quiet,’ I say.
‘I have excellent hearing.’ He pulls me closer and buries his face in my hair, taking a deep inhalation. It feels like he’s shaking.
‘Um, I might finish that drink now,’ I say. ‘I feel a bit dizzy actually.’
‘Of course,’ he lets me go.
I walk back down the corridor, heart thudding in my chest, aware of every movement, every step. Aware of Andy walking just behind me.
‘I’ll have some cake,’ Andy says as we enter the kitchen. ‘Then I’d better go. I’m due to fix a blocked toilet. It’s a crappy job, no pun intended.’
‘I bet,’ I say, beginning to feel like I might be able to breathe again one day. He will eat cake and he will leave. I will talk to Leah and she’ll tell me what to do, how to fix things with Zeke. It’s going to be okay, I tell myself.
I serve a wedge up on a plate. ‘Thanks for helping me out today,’ I say, and actually at that moment I do feel grateful. He nods and watches me as I sit down at the table across from him.
I take a breath. ‘I had a fight with Zeke and I’m scared I screwed things up with him. I shouldn’t have kissed you. I don’t know what’s happening with Zeke. I don’t know how to fix it. But I hope it can be fixed.’
Something shifts in Andy’s expression. ‘Do you love him?’ he says.
‘I’ve never even had a boyfriend before. But he’s my friend. And I’m keen on him.’
Andy looks away and lays his spoon down carefully on the side of his plate.
The silence makes me nervous so I keep talking. ‘Sometimes I think I should just take Leah’s advice and move back to Sydney. This sort of stuff never happened to me there.’
Andy looks at me with a searching expression. I feel a bone-tingling anxiety moving through me at the thought that I kissed this man, this actual man I hardly know. And I know, if it wasn’t for Zelda, that we might have done more.
‘I reckon it’ll be alright,’ he says finally. ‘I know it doesn’t seem like it now. Everything seems difficult and complicated, but it’s going to be alright.’
‘I hope so,’ I say.
‘And don’t worry about Zeke. If it’s meant to work out it will, hey?’
‘I guess.’
And then he licks the fork clean, wipes his face with the back of his hand, and smiles.
Chapter fifty-three
When I get into range, my phone buzzes. I’ve missed half a dozen calls, all from Zeke. My gut knots. I can’t talk to him. I’ve compounded madness with error and there’s no way I can talk to him now. I’ve never done anything before that I feel worse about than kissing Andy. And that’s including the time when I was eight and purposefully broke Tom’s Christmas present because Mum didn’t get me a bicycle like I asked her to.
I call Leah.
‘Abs, what’s going on?’
‘I’ve fucked up,’ I say. ‘Really badly.’
‘Oh no, Abbie. Details, stat…’
So, I tell her. Everything.
Talking to Leah doesn’t make me feel better. If anything, it makes me feel worse. When I say it all out loud, I sound like the worst possible person. There’s a long silence on the other end of the phone after I finish.
‘Well, that is a pretty comprehensive fuck up Abbie. Even by my standards.’
‘What do I do?’
Leah’s been through this stuff so many times. I figure she’ll have something wise and helpful to say. She’ll know how I can fix it.
‘I think I’d better post-pack you some Lindt 70 percent with raspberry.’
‘Shit Leah,’ I say, and for a moment I’m furious with her. Then the realisation stings. She’s been through bucket-loads of heartbreak and I’ve never really taken it seriously. I’ve always seen it coming a mile off and then waited smugly through her misery, counting the days until she starts to smile again, until she answers my questions with more than a single syllable, until she’s ready to get back out there and start her life again. With me. Because her heartbreak meant I was getting my friend back.
I never realised how hard it was.
‘Does it always hurt this much?’ I ask through the tears that are streaming down my cheeks.
‘Sometimes more,’ she says quietly.
‘What happened with Brendan?’ I ask after a minute. ‘Your dad told me you guys broke up?’
I hear her sigh. ‘He said he really liked me but it mattered to him more than he thought it would that I didn’t share his religious beliefs.’
‘Bloody hell Leah, why didn’t you tell me?’
‘I thought you’d jus
t say you told me so. You’d been going on about him being a Mormon from the first time I mentioned it. It was just a big joke to you. And I really liked him.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I say.
‘Yeah well, that’s just how it goes, hey? Welcome to my world, Abbie. Heartbreak on every corner.’
I sniff and wipe my nose with the back of my arm. ‘Hey, I meant to say, thanks for leaving the dress for me. I love it.’
There’s a moment of silence. ‘Um, sorry, what dress was that?’
‘You know. The cream one with the little flowers. You left it on my bed.’
‘Nope, I didn’t. Sorry. Sounds cute though, you’ll have to send me a pic.’
‘That’s weird. I was sure it was you.’ I feel a sudden cold prickling down the back of my neck.
‘Now I feel guilty that it wasn’t from me. I totally should’ve left you a dress. Sorry Abs. I’ll send you one in the mail. With the chocolate.’
‘Yeah cool, thanks. I’d better go,’ I say. An uncomfortable thought is growing in my mind.
Leah says a few more meaningless and supportive things, then I hang up the phone. As soon as I do, I become aware of my surroundings. It’s getting dark. Mum and the others are still not home. The sky is fading through pink and purple and dusty greys to black. The first few stars are visible above the horizon. I shiver. It feels too empty here, too quiet. I pat Zelda, who’s been lying patiently beside me all the time I’ve been talking, and we head back down the hill. My mind is racing.
I’ve been wearing that dress, thinking it was from Leah, and it wasn’t.
Where did it come from?
Chapter fifty-four
I’m twenty minutes late when I walk in through the school gates the next morning. The yard is empty. Everybody is in class already. I head for homeroom and mutter an excuse then find my desk next to Kat’s. She nods to me then looks back to the teacher. One of the girls is giving a talk on a quiz night coming up that’s raising money for a children’s hospital somewhere. Then Ms Masters announces that the Parent Teacher Association has decided that Derrington has become too lax on school attire and that she’ll give us a day or two’s leeway but to expect a crack-down in the coming weeks. That news is met by groans and complaints. I sit silently and let it wash over me, counting down the minutes till we get to leave. I wish that what I had to wear to school felt like enough of a drama to make me upset. Given the state of my life, they could tell me I was only allowed to wear sackcloth and I wouldn’t care right now.
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