• • •
The third day after the scan Tai turns up at school. He’s late, but he nonchalantly hands the teacher his yellow late slip and slides into the chair beside me like nothing’s wrong. Tai’s forgotten, though, that I know him. And even without that conversation with Hendrix, I’d still be able to pick that everything’s wrong and nothing is right. I can spot the cracks in his facade. His eyes, smudgy underneath, like more has kept him up than studying for the bio exam today. And his fingers, drumming on the desk, a little too relentlessly. He catches me looking at him and smiles. I smile back. If he wants to pretend that nothing’s wrong, well, two can play that game.
After home class, the seniors are called to a special assembly in the school hall. We sit there and listen, or at least pretend to, as they explain for the hundredth time how to apply for uni. Tai’s next to me still, but he’s mucking around now, flicking bits of paper at his mates, using a ruler for leverage. One of the teachers comes over to tell him off, reminding him that this is important information for your future. I’m watching everything, watching the smart-arsed reply lurking behind his lips, when Tai’s eyes catch mine, and his sarkiness turns to horror as he realises I know. I know.
The look on his face brings tears to my eyes, and I jump up and flee the room. It’s only a matter of minutes before Tai finds me, like I know he will. He sits beside me at one of the tables that overlook the oval practice field and shifts uncomfortably as he tries to find the words. I run my fingers along the graffiti people have scratched into the wood, trying desperately to swallow the lump in my throat.
‘Shit, Juliet. Hendrix said you called but I never realised he would’ve . . . shit. You must hate me. I never texted you back or anything. I just – couldn’t. I didn’t know how to tell you. Sorry.’
I shrug.
‘The scan showed a tumour. A pretty big one, apparently.’ He draws a deep breath, like he’s steeling himself to go on. ‘They don’t know yet whether it’s the bad kind or not. They want to do a biopsy – stick a needle in and take out a piece of the tumour to test it. It’s just . . . weird. You know? Like it’s not real.’
I’m crying now, huddling into his shirt and staining it with teary mascara tracks. Tai’s stroking my hair, telling me how he was awake most of the night, wondering how the fuck he could have something growing in his brain and have no idea.
The idea of going back to the assembly seems absurd, so we grab our bags from our lockers and walk out the school gates. We’re mostly silent, though I ask a few questions. When is the biopsy? When do you get the results of that? How freaked out are your olds? What happens now, Tai?
He tells me the biopsy is next week; they’ll get the results a few days after. His olds are as stressed as it comes. He has no answer for my last question.
We head back to my place, knowing Mum will be at work. I pinch some of her vodka, pour it into two tumblers, and hand one to Tai. If we were grown-ups I suppose I’d make us cups of tea and say sensible, soothing things, but neither of us drinks tea, and I can’t think of anything comforting to say, so vodka and silence will have to do.
We sit together on the lounge, sipping our drinks, and trying to hide our despair from each other. Eventually Tai says he has to leave; he doesn’t want his olds to worry if he’s late home.
He picks up his schoolbag and we walk slowly to the front door, pausing in the kitchen. I feel the tears welling up, but before I can say anything Tai has grabbed a pen off the bench. ‘Here. Give me your arm.’ He draws a little outline of a heart in black Sharpie. ‘Here’s that tattoo you’ve always wanted.’
I take the pen from him. ‘Let me do you.’
He holds out his arm but I shake my head. ‘Not there.’ I lift up a corner of his school shirt and draw a heart just above his hipbone. Then I kiss him goodbye.
Once he’s gone I grab my phone; it’s been beeping and my guess is it’s Gen, wondering why I disappeared. I’m right, too.
Hey. What was that about at assembly? You ok?
I can’t answer her, not yet, because even if I could press my shaky fingers onto the right buttons at the right time I’m not sure I want to.
By the time Mum gets home from work I’m in the bath. She knocks on the bathroom door, calling my name.
‘I’m in the bath, Mum.’ I’m hoping my voice doesn’t crack and betray me.
‘I talked to Mia today, baby. I’m so sorry. Can I come in?’
I don’t answer and she takes it as a yes.
‘You know,’ she says, sitting on the edge of the bath, ‘it might turn out to be nothing.’
‘How can it, Mum?’
‘No-one knows yet what kind of tumour it is,’ she reminds me.
‘No, but Tai said it was big and that’s got to be bad, right?’
‘Not always. And Tai’s young and healthy – that’ll be in his favour.’
‘He said they might have to operate, or maybe even do chemo.’
‘It might be the quickest and easiest way of treating it, Juliet.’
‘It’s not fair.’
There’s silence for a while, and then Mum says quietly, ‘No, it’s not.’
Later that night I get a lecture on not wagging school and not being alone in the house with Tai drinking vodka – Mum has seen the two glasses in the sink. It’s strangely comforting. Lectures like this are normal, and nothing else about today has seemed normal.
Tai
Mum is waiting by the door when I get home, as if she’s been watching for me.
‘Juliet didn’t take the news well, I see.’ She points at my school shirt, covered in streaky patches of eyeliner and mascara.
‘No. Not really.’ I walk into the kitchen in desperate need of food. Mum follows behind; she’s not done yet.
‘Take your shirt off and I’ll soak it straight away.’
She holds out her hand, so I take off my blazer and unbutton my shirt.
‘What is that?’ Mum points at my hipbone, at the heart drawn there.
‘Oh, that – Juliet drew it.’
‘Why is she drawing on body parts that are usually covered by clothes?’ Mum gives me one of those deathly parent looks reserved for situations like this.
I just shrug.
‘Tai, are you having sex with Juliet?’
‘What? No.’
I’m saved when River runs into the kitchen, Hendrix right behind him.
I make my escape.
• • •
Later that night, after my brothers have gone to bed, Mum sends Dad in to talk to me. He sits on the edge of my bed, staring at the stuff on my walls, looking like he’s wandered in here for no reason.
‘Um . . . Dad? Can I help you?’
He launches into an awkward speech about how bad news and health scares make people reckless and impulsive, about not doing things I’ll regret when this is all over. Eventually he runs out of steam, looks at me and shrugs, like, That’s all I’ve got.
‘Um, yeah. Okay. I’ll remember that.’
He stands up to go, but when he gets to the doorway he looks back at me. ‘Are you having sex, Tai?’
‘No. Now please go away.’
‘Are you okay, Tai?’
I shrug. ‘I guess.’
When he’s gone I stretch out on the bed, don’t care that I’m starting to fall asleep with my clothes on, my teeth not brushed, but then I see my phone out of the corner of my eye and remember I promised Juliet I’d text her.
I don’t really want to talk about the tumour, don’t want to ask her if she’s stopped crying yet or just wants to fall in bed and stay there for a couple of days like I do. So instead I tell her about how Mum saw the heart and the lecture Dad gave me, how I’m mentally scarred by his examples of being physically intimate with someone without actually having sex. She tells me about how her mum saw the two glasses in the sink, how that ended up in a lecture too.
I’m going to run out of credit soon, I warn her. Goodnight, girl.
W
ish things were different, she replies. I’m scared for you.
I don’t know what to say, so I hit the button to put my phone on silent and pretend I’ve run out of credit. She’s not the only one who’s scared. And if that’s not bad enough, there’s the way everyone looks at me, like they’re constantly trying not to cry. And Juliet . . . she’s just exhausting, even though I know she doesn’t mean to be like that. Her fear overshadows everything, including my own feelings about it. Hendrix and River are the only ones acting half normal, and that’s just because they’re too little to really understand. My phone starts glowing beside me, and I flip it over so I can’t see the screen.
• • •
In the morning, Mum knocks on my door and tells me it’s time to get ready for school. I ignore her and roll over, eyes still closed. A little while later she knocks again. ‘Tai, you’re going to be late.’
I hear my door open and look around to see River flying at me, landing on the bed with a soft thud.
‘Get up, Tai, you’re missing breakfast and Hendrix is using all of the milk on his cereal.’ He’s as indignant as he can be in rumpled Superman pyjamas, undies pulled over the top.
Mum appears in the doorway. ‘You feel okay, Tai?’
‘Yeah. Fine. I just . . . I really don’t want to go to school today. Do I have to?’
‘You can have today off. But just today, okay?’
‘Okay. Thanks, Mum.’
‘Do I have to go to school today?’ River looks up at her hopefully.
‘Yes. Go and brush your teeth and get dressed.’
‘You’re so . . . mean.’
‘I know. Go do your teeth.’ Mum hustles River out the door and closes it behind her, and I close my eyes and go back to sleep. When I wake up again, River and Hendrix are at school, and Mum and Dad are sitting in the kitchen, just staring at each other. I announce I’m going to the beach, pull boardies on, grab my keys, and head out the door.
The beach is deserted, only a lone seagull and a couple of oldies wobbling about, up to their knees in the water. They say something in greeting as I walk past, and I smile back, but I haven’t heard a word they said. The water is freezing, but I don’t care, diving in headfirst and staying under until my lungs protest, letting the waves throw me around. All I can see is blue. My mouth tastes of salt, and I feel like I could swim forever, surrounded by the blue. Eventually though, I swim with the waves, letting them push me all the way back onto the sand, and sit on the beach for a while. I’m practically covered in sand, on my skin, in my mouth, in my hair. I shower away the salt, wash the sand off my legs, out of my hair, rub the spot where a headache is lingering without even thinking about doing it. Fuck. That’s it, that’s the tumour – it’s real and it’s there.
I’m walking back home when I see a girl coming the other way. I see her iPod and a huge can of Red Bull clutched by this little hand with black fingernails before I realise it’s Juliet heading towards me, wearing the hoodie she borrowed off me last week, before all of this happened, back when everything was normal still. She’s wearing her sunglasses and I’m glad I can’t see her eyes. I know she’ll look like she’s been crying all night.
‘Hey, Tai.’ She fumbles in her bag and holds out my iPod. ‘You left this at my place yesterday. Thought you might want it.’
I stuff it in my pocket. ‘Thanks. You okay?’
‘Not really. You?’
‘Yeah. Not really.’
She wraps her arms around me, kisses me. ‘Sorry about freaking out on you yesterday.’
I smile at her. ‘It’s okay. I’ve seen worse from you.’
‘I can’t stay,’ she tells me. ‘Will you be at school tomorrow?’
‘Yeah. Unfortunately. We’ve got double maths tomorrow, don’t we?’
‘Please don’t remind me.’ She looks pained. ‘I’ve got to go.’
I pull her in, kiss her. ‘See you tomorrow.’
Juliet
It’s been a week. A week since everything changed. I’ve just got to school, and plonk beside Gen, in our usual spot behind the sports shed. I mutter, ‘Fuck,’ and fill her in on what Tai’s told me. Gen’s arm encircles me, and for once she’s quiet, knowing that nothing she says can fix this.
We head to class together, and I’m feeling okay, anchored in my seat between Gen and Tai. Our teacher bustles in late, explaining that her car wouldn’t start and she’s having one of those days. Tai and I exchange looks, a silent You think that’s bad. She’s in a fierce mood, telling us she’s cracking down on us, exams coming up and all that. While she says it she’s eyeballing the hair-plaiting girls and the gum-chewing boys, with a look reserved for Tai, who’s staring out the window.
We’ve been wagging classes the past few days, sneaking away when we should be in class, passing notes to each other when we bother to turn up. Our teachers know, of course; Mia rang the school, and Tai overheard her asking them to keep things normal for him, to keep onto him about homework and assignments, not to let our classmates know. It means our teachers have been alternating between being ultra-nice, pretending not to see us passing notes or turning up late, and coming down hard on whatever needs to be in on time, whatever they’re going to have to grade. Tai laughs it off. ‘They’re just trying to remember what normal feels like, Juliet.’
When the end of the lesson comes, I realise I haven’t heard a word the teacher has said, but I manage to tune in as she’s handing out the latest assignment, due next week. Tai’s already been told off twice for distracting me, so she looks at him meaningfully as she says, ‘No excuses.’
Tai shifts restlessly, like she’s laid down a personal challenge, and I know what’s coming. I tap his arm to warn him but I can see him thinking about his perfectly good excuse. He says, ‘I won’t be here next week, Miss. I’m having a biopsy done on the tumour in my brain. Sorry.’
As we walk out of class I can’t help but elbow him.
‘Did you have to?’
By lunchtime the entire school knows, and as he walks through the playground Tai’s already become The Guy With the Tumour, even to his mates. They clap him awkwardly on the shoulder and it’s clear they don’t know what to say to him, or how to act.
Tai and I eat lunch in a far corner of the oval, not caring that it’s out of bounds. Tai’s miserable, and I can tell he wishes he could take it back, but it’s too late – everything is different now.
When the bell rings we go back to class, and for the rest of the afternoon I watch people talk about him instead of to him and I hate it.
• • •
That night I go to Tai’s and we curl up on the lounge to watch a DVD with a bowl of popcorn between us. Mia’s friends are gathered in the kitchen, with their dodgy seventies music turned up just loud enough to annoy us, but not quite loud enough to wake up River and Hendrix.
We’ve reached a particularly boring part of the movie when Tai nudges me. ‘Hey, I’m really thirsty. Can you get me some water from the fridge? I can’t go in there. The last time I went in they were talking about sucky-in underpants. I’m seriously afraid of the therapy I’m going to need.’
I laugh. ‘Oh, all right then. But you have to pay for my therapy when I need it later.’ As I’m making my way down the hallway I hear the pop of another bottle of wine being opened, and Mia is talking, quietly. I pause outside the door, not sure if I should interrupt.
‘I can’t believe it’s happening, not to us. Not to Tai. I’m supposed to be able to fix everything – I’m his mother. And I was doing okay until now. Scraped knees and broken skateboards I could handle. This . . . this is beyond me. I’m supposed to be worried about him doing drugs, having sex – not a brain tumour. Hendrix keeps asking what happens now and I don’t know what to tell him. I don’t know how much they understand. River asked me last night if Tai was going to die and what was I supposed to tell him?’
I don’t want to hear any more. I tiptoe back to the lounge.
‘I couldn’t do it,’ I lie.
‘I got close and heard the word “underpants”. That was enough for me. Sorry.’
Tai groans, and goes to drink out of the bathroom tap instead. When he gets back, the credits are rolling. ‘Want to watch something else?’ he asks.
I check my watch. ‘Can’t. Curfew.’
He pulls a face. ‘Want to hang out tomorrow night?’
‘I wish. I have to go to Dad’s.’ I pull the same face back at him.
‘Are you okay?’ He’s looking at me more closely now.
‘Yeah.’ Just I heard your mum use your name and the word ‘die’ in the same sentence. I sigh. ‘I’d better go.’
• • •
Mum is waiting up in the kitchen when I get home. ‘Did you have a good time?’ She looks tired, the strands of grey in her hair highlighted under the kitchen lights.
I shrug. ‘It was okay.’
‘What did you get up to?’
‘We just watched a movie.’
‘How’s Tai?’
‘Okay, I guess. He’s got the biopsy next week but he doesn’t really want to talk about it.’
‘He probably doesn’t want to worry you,’ she says gently.
‘Too late.’
Mum yawns, then gets up and puts her cup in the sink. ‘I’m going to bed. What time do you want me to take you to your dad’s tomorrow?’
‘I don’t want to go.’
‘Juliet.’ She gives me that Don’t Make Me Do This look. ‘He’s your father. He wants to see you.’
‘Yeah, every couple of months when the guilt kicks in. There’s never anything to do there, Mum. It’s boring. And he likes Tina more than me.’ I pout.
‘And me.’ Mum smiles wryly.
‘Goodnight, Juliet.’
‘’Night, Mum.’
• • •
Just like the night before the scan, Tai and I spend the night before the biopsy texting each other instead of sleeping.
You ready for tomorrow?
No. Kind of. I don’t know.
Just too weird, isn’t it? After a second, I add, Wish I could think of something better to say, and hit send.
Everything Left Unsaid Page 5