Gen lunges at me, nearly knocking the glasses over, and flings her arms around me.
‘You will not,’ she says firmly. ‘I promise.’
Lina and Rae stand up and wrap their arms around me too.
‘We won’t let you be lonely, Juliet,’ Lina says.
Tai
The guys arrive not even ten minutes after Juliet has left. Alex is carrying a carton of beer and Sam’s carrying a pile of takeaway pizzas. Tom thrusts a plastic shopping bag into my hands. ‘Hey, Tai. Limes, for the beers.’
We take the lot out onto the balcony and they tell me what they’ve been up to the past couple of nights – chucking water bombs off their balcony, Alex getting his eyebrow pierced, how a bunch of girls dared them to do a nudie run into the water last night. Tom tells me how one of them tried to kiss Sam, wanted him to go have sex with her, but he wasn’t keen.
‘Aren’t you still with Nikki?’ I ask Sam.
‘Nah, we broke up about a month ago. I thought I told you.’
‘Nope. Sorry, Sam. How long were you guys together?’
‘A couple of months, I think. It’s cool. She started talking about our future and I mean, I liked her and all, but not like that.’ Looking almost irritated he leaps up to get another beer. ‘Hey, Tai, have you got any vodka? Let’s put vodka shots in the beers.’
‘Let me see what’s left from Juliet’s cocktail-making last night.’ I grin, and go inside to get the bottle.
We sit out there for ages, radio up loud, pooling our cash and ringing up for more pizza, getting drunk because we can. Alex produces a bottle of rum from somewhere and says, ‘Drinking game, you guys, come on,’ and it seems like a good idea, even if all I feel like doing is watching.
So they drink and brag and Tom dares Alex to squirt lime juice up his nose and it’s the funniest thing I’ve seen in forever. After a few more passes of the rum bottle Alex starts looking pretty seedy and says he’s going to spew. I yell out, ‘Don’t spew on the carpet! Juliet will kill me – no, her dad will kill me.’ I hustle him into the ensuite and shove him towards the toilet – just in time. I watch him spew and then lead him to the lounge, where he passes out.
Heading back onto the balcony, I freeze when I hear my name. Tom and Sam are leaning on the railing, talking quietly.
‘What if he dies tonight?’ Sam’s saying.
‘He won’t,’ Tom says, and pats him on the arm. ‘He’s still got ages, yeah?’
‘But they don’t really know, do they?’ says Sam, sculling the rest of his drink and setting it down. ‘I mean, they only know how long at most, that’s what Tai said, but the tumour could like explode or something, couldn’t it? And what if we get up in the morning, and he’s dead?’
‘I promise you, mate, he’s not going to die tonight.’
‘I’ve never seen a dead person,’ Sam says, and there’s an edge of panic in his voice. ‘And I don’t think I could handle seeing Tai dead. It just creeps me out.’
‘I’m sure he’s not going to do it on purpose.’ Tom laughs, but Sam doesn’t join in.
‘I’ve never even been to a funeral,’ Sam says, ‘and Tai’s pretty much planning his. Doesn’t that just seem weird to you?’
‘Well, yeah. Of course.’
Breath caught in my throat, I watch as Sam reaches over to grab another beer from the table. He takes a swig, then says, ‘Doesn’t it make you think, Hey, that could’ve been me? How easily could it have been any one of us, you know?’
‘Yeah, I guess. Glad it’s not me, though.’
‘Yeah, me too.’ He sounds as if he feels guilty for admitting that.
I want to go back out there, say, Hey, Sambo, it’s okay. You don’t have to feel guilty for being grateful it’s not you. If this was happening to you I’d be pretty damn happy it wasn’t me.
I don’t want to interrupt them, don’t want to let them know that I’ve been listening, so instead I turn around and head back down the hallway to bed.
Juliet
The next morning, I walk back to our unit feeling seedy and miserable. The effects of the cocktails, of celebrating with the girls, are long gone, and they’ve taken with them the temporary feeling that everything is right with the world. Tai meets me at the door with a cuddle for a greeting, and I hold on to him for a long time.
‘Everything okay?’ he asks gently.
‘Yeah.’ No, actually, I don’t say. And sometimes things are so not okay that it scares the hell out of me.
In the afternoon, Tai’s feeling well enough to walk down to the beach with me, meet the girls there, and drag Gen back to the piercers. I decide to cough up fifty bucks and get my tongue pierced to see what this guy’s about. Lina and Rae are helpfully doing some oh-so-unsubtle pointing to show me which one is him, but they don’t need to. The second he and Gen see each other, they both get this look. I’ll hand it to her, he’s pretty cute, and manages to be all professional while being totally sweet to Gen. As he launches towards me with the needle I look at Gen. I’ve got your back, girl. It’s only after he’s tightened the bar on my tongue stud and given me the after-care talk that he and Gen arrange to meet up later that night.
As Tai and I walk back to our unit, debating what to have for dinner, he looks at me and says, ‘Hang on. Did you just get a needle put through your tongue just so Gen could work on her love life?’
I grin. ‘That’s what friends are for, Tai.’
Tai
I’m feeling a bit lethargic and headachy so we decide on a quiet night in front of the TV with instant noodles and alcohol. Juliet flicks through the channels until she finds a chick flick and then snuggles down, happy. She starts giving me a cynical running commentary on the movie, pretending to be the characters speaking but saying stupid stuff, or laughing at their stupid plot. The Main Guy takes the Lead Girl out to a restaurant, and while Juliet’s saying, ‘Bet she orders a salad,’ Main Guy slips an engagement ring into Lead Girl’s glass. She finds it, they kiss, everyone else in the restaurant claps, and Juliet makes a little pfft noise in disbelief. ‘As if. She’d probably run away and hide in the toilets. Then come out and slap him for asking her to marry him somewhere so public like that. Or not even see the ring and choke on it.’
‘I’d never propose like that,’ I agree.
‘That’s just drunk talk, honey.’ She grins at me.
‘Yeah, like you can talk.’ I grin back. ‘It’s all drunk talk around here tonight.’
She pauses, considers this and nods. ‘Tai? Someone drank all of my drink.’ She pouts.
‘I’ll get you one,’ I offer.
‘Are you trying to get me drunk and have your way with me?’ Juliet smiles.
‘Something kind of like that, yeah,’ I say, going to the fridge to investigate.
‘How would you do it?’ she yells out.
‘Do what?’
‘Propose. You said you’d never do it like that, so how would you do it?’
I pour Red Bull into a champagne glass because nothing else is clean and yell back, ‘The ring in the glass idea was kind of cool.’ I yank the ring off my middle finger and drop it into one of the glasses. Clink. ‘But not in public like that. Somewhere where it was just us. No-one else around to tell us what they thought about it, how they thought it went.’ I’m walking back towards her now carrying the glass. ‘And then I’d get on one knee . . .’ And I do it, drop down onto one knee and hand her the glass. ‘And then I’d ask you. Her. I’d ask her to marry me.’
Juliet’s looking at me like I’m crazy, but she’s smiling, too, eyeing off the ring in the glass I’ve handed her. ‘That’s an improvement on the movie version, but I think your choice of jewellery needs work.’
‘Yeah, well it was impromptu, you know?’ I get up off the floor, sit down again, and she climbs onto my lap, facing me. I kiss her, and she kisses back, just as hard, ripping a button from my shirt as she pulls it off, throwing her own shirt on top of it before I grab her, kiss her again.
�
�Just for the record, Tai,’ she whispers in between kisses, ‘if you ever asked me, I’d say yes.’
Juliet
On our last night I start packing to go home. Or putting stuff in piles, at least. The fridge is empty, apart from a few apples, a pizza box and the champagne, which we still haven’t opened. I abandon packing, grab some glasses, and fill them with bubbly.
When I come out from the kitchen holding the glasses, Tai looks at me intently. I wonder what he sees. I’m barefoot, sunburnt, wearing one of his shirts over my swimmers, and my hair – my blue hair – has gone mad from the salt of the ocean. Hesitantly, I ask, ‘What?’
‘You’re just really beautiful. That’s all.’
As we drink the champagne, we make toasts: to finishing school, to not trashing the place, to two-minute noodles being so damn good. And, eventually, we toast to us, even though we know that ‘us’ won’t last forever, even if we wanted it to.
Eventually it gets dark, and we curl up together in bed. Tai strokes my hair, kisses me, and I sigh. ‘I am so going to miss this.’
‘Me too. It’s so much better than sleeping alone. Or with River in my bed. He farts a lot.’
‘I wish we didn’t have to go back.’
‘Remember we were going to run away, once? What were we – twelve?’
‘Oh yeah. I’d forgotten about that. Will we do it now, instead?’
‘Yeah,’ he says sleepily. ‘You pack the bags and I’ll steal some morphine from the hospital, and then . . .’
• • •
The next morning I wake before he does, and I watch him sleeping.
‘We’re never going to get to do this again, are we, Tai?’ I whisper.
His chest keeps rising and falling, and his eyes stay closed.
‘I used to imagine us, next year, falling asleep together whenever we wanted, like those nights were unlimited or something. But this is the last one, isn’t it?’ I curl into him again, trying to make the moment last.
• • •
But as I now know, nothing lasts, and all too soon we’re back at home as if schoolies never happened.
A few days after our return, I’m at the shops with Mum and notice with horror that they’ve started putting Christmas stuff on the shelves. Normally I’d be excited, but not this year. This year, I don’t want to see it, don’t want to be reminded that the year is almost over.
But while I can pretend not to see the tinsel and crappy plastic Santa lawn ornaments at the shops, I can’t pretend not to see Tai.
There are four days in a row when he stays in bed, only getting up to go to the bathroom. He claims he’s exhausted from schoolies, and I feel like I’m to blame for that. Mia decides to quit her job. She’s been constantly calling and saying she can’t make it, anyway. She tells us there are more important things in life, and we all know what she’s really saying. Tai seems equally guilty and relieved at her announcement. He looks so much weaker all of a sudden, as if everything drains him. I think his pain is worse now. One day I catch him looking at the clock and silently counting the minutes until his next painkiller is due.
The next afternoon Tai struggles to get out of bed, and when he stands up to kiss me he stumbles. I rush to catch him and hit my hip on the sharp corner of his desk. ‘Ouch.’
‘Sorry, girl.’ Tai sits back down on his bed and drops his eyes to the floor.
I sit beside him and rest my head on his shoulder. Underneath the old grey shirt he’s wearing he’s nothing but skin and bone.
‘Juliet? Do you remember what we were like before everything was about painkillers and chemotherapy and hospitals?’
‘Yeah.’
‘I think I’m starting to forget.’
• • •
A week later, Tai is back in hospital. While he’s being poked and prodded, I’m sitting in the waiting room with his parents. Stanley is drinking his seventh coffee of the morning, while Mia stares out the window at the endless grey slabs of concrete buildings across the road. There’s a television bolted to the ceiling in one corner of the room, and though the volume is so low you can barely hear it, I pretend to be interested in it. It’s still better than watching Mia and Stanley – their faces are filled with wrinkles that weren’t there a year ago, and they just look defeated.
Gen arrives at the hospital after lunch, but Tai doesn’t really want any visitors so we go and sit on some steps outside, the quietest place around. There’s only a cleaner smoking nearby. Eventually he pitches the cigarette and heads back inside. Gen reaches out for my hand and holds it tightly.
‘I wish I could go too,’ I say.
‘We can go back inside if you want.’
‘No. Not that.’ I swallow, hard. ‘With Tai. I wish I could die too.’
‘Juliet!’ Gen whispers. Tears start to trickle down her face.
‘Well, I do.’
‘But you can’t, I mean . . .’ She trails off, rubs her face.
‘Sometimes it just gets too hard, Gen. I don’t want to watch him die anymore. Remember in the news, a couple of years ago, that old couple had that suicide pact? Wouldn’t that be easier than this?’ I’m crying now as well.
‘Promise me you won’t ever do anything like that,’ she whispers. ‘You have to promise me, Juliet, you have to – because I can’t lose my best friend, too. Promise.’
I take her other hand, look her in the eyes. Gen’s doing little hiccuppy sobs and her nose is running, face streaked with mascara.
‘I promise.’
Tai
‘Just so you know, Texy, I didn’t used to be like this. I actually used to be happy, once.’
I’m finally home from hospital, curled up in bed, doped up on The Next Best Thing To Morphine, Texy purring on my chest. Mum and Dad have taken Hendrix and River to the beach, maybe because they’re so noisy and want to play, which is the opposite of how I feel right now. My last-chance kitten is good company, the only kind of company I can cope with at the moment. He bats at my face gently.
‘Yeah, I look different, huh?’
I can’t wait until the effects of the chemo wear off a bit because then I won’t feel so listless and ill. At least I’ve got some kick-ass painkillers.
Juliet comes to visit me all the time the first week home. Sometimes I wish she wouldn’t but I don’t know how to tell her that without sounding bitter and mean, so I don’t say anything. At the last appointment the doctor said it was normal to feel like this, like I just want to sleep all the time, like I don’t care about anything. I think Juliet kind of gets the message anyway, because she starts to come less often, and doesn’t stay as long. She’s quieter, too, just sits there drumming her fingers on her jeans in time with the music, or patting Texy, or just lying next to me.
One night, she hands me an invitation to Gen’s eighteenth and looks at me hopefully.
‘No, Juliet. I can’t.’
‘Yes you can, Tai, I know you can. We’ll leave early, okay? And we’ll just sit down at a table or something – you’ll be fine.’ She looks at me, silently pleading.
‘I don’t want to,’ I say, flatly. ‘Please. Stop asking.’ My voice cracks on the please and she looks pained, like I’ve struck her. She leaves not long after that, and when she’s gone, I take a painkiller, head for the shower. My head is throbbing and I want that warmth, that white noise, while I try to wash the pain away. I’m reaching out for the soap when suddenly there’s pain, so much pain, like something in my head’s exploded, and I’m yelling out, ‘Mum! Mum! My head!’ You’re falling, Tai, you’re falling and the pain’s so bad that you can’t breathe, you can’t breathe, maybe this is it, maybe the tumour has finally won and no-one will hear you, maybe no-one can save you this time and oh god the pain oh god please the pain . . .
I don’t pass out though, just lie there on the shower floor, water pounding down around me, holding my head, holding it together. I’m vaguely aware of the door opening, of Mum coming in, shouting at Dad to call an ambulance, turning off th
e water. She manages to get me mostly dry, get my boardies on, and if things were different I’d be embarrassed that she was dressing me like a little kid, but all I can do is lie there, clutching my skull, whimpering that it hurts. The ambos come and when they lift me onto the stretcher it hurts so much I think I scream. I bite down on my lip until I can taste blood and they look at me, worried. They give me oxygen, and then there’s a drip in my arm, something in it which is taking the edge off the pain clawing at my skull, and there’s Mum holding my hand as the ambulance speeds along, and I think she’s crying.
We’re at Emergency then, and they give me an injection, cover me with a starched white sheet and put an ID band on my wrist. They take me for an ultrasound, won’t let me get off the bed, which is probably a good thing because I’m not even sure that I could. Whatever was in that needle was good, it’s helping, and I can breathe, shakily, and think, Not tonight. It’s going to happen, but not tonight. The doctor on duty doesn’t look quite as tired and worried now, even though he admits they need to look into why it happened.
They don’t let me go home.
I can’t bring myself to tell Juliet I’m in hospital again so I ignore her texts, pretend I’m out of credit, because it’s just easier that way. Mum asks me if I want her to let Juliet know what happened but I shake my head no.
It sounds weird, I know, but the thought that I was dying had become background static, something repeated over and over so much that you don’t even hear it anymore, or you hear it but the meaning is lost, has become nonsense from repeating it so many times. At least that’s how it felt until tonight. Now the background noise has quietened, and the truth is screaming at me loud and clear.
Juliet
The doctors say that the chemotherapy went as well as they’d hoped and if you ask him, Tai says he’s fine, but he’s not the kind of fine that I’ve ever known. It’s like the Tai I know, my Tai, is being replaced by someone who looks and sounds familiar, but acts like a complete stranger. Mia tells me that the doctors have said mood swings and lethargy are pretty normal.
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