His shuddered as his mum put her hand on his back in comfort and his whole body shook with tearless sobs.
Somehow I came unstuck, moving through the thick fog of unreality toward him. He looked up as if he sensed me and stared at me with a wild, frightened gaze that made me halt. And then he pushed up, jerking his mother’s hand off him, and he strode away.
Soon he was just a blur, walking away in the distance being chased by another blur, and it wasn’t until I felt arms around me and Vicki’s voice saying she was sorry in my ear that I realized I was crying and she was comforting me.
THE FRAGILE ORDINARYSAMANTHA YOUNG
29
He fell into Midnight’s dark embrace,
While I could do nothing to stop it.
I hope Midnight leads to a better place,
A heaven lush, sweet, peaceful and sunlit.
—CC
The turnout at Stevie’s funeral surprised me.
When a child died it was customary for the headteachers to arrange for the school to be closed so classmates and teachers could attend the funeral. Stevie’s funeral fell on a school holiday, so there was no need to formally organize anything or even to discuss it. Stevie’s closest friends were all in attendance, including Jimmy, Forrester and Alana. Where Jimmy and Alana looked uncomfortable being there, Forrester openly cried.
There were a few other classmates, but the only teacher in attendance was Vicki’s dad. When I asked him why he was the only teacher to represent the school, he didn’t answer me.
The cynic in me wondered if it was so the school could distance itself from the circumstances of Stevie’s death. His drug overdose hadn’t happened on school grounds, and as long as they kept their distance from it they could say that it was a singular case and that drugs were not a problem at Blair Lochrie. Maybe? Was his death even going to matter to them, or had it been swept under the rug to protect the school’s reputation and its ranking? Was that what mattered now? Statistics and rank protected at all costs over the welfare of the kids that walked through their bloody door?
Maybe not. Maybe Stevie just hadn’t made an impact on any of the other teachers.
But I was angry.
And not really at them. Because I should have said something. If I’d spoken up about Stevie, they might have been able to help him.
So I was angry with myself.
I was angry for the people who had been destroyed by stupid mistakes.
My gaze drifted over Carole and Kieran. Standing next to them was an older version of Stevie and very close at his side was, what I had discerned almost immediately, a plainclothes police officer. The man had to be Stevie’s father and, although he didn’t cry, there was a deep pain etched into his features that made my chest shudder as I tried to breathe out.
It was unbearable even looking at Carole and Kieran. She was frail and sallow-skinned, a black scarf wrapped around her head, and she was clinging to Tobias’s mum for dear life as she cried a continual flow of silent tears. Kieran clung to her hip, his face red and crumpled as he sobbed against her, watching his brother’s coffin as it was lowered into the ground.
The thought that Stevie was in there, gone forever, was hard to process, and as I stared across the grave site at my boyfriend, I wondered if that was how Tobias was feeling. Because I couldn’t know for sure. He wouldn’t talk to me.
It was mid-February and we were on a midterm break from school for the week. Tobias had ignored my calls and texts, so I’d tried going around to his house and his mum had said he was out with the boys. I’d asked Lena how he was doing, and she’d said he wasn’t good.
Still...he wouldn’t talk to me.
His rejection made me want to retreat into my bedroom and hide with my books like I had done before he blew into my life on a tornado of change. Staring at his stone-like expression as he, Stevie’s dad, Jimmy and Forrester helped lower the coffin into the ground, I felt a fear building in my chest. Panic.
I should have told someone about Stevie. Someone who could have done something. An adult. Teachers, his mother, police, someone! But I’d been afraid of getting Stevie in trouble...and wasn’t that just the most horrific, ironic piece of crap you’d ever heard?
Tears spilled down my cheeks and I felt Vicki squeeze my hand in hers. She’d been my support this last week, letting me grieve, letting me vent my fears over Tobias.
He regretted choosing me.
The thought turned me to ice, but I couldn’t stop repeating it in my head, over and over. Why else was Tobias avoiding me? He wasn’t avoiding anyone else. He’d chosen me over Stevie, leaving Stevie to that world, and it had killed him.
Tobias regretted choosing me.
Could I blame him?
I thought if we could just talk about it, we’d get through it, but it was getting him to stand still long enough with me to discuss it that was the issue. Months ago I wouldn’t have been brave enough to force a confrontation. I would have turned tail and locked myself in my room and found a book that made me feel better—I’d choose fantasy over reality any day. Yet, Tobias had come along and changed that for me and, as much as my instinct was to hide, I couldn’t if it meant losing him.
Hadn’t we lost too much already?
God, he’d lost so much already. The image of Tobias laying his father to rest less than a year ago made me cry harder for him. Then that image was replaced with the memory of Stevie smiling at me in gratitude when I gave him his scarf, hat and gloves. That dissolved into the memory of him hugging me tight in the corridor the day Tobias hurt my feelings. And the memory of him looking at me with such pain in his eyes and telling me he was sorry.
We should have gone after him.
Now it was too late.
I’d never get the chance to make it right. Neither would he. Or Tobias.
Gone.
He was gone.
Those three words just didn’t make sense. It didn’t seem possible that I would never see him walk through the school halls, or wink at a pretty girl, or laugh by the pool table. He’d never get the chance to find his way out of the mess his life had become. He’d never be able to protect Kieran, who would have no one when his mum died.
The pain for them all was too much, and I shook as I tried to contain the feeling that was desperate to burst out of me. Vicki’s arms banded around my chest as she held me to her. I shuddered so hard against her, she trembled trying to hold on to me.
“Shh,” she whispered, sniffling, and I realized she was crying for me.
But I wasn’t crying for me.
I was crying for all the days—just ordinary simple days with his family—that were lost to Stevie. Lost to them all. It sounds silly to say I was shocked by the revelation of loss, because I had read about characters dying in books, seen them die on film, heard about real people dying all the time on the news.
It was different when it was someone you had known, though. Talked to. Laughed with. Been angry at. Cursed. Hurt for. Someone who was flesh and blood and as real as myself. The reality of it was hard to wrap my mind around. My emotions warred between not feeling like it was real and feeling like it was a nightmare come to life.
Life was temporary.
That realization had never truly taken hold of me until that moment.
Life was temporary, and for most of my life I’d shied away from living it, preferring the company of fictional characters to real people.
Well, no more.
I gained control over the inner keening, breathing slowly in and out until Vicki’s hold on me loosened. Looking up from the hole in the ground to Tobias’s face, I felt myself tense with resolution. No more. Tobias and I would lose no more.
As if he heard my thoughts, his gaze jerked up from the grave to find me. His eyes seemed to burn into me, filled with so much turmoil I wanted to reach out to him.
&n
bsp; And I would.
* * *
“Tobias!” I ran after him as he stalked away from the cemetery.
After the minister had laid Stevie to his final resting place, I’d watched as Stevie’s dad hugged Kieran tight and said something to Carole that made her crumple against Lena. When he’d tried to reach for her she’d flinched away and Lena had guided her from the scene while the police officer had urged Stevie’s dad away.
Kieran had clung to his dad, screaming, and breaking everyone’s heart and I’d watched as Tobias had just stared down at the scene, at Kieran, in horror, until Lena had returned to lift the squalling boy into her arms.
Tobias had turned in the opposite direction and started to hurry away.
This time I wasn’t letting him.
“Go back, Comet!” he yelled over his shoulder.
“No!” I stumbled up the hill after him. “Talk to me.”
“Look!” He spun around, glaring at me with tears in his eyes. He exhaled slowly and continued more calmly, “I just need some space right now. Okay? We’ll talk later. But not right now. God, Comet, just give me that.”
I bit my lip, unsure what was the best thing to do. If I pushed him harder, I’d maybe push him away for good. “Okay.”
Relief made his shoulders relax, and he gave me a brittle nod before he turned around and walked away.
* * *
Despite my numerous attempts to call him, Tobias didn’t answer. I received one text.
Tobias: I asked 4 space.
Although it hurt I decided to let it go and let him have his space over the midterm break. Once we’d returned, however, I was determined to get him to talk to me again. I couldn’t help feeling that if he hadn’t pushed me away, we’d both have had an easier time dealing with Stevie’s death.
I missed Tobias.
I felt like he’d been taken away, too.
The Monday of our return, Tobias didn’t even look at me when he walked into Spanish first period. An ugly feeling churned in my stomach the entire class, and I tried to tell myself everything would be okay. That was, until he stayed behind to ask Señora Cooper something, and I had no choice but to leave the class without talking to him. Was that deliberate on his part? Or did he really have something to ask her?
By the time English came around for fourth period, I’d worked myself into a jittery mess. I had a strategy to break the ice between us and I really hoped it worked.
He was there before I was, staring straight ahead with this cold expression that warned people not to approach him. I shot a look at Vicki and Steph who were already seated, and they gave me sympathetic smiles. They knew I planned to use this class to get him to talk to me if I could.
“Hey,” I said as I took my seat next to him.
He gave me a nod of his chin without looking at me, and I tried to batten down the anger that threatened to rise inside me.
We were twenty minutes into class when Mr. Stone left the room to collect some mock exam papers he’d forgotten in the English office. As the noise level rose around us, I slipped the bit of paper I’d been holding on to all day and placed it in front of Tobias. He frowned but opened it up to reveal a poster for Pan. They were hosting an evening event in a month’s time called Youth of Today and were inviting under eighteens to recite their poetry. “What am I looking at?”
Ignoring his snappish tone, I explained, “I’m going to do it, Tobias. I’m finally going to get up on that stage and I’d really like you to be there.”
In my head it had seemed like a great icebreaker. It was something he knew I was nervous and afraid of, and I thought it would make him feel good to know that he had helped me get to the point where I wanted to overcome my fears. Be brave. Moreover, the poem I had chosen to read was one I’d written specifically for him.
Yet the way his expression darkened and the cutting look he shot me made me realize Tobias didn’t think this was the greatest icebreaker at all. “Are you kidding me?”
I shrugged, blushing, because I didn’t understand what I’d done wrong.
“Stevie’s dead and you want to talk about your freaking poetry café? Are you that self-centered? Do you not care?”
Stunned by his reaction, by his accusation, I could only stare at him, struggling to find a reply.
He squeezed his eyes closed as if he was in pain, and when he looked at me I knew what was coming before he’d even opened his mouth. “I can’t do this with you right now. I need a break. I think we should break up.”
THE FRAGILE ORDINARYSAMANTHA YOUNG
30
I’m not your Juliet, you’re not my Romeo,
I won’t let our love end in drama and woe.
—CC
If anyone asked me how I got through the rest of that class I wouldn’t be able to tell them. I had no idea.
All I felt was pain. I remember that much.
Tobias left as soon as the bell rang, while I sat there, stunned. My muscles seemed to hurt when I moved as I forced myself to get up and put my work into my bag. To put my bag over my shoulder and make my feet walk out of the door.
Then Vicki and Steph caught up with me.
“What happened?” Vicki said. “Comet, what’s going on?”
My lips felt numb. I bit them, checking they were still there. They were. So I moved them. “He broke up with me.”
As soon as the words were out it felt like my chest was going to cave in, like the words had been inside me, holding me up, and as soon as they were out pieces of me just started to collapse. Panic suffused me, because I did not want the added humiliation of breaking down in public.
“I have to go,” I spoke over Vicki and Steph, who were surrounding me in concern. “I’m going home.”
“Comet, wait—”
“I’m going home.” And I just started to run.
I didn’t remember the journey to the house. I just knew suddenly my front door was there and beyond it was a place to hide. As soon as I slammed inside I dived for my bedroom, but I was barely in it when I heard my dad call my name. Suddenly he was walking into my room, frowning at me.
“What are you doing home?”
And it was in front of him of all people that I finally fell to pieces, the sob bursting out of me before I could stop it.
It was followed by another and another as my knees gave out.
A strong arm encircled me. “Comet, what happened?” my dad asked, sounding scared, and I realized it was his strong arm around me and he was sitting on the floor with me.
Instead of answering I fell against him and let the shattered shards inside of me rattle with my cries. I’d never felt anything like it.
Tobias was gone from me.
He didn’t want me anymore.
He didn’t love me.
How could he not love me anymore?
“Comet, you’re really scaring me.”
I tried to find the words to explain but I was afraid of his reaction. The fear of him making this into some petty high school drama stalled me. It was more than that. Tobias and I hadn’t felt like puppy love or a first crush.
He was the first person I’d ever truly loved who had loved me back without question.
Until now.
“Tobias...he broke up with me,” I whispered through my tears.
My dad’s arm tightened around me. “I am so sorry. I know how much you love him. Do you want to tell me what happened?”
I shook my head. If I did that, said it all out loud, I was afraid I’d start to believe Tobias had every reason to dump me.
* * *
My dad did something cool for me and called the school to tell them I was sick.
I stayed “sick” for four more days.
Ignoring calls from Steph and Vicki, I even refused to come to the door when they turned up at t
he house. Just last week the thought of missing a lit mag team meeting would have made me panic. Now I couldn’t bring myself to care about it.
Instead I locked myself in my bedroom and I read.
I read book after book, losing myself in the world of make-believe, where extraordinary happily ever after endings happened one after the other. Yet...
The HEAs didn’t do for me what they used to. Not one of them gave me giddy butterflies the way that a kiss from Tobias did. Not one of them comforted me the way his addictive hugs did. None of them made me feel angry or sad or safe or excited the way he did. The emotions I went through when reading a good book, I discovered, were merely a muted version of what my emotions could be. I’d never known more color or been more awake than when I’d started living in the real world with Tobias.
And I resented the hell out of him for it.
I hated him!
I loathed him!
I wished he’d get on a plane and fly back to bloody North Carolina!
But I didn’t.
Not really.
Because I loved him.
Curled up in bed I found myself sobbing hysterically at an ensemble flick I was watching on Netflix. Later, weeks down the line, I’d look back on that moment in horror, realizing just how low I’d been brought.
Crumpled tissues lay scattered across my duvet along with books, cookies and empty packets of crisps. I was not a pretty sight but I couldn’t seem to care. Even when my dad walked into the room and stared at me in disbelief. I paused the film, wiping my nose with the back of my hand. “What is it?”
Dad’s gaze traveled all over my messy room as he stepped over books and clothes, trying to put his feet on empty floor space. “I was just wondering when you were thinking about going back to school.”
The Fragile Ordinary Page 29