Together Apart

by Natalie K. Martin

  Anyway, back to the important stuff. Last night was brilliant! I met Richard in town, and we went to see a film. I can’t remember which one – it was some boring action film – but it doesn’t matter. I didn’t get to see much of it since we were too busy kissing. I still can’t believe I’m going out with him. He’s just so gorgeous and so cool, and he has the cutest smile I’ve ever seen. It’s ridiculous. And his hair is so soft, and it flops into his eyes all the time. It makes me breathless just thinking about it.

  His parents weren’t home when we got back to his. I don’t think they’re around much from what he told me. Lucky him. Last week, everything happened in a bit of a haze. I was so overwhelmed that he’d even shown an interest in me – not to mention a bit stoned. This time we were completely alone and sober. He has a huge collection of CDs, and he put one on. I don’t know who it was, but it was soft and moody and made everything feel so intimate. We spent all afternoon in his bed.

  We didn’t have sex, obviously. We’ve only been together for a week. But we fooled around. I thought about tossing him off, but I didn’t. I’ve never done it before, and I didn’t want to look like an idiot by getting it wrong, but when I left to come home, I regretted being so chicken. I really, really like him, and I’m certain he likes me just as much. He didn’t even try to persuade me to have sex with him. I mean, hello? He’s obviously really sensitive and mature because I’d bet money that most boys would have tried their luck with a girl in their bed like that. I know he respects me.

  So, massive decision: I’m going to have sex with him. I’ve decided he’s The One. I don’t know when, seeing as I’m being held prisoner by that prick Peter, but I am going to do it.

  A ball of jealousy tightened in Adam’s chest as he looked at the picture of Sarah and, presumably, Richard, wedged into the spine of the diary like a bookmark.

  She wasn’t at all what he’d imagined her to look like at fourteen. She was chubby, her curly hair was dyed dark red and her piercing amber eyes were rimmed with black eyeliner so thick she might as well have painted her eyes shut. But her smile seemed to leap off the photograph towards him. It was the same smile that he’d fallen in love with.

  Richard looked like a Kurt Cobain try-hard, all moody and anguished-looking with scruffy shoulder-length hair. It was obvious from the way Sarah was smiling at him in the picture just how much she adored him. He was her first love. Adam wished it could have been him. She probably wouldn’t have looked twice at him back then anyway. As a teenager, he was always the boy the girls liked as a friend but never wanted to get with. He lagged well behind his mates until, apparently overnight, he grew four inches and his skin cleared. Suddenly, he’d had a queue of girls asking him out.

  Sarah had been enraged with Peter for reading her diary. There was no doubt he’d be in line for a severe bollocking if she ever found out that he’d done the same, but he was getting closer to finding out the truth. He could feel it.

  16.

  Adam’s eyes flicked from Jenny to Carl and back again. He’d never seen her look so sheepish before.

  ‘Tell me you’re joking.’ Carl looked at Jenny with his eyebrows pulled tightly together. ‘For fuck sake, Jenny.’

  Adam glanced sideways at Matt who gave a barely imperceptible shake of his head that said, Don’t get involved. Adam didn’t intend to. He looked down at his cards. Whose hand was it? They were barely an hour into their poker game, but it had stalled.

  ‘I knew you’d react like this.’ Jenny leaned back in her chair.

  ‘Well, what else did you expect? He will treat you like shit,’ Carl said slowly, like he was talking to a child.

  ‘I’m a big girl. I can deal with it.’

  ‘Right.’ Carl chucked his cards on the table. ‘And when he screws you over and you get hurt, then what? Because that is what will happen. It’s what he does.’

  Jenny shook her head. ‘You don’t know that.’

  ‘He’s my brother. I know him back to front.’ Carl scowled.

  Adam could see Carl’s dilemma. Jenny was his best friend; Nick was his brother. It put Carl in an awkward position, and even though it had been painstakingly obvious on their night out that something would happen between them, nobody had expected Jenny to turn up tonight and say that she and Nick were actually seeing each other.

  ‘But you don’t know what he’s like with me, and he respects that we’re best mates. He’s not going to jeopardise that.’

  Carl gave an exasperated sigh and stood up. ‘I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Do what you want, but don’t come crying to me when he cheats on you, or forgets you even exist.’

  Jenny watched Carl storm into the kitchen and groaned with frustration.

  Matt whistled. ‘You can’t blame him, Jen.’

  ‘It’s not like I’m doing this on purpose. I don’t want to argue with him; he’s like a brother to me.’

  ‘Really?’ Adam pulled a face. ‘Because Nick is Carl’s brother. So that would be like incest.’

  Jenny rolled her eyes. ‘You know what I mean. This isn’t some stupid fling.’

  ‘He’s just being protective,’ Matt said. ‘It’s understandable. We all know what Nick’s like, and even if that weren’t the case, he’s a soldier. He’s hardly ever here. Have you thought about how you’ll cope being an army girlfriend?’

  ‘No, because I’m trying not to doom it all before it’s even started. Will you talk to Carl?’

  ‘I’m not getting involved,’ Matt replied, holding up his hands as he stood up.

  Jenny raised an eyebrow. ‘Seriously?’

  ‘Yes, seriously. This is family stuff. I’m steering well clear.’

  Matt left the two of them at the table, and Adam looked anywhere but at Jenny. She was one of his best friends, and he wanted her to be happy, but the last thing he wanted, or needed, was to get involved in a spat between Jenny and Carl. Both were stubborn and both liked to have the final say. Jenny smiled at him.

  He shook his head. ‘Before you ask, the answer’s no.’

  ‘We’re meant to be best mates.’

  ‘Don’t even try and pull that one. Matt’s right, Jen. This is family stuff.’

  ‘Yeah, but you can get through to Carl.’

  Adam looked away, shaking his head again. Jenny moved until her face was in front of his.

  ‘Please?’ He looked into her eyes and felt his resolve slipping away. ‘Please, Adam. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. I really like him.’

  How did she do that? She was usually so assertive, borderline aggressive even, but this was in complete contrast to the side she showed to the world. The only other time she’d asked him for help was after her mum died.

  ‘Fine. I’ll speak to him.’ He sighed as Jenny threw her arms around his neck. ‘But I’m not making any promises, and I’m not getting involved any more than that.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  He couldn’t see her smile, but he heard it. He remembered what she’d said weeks ago. They were best mates, and they always looked out for each other. It was time for him to return the favour.

  After Jenny and Carl’s argument, poker night was a non-starter, and Adam went straight back home, eager to catch up on the latest instalment of Sarah’s teenage rebellion. He looked down at the diary, covered with doodles of hearts and stars, song lyrics and stickers. Sarah was adamant about her relationship with Richard, just the same as Jenny was about hers with Nick. Both had the potential to destabilise relationships around them – Jenny’s with Carl and Sarah’s with her family. Both of them were headstrong, and maybe that’s why Jenny had warmed to Sarah in a way she hadn’t with his other exes. Despite their outward differences in terms of personality, they were probably more similar than either of them thought.

  3 November 1998

  I hate Peter. I absolutely hate him. I’ve been grounded for
two weeks now, and I still have no idea when it will end. I haven’t been allowed to go anywhere except school. I haven’t even been able to go to City Hall on the way home, so I haven’t seen Richard, and to make it even worse, I’ve been banned from using the phone, so I can’t call him. He probably thinks I’m not interested anymore. I asked Hannah to tell him I was grounded, so hopefully he will have got the message, but if he ends up dumping me because of this, it’ll be all Peter’s fault and I’ll never forgive him.

  6 November 1998

  I still don’t know when I’ll be allowed back out. It’s like he’s trying to keep me hostage, and I’m so over it. He even times how long it takes for me to get home from school, so I’m expected to be back by 4.30, do my homework and then what? Watch TV? Go to sleep? I’m so bored that I’ve worked my way through my entire film collection, and I’ve watched The Craft about a billion times already. I’ve literally never been so bored in my entire life – it’s driving me crazy!

  25 November 1998

  This really is taking the piss now. It’s been three weeks. Talk about overreacting! I’ve decided enough is enough. I used the last bit of my pocket money, which has been stopped while I’m grounded, to call Richard from the payphone. It was so good to hear his voice, but I couldn’t speak to him for very long. I only managed to get out of the house in the first place because we needed some milk. I told Richard I wanted to see him. Peter can go to hell. What’s the worst he can do anyway? He’s not my dad, and he never will be. I don’t have to listen to anything he says. I’ve played by the rules and waited for him to get over himself, but he’s taken it way too far. He’s going to see I’m not some stupid little girl he can boss around.

  26 November 1998, 3.50 p.m.

  Claire was less than impressed when I left her in town to come to City Hall after school. She hates Peter too, but she never stands up to him. She just lets him moan at her and never reacts. She says it’s better to be that way, and I shouldn’t let him see that he’s getting to me, but it’s easy for her to say. She’s not the one who’s been grounded for three weeks for no bloody reason. Everyone seems to have forgotten that he was the one in the wrong. He had no right to read my diary. So what if I lied about staying at Hannah’s? So what if I went to a club and had a bit of a smoke? It’s not like I do it all the time – it was only once! Whatever, I just don’t care anymore. Richard means too much for me to lose him.

  I know it’s crazy because we haven’t been together for very long, but I’m convinced he’s The One. I’m certain of it. I’ve always held back when it comes to boys, instead of throwing myself at randoms until now, but I’ve finally found the one for me. I think about him all the time. I even dream about him. All I want is to be with him, and I’m not going to let anyone stop me. Especially not Peter.

  I hope Richard gets here soon. Now that it’s getting colder, people aren’t hanging around for too long, so there’s only me, Frank and Rachel here. Out of everyone, they’re the only ones I don’t really get on with. Rachel hates me because I’m going out with Richard, and he only ever had eyes for her until now, and Frank is like her lapdog, so he stays away from me out of loyalty to her. Still, it’s better than sitting alone on these cold, stone steps.

  26 November 1998, 8.30 p.m.

  Surprise, surprise. I’m grounded again. I’d like to know how that works exactly, since I’m already grounded in the first place. Peter was beyond angry that I’d stayed out after school. He reckons I need to be disciplined. I nearly laughed in his face when he said that. If he even so much as thinks about trying to discipline me, he’ll regret it. I got a wicked buzz of satisfaction when I saw the look on his face as I walked in the door. Claire said she covered for me and told him I had drama club after school, which is bloody hilarious, considering that I haven’t been in drama club since Year 7. The stack of favours she can call in from me is growing by the day.

  After he’d finished bleating on at me, Mum came up to my room and asked why I always had to be so difficult with him. All he wants is for us to be a happy family, apparently. Ugh. I actually had to remind her that I’d never lashed out until he’d read my diary, even though I’ve never liked him, and he never does anything for us the way that Dad did. She said I needed to give him a chance and how he’s really not that bad. She said I was overreacting about the whole thing, but I know full well that if it had happened to her, she’d have gone mental. Just because I’m fourteen doesn’t make my feelings or privacy any less important.

  I can’t even speak to her anymore. We used to be so close until she met Peter. After Dad died, she made an effort to make sure we had time together. Saturday would always be our day, and she would take me and Claire to the cinema, ice skating or shopping. It was fun. But then Peter came along, and she dropped us like hot potatoes.

  It’s not even like he makes her happy. She seems so miserable all the time, and I’m sure she’s becoming an alcoholic or something. She’s never totally drunk, but I’m not stupid. She gets all shaky and fidgety and snappy, but as soon as she starts cooking dinner, her mood totally changes. I’ve noticed that the bottle of red wine in the cupboard has been replaced at least three times in the last few days. Peter never makes out like he knows about it, but it would be hard for him not to have noticed. He’s probably making it his mission to ‘save’ her. She was never like this when Dad was alive.

  I miss him so much. Everything was so much better when he was here. Why did he have to go and die? He wouldn’t have grounded me for this. I probably wouldn’t have even had to lie about going to Corp in the first place. He was so laid-back, I bet he wouldn’t be trying to tell me what to do all the time and grounding me just for doing normal teenage stuff. He would have liked Richard – I know he would. And that’s why I’m going to do the complete opposite of everything Peter tells me to.

  Claire says I’m crazy. She doesn’t think any boy is good enough for her to fall out with her family over, but what does she know? She goes chasing after boys, but she never actually does anything with them. That’s why, out of all the girls she hangs around with, no one could ever call her a slag. She won’t pop her cherry with just anyone, but if she had a boyfriend like Richard and did the things we did last week, she would totally understand. She would get what it’s like to have a gaping hole in your heart because you can’t be with the one you love.

  Yes, that’s right. I love him. I’m going to go to his place on Tuesday afternoon. I can’t see him this weekend because he’s going to visit his grandparents in Cumbria, so Tuesday it is. I’ve got double maths for my last lesson, but I’m going to skip it, and he said he’ll skip his too. His parents will be out, and I’m going to sleep with him. I can’t see the point in hanging around. I know he’s perfect for me.

  1 December 1998

  Only one day left! Tomorrow will be my last day as a virgin. I’m so nervous! I wonder what it will feel like. These are the times when I wish I was closer to Claire so I could speak to her about it.

  I could always talk to Hannah, I suppose, but we’re not as close as we used to be, and so far, she’s refused to say if she’s slept with Daniel. We’re supposed to be best friends, but she’s going around acting like she’s the only person in the world to ever have a boyfriend. Like it’s all so sacred and special that she couldn’t possibly share anything with me. So I’ll just have to wait until tomorrow and find out for myself.

  I’m scared!

  17.

  26 October

  So, I met up with Claire earlier and told her everything – even the thing I’ve been too scared to write down in case I jinx myself. Experience has taught me there’s no point in hiding anything from her. I didn’t realise how much I’d missed her, and right now I feel like I can take on anything. It’s funny. When I speak to her on the phone, I feel guilty for what I put her through and the memories of that night overpower me. But when I actually see her, it’s totally different. As soon as sh
e hugged me, it was like a weight had been lifted.

  Of course, she’s still the same old Claire – she always thinks she knows best. She still thinks I need to tell Adam everything. She said he deserves to know the truth, and she was majorly pissed off when she realised that he doesn’t know anything about her. She just said, ‘He doesn’t know about me, does he?’ It was a rhetorical question. She knew the answer. What could I say to that? I felt awful. How could I tell my twin sister that I’ve denied her very existence for such a long time? The only consolation was that she knew why I did it. She’s the only person who knows what happened. It would have been awkward for the both of us because even though we argue, she’d never betray my trust. She would have protected me, and to do that, she would have had to lie to Adam. He would have been curious about why we hardly see each other. Even her busy flight attendant lifestyle can’t explain why we’re not as close as twins should be.

  She was raging with me. I could see the fire in her eyes, but she didn’t flip out. She just pleaded with me to talk to him. I wish to God that I could, and sometimes I do wonder if I’ve over-dramatised the whole thing. But then as soon as I think that, the guilt comes pouring down. I can’t be flippant about it. That would make me a monster, and I really don’t want to believe I’m one of those.