I bound up to them and they all jump about six feet.
“What are you doing?” Roman snaps.
“Did I fwighten you?” I snigger before shyness stops me. Surprisingly, Pete laughs.
“I’m sorry!” I tell them all. “I couldn’t get away sooner! I had to wait for my mom to leave and then fake a … an illness for my dad.”
“Why?” asks Roman, baffled.
I stare at him. “Why? Because I’m fifteen.”
Gabe laughs. “She can’t just stroll out the house like, ‘Don’t wait up, guys, I’m taking the car!’”
“You’re fifteen?” say Roman incredulously.
“Yeah?”
“You look much older,” he says, in a way that doesn’t feel like a compliment. But fine.
“Right,” Pete says, bored of this chitchat and snapping on a professional-looking flashlight. “Follow me.”
We walk past the swimming pool and through one of the school fields, which is just behind it. It’s seriously creepy. I wouldn’t do this alone, but Roman and Pete lead, with me and Gabe following. Roman doesn’t seem to be able to let the age thing go.
“Did you know she was only fifteen?” he asks Gabriel.
“Yes,” says Gabe, “she’s in the grade below me. The grade that fifteen-year-olds are in. I didn’t think she was a twenty-year-old who couldn’t pass her exams.”
I snicker. Gabe’s so funny; he might even be funnier than Hannah. Oh, Hannah! I haven’t had a second to email her again, something better than Everything will be OK, here’s a stuffed owl with its head on the wrong way. I will do it when I get home, even if I’m dropping with tiredness and it’s five a.m.
We reach the edge of the field and Pete leads us into a dark little wood. He marches through it and we all follow like obedient ducklings.
It comes out into what looks like an industrial estate, and Pete heads down an alleyway toward a big concealed doorway.
Pete fiddles with the lock and carefully pushes open a heavy metal door, and we follow him in. We’re in pitch darkness, but the air feels warm and there’s a weird smell. Also a humming noise. Where is this? I follow Pete closely. It’s so dark in here. I reach out and pinch his sweater gently. I expect him to tell me to get off, but he doesn’t, and Gabe hangs on to me in the same way.
There’s carpet underfoot that’s so rough my sneakers are catching on it and making me trip. We take a few steps forward, then Pete suddenly turns right, and I stumble over the back of his foot. I fall forward, putting my hands out to catch myself, but there’s nothing there and I’m falling and falling into darkness and I don’t land on the floor—I land on a sloping pane of thick glass. My hands slap down on it first, smooth and cold, followed by my head. Hard.
As my forehead smacks against the glass, the most nightmarish thing I’ve ever seen looms at me: cold, pale skin, stone eyes, and rows and rows of teeth.
A shark.
It emerges silently out of the darkness and I think I’m going to die. I scream and scream and my head is throbbing. There’s whooshing in my ears, and I slide down the glass until I’m crouching, wrapping my arms around my head to save myself from those teeth and then …
… nothing.
chapter 25
I open my eyes. I’m lying on the floor. The carpet is so rough it’s like lying on Velcro. It’s snagging my pants, and I notice in a dreamy way that it’s giving me a wedgie.
My back is aching and I feel sick to my stomach, but there’s something soft under my head, and cool hands are cupping my face.
“Lou? Lou?” I feel breath on my cheek; it’s Gabe’s voice. He turns to the others and says in a harder tone, “Call an ambulance.”
“We can’t!” That’s Pete, sounding panicked.
“His dad will lose his job!” Roman is somewhere far above me.
“I don’t care! Call an ambulance!” I’ve never heard Gabriel sound so angry.
“I’m here. I’m…” I’m trying to say, “I’m not dead and please why shark?”
“Oh god, Lou!” breathes Gabe, sounding like his old self again. I feel a weight on my shoulder: his head. I put my hand on his hair. I feel like I should be comforting him, not the other way around.
“Are you in pain?” he asks.
“No,” I lie. To be honest, between the garbage can, the upturned bike, and now this, I am 87 percent pain, but whatever.
“The shark!” I pull myself into a sitting position. My stomach churns. “Was … did…?”
“We’re in the aquarium,” explains Gabriel with a shaky laugh in his voice. The aquarium. Of course.
“You could’ve said!” I say in the general direction of Pete’s voice.
“I wanted it to be a surprise,” he defends himself, sounding uncharacteristically nervous.
I say heavily from the floor, “I was surprised.”
I hear Roman give a tiny laugh, and I get to my feet slowly with Gabe’s help.
“So now what?” I ask a little throatily. Standing up makes me feel like sick times sick, so I lean against a wall.
“Now,” says Pete, his voice disappearing into the darkness, “this!” He turns on the lights in the fish tanks, and the water glows with a bluish light. Small schools of shining fish drift past the glass. It’s the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.
We stand in silence and I find myself reaching for Gabriel’s hand. To my surprise, Roman reaches for mine. It feels nice, like a family. I wonder if Roman and Pete are holding hands too? Best not to ask. We stare in silence until Pete breaks the moment.
“Now, what would you like to swim with?” he says, peering in to read the labels. “Koi carp, tuna fish, or—”
“Swim with the fish?” interrupts Roman. “I thought you said there was an empty tank!”
“Yeah, there was, but now there isn’t.” Pete brushes it off as if it’s not important.
“Sorry, Peter, hate to be dull,” chips in Gabe, “but could we have a few more details on this?”
Pete sighs as if Gabriel is being ridiculously fussy.
“There was an empty tank, but it is EMP. TY. No water in it. So just for tonight we’ve got to swim with a few fish. It’s fine, they’re totally harmless. Shall we try tuna? I had a tuna sandwich for lunch; I feel like it’s one-nil to me already.”
Well, someone’s in a good mood, I think groggily. That may be the first joke I’ve ever heard him make. But … hang on.
“Pete,” I say, “tuna fish are huge and bitey.”
“No they’re not,” he corrects me. We turn toward the tank, and about twenty tuna fish slide past. They’re the most thuggish-looking fish I’ve ever seen in my life.
“Yeah. They are,” say Roman and Gabe in unison.
“Oh, for f—” Pete sighs and runs lightly up a flight of stairs I hadn’t seen in the gloom.
There’s some activity above us, and the top of the tank slides to one side. We watch as one pale foot and leg appear in the water, then another. There’s a moment of calm, then suddenly all the fish race toward them. It’s so quick I yelp with shock.
In a flash, Pete yanks his legs out of the water, but those fish moved so fast, I can’t tell if he got bitten. They look furious, thrashing around at the surface of the water. I can’t be sure, but I think one of them is chewing.
“Pete, man?” Gabe calls quietly upstairs. “You all right?”
No answer.
“You probably ate a close friend for lunch, Pete. They wanted revenge,” I call up.
We wait a moment, sniggering quietly.
“OK, fine.” Pete appears again at the top of the stairs, acting as if that never happened. He bounds downstairs. “Let’s try another tank.”
“After you, man,” Roman says, smirking.
Several nibbles and a couple of harrowing near misses later (seriously, if you’ve got an octopus in a tank, label it; there’s no point being modest), we finally find a tank near the back full of tiny brightly colored fish that seem more scared of u
s than we are of them. We agree that we can only practice the underwater stuff, none of the lifts above water, but these things all need work, and the boys sink to the bottom of the tank and begin.
It is arresting to watch, and that’s not just my concussion talking. The boys float in perfect unison in the glowing blue water with fish drifting past them in bright flashes of color. It’s the most calm and eerie thing I’ve ever seen and I feel a bit in love with all of them at that moment. Yes, even Pete.
I film their whole routine on my phone, and I get the perfect take. At one point an eel swims in front of them! Thankfully, the boys are too absorbed in their swimming to spot it or they would’ve freaked out. I watch the video as they’re getting changed upstairs, and I’m completely absorbed.
I notice I have Wi-Fi, so I upload the video to YouTube and, after a moment’s thought, I send Hannah the link. Maybe it’ll be good for her to see that there’s life outside camp, that there are cool things happening elsewhere. I don’t tag the boys or add any hashtags; let’s keep it secret ’til tryouts. Nothing but bad has come of Debs discovering our secret. I don’t want any more obstacles.
I notice a new email from Han. I can only see the preview, which says, I can’t do this anymore.
Hmm, is that in a dramatic “I’m running away” way, or more of a “time for a new attitude, I must stop being so hard on myself”?
I keep refreshing my email to try to make it open. I’m a little bit anxious; if Hannah’s email is serious, I want to call Mom and ask for advice.
I’m engrossed in my phone and oblivious to everything around me when suddenly Roman grabs me by the arm and shoves me and we’re running, stumbling on the carpet and feeling our way along all the cold glass tanks. I’m stubbing my toes and fingers, banging my head, and I don’t know what’s going on except I know I’m scared.
“Police!” Roman hisses at me, and I feel cold with fear. I’m running away from the police? What has happened to my life?
The boys are running faster than I can keep up, even Gabe. I’m still woozy from banging my head, and I fall a couple of times and scrape my legs, but Roman won’t let me go. He drags me up each time and keeps pulling me. I’m glad, because my head is thumping again and I feel so dizzy—there’s no way I could do this by myself.
Now I hear what we’re running from: heavy footsteps and dogs behind us. Pete suddenly darts left. There’s the sound of a door opening, and he lunges back and grabs my other arm, pulling me, Roman, and Gabriel in behind him. It’s a storeroom, I think. It smells like bleach and I see mops, buckets, and a Henry vacuum just before Pete shuts us in and we lose the faint aquarium light.
We are crammed tightly together. The boys are pressed against me on all sides, and I can smell aftershave, sugary hair product, and a slight smell of sweat. We’re shaking with the effort of trying to breathe quietly. My head is against Roman’s chest, and I can hear his heartbeat. This is the closest I have ever been to a boy.
It’s gone quiet outside and I hold my breath (as if that will help at all). I close my eyes, but this makes me dizzy, and I take a small half step back. I lose my balance, Ro grips my shoulder, and I’m grabbing at Gabe and Pete so as not to fall in a loud clatter of mops and buckets.
All four of us are sliding downward, slowly and gently. It would be funny if we weren’t so scared.
We can’t get caught. We’ll be in so much trouble. I’ll be grounded, no more training, no more friends. Pete’s dad could lose his job.… Please, whoever you are, keep walking.
I can’t hear anything. Just the sound of us breathing. I feel really sick, and the room is starting to spin.
Suddenly there’s a bang as the door is flung open and we all recoil from a blinding flashlight. The pressure in my head gets worse; I can feel my pulse thumping in my neck, and I’m sliding farther, ’til I’m practically on the floor. Roman, Pete, and Gabe all look oddly far away, Pete’s lips move, but I can’t hear what he’s saying. There’s a rushing noise in my ears, and blackness creeps in at the edges of my vision to meet in the middle.
chapter 26
I wake up suddenly with a strange pressure on my chest. I can’t move my arms. There’s a rustling noise when I try. I realize it’s because I’ve been the victim of a brutally hard tucking-in.
Why am I in the hospital?
I turn my head and see Mom. She’s rummaging through her bag and looks like she’s been crying. Lav is standing behind her, unrecognizably serious with faint mascara streaks down her cheeks. She catches my eye, and her eyes widen with surprise. What is going on?
Mom’s head jerks up and she gasps at the sight of me.
“Oh, Lou!” She bends down to the bed and hugs me tightly. “What were you doing?” she breathes into my hair. She’s gripping me hard, angry with relief. I haven’t seen her like this since I was seven and decided to snooze in the garage for a few hours without telling anyone.
Mom doesn’t let go and I’m breathing in her shampoo smell. I’m remembering the aquarium bit by bit.
“Where’s my phone?” I ask stupidly.
“You’re not getting that back in a hurry,” comes a grim voice from the other side of the room. I’ve never heard Dad sound so strict. When I turn my head to look at him, my neck feels stiff and tender.
“I’m sorry I sneaked out.” I can’t keep turning my head to talk to Mom and Dad, so I address Dad and squeeze Mom’s hand. “It wasn’t Laverne’s fault. I just needed to help the boys with their swim training.”
“Was that it?” Mom asks.
“Yes, of course!”
“Of course nothing!” Mom’s temper flares up. “You were found in a broom closet with two older boys and a man who left school last year. You were unconscious and covered in bruises! We had no idea what had happened!”
I touch my face. It feels puffy and hard, and even lifting my hand sends shooting pains down my side.
“Do you want a mirror?” Lav asks.
Dad clears his throat. Lav and Mom look over at him. He obviously doesn’t think this is a good idea.
Lav makes the decision and hands me a little compact mirror from her handbag. I put it up to my face and then angle it down to see my neck and shoulders. The cuts and bruising don’t stop. My face is black and blue. I have a cut lip and strange marks all over me. It looks like I’ve been fighting wild animals.
Shark! That makes me remember the shark, and I shiver.
“Are you OK?” Mom is watching me warily.
“Mom, this is all my fault.”
“None of this is your—”
“No, I mean it really is—I snuck out, I fell off the garbage can,” I say, pointing at my shoulder. “Then I tripped over a bike in the back yard, then at the aquarium I fell over and head-butted one of the tanks. I know I look like a horror film, but no one hurt me. This is all incredible clumsiness.”
Lav is watching me, her mouth twitching as she fights a grin.
Mom still looks grim.
“Blame an upside-down bike if you want to blame someone.”
Mom shoots a look at Dad, who protests. “How did this become my fault?”
“Are the boys in trouble?” I ask.
“Yes,” the three of them reply in unison.
“Can I have my phone?”
“No.”
“But…”
“NO.”
“I need to speak to Roman, Gabe, and Pete! I’m coaching them for Britain’s Hidden Talent, and the tryouts are days away.…” I trail off because Dad is shaking his head, eyes closed.
“No, Lou, there’ll be no Britain’s Hidden … Thing. The boys will be lucky if they’re not expelled, or worse.”
Cold and hot runs through me. I feel weak, like the last bit of hope just leaked away. This isn’t going to be all right, is it? Everything’s ruined.
chapter 27
Lou, hon, are you OK? We heard you got ARRESTED with Ro Garwood and Pete Denners, that can’t be true, is it?!! Want to meet up after swimming train
ing this week? All the girls were saying that we should because we haven’t seen you in AAAGES!
Nic xx
Hi Lou, I just wanted to get in touch to see if you’re OK. Call me if you’d like to talk, I can’t imagine how you’re feeling but I can listen.
Cammie says hi.
Melia x
Girls, this is Lou’s mom. I have her phone until further notice.
The hospital discharges me first thing next morning, and a young policewoman comes to our house later to drink coffee and point a skeptical face at me. Annoying. Mom gets out the china we only use at Christmas. It’s strange to see it on duty in October.
No one will listen to me and I’m starting to get really scared on the boys’ behalf. I show the policewoman the garbage can and the upturned bike, like the crappiest guided tour ever.
I’m still not allowed to have my phone back. I totally forget about Hannah’s unread email because I have so many different problems—worrying if the boys got expelled or, worse, if the police are involved. Anytime I try to Google the local news on our home computer, Mom is on me like a tuna fish on Pete’s leg. Plus I have these big painkillers to help me sleep and they leave me groggy until the afternoon, so my days drift by in a frustrating blur.
I have to stay home from school for a couple of weeks to get over the concussion and “let things blow over,” as Mom says. Saturday is the last public tryout. The day passes and despite my begging, there’s no way I’m allowed to go.
Mom and Dad won’t even let me leave the house. They only manage to stop me by telling me if I go and see the boys, they’ll be in even more trouble, and then that really will be my fault. So I go back to bed and I cry until I fall asleep and I wake up with a face like a blister.
I wonder if the boys go to the tryouts without me. I bet they do. I have the most unreasonable parents in the world. Laverne reports back that:
a) People are shamelessly nosy and she’s told them all to eff off, especially Cammie, who says she’s “distrawn” (not even a word).
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