Her focus is fixed on me.
‘Lion’s just over there.’ I point, but she doesn’t follow my gesture.
Her chest lifts in a heaving breath. ‘Please stay away from my daughter.’
I say nothing.
Her hands wring together in a more desperate version of Callie’s nervous habit. ‘Do you hear me?’
‘I heard you.’
Her lips curve. A hopeful smile. ‘Good.’
The anger that’s been simmering in my gut bubbles up my throat. I am so sick of being judged by people in this town who think they’re special because they live in a big house and drive a nice car. And I’m not going to take it from this woman—especially when it’s her precious football star son who’s responsible for this entire mess.
‘I heard you,’ I repeat quietly. ‘But who Callie spends her time with is up to her.’
She’s already taken two steps towards the door. But at my words, she whirls back so fast the sunglasses slip, revealing red-rimmed eyes. Her mouth twists and she gnaws on her lower lip. ‘Do you want money?’
I shake my head. ‘You can’t buy me off. I like Callie and she likes me.’
I think. I hope.
Mrs Jones shakes her head. ‘You can’t do this. Please.’
‘Why?’
‘My daughter can’t afford to spend time with a criminal.’ She says it looking at one of the cupboards, so softly I’m not even sure the words are intended for me.
I fold my arms and lean back against the bench as though my heart isn’t pumping. ‘Criminal?’
‘You.’
‘You don’t know anything about me.’
Her eyes flick up from my faded jeans to my unshaven jaw and her nose wrinkles. ‘I know you’re a no-hoper without a future.’
‘Callie doesn’t seem to think so.’
‘For now. We all go through a bad-boy phase, but she’ll work out not to throw her life away on a bit of chemistry.’ With each word, she takes a step closer until her shaking finger pokes into my chest for emphasis. ‘I know what happened to the Chapman boy.’
‘Really?’
She nods.
‘The one your son put in hospital?’
She reels back. I can’t tell if she didn’t know or just didn’t expect me to come out and say it.
‘Sean hit him, not me.’
‘No.’
‘And do you know why Sean was out there?’ I don’t wait for her to answer. ‘He and his mates cornered my sister. If I hadn’t come to her defence who knows what might have happened.’
‘No. You’re the one.’
‘And Callie saw the whole thing. She’s going to tell.’
Mrs Jones paces the surgery floor. Near the door, she picks up a stainless-steel bowl from the bench, then replaces it with a clatter. ‘Sean wouldn’t do that.’
‘He did,’ I say steadily.
For a second her head bows but then she’s pacing again. ‘It doesn’t matter anyway, what actually happened. Sean has his whole life ahead of him. He made a mistake. But one punch can’t ruin everything. He never meant to hurt anyone. Callie knows that. She’ll be loyal to her family and protect her brother.’
‘You’re sure about that?’
A jerky nod. ‘She’ll do the right thing.’
‘I think so too,’ I say.
But she goes on as though I haven’t spoken. ‘As long as you stay away from her and she from you.’
I put more confidence than I feel into my tone. ‘Good luck with that.’
She whirls away but not before I see the tears streaking her cheeks. Opening the door so hard it hits the wall, she flees.
As I stare at the door, debating whether I should go after her, Scarlett appears, a triumphant smile on her face. ‘Got it.’
I give up all thoughts of pursuit. It’d only make things worse. ‘You heard that woman?’
I’m embarrassed that my sister heard the things Callie’s mum said. Worse, I’m terrified that she’s right, and Callie will work out just how much of a loser I am.
Oblivious to my heated cheeks, Scarlett’s smile widens. ‘Better.’ She waves Javier’s phone. ‘I recorded her.’
‘What?’
She fiddles with the phone and then I hear Mrs Jones’s voice coming from the tinny speakers. ‘He made a mistake, but one punch—’
I turn it off. ‘I get the idea.’
Scarlett is pretty much bouncing on the spot, she’s so excited. ‘This solves all our problems. It doesn’t matter whether Miss Perfect tells the truth. We have her mother confessing now.’ She hands me the phone. ‘You can thank me later.’
‘I …’ The phone feels incredibly heavy in my hands. Too heavy. This isn’t proof but it could be enough to convince Timmy that there’s no use lying. And Sean’s vulnerable. When we spoke earlier he looked like he might crack under a few more days of pressure and speculation. But … this is Callie’s mum.
Scarlett frowns. ‘What?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Right. Then why are there no celebratory fist pumps or songs about how I’m the world’s best sister?’
I arch a brow.
She waves me off. ‘Whatevs. This fixes everything.’
‘But hearing it makes me feel like shit. She obviously has issues.’
Her hands grip my arms. ‘Whatever you’re thinking, stop. Now.’
‘Like that the woman sounds unstable? And that if I use this everyone will know, and Callie will hate me forever?’
Scarlett huffs. ‘That’s not our problem.’
‘Not yours maybe.’
‘You heard what she said. She thinks you’re a criminal. Do you think Callie’s any different, deep down? She’s like Hayden. Happy to share a kiss in secret, but not exactly going public with the relationship.’
‘Give her a chance.’
‘To what? Screw us over more? You’re the one who told me to stop believing in fairytale romances. You should listen to your own advice.’
She’s right. I know she’s right. But Callie’s different. It’s more than just my heart. I’m sure of it with my mind and body and every cell inside me.
‘You deserve all that she’s got,’ says Scarlett.
‘You don’t know what her life is really like.’
‘I know about ours. I know … I know that when I need you, if someone’s threatening me, you’ll be there. You’re on my side. And I’m on yours.’ For the first time since we were kids I don’t hear any shadow in Scarlett’s voice or see it in her eyes. ‘I trust you, Rhett. And you can count on me.’
‘I know.’ I feel like I’ve finally got my sister back and it’s all be about to be destroyed.
‘Can you say the same about Callie Jones? Can you trust her?’
I press play again. It doesn’t get better on repeated listening. Internally, I wince. Is this what Sean meant when he talked about their mum? No wonder Callie is so driven to succeed, with her friend’s death and her mum’s illness haunting her. She probably feels responsible for both.
I picture her face if people start whispering about her mum and all I feel is the need to stop that future from playing out. I can’t do that to her. I won’t. I brace myself for my sister’s wrath, take a deep breath, and press delete.
‘What the hell?’ she cries. She grabs the phone back off me and fiddles for a few moments before slamming it down on the bench. ‘It’s gone. Completely wiped. You’re insane.’
‘I can’t do that to Callie.’
She shakes her head and her lip trembles. ‘You’d better hope you haven’t made a terrible mistake.’
‘I haven’t.’
And if I’m less than certain on the inside, nobody has to know.
CHAPTER
19
Callie
I go to bed early after picking up my car.
The empty house is eerie in its silence. Normally we’re all rushing about on a Sunday night, getting ready for the start of the week. Tonight, I’m alone.
&
nbsp; Sean hasn’t been home all day but no-one seems concerned.
Dinner was a microwave meal on my own. Dad said Mum was resting, but he spoke to his car keys instead of actually looking at me, and then muttered something about wanting to go for a drive to clear his head. I know what that means—she’s disappeared and he doesn’t want anyone to know.
The first time she went missing was a week after everything happened with Roxy. I cried myself to sleep that night and the next, and then she turned up the following day like nothing had happened. But it’s getting harder to remember the woman who used to play with my hair and tell me fairy stories when I was little. She’s become someone I’m scared of upsetting.
Tired of pretending, I text Dad, asking if he wants help in the search. He replies that he and Mum will be home in a little while. I let myself believe it.
I switch on the television but the happy family sitcom doesn’t help, and the music channel reminds me of my guitar. It was the only piece of me I had, and she broke it.
There’s a noise from the hallway. Heavy steps and a door shutting.
Sean.
I’m on my feet and pushing his door open before I can think.
He spins. His eyes are bloodshot and he reeks of sweat and last night’s fire. ‘Get out.’
‘Where have you been?’
‘Around. What’s it to you?’
‘We’re family.’
His chest heaves, and suddenly all the anger is gone. His eyes beg me and then his mouth follows. ‘Please don’t tell.’
‘I have to.’
‘He’s more important to you than me? Than family?’
‘I’m not choosing between you and Rhett.’ I have to believe I’m not lying. I have to believe that even if I didn’t have feelings for Rhett I would still be standing here saying the same thing, planning to do the same thing. ‘I’m choosing what’s right and doing the only thing that will let me sleep at night.’
His fists press into his temples. ‘Sleep is overrated. You need to consider what this will do to Mum.’
‘You think I haven’t?’
‘I don’t think you’re worrying about anyone but Rhett.’
‘That’s not true.’
‘If it wasn’t, you’d be trying to keep Mum out of an institution rather than driving her back there.’
‘Are you trying to tell me you care about Mum? You haven’t exactly been looking after her. And small detail, little brother: telling the truth is only bringing to light your actions. You cornered a girl behind the art centre and punched Hayden. Not me.’
‘I know. God, I know. I’ve been walking and thinking about it all day.’
‘And what has all this thinking told you?’
‘That telling the truth would be a huge mistake.’
I should have known. This is about Sean. Not Mum, not me. Him. ‘I’m thinking of you too. You’ll regret it forever if you don’t tell the truth. If you let someone else take the blame.’
‘Right.’
‘You could come with me and explain that it was an accident. Give yourself up.’
‘And destroy my own life?’
‘No. I want you to have a life. One where you aren’t haunted by this forever.’
Tears shine in his eyes. ‘Don’t you see? It’s too late for this to be a mistake or an accident. I can’t confess. I can’t. It would destroy everything. If you want to help me, then please, I beg you, shut the fuck up.’ He shepherds me out of his room, his shoulder colliding heavily with mine, and then the door slams closed.
I stare at it and realise I’m shaking. This thing is eating him up from the inside. He might have been begging me to keep quiet but one weekend and it’s already tearing him apart.
I’m going to tell.
I collapse on my bed, breathing hard. I switch off my lamp, take off my glasses and try to sleep. But I find myself watching the clock instead. What did Rhett mean by ‘later’?
I would have thought I’d have heard from him by now.
I hate that I’m a typical desperate female waiting for a boy to call. I debate a million possibilities in my head for why ‘later’ hasn’t happened yet and all of them are reasonable. Maybe his mum is worse and he’s had to get her to hospital. Maybe Lion is worse and Rhett’s needed in the surgery. Maybe he was coming to see me and Jonny found him.
I twist on the bed, burying my head in my pillow. If only my brain would switch off. After only a couple of hours’ sleep last night I should be struggling to stay awake, but oblivion evades me. In just a few hours I’ll be heading off to school to do something that could split open my family. But to do nothing …
I open the drawer next to my bed and take out the only photo of Roxy I have. My trembling fingers spread imaginary creases from the old print and I rest it on the pillow. I don’t need any more than the light from the street outside to see something I know so well. Her laughing five-year-old face smiles back at me. We’re arm in arm and our cheeks are pressed together.
I’ll never forget that day. It was birthday party heaven. Our birthdays were only three weeks apart and we shared a party. It wasn’t hard to convince our mothers to let us wear matching dresses. Mine was purple and hers the palest of blues. Her green eyes are alight with mischief and her red hair shines in the sunshine.
My eyes sting. It doesn’t matter how many times I look at the photo, there’s never a hint of what was to come.
My phone buzzes. I shove the photo away and grab my phone but don’t recognise the number. ‘Hello?’
‘It’s me.’
Rhett. The voice is crackly and unfamiliar but hearing it makes me adopt a silly grin.
‘Hey.’ I try for casual but it comes out nervous. It’s impossible that one word can betray how much I’ve been longing to hear his voice, but it does. I cough and start again. ‘I didn’t think you had a mobile.’
‘Javier lent me his.’
‘And my number?’
‘I have my ways,’ he says mysteriously. I wait, and he continues: ‘It was on Lion’s file.’ I can hear the smile in his voice.
‘Brilliant detective work.’
‘I know. Look out the window.’
I’m on my feet in a heartbeat. I pull up the blind and shift the curtain aside. At first, I see no sign of him. ‘Do I get another clue?’
He chuckles. ‘Up.’
I lift my head and then I see him. Only a few feet away, in the sturdy branches of the tree I’ve always loved, an arm’s reach from my window ledge. Very high off the ground. My belly rolls. ‘You’ll fall.’
‘Not if you let me in.’
I hesitate, but only for a moment. I need the reassurance of Rhett’s embrace. Rules about boys in bedrooms fade to nothing in comparison. I end the call and slide my window up, but hang back from the open edge, eyeing the ground far below. ‘Be careful.’
I can’t watch as he edges closer. I’m holding my breath, my eyes squeezed shut, when he clambers over the sill.
‘You can look now.’
I do. He’s so gorgeous and solid and real. ‘How’s Lion?’
‘Doing well, considering. His vitals are stronger.’
I exhale relief. ‘Do you want to sit?’ I whisper.
‘Um … Sure.’
I love that he’s as awkward and nervous as I feel and that his eyes are shining with the same kind of happiness that’s surging through me at the sight of him.
I lead the way to my bed and sit cross-legged in the middle.
He hesitates, blinking in the darkness, then creeps across the floor after me like a burglar in a bad movie. Halfway across, he steps on something and grabs his foot, performing a soundless dance of pain. His face scrunching, his lips mouthing language I’ve never heard him speak aloud, he hops the last few feet to land on the edge of my bed.
‘What is it?’
‘I don’t know.’ He glances down at his sneaker. There are holes in the side and sticking out of one is a long shard of light-brown wood.
‘My guitar.’
He pries it loose with a grimace. ‘Funny, looks more like a splinter on steroids.’
I shrug. ‘Well, it was my guitar. Before Mum decided to talk to me about who I’m spending time with.’
‘Your mum.’
His voice sounds strange and I try to read his expression but he’s still looking at his foot and his face is in shadow. Is he annoyed that I’ve brought her up when we’re alone in my room? It’s not like I have a heap of experience sneaking boys in.
I’m about to change the subject when he speaks. ‘Is she okay?’
‘Mum? Of course, she and Dad are out together tonight.’ I hope I’m telling the truth.
He seems to relax a little. ‘But she broke your guitar.’
I don’t need the pity in his voice. ‘It was an accident, and it was old anyway. It’s no big deal.’
‘I don’t believe you.’
How does he know me so well when no-one else wants to? ‘I loved to play.’
His mouth softens. ‘Me too.’
‘But you said—’
He touches my lips to silence me. ‘You confused the hell out of me, coming to my place and refusing to be scared away by my reputation. I didn’t want to tell you everything.’
‘Seems we have something in common.’
‘Did you have lessons?’
‘For a while, but Mum made me stop because she said all the time I spent practising was affecting my marks.’
‘I wouldn’t have thought of asking for lessons.’
‘I was lucky, and not. Anyway, the lessons stopped but I kept playing. It became my secret.’
‘You’re allowed to be happy.’
‘I’m not so sure.’
His hand encloses mine. ‘Tell me about your mum.’ He looks up and the light shines on his face, revealing genuine interest in his dark eyes.
‘I don’t usually talk about her.’
He squeezes my hand. ‘Talk to me.’
‘It’s hard. No-one knows about Mum.’
‘That she’s unstable?’
I frown. It might not be how I’d put it, but … ‘How?’
He shrugs. ‘She came by the surgery a little while ago.’
What I Saw Page 20