But more than that: somehow, Juliet had crept into the memory, turning it into something a bit different from a memory. I couldn’t get that thought out of my head, not even as we watched movies in the Governor’s Lounge and teased each other and occasionally dared just the slightest touch of fingers, breaking apart the moment anybody else came into the room.
Yeah. That definitely didn’t make it easier to push the thoughts away.
It did, weirdly, make it easy not to think about Adele when she wasn’t there. But it wasn’t like being kissed by Adele had left me unmoved. And if I was being really honest, I’d maybe admit that sometimes when I thought about the shower room it was Adele, and not Juliet, who turned up there.
School, more than ever now, was just something that filled the time between weekends at the Gallagher. I had become happily used to being left alone, so it came as a surprise when someone sat across from me one lunchtime while I was reading in the library.
I glanced up, a little annoyed, then froze when my eyes met Madison’s.
‘Hi Nelson.’
‘Hi.’
‘Haven’t spoken to you in a while. Are you alright?’
I stared at her, trying to think of a response. Her comment that we hadn’t spoken in a while seemed a bit rich considering the reason for that was the world’s worst rejection letter. And yes Madison, I was doing alright, thank you very much. Not that it had anything to do with her.
‘Fine,’ I said.
She seemed to be waiting for me to ask how she was. I didn’t.
‘I just wanted to say,’ her words were slow, measured, ‘that I meant what I wrote. About being friends.’
‘Do you think I’m a charity case?’ I asked before I could stop myself.
‘What?’ She gaped at me. ‘No, Nelson, of course not. I just —’
‘You just saw me sitting by myself and decided to do the right thing.’ I nodded. ‘Yeah, look, fair enough. I get that. Except I don’t need you to, so you might as well not bother.’
When Madison spoke again her voice was soft, almost like she was talking to a child.
‘Nelson, that’s not what I’m doing. I just wanted to clear the air.’
‘Bit late for that, isn’t it? It’s only been, what, two months? You weren’t interested in talking to me before, so what’s changed? Mum and Dad letting you speak to boys now?’
‘My parents had nothing to do with what happened.’
‘Fair enough,’ I said. ‘I was too much of a screw-up, right?’
‘No!’ Colour was rising in her cheeks. ‘I didn’t feel ready for a relationship and I still don’t. And talking to you now, it seems obvious you’re not either. If you’re acting like this.’
I laughed. ‘Oh, so that’s why.’
‘What’s why?’
‘That’s why you’re talking to me.’ I leaned back and crossed my arms. ‘You can tell something’s changed. You can tell I’m not awkward little Nelson any more, so what – you figured you’d give it another shot?’
She stood. ‘You’re right Nelson. You have changed. And I liked the old you a hell of a lot more.’
As she went to leave, I said, without really knowing why, ‘You know, I do have a girlfriend now. Juliet? Up on the mountain.’
She nodded without turning. ‘I know, Nelson. You pretty much yelled it at Dale Dickson. Congratulations. That was all you wanted, right? Didn’t matter who it was, as long as it was someone.’
I stood. ‘That’s not true.’
She turned. ‘Isn’t it? Nelson, if that’s what you want, I’m happy for you. Really. But it doesn’t change the fact that I meant what I said about wanting to be friends, and it definitely doesn’t change what I said about how I felt. Maybe if you stopped seeing yourself as the victim for five seconds you’d be able to work that out.’
She was gone before I could think of anything else to say. My heart was pounding and I felt somewhere between angry, embarrassed and kind of satisfied.
I sat down and tried to return my attention to my book, but it wasn’t working. I shut it and looked towards the library door Madison had left through.
There were no more pitying smiles from Madison after that. In fact, there was no more anything. If we saw each other in class or passed in the halls, she kept her eyes determinedly forward, as if I didn’t exist. I couldn’t work out if this was better or worse. I couldn’t even work out how I felt about our fight, not least because I had no idea why she’d approached me to begin with.
But I couldn’t worry about Madison.
With everything that had been happening, I’d let the Whitt slip to the back of my mind. I’d occasionally headed out to do a few practice runs, but had otherwise filed it under ‘Things to worry about later’. The problem was, ‘later’ had become ‘very soon’. The race was happening next Saturday.
‘How are you feeling about it?’ Dad asked, as we drove up the mountain the weekend before.
I grunted. I didn’t particularly want to tell Dad how I felt; partly because it was his fault I was doing the stupid race at all, and partly because I didn’t know myself.
My times had gotten good. Hayley, if she was still around, would probably be proud of me. I was turning sharply and reacting to bad conditions better than ever. But I was still operating with only myself for comparison. Sure, I’d qualified, but that didn’t mean I was a match for the kind of people who won these things. I couldn’t help thinking of Adele tearing down the mountain way ahead of me without any obvious effort.
And thinking of Adele reminded me that this was her weekend and I was still no nearer to telling her the truth.
‘Hey Nelson!’ She wrapped me in a hug the moment I walked through the door of the games room. ‘How’ve you been?’
‘Stressed,’ I said honestly, walking over to the couch and sitting.
‘Oh? Why?’ She settled across from me with a concerned expression.
‘Have I mentioned the Whitt?’
‘The race?’
I nodded. ‘Yeah. Well, I’m doing it.’
‘That’s awesome!’
‘And scary,’ I added. ‘So I’m probably going to spend the weekend practising, if that’s okay.’
‘Of course,’ she said. ‘Last year I was so freaked out about it I almost missed the final lifts every day. Came second though.’
I stared at her. A very, very faint alarm bell had started to ring in my head.
‘You’ve done the Whitt before?’ I asked.
‘Every year since I was old enough to enter.’
‘So …’ I swallowed. ‘So it must be strange that you’re breaking with tradition this year?’
‘Why would I be breaking with tradition?’
The alarm bell had become a keening siren.
‘But …’ My mouth was dry. ‘But you only come up every other week.’
‘Well, it was never a strict thing,’ she said. ‘Besides, if you’re a finalist the previous year you qualify automatically, which cuts out that whole ordeal. Didn’t I tell you I was doing the race?’
I shook my head. I didn’t trust myself to speak.
She smiled. ‘Well, you didn’t tell me either, so I guess I didn’t think of it. But yeah, we’ll see each other two weekends in a row!’
I tried to smile back.
‘Are you okay?’ she asked.
‘Yeah, I …’ I cleared my throat, trying and failing to push away the images racing through my head. ‘I just … I just feel sick.’
What would happen was like a fast-approaching train blaring a horn and shining its lights in my face. Juliet and Adele would meet. I’d be in the middle. I’d try to avoid being affectionate with either of them, but then someone would say something and that would be that. Best-case scenario: I’d have to do some awkward explaining about why I’d never mentioned one girl to the other. Worst-case scenario …
I stood and hurried for the door into the staff area before Adele could say another word.
Halfway to t
he sleeping quarters I remembered that Matt was gone. I sat down on the stairs and tried to push away the growing panic. It wasn’t going to help at all.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
Okay. It was simple really. I needed to go back out there and tell Adele the truth. I needed to apologise for not being honest earlier. And for letting her kiss me without explaining my situation.
And … Well, she was a nice person, right? She’d understand?
Yeah. She probably would. And that would be the worst part.
I hit my head against the wall. Then again and again.
There was no other option: I’d have to pull out of the race and stay away from the mountain for the weekend.
The thought of that wasn’t much better than the thought of actually doing the race – I didn’t want to imagine what Dad would say. But I’d made my idiot bed and now I had to lie in it like the idiot I was. I’d pretend to be sick or something, stay home and forfeit the race … And prove to the world that I was every bit the stupid loser they’d always said I was. Because no-one would believe for even a second that I’d conveniently got sick right before the race I’d somehow fluked my way into qualifying for.
Well, screw them. I could handle going back to peak loserdom. It wasn’t like it would be anything new. What I couldn’t handle was losing Juliet.
I leaned against the wall. I’d never been so aware of how cold this part of the lodge was.
It was inevitable that Adele and Juliet would meet. Bored teenagers up here couldn’t be expected to not find each other. And when they did, all it would take was for one of them to mention the guy they normally hung out with and the other one would put two and two together. The fact that I’d never spoken about them to each other would create suspicion, and then …
I found Robbie alone in the reception area, sorting some papers into various folders. She smiled as I came in, but that quickly dropped when she saw the look on my face.
‘Are you okay?’ she asked.
Privately wishing that Matt was still here, I filled her in on the situation. By the time I was finished, Robbie’s eyes were staring at the desk, a very slight frown crinkling her forehead.
‘So what do I do?’ I asked feebly.
‘You know what to do, Nelson.’
‘Didn’t you hear anything I said? I have no idea what to do.’
‘No,’ Robbie replied. ‘You have no idea how to get out of this scot-free.’
‘That’s the same thing, isn’t it?’
She looked at me. ‘It’s very simple, even if it’s not easy. You need to be honest with Adele. You need to go back up there and tell her about Juliet. You need to apologise for leading her on.’
‘But if they talk next week …’ I began.
‘Then it’s like I said. If you’re honest you won’t have anything to hide. The more you lie to people, the worse the fallout gets. And there will be fallout, Nelson. At this stage you can’t avoid that.’
‘There’s got to be a way,’ I said.
Robbie took my hand. ‘There isn’t, Nelson. I warned you and you didn’t want to listen. Now you have to face the consequences.’
I pulled away. ‘Well, thanks for the help.’
‘There’s not much I can do here,’ Robbie said. ‘You know as well as I do that there’s only one solution.’
‘No,’ I said, failing to keep the sneer out of my voice. ‘I know there’s only one solution you’re giving me. I bet Matt would have something else up his sleeve.’
‘Maybe he would. Last I saw of Matt, he was sneaking away with his tail between his legs. I’m not your enemy, Nelson. I’m trying to help, but you need to understand that you’ve done the wrong thing. And the only way out is to admit that, apologise, and hope they accept it.’
I looked at Robbie, trying to think of a retort. Her expression didn’t change.
I got to my feet and stormed out of reception.
Robbie didn’t call after me and that, somehow, made me even angrier. And more determined to prove her wrong.
The problem with determination is that it doesn’t count for much if you don’t have a solid plan.
The truth was, by Sunday I was already back to panic mode. I briefly considered apologising to Robbie and asking for more advice, but I knew what she’d say and I wasn’t ready to admit I was wrong. I was still holding out hope that some magical solution would come to me.
Still, that didn’t stop me trying to muster up the courage to come clean to Adele while Mum waited in the car outside and I said my goodbyes.
‘I’ll see you next weekend,’ she said, hugging me so tightly I could barely breathe. ‘Don’t freak out too much about the race.’
Sure. The race.
‘I won’t,’ I said, trying not to flinch as she kissed me on the cheek. ‘Just, um … one thing.’
Adele stepped back, wide-eyed and expectant.
I tried to make myself say it. There’s someone else and I’m in love with her and we kissed and I’m sorry.
‘I’m looking forward to it.’
I wished I’d turned away before I saw her grin.
19
Back home, facing a long week that looked a lot like a slow countdown to certain doom, the anger I’d felt gave way to a sense of hopeless confusion that did nothing to help my situation. I was barely able to pay attention in school, struggling to even distract myself with a book, as various scenarios played out in my head again and again.
There was the one in which Juliet and Adele fought to the death for my hand, which resulted in me being disowned and permanently barred from the Gal. The one where they stripped me naked, tied me up and buried me in the snow. Or the one where they fashioned a murder machine out of a ski lift, and used it to have me drawn and quartered. And a few more that were probably slightly influenced by me having recently finished the final Hannibal novel. But none of them suggested how the hell I was supposed to survive the stupid race that was responsible for this mess.
With no dream solution on the horizon, and the days slipping from one to the next with alarming speed, I felt cold terror rising. A terror that made it hard to find any kind of reasonable path forward. I didn’t have anyone to turn to. No Pat, no Robbie, no Matt. Ironically, considering my problem, I’d never felt more alone.
Wednesday lunchtime found me sitting on a bench in a closed-off ring of trees out the back of the school. It was more secluded than the library and I was hoping that being away from other people might trigger some spark of inspiration. So far, no luck.
I took out my phone and thought about sending a message to Adele. Maybe I could just lay it all out in words, make my excuse sound really heartfelt, and not have to worry about tripping over myself.
I started three different messages before giving up and throwing my phone on the ground. After everything that had happened, the fact that I was considering a message as a solution brought that horrible flat-tyre feeling back. Except now with an added sprinkle of self-loathing. Maybe I had to face the fact that, girlfriend or not, I just wasn’t very good at personhood.
I laughed quietly to myself, then heard something behind me. I turned and there, expression guilty as hell, one leg frozen mid-step, his mouth hanging open and the compost bin from the home economics room in his arms, was Dale Dickson.
We stared at each other for a short time, before the balance issue got the better of Dale and he put down his foot. But he didn’t move any closer.
‘What are you doing?’ I asked.
‘I’m, um …’ He cleared his throat. ‘Well, I was gonna wait for you to start your lunch then tip this compost bin over your head and, like, get all the compost and stuff in your food.’
‘And then I’d smell like compost for the rest of the day?’ I nodded. ‘Fair enough.’
‘You gonna run?’ he asked.
‘Probably not.’
‘But, like … I’m gonna compost you.’
‘Okay.’
‘You get what that
means, right?’
‘Pretty much what I think it does?’
‘Yeah, so … why would you want that?’
‘It’s not that I want it. More that I deserve it.’
‘Because you said I have no friends?’
‘What? No, that was totally fair. You’re an arsehole.’
Dale looked very confused. ‘So why do you deserve it?’
I probably should have sworn at him or thought of some witty comeback. But at that moment I really didn’t have it in me.
‘Okay, so you know that girlfriend I mentioned when I publicly humiliated you?’ I replied.
‘The one who doesn’t exist?’
‘Pretend she does for a sec.’
‘Alright.’
And so I told him everything, starting from Madison’s rejection, getting to know the staff at the Gallagher, meeting Juliet then Adele, and the complications that had grown as their feelings had become clear and mine had become confused. There was something weirdly satisfying about explaining the whole thing from start to finish, and by the time I was done I felt at least slightly untangled.
Dale, who’d moved to sit halfway through the story, gaped at me. ‘That’s …’
‘Complicated?’
‘Amazing. Dude, if you’re telling the truth then, like …’ He shook his head. There was an almost pained expression on his face. ‘Right, if you tell anyone I said this I’ll punch you, but like … I’ve never had anything like that happen to me. I mean, if one cute girl kissed me …’
‘But that’s the problem!’ I said. ‘You see how this is bad, right?’
He shook his head again.
I sighed. ‘Okay, look – I’m into Juliet. I think. But Adele likes me, and this whole time I haven’t told either of them about the other one. As far as both girls know, they’re the only person in my life. And I didn’t mean it to go this far, and I never exactly told Adele that I was into her, but somehow we’ve ended up in this situation and I still have to do the bloody race on top of all that …’ I trailed off.
The True Colour of a Little White Lie Page 12