Girl Out of Water

by Nat Luurtsema

  I bound up to them and they all jump about six feet in the air.

  “What are you doing?!” Roman snaps.

  “Ah, did I fwighten you?” I snigger before shyness can stop me. Surprisingly, Pete laughs.

  “I’m sorry!” I tell them all. “I couldn’t get away sooner! I had to wait for my mum to leave and then fake a … an illness for my dad.”

  “Why?” asks Roman, baffled.

  I stare at him. “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?” says 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 chit-chat and snapping on a professional-looking torch. “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 year below me. The year that fifteen-year-olds are in. I didn’t think she was a twenty-year-old who couldn’t pass her GCSEs.”

  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 with 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 5 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 towards a large concealed doorway.

  Pete fiddles with the lock and carefully pushes open a heavy metal door. 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 jumper gently. I expect him to tell me to get off but he doesn’t, and Gabe hangs onto me in the same way.

  There’s carpet underfoot that’s so rough my trainers are catching on it and making me trip. We take a few steps, 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 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 I faint.

  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 trousers 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 water butt, the upturned bike and now this I am eighty-seven per cent 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.

  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 was surprised,” I say heavily from the floor.

  I hear Roman give a tiny laugh and 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 shoals 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 ask. We stare in silence until Pete breaks the moment.

  “Now, what would you like to swim with?” he asks, peering in to read the labels. “Koi carp, tuna 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 E-M-P-T-Y. 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 are huge and bitey.”

  “No they’re not,” he corrects me. We turn towards 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 towards 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 don’t know 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?” Gabe calls quietly upstairs. “You all right?”

  No answer.

  “You probably ate a close friend for lunch, Pete, and 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 incident never happened. He bounds downstairs. “Let’s try another tank.”

  “After you, mate,” 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 that’s full of tiny brightly coloured fish who seem more scared of us than we
are of them. We agree that we can only practise 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 colour. 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 back as they’re getting changed upstairs and I’m completely absorbed.

  I’ve got wifi 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 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 try-outs. 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, it says: I can’t do this any more.

  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 and make it open. I feel quite anxious now.

  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 of bleach and I see mops, buckets and a Henry hoover 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 little sweat. We’re shaking with the effort of trying to breathe quietly. My head is against Roman’s chest; 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 downwards, 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 blinding torchlight. The pressure in my head gets worse; I can feel my pulse thumping in my neck and I’m sliding further till 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 eyes to meet in the middle.

  26

  I wake up suddenly with a strange pressure over 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 hospital?

  I turn my head and see Mum. 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. What is going on?

  Mum’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’ve not seen this in years, not since that time I was seven and decided to have a snooze in the garage for a few hours without telling anyone.

  Mum doesn’t let go, and I’m breathing in her shampoo smells. 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. 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, so I address Dad and squeeze Mum’s hand. “It wasn’t Lavender’s fault; I just needed to help the boys with their swimming training.”

  “Was that it?” Mum asks.

  “Yes, of course!”

  “Of course nothing!” Mum’s temper flares up. “You were found in a broom cupboard with two older boys and a man who left school last year, unconscious and covered in bruises! We had no idea what had happened!”

  I touch my face. It feels puffy and hard. Even lifting my hand sends shooting pains down my side.

  “Do you want a mirror?” Lav asks.

  Dad clears his throat. Lav and Mum 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 my neck and shoulders. The cuts and bruises don’t stop. My face is black and blue, I have a split lip and there are strange marks all over me. It looks like I’ve been fighting wild animals.

  That makes me remember the shark, and I shiver.

  “Are you OK?” Mum is watching me warily.

  “Mum, this is all my fault.”

  “None of this is your—”

  “No, I mean it really is – I snuck out, I fell off the water butt,” I say, pointing at my shoulder. “Then I tripped over a bike in the back garden, then at the aquarium I fell over and I headbutted 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.

  Mum still looks grim.

  “Blame an upside-down bike if you want to blame something.”

  Mum 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, the try-outs 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.

  27

  Lou, hun, are you OK? We heard you got ARRESTED with Ro Garwood and Pete Denners. That can’t be true?!! Want to meet up after swimming training this week? All the girls were saying that we should, we haven’t seen you in AAAGES!

  Nic xx

  Hi Lou, I just wan
ted 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 mum. 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 sceptical face at me. Annoying. Mum gets out the crockery 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 water butt and the upturned bike, like the most rubbish guided tour ever.

  I’m still not allowed my phone back. I totally forget about Hannah’s unread email because I’ve got so many different problems: worrying if the boys got expelled; or, worse, if the police are involved. Any time I try to google the local news on our home computer, Mum is on me like a tuna fish on Pete’s leg. Plus I’ve got these painkillers to help me sleep and they leave me groggy till 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 Mum says. Saturday is the last public try-out. The day passes and, despite my begging, there’s no way I’m allowed to go.

  Mum 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 head back to bed and cry until I fall asleep and I wake up with a face like a blister.

  I wonder if the boys go to the try-outs without me. I bet they do. I have the most unreasonable parents in the world. Lavender reports back from school. She tells me:

  (1) People are shamelessly nosy and she’s told them all to eff off, especially Cammie, who reckons she’s “distrawn” (not even a word).