by Sarah Delany
I move to my door and yell out, “Mum, I’m not feeling well. I’m going to stay in bed.”
“Oh no. Do you need anything, bub?” she asks, in her concerned tone.
“No, it’s okay. I took some pain relief. I’ll hopefully be able to sleep it off,” I tell her, hoping my hangover will lessen after a nap.
“Okay sweetie, rest up,” she says, unaware her daughter was drinking last night. I hop back into bed and find my phone on the bedside table. I grab it and quickly send a text.
Tamsyn: Thanks for last night.
Instantly a reply comes through.
Rafe: Don’t mention it :)
Putting my phone on silent, I snuggle under the covers, pulling them up to my chin and stare at the ceiling until I drift off to sleep.
-- Tate --
Ugh, why is it so sunny in my room? I cover my eyes from the brightness. Those birds sound awfully close. I slowly peel my eyes open and view my surroundings. Chill seeps into my bones as I realise I’ve fallen asleep on the grass. I push myself up from the ground and feel the dewy green blades under my hands. With a foggy head I glance around, not sure where I am. I sit there for a minute, trying to get my bearings. Bending my knees, I place my arms across them and lower my head, still feeling drunk and try to calm the spinning in my head. I think back to the day before. Quinn’s funeral. Tamsyn texted JP. Me leaving the house and wandering around. I raise my head again and take another look around. There’s a few white buildings in the distance with forest green roofs. They look familiar. Dammit, I’m at my old school. I fell asleep on the football field. Great. This is one of the last places I want to be. This school holds too many memories of Quinn.
I pat my pockets to locate my phone and pull it out. That’s when I notice the not so discrete pile of vomit next to me. My new thing seems to be sleeping outside and vomiting my guts out. Just great. The time on my phone says it’s seven thirty. At least it’s a Saturday so nobody should be around. I heave myself up to stand, swaying while I do. I had way too much to drink last night. I shake my head to try and rid it of the fogginess. My eye catches the empty bottle, lying a few feet away from me. I walk over and pick it up and stumble across the field towards the school buildings, with the glass bottle dangling from my fingers. I dump the empty bottle in a trash can and keep up my slow stagger as I walk towards the entrance of the school. I don’t want to go through the school but it’s the fastest route to get home so I focus on the end goal and nothing else. My head is too vulnerable at the moment and more susceptible to a flood of memories, centred around Quinn, so I focus on putting one foot in front of the other.
I check my phone again and see I have a barrage of missed texts and calls. I open them up. Three missed calls from JP, one from my dad and three texts from JP.
JP: Come home bro, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have mentioned her.
JP: I’m starting to get worried, it’s been hours now, can you come home please?
JP: Your dad came looking for you and he figured out you had taken off so now he’s worried too. Please let me know you’re alright.
His last text came in at midnight. I could care less if they were worried. They were lucky I made it to the funeral. I was close to not turning up. I can’t deal with people at the moment. I’m better off by myself. They either remind me of Quinn or remind me of Tamsyn and I don’t want to think about either of them. Saying their names in my head tears a strip off my heart.
I stagger through the concrete gate and turn in the direction of home. My head is killing me with a constant throbbing behind the eyes. I like the fact alcohol sends me into a forgotten darkness but I could do without the hangovers. Getting myself home takes longer than I remember. It could do with the fact the alcohol is still very much swimming in my veins. With the amount I drank yesterday to black out, I’m not surprised I’m still a tad drunk. As I reach my house, I stop and look up at it, shielding my eyes from the bright sun with my hand. Our off white house stands there, and for some reason looks smaller than I remember. It’s because Quinn’s presence is missing from it. I drag my feet up to the big bright red door and twist the handle, hoping it opens. Luckily it does and I creep inside, silently closing it behind me. I try to get to my room before I’m seen but my dad is sitting at the kitchen table. His tired eyes look at me and I know he’s been waiting up all night.
“Tate?” he softly calls, and I don’t want to make matters worse so I take a seat opposite him. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks me, as I look down at the table. I shake my head. How can talking with him help, he’s got his own grief to worry about. I don’t want to burden him with my pain when he already has Mum to look after, she’s struggling too. We all are. I don’t want to see his face, because I don’t want to see the anguish behind his eyes I know is lurking there. He lets out a deep sorrow filled sigh and says, “If you ever change your mind and want to talk, I’m here son. Remember that.”
Without looking at him, I push my chair back and stand up. I walk over to the sink, fill a glass with cold water and gulp it down, hoping it will help with the banging in my head. I refill it again and take a few more sips before I rinse it and leave it in the sink. Walking to my room, I open the door and find it empty. For a second, I wonder what happened to the guys before I shove that thought aside. It doesn’t matter. All that matters right now, is sleep.
I kick off my shoes, and unzip my pants pulling them down and throwing them in the corner of my room. My shirt follows. I might burn those clothes. I never want to wear them again. They only serve as a reminder of the worst day of my life. I pull the covers back and crawl into bed. With the alcohol still in my system and the exhaustion from this week’s events, sleep comes surprisingly easy and I sail away into what I hope will last forever.
I throw myself into a sitting position. Panting, I throw the drenched covers off as I’m covered in sweat. I inhale deeper and slow my breathing down. It wasn’t real. It was only a dream, I tell myself. It was remarkably vivid, it had me believing it was real. I was running when I came upon the dock, where I found Tamsyn that night. I had slowed my steps and saw a hand reaching up from the water. I’d dropped to the ground, lying down and reaching my hand out, trying to reach them. Their head had surfaced and it was Tamsyn then she’d sunk again. When she resurfaced, it was Quinn’s face instead. I started panicking, trying to reach her but she had sunk too. I had grasped the hand and pulled them up but it wasn’t either of them. It was my own face staring back at me. I’d been in such a state of shock, I’d dropped my hand and I had sunk, my hand disappearing into the dark water. That’s when I woke up.
I run my hands down my face, wiping the moisture away. Getting out of bed, I stare at the sweat covered sheets. I can’t get to sleep lying on those. I strip all the sheets off my bed and throw them in the corner to join my discarded clothes. I glance at the alarm clock beside my bed and it’s only been a couple hours. I climb back on my bed not caring that I’m lying on a bare mattress. I grab my headphones, plug them in and turn on my Spotify playlist. I hope the loud music will be a reprieve and drown out any thoughts trying to take root. I stare at the plain ceiling, numbing myself and waiting for exhaustion to kick in again.
I blink, as I slowly come out of my sleep and the clock comes into focus. It’s one in the afternoon. At least I’ve managed to get some undisturbed sleep today. It’s quiet. I notice my phone beside my head, my headphones having come free of my ears during sleep. I sit up and stretch my arms over my head. Leaning back against the wall, I hear a knocking at my door.
“Come in,” I say through a yawn. JP enters with a tired look on his face. He looks like he just woke up.
“Hey bro,” he says, as he comes in. He eyes up my bare bed and the discarded sheets in the corner then sits by my feet at the end of the bed. I don’t say anything, knowing he will start talking in his own time. He runs a hand over his head and lets out a sigh.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I say, trying to contain my anger. I’m sick of people asking me that question. Obviously I’m not fine, and asking me a dumb question like that irritates me more.
“Where did you end up last night?” he asks.
“Nowhere in particular. I got home this morning in one piece so there was no need to worry,” I tell him. He looks at me and I see the pain in his eyes. He’s worried about me but right now I want to be by myself.
“I do worry about you, it’s hard not to. I know Quinn died but the way you’re acting isn’t you.”
“Don’t. Don’t bring her up. I don’t want to talk about her right now,” I tell him sternly.
“What about Tamsyn then? Do you want to talk about her?” he says, raising his voice. Her name hits me in the gut. I wish he would stop bringing her up. I ignore him, hoping he will drop it. “She was drinking by herself last night. Rafe managed to find her at the dock, where she ended up crying herself to sleep. He carried her home and snuck her into the house so her mum wouldn’t know.” I wince inside and hope it doesn’t show on my face. “The worst part was she kept going on about you. She was worried about you.” I shake my head, this is not what I need to hear right now.
“I’m no good for her. I’m a mess at the moment. She’s better off without me,” I say, hoping it will convince him to let the subject of Tamsyn go.
“Why don’t you at least come back to school with me and see how it goes?” he asks.
“Leave it JP. I told you, I’m not coming back. I should have never come in the first place,” I say.
“She needs you bro.” I release a sigh and press my fingers to my temples, feeling a headache coming on.
“Please, I can’t do anything for her right now. I need my space to grieve for my sister so please, drop it already,” I plead with him. He hangs his head as we sit in silence for a few minutes.
“Fine, but if you need me for anything, call me please. It doesn’t matter what time of the day it is.” I nod, and he exits the room knowing our conversation is over. It was over as soon as he mentioned Tamsyn. She’s better off without me. I’m no good for her. She deserves better than me. I’m too broken right now. I would be a liar if I said I wasn’t worried about her. She shouldn’t be drinking like that. I wonder what made her start drinking like that again. No, I can’t fall back into those patterns. I can’t spend my time worrying about her anymore. I push thoughts of her aside and bury them deep down inside. I don’t have the energy to worry about her, it would be far too overwhelming like a swimmer caught in a riptide, using all their strength swimming against the current, only to be hit by a huge wave with no means of escape.
Chapter 4
-- Tamsyn --
The week has passed in a blur. I couldn’t focus on school work even if I wanted to. I don’t have the energy to engage in any classes. I feel lost without Tate. He was the lifeline I needed to pull myself above the waves so I was treading water, but now I’m drowning in it again, not able to surface. I don’t have the energy to keep pretending any more or plaster on my old reliable fake smile. The guys include me at school but it feels different without Tate here. JP arrived back a few days ago so he’s been picking us all up for school and dropping us all home. I’m not sure whose idea it was for all of us to go to school together as it used to just be me, Tate and JP. Maybe JP didn’t want to be alone with me. I don’t know. I sometimes catch him looking at me with a sad expression on his face. I think he feels responsible for how Tate talked to me that night because he was the reason I was there. If I didn’t go see Tate that night, I would be stuck in a worse limbo than I am now, not knowing what was happening between us. I probably wouldn’t have received a goodbye. None of that is JP’s fault, he couldn’t know what was going to happen. Now they probably feel stuck with me because of him. They wouldn’t have talked to me or given me the time of day if it wasn’t for him. Now he’s left me behind and they’re here to pick up the pieces but the biggest piece to my puzzle is missing and I’m not sure how they can possibly fix me.
I hate human bio now. It went from being my favourite class to my most hated class in the space of a day. Every time I sit at my table, his missing presence is like a nail getting hammered through my heart. Scott and Rafe include me during class. I catch them both, giving his empty seat glances, when they think I’m not looking. I think they both miss him as well. In his current state of mind, Tate didn’t think to say goodbye to them. JP didn’t tell us much when he returned. He said the funeral was nice and Quinn would have liked it. He tried not to talk too much about Tate. I wanted to ask how he was doing but the voice in my head stopped me, this time. Telling me if he needed you, you would have heard from him. He probably wouldn’t appreciate me begging for scraps of information about him from his cousin.
I’ve nearly taken the plunge and dialled his number a couple of times. I can never bring myself to follow through. A small piece of me still clings to him and hopes he will come back, telling me he didn’t mean it, and he feels the same way I do. That he can heal with me, instead of without me. Will he ever come back for me or am I kidding myself? Is it dumb to hope for something he made clear wasn’t going to happen? He could change his mind. I’m sure it was just his grief talking.
Here I sit in human bio, with my head lying on my arms, trying my damndest to keep it together. It’s tiring. Ms. Chadwick is droning on about whatever topic it is we are learning about today. I haven’t taken any notes since he left. Scott kindly has taken it upon himself to take notes and photocopy a set for me after each class. He gives them to me every day on the ride home from school. Without warning, the tears fall from my eyes and I can’t keep them at bay. I have no other thought but to get out of the class before nosey eyes get drawn my way, looking for another piece of gossip to keep them entertained. I hastily push my chair back and rush from the room, only hearing Ms. Chadwick call my name when I’ve already left the class behind. I need the safety of my sanctuary. Luckily it’s empty. That’s the upside to leaving class in the middle of a lesson. There are less people about so there’s less chance someone will see me. I lower the lid, climb up onto the toilet and hug myself close in the last cubicle. Breathe Tam breathe. It’s only tears. Let them out and move on. I let my anguish out and sit with my misery for a few minutes. I miss Tate. Why wasn’t I enough for him? Why couldn’t I save us both? Will he come back for me? All these unanswered, neverending questions swamp my mind.
I sit cuddled in my little ball when the bell for the end of school rings. I should get up and grab my things from class but I need to pull myself together first. The thought of the guys waiting and worrying about me has me exiting the stall and stumbling over to the sink. I turn the cold tap on and splash handfuls of water on my face, trying to remove some of the blotchiness my tears have caused. The door opens and I avoid eye contact with whoever it is, focussing on the cold water instead.
“Hey Tamsyn, are you okay?” I hear quietly next to me. I look at the person through the mirror. I can see the pain clearly on my face and don’t try to hide it.
“Yeah Penny, I’ll be alright. Having one of those days,” I say to the girl who has only ever been kind to me.
“Yeah, I know exactly what you mean,” she says, as she pulls out some paper towels and hands them to me so I can dry my face.
“Thanks,” I say in return, as I dab at my wet face.
“You doing anything tonight?” she asks.
“No, I was planning on hanging out at home. What about you?”
“I’m having another party. My parents are away again so I thought why not. You should come with the guys,” she says. Her invitation sounds genuine. Ever since I found out Leyla and Chloe were backstabbing cows, I’ve avoided girls like the plague. It was easier hanging out with the guys. At least they are straight with each other. There’s no deceit and lies between them, no games being played behind
each others’ backs. What you see is what you get with them and I will forever be grateful for that.
“I’ll ask them,” I tell Penny, and a smile lights up her face. Perhaps she does want me to come and the invite wasn’t because she pities me.
“Cool. Hopefully I’ll see you there,” she says as I exit the bathroom, throwing the paper towels in the bin. I hurry through the hallways and out into the carpark. Knowing Scott, he probably grabbed my things for me.
“There you are,” I hear from my side, and turn to look up at Rafe’s worried face.
“Sorry, I had a moment. I’m fine now,” I tell him, as he throws his arm over my shoulders.
“We are here for you if you need us, Petal.” I glance up at him and smile. All these boys are such sweethearts. I don’t deserve it.
“Oh, I left my bag behind in class. Scott didn’t manage to grab it, did he?” I ask, remembering my bag.
“As a matter of fact, he did. He packed all your books into it too,” he cheerily says, like he’s proud of Scott for grabbing my things. As we near the car, I see Scott and JP waiting outside on the hood instead of in their seats. Since we are together, I take it as the perfect opportunity to bring up the party. I hope the invite will distract them so they don’t worry about why I was hanging out in the bathroom.
“So Penny invited me to her party tonight. She said to bring you guys. What do you think?” I look at each of them, trying to gauge their response. They all glance at each other and it’s Rafe who chirps up first.
“A party sounds awesome, I’m in.”