And I wonder, who do I have?
I know that there’s only one person, really, who helps me forget everything. I want to see Josh. I want to kiss him. In our little world, nothing else matters. I give in and message him.
Sorry about earlier. Things are so complicated … Can we start over? Please?
And then I finally do the deep breathing my brother showed me. I stand up and breathe deep into my belly. I do that until I feel calm again. Then I lie down on my bed and imagine Akash here. He’d drink this whisky with me. Make me laugh. Why, why didn’t I go to the party with him?
My phone buzzes. It’s Josh.
Hey! What you thinking?
I’m thinking that I really like you. So can we figure out the rest? And forget whatever I said this afternoon?
So un-pause?
Yeah?
OK!
I smile. Huh. OK. Simple. I like that. I wish I had his brain. I message him back.
Cool. What you up to?
Confession: I was thinking about you when you messaged. Been revising. Now out for a walk.Stargazing …
My heart races. Thinking about me. It’s probably the whisky, but everything’s suddenly warm and fuzzy. I push the bottle back under my bed and curl up under the covers with a stupid grin on my face.
You and your stars, Josh! Lol!
Oh God, I wish I hadn’t mentioned stars now …
Ha ha. No, don’t worry. Stargazing actually sounds perfect right now.
There’s nothing for a few seconds and then:
Want to join me? No pressure though. I know it’s complicated …
I swallow hard. I want to go. I really, really want to go. But I can’t. If Dad catches me, I won’t be able to go to art college. And I need my art more than ever now. I need to get away from Mum and Dad. Away from this … this baby.
And yet … Mum and Dad are asleep, aren’t they?
I don’t know if it’s the alcohol or what, but I’m imagining sneaking out. I just need to be really careful that no one catches me. Josh sends another text.
I’m actually heading to my dad’s grave. Could do with the company.
Aha. That changes things, doesn’t it? He needs me. Anyone would go, wouldn’t they? I can’t just leave him at his dad’s grave alone. I sit up.
Let me see what I can do.
I tiptoe down the corridor and press my ear against Mum and Dad’s bedroom door. I hear A LOT of snoring. Dad’s, like a minor hurricane, shaky and phlegmy. Gross. And Mum’s, more like a distant whistle.
Definitely asleep.
I take a deep breath in. OK. Maybe I can do this. I’ll be extra quiet going out and coming in. And I’ll see Josh and no one will be able to stop us, not Dad’s threats, not even a baby.
It dawns on me how happy I’m suddenly feeling. Maybe I don’t need my meds after all.
I tiptoe back to my room. Stuff it. Mum and Dad are doing what they want. I’m going to live my life too. After all, you only have one, right?
What am I waiting for?
As I’m leaving, I take one last look at the picture I did earlier. I’m astounded. How did I paint it so fast? And why don’t I remember doing it? It’s still not finished. There’s something missing, which I can’t quite figure out, but it really doesn’t look like something I would paint. It actually looks … A shiver runs through me … It looks more like something Akash would do!
A thrilling thought dives into my head: Was Akash here after all?
Did he … help me?
I peer around my room for any signs of him. I don’t even know what I’m looking for. Then I shake my head at myself. What is going on with me lately? I’d remember something like that, wouldn’t I? And anyway I looked everywhere earlier: Akash isn’t here.
But then I look at the painting again.
And I feel that shiver again. Is he?
It’s totally dark outside the graveyard. Spooky. There are no street lamps, and branches from overgrown trees spill over the wall surrounding the cemetery, blocking any light from the moon. The air is cool. It smells of pine trees, moss and mud. I’m still warm from the whisky and the walk here and everything’s fuzzy, but I hover next to the huge metal gates, having second thoughts. Is Josh already inside? Should I go in or is this actually a bit weird? Maybe we could go to the park or something instead. Somewhere a bit more … normal?
My phone rings. I jump and for a terrible moment I think it might be Mum or Dad. My heart hammers against my chest. But no, it’s Josh.
‘Hey. Whereabouts are you?’ he asks. He sounds out of breath.
‘Outside. Main road entrance. I can’t see you …’ I’m breathless too, still startled by the ringing. I need to get a grip.
‘Stay there,’ he says. ‘I’ll come and get you.’
A few seconds later, Josh appears, shining the torch on his phone to light up the worn, muddy path in front of him as he approaches the gates from the inside. He’s wearing trainers, jeans, and a rucksack over his sweatshirt. His hair’s messy. Cute. It’s a relief to see him.
He comes right up to me, close, and I can feel the heat from his body.
‘Permission to kiss you?’ he says, instead of hello. His breath is warm. Smells of beer. I see that he’s clutching a can in his other hand.
I chewed gum on the way over, so I’m hoping I smell of mint by now and not of whisky. ‘Permission granted.’
‘You’re sure now? Not going to change your mind again?’
I shake my head. Smile at him. ‘Nope.’
He smiles too, and we do this funny smile-kiss, which is a bit like trying to eat each other’s teeth, and we end up laughing before it turns into a proper kiss. His body is right up against mine now. My skin tingles all over. My stomach buzzes. I put my arms round his waist. We kiss and kiss. I can’t believe how fast everything’s moving between us, but at the same time it feels totally natural.
A car drives past and it’s suddenly bright, its headlights lighting up the road around us like a spotlight. I pull away from Josh. Oh God. Oh shit. What if it’s someone who knows Mum or Dad? I turn my face away from the street to hide, peer up at the trees lining the graveyard. My heart’s beating so fast I can feel it thudding against my chest.
‘Let’s go in,’ I say, suddenly realizing the graveyard is possibly the best place in the world for us to meet. The chances of me seeing someone I know in there are zero. Right? And if that did happen, especially at this time of night, it would be so unexpected and weird that it would be like a sign from the universe, telling us we’re not meant to be together.
And then I have another thought: Or a sign from Akash maybe, wherever he is.
‘Sure!’ Josh says, not noticing I’m being a bit weird. He grabs my hand, leads the way.
We’re silent as we make our way through the woodland leading to the graves. My heartbeat steadies; my breathing calms. We’re in our own little universe now, hidden from the rest of the world. Only the sound of our footsteps can be heard, twigs snapping beneath our trainers as we walk. Finally, we reach the graves. I try not to look at them until we stop because I find graves disturbing, especially all the names and dates on them. Once, when I was younger, I read them as I walked through here with Akash, a short cut to the park. It was overwhelming, imagining all those families who have gaps where people should be: empty dining chairs and beds and shoes and bedrooms.
Empty bedrooms that might one day be filled.
No, no, I don’t want to think about that right now. I focus on Josh.
His dad’s gravestone is big and black and shiny. It has gold lettering, which shimmers in the moonlight. It’s smart, spotless, like someone has recently polished it. Josh crouches down on the grass next to it and slips his backpack off his shoulders. He pulls out a couple of cans of beer.
‘Want one?’ he asks.
‘Sure.’
I sit down next to him and take the can. We sip beer while looking at the gravestone. It reads:
IN MEMORY OF
DANIEL STONE
(1968–2013)
FATHER, HUSBAND, SON.
LOVED DEARLY BY ALL.
I glance at Josh, waiting for him to say something. But he doesn’t. And, although I’m glad that no one can see us in here, I can’t help but feel it is a bit strange. Then, I don’t know why, I have this sudden, terrible, uncontrollable urge to laugh. What the hell is wrong with me? It bubbles in my stomach, gurgles in my throat. I shake a bit from trying to keep it all in and I’m sure it’s going to spill out any second and ruin absolutely everything between Josh and me.
I gulp down practically the whole can of beer to try to calm the giggles. It works, thank God. Bit like putting out a fire. I focus on how creepy this place is so that I don’t laugh again. It’s just so weird, all these dead bodies in one place, all those bones under the mud. I peer into the darkness. There could be hundreds of ghosts around us right now. A shudder goes through me. Great, now I’ve managed to freak myself out.
I shift a bit closer to Josh. ‘So … do you … come here often?’ I say, trying to lighten the mood. I watch his face for a reaction. I hope I’m not being too insensitive, but I need to do something.
Luckily, he laughs. ‘This isn’t the most romantic, is it?’
The beer fizzes in my belly. ‘No, no … it’s fine. Totally fine … Graves and ghosts and whatever else is lurking in those shadows is actually my idea of a perfect date.’ I do a pretend shiver to cover up a real one.
He laughs again. ‘It seemed a good idea at the time … I … I don’t know why …’
Josh finishes his beer and gets himself another. He passes me another can too. I’m tipsy. I shouldn’t drink it. But I take it. Who decides what we should and shouldn’t do anyway? Why are there all these rules all the time? Would you like a drink? Yes, please. It should be that simple. Shouldn’t it?
‘I usually talk to him,’ Josh says. ‘You know, like if I’m upset, or worried about anything. It helps. It never seemed strange on my own, but now …’ He looks at me sheepishly.
‘It’s OK,’ I say, wrapping my fingers round Josh’s. ‘I get it.’ And I get why he might want me here with him too.
‘I wish you’d met him,’ he says.
‘Yeah. Me too.’
We look at the shiny gold words for a bit longer. FATHER, HUSBAND, SON. Funny how you can mean so much to so many people, and then suddenly be gone.
‘Where do you think he is now?’ I ask.
Josh squeezes my hand tight. ‘Dunno, to be honest.’ He sniffs. ‘Mum believes in the afterlife. She never used to, but she completely changed after Dad died. Yoga and running was just the beginning. Then it was meditation, gratitude lists, incense sticks – like a whole different Mum. But … I guess that’s what happens … Things happen … and we change.’
I swallow. Things happen. We change. ‘Yes, yes, that’s true.’
He drinks some more beer. This time, he downs loads in one go. ‘What about you? What do you think happens … afterwards?’
I shrug.
‘Do you ever wonder about Akash?’ he goes on. ‘What happened? How do you … How do you deal with that … that loss?’
I shrug again. The real question is, what have I not wondered about Akash? ‘I find all that stuff … confusing,’ I say. ‘But, you know, weirdo parents, that is my forte too.’
Josh laughs. ‘Trust me, your mum can’t be weirder than mine. She’s vegan now and completely obsessed with all things green. She even goes to these classes where they dance naked and stuff.’ He groans. ‘Oh God, I can’t believe I just told you that. When you meet her, that’s all you’re going to be thinking about now. Naked dancing.’
I laugh too. But all I’m actually thinking is: He wants me to meet his mum! I try to play it cool. Totally cool. ‘Honestly, nothing about parents can shock me any more. They reckon teenagers are hard to understand, but whatever. I can’t keep up with old people …’
Josh looks at me, waiting for me to continue. ‘Your parents are strict, right? That’s why you were unsure of things earlier …’
‘Yeah. I mean, they’re so … I don’t even know what the word is. Traditional. Old-fashioned. Weird. All of the above. It was always there, just much worse now. Proper weirdos.’
I laugh but Josh doesn’t.
‘So … if we’re going to do this, it’s not going to be … easy …’ I try to explain. ‘No one can know about us. It can’t get back to my parents …’
Josh nods but he’s frowning. ‘Yeah, yeah, I get that. But how old do you have to be? You know, until you can have a … boyfriend?’
My heart sinks. ‘Well, I … I’m not sure.’ Then my heart flutters. Does that mean he wants to officially be my boyfriend?
‘Oh.’
‘But it doesn’t mean …’ I swallow. ‘It doesn’t mean I can’t have a boyfriend.’
Josh nods slowly. He looks confused. I cringe. God, I wish we’d stuck to talking about graves and the afterlife. That was definitely less awkward. I’m actually feeling quite sick now. That combination of whisky and beer probably wasn’t the best idea. ‘My mum’s having a baby,’ I say suddenly. I don’t know why I add that to the mix right then. But there it is. Maybe I need to prove just how bizarre my parents are. Because then perhaps we can laugh about it. Or maybe I just need to talk to someone about it, share the weight of it all.
Josh tilts his head. ‘Wow.’
‘Yep! She should’ve tried yoga and running, or even meditation first, right?’ I force a small laugh. ‘It’s just so weird. And they’re so old.’
We both screw up our faces.
‘God, yeah,’ Josh says. ‘The thought of parents having sex. Gross.’
We stare at each other. Sex. All I hear is sex. And, from the way he’s looking at me, I know he’s thinking about it now too.
He turns to face me, kisses me, which I guess means he’s OK with the secrecy thing. And, the next thing I know, we’re lying on the grass, next to Josh’s dad’s grave, and we’re kissing and kissing and Josh’s hands are everywhere. In my hair, on my waist, my thighs. And I feel like I did at Fi’s party the other day: as if the world and everything that has happened in my life before this moment is a distant and inconsequential thing.
A totally embarrassing sound escapes my lips. Like I’m enjoying myself a bit too much. Oh God, I want to die. But then Josh makes a similar sound back and it makes it OK. Sort of special even. A secret between us. We carry on kissing and it all feels so good – until I accidently hit Josh’s dad’s headstone with my elbow.
We both freeze. I clutch my elbow. Wince. Josh is above me and he looks at the headstone and then back at me. We smile at each other awkwardly.
‘You OK?’ he asks.
I nod as I rub my elbow. Talk about killing the mood.
‘Do you … want to get out of here?’ he asks. ‘Maybe … come back to mine for a bit?’ He coughs. A bit nervous maybe. ‘My mum’s cool about that sort of thing.’
I’m still doing the awkward smile. A part of me really wants to go back to his. The other part of me wouldn’t know what to do, where to start, and it all feels a bit like it’s too much too soon. Also I can’t because I should probably get home. ‘Oh, I uhhhh … well, my parents aren’t.’
‘Oh God, of course, yeah!’ Josh shakes his head. ‘Sorry!’ He rolls down on to the grass by my side. We’re squashed in between two graves, Josh’s dad’s and someone else’s. Josh clutches my hand and presses his palm against mine. I press mine against his too. We are hot. Sweaty. My heart is racing again.
‘We can still kiss though, right?’ I whisper.
He smiles. I smile back. And we do that cute smile-kiss thing again that turns into a laugh-kiss, our teeth clashing together. Then Josh kisses my neck, and it feels good. Any awkwardness around the headstone or invite home slips away.
But now I’m thinking about home. Have my parents maybe woken up? No, no, I push the thought out of my head. I want to stay a bit longer and they’v
e ruined enough already. I’m not going to let them spoil this too.
I kiss Josh back.
And eventually my parents and the bad thoughts drift away.
I wake up abruptly, as if someone has pushed me. My head’s spinning and pounding all at once. At first I think I’m still at the graveyard: I’m cold, damp with sweat, a horrible sour taste in my mouth. But then panic fills me as I realize I’m in a bed that’s not mine. Josh’s bed? I sit up. Look around. My heart steadies. No. I’m in Akash’s room: grey walls and lemon-yellow curtains and bookshelves full of thick art books. His guitar is balanced against the wall in the corner. Beneath me is his grey-and-white striped duvet.
I’m struck again by a horrible, sickening thought: Soon this won’t be Akash’s room any more.
But I push the thought away. I need to focus. Why am I in Akash’s bed? How did I get here?
I’m in my pyjamas. I have my phone. But I don’t remember coming into Akash’s room, getting into his bed, or falling asleep. It must be very early; the sky is deep orange and the air is cool. I check the time on my phone: 5.30 a.m.
Images from last night flash through my mind as I try to piece everything together. I remember a feeling of dread coming over me as Josh and I said goodbye outside the graveyard. It was the thought of Dad catching me again. I practically had to drag myself home. The closer I got, the heavier my legs felt, and the more my chest tightened. And then, as I walked down the drive, I started shaking uncontrollably. I was still shaking once I’d climbed back through my bedroom window. Dad wasn’t there. But, even though I should have been relieved, I kept shaking and shaking.
It was a full-blown panic attack. I hadn’t had one like that since the Year Nine SATs. After that, I remember nothing.
Another buzz of panic flashes through my chest now. Did I shut my bedroom window?
Silently – and I’m seriously impressed by how silent I can be, especially considering how dizzy and tired I feel – I climb out of Akash’s bed, straighten the covers, tiptoe across the hallway and slip into my room.
The Million Pieces of Neena Gill Page 7
