by Will Davis
Dad's like, Lois—
But there's the sound of her scraping back her chair and then she cuts him off by going, I never even wanted to be a mother. How did this happen to me?
Then there's the sound of her coming towards the door and I try to slide behind it but I'm not fast enough and she comes out and like, practically walks into me. She doesn't say anything though, she just looks at me. In her face it's like there's this look of complete disgust but also this weird satisfied look, like she's thinking, Good - now you know what I really feel. Then she clomps off upstairs. I stand there feeling all horrible, and then I peek into the kitchen and see that Dad's opened the door and is sitting on the back step smoking.
I decide to starve and go back up to my room where I call up Al. It's weird though, because I don't even know that I'm doing it, or what I'm planning to say to her. I just press the buttons and do it. It's like something's taken control of me, so maybe it is shock or something after all.
Al answers right away. She's sounds like she's been crying. She like, wails down the line at me, Jaz! We're moving house! We're moving to Leeds! Oh God . . . Leeds! I can't go to Leeds . . .
I'm like, Huh?
Al's like, Dad got his transfer - to Leeds!
And then it's like something clicks in my head, just like that. It's obvious what we have to do here, it's the only option. I'm like, Listen Al. Do you want to run away?
18
So Jon's like, What the fuck is going on?
We're in the kitchen. Me and Al are holding our bags and standing there like a prison line-up while he patrols up and down like a sergeant. It's scary how much he reminds me of Mum.
I'm like, Listen, just chill, OK? We just need somewhere to stay for the night and we'll be right out of your way in the morning.
Jon's like, totally not listening, so it's just a waste of my even bothering really. He's like, Are you gonna tell me why the fucking police brought you here? What did you tell them?
He goes on and on and asks so many questions it's like, what do you want, an essay? Finally he calms down a bit and starts breathing like he's suddenly remembered it's something you need to do. The funny thing is he looks kind of cute when he's all angry, and I'm kind of a bit switched. But there's a time and a place and you can be pretty damn sure this isn't either of those things. Then Al lets out this massive stupid yawn, which is so big it looks like she's unhinged her jaw to do it. Jon suddenly notices her and goes, Who are you anyway? Is this your sister?
We're both like, the definition of no. It comes out in unison and then we both start laughing manically, since it is three o'clock and after the whole Death stalker/police experience we're practically hysterical. Jon kind of gives this smirk too, so you can see he's not totally absorbed by the spirit of being anal. He's twenty-two, so he's got maybe a couple more years before the whole concept of fun becomes like, totally alien to him.
He's like, OK, just sit down.
So we sit down and he makes some tea. We keep giggling though, every time we catch each other's eye. It's really bad, 'cos you can tell Jon's seriously worried about this. Finally he brings the tea over and sits down opposite us and goes, So you're running away from home, right?
Al's like, Of course not.
But I'm like, Yeah, because sometimes there's just no point in lying. Jon shakes his head in this way just like Dad does, and I'm a bit freaked by it 'cos being reminded of both your parents in the space of a few minutes by a guy you got off with is pretty weird. It's not at all pleasant, actually.
He's like, I can't believe you came here. Of all places.
I'm like, Sorry, all sarcastic because it's pretty insulting. It's obvious all he cares about is himself, not us, and plus he's still got all those age issues going on.
We can leave if you want, I go. I stand up and nod to Al to do the same. Her eyes go all wide like perfect circles 'cos the idea of going back outside into the ice age doesn't thrill her, but she stands up too. Anyway, of course we're only bluffing. Jon immediately waves his hands in the air like one of those symphony conductors.
Sit down, sit down, he goes, You're not going anywhere.
I'm like, Listen, we'll be out of your hair tomorrow morning, OK? We just need to spend the night here.
Jon's like, But what about your parents?
It's like, Hasslesville, because he won't let it drop, so I end up inventing this whole story about Mum and Dad and how Dad beat me up for being gay and Mum told me she never wanted to see me again for the rest of her life. Jon looks quite impressed by the time I'm finished, and I must say I do a pretty good job 'cos even Al's looking at me like she's wondering if it's all completely made-up.
Jon's like, I'm so sorry.
He reaches across the table and takes my hand in this really tacky way. But the thing is, even though it's tacky it's kind of touching, because he thinks it's all real what I've told him.
I'm like, It's cool, forget about it.
Then Jon remembers Al again. He's like, What about your friend?
We both look at Al. Her face kind of wobbles for a minute and then she starts sobbing. I swear, Al can't act for shit but this time she does me proud. She just goes, I can't even talk about it! and Jon frowns very deeply but nods like he understands. He fetches a box of tissues from the side and gives it to her. She blows her nose like a trumpet and I ask again if we can stay the night.
He's like, Of course, but what you gonna do in the morning?
I'm like, Don't worry about it.
Jon gives me this long look like he's trying to figure something out about me. Maybe it's whether or not I'm lying, I don't know. I'm like, hardly even alive by this point, but I've got to say he's looking pretty sexy. His hair's all tousled and his robe is kind of open a bit so you can see his chest. It's got just a little bit of hair, which I reckon is a massive turn-on. I can't stand full-on gorillas - that would be like getting off with a mound of fur. But if they've got nothing then it's like they're a total baldy. Actually I'm a baldy, but I reckon I've still got a chance of growing some thatch yet.
Anyway, I'm like, returning his look and getting all aroused, and I'm pretty sure he's thinking what I'm thinking, but then this door opens and this other guy comes into the room and goes, What's going on? Who are these people?
This new guy isn't wearing anything except for his Y-fronts, and he's some rare species of gorilla, I'm telling you. It's like, sprouting from every pore. Al's majorly grossed out by it 'cos she jerks her head away like in that scene at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark where they can't look at the light. Despite the whole bodysuit, he's not that bad-looking, this guy, though he's kind of mature. Jon starts explaining that we're friends of his and we're in a bit of trouble and need somewhere to stay. I think it's pretty decent of him to leave out the fact that we're runaways, but maybe this guy he lives with isn't the type who'd deal with it too well. He kind of gives me the eye while Jon's explaining. It's actually a bit gross the way he does it, 'cos he kind of licks his lips too, and even Al, who's normally like, dead to this sort of thing, notices it. She gives me a nudge and makes eyeballs like she can't believe how blatant he's being.
Jon's flatmate is called Buddy. He's cool with us staying the night, and even offers to help make up the living-room. But Jon manages to get him to go back to bed. Then he like, escorts us into the living-room where there's this couch that like, magically turns into a double. We both fall into it like dead people the second he's gone.
I wake up pretty early (like a couple of hours later), and there're all these birds singing outside and I've got a bit of a headache from it. Despite this, and the fact that Al's snoring away next to me like a phlegm factory, I feel kind of excited. It's like we're on the run from the law or something, and it's like anything could happen. Not that anything will, of course, 'cos it's all mapped out. Al made sure of that. We're just gonna look for work and set ourselves up slowly, taking as long as it takes. We both left behind notes. It's pretty naff but that way they kn
ow we've not been kidnapped or murdered or anything, so Mum won't get the police to like, start scanning the whole country for our body parts. I didn't really say anything in my note, apart from that I was going, and thanks for everything, though I don't know what everything is, unless it was like, giving birth to me. I don't think I'll miss any of them - I reckon I got that out of my system that time with the E. Except maybe Grandma, even though she's a total vegetable these days.
It's weird to think about, 'cos they won't have even found the note yet. Mum'll find it tomorrow, when she wonders why I'm not standing to attention at breakfast alongside Teresa. The Nun'll be thrilled, I bet. She's always wanted to be the centre of attention in our house, so good luck to her I say. Maybe she'll even manage to convert everybody.
But I keep thinking back to that argument I overheard them having in whispers, and the way Mum looked at me when she saw me as she came out the kitchen. This like, chilling look. I mean, they were talking some pretty heavy shit, but she looked glad when she saw that I'd been listening. It's just as well I'm out of there really. I'm so sick of the way no one even bothers to stop and think that maybe I see things differently and maybe that's why I don't conform to every last detail around me.
I fall back asleep thinking about this stuff and when I wake up again there's this gorgeous smell of bacon, and my tongue practically shrivels up since I haven't eaten for, like, an era. Al's not next to me and there are mumbling sounds coming from the kitchen. I kind of leap to my feet and throw myself at the door, even though I'm only in my underwear, because Al's useless on her own and it would be just like her to tell Jon all this stuff he doesn't need to know. But Jon's not there, it's Buddy (dressed, thankfully), cooking this fry-up.
He's like, And good morning to you! looking me up and down like I'm for sale or something. Al gives me this weirded-out look.
I'm like, Hi, kind of embarrassed.
Buddy's like, Jon's gone to teach his class at the pond so I said I'd babysit for him.
It's not clear whether he's taking the piss or is just making an innocent joke, so I let it go. But Al looks totally suspicious.
She's like, Don't you have to go to work?
Buddy's like, I'm at work.
Al gives him this look like he could die screaming and she'd happily watch. Buddy seems kind of amused by her.
I work from home, he explains, I'm a website designer.
He's says what he does all self-importantly like he's expecting us to applaud or something, and he looks kind of peeved when we both just nod. I go fetch my T-shirt, since I'm feeling kind of on display, and Buddy dishes us out some fry-up each and we start eating like we've been raised on pellets all our lives. Buddy looks even more amused. He watches us - at least, he watches me. He's like, a total lech. Eventually it gets on my tits.
I'm like, Could you be any more obvious?
He acts all surprised, but he's not embarrassed. He's like, Can't help it if I like what I see, honey.
Al gives him this stare like she can't understand why God hasn't struck Buddy down yet, but I kind of like him for saying that. It's like, why shouldn't he be honest about it? So I shrug at her and start talking to him. He's not so bad either. He asks us how long we're here for and if we fancy a trip into town later and maybe he can show us around. Al keeps shaking her head over and over like she's stuck in a time glitch or something, but I say, Yeah, that would be cool, and Buddy's like, All righty then!
The second we're alone Al hisses at me, What the hell?
I'm like, What? all innocently.
She's like, Can't you see he just wants to bone you! We should get out of here!
I'm like, Settle, petal.
Al's like, You settle! He's just wants to crack on to you! Sometimes you can be so stupid.
She's properly into conniption mode, and can't even sit still. She keeps biting her fingernails, and if you don't know what Al's fingernails look like then you should know that they can't get much shorter.
I'm like, Listen, I'm here for a reason, and that's because I'm sick and tired of being told what I can and can't do. So let's just chill and try to have fun or something.
I don't really see what she can say to that, but being a politicsy type Al's always got something up her sleeve. She's like, I just hope you don't end up old and alone.
I'm like, What the huh?
But she won't say anything else and I can't be bothered to push the issue. In fact, I'm like, Why is she even here if she didn't want to come? I mean, I'm glad and all that she is here, but at the same time it's like, Who wants to be dragged down all the time?
So Buddy drives us around Brighton in his Mercedes (I kid you not, I'm totally planning on becoming a website designer). It's pretty cool, 'cos we listen to the radio and see loads of stuff. It's just nice not to have to go anywhere or anything, just to drift. He doesn't ask many questions either, just tells us all these things he knows. He knows the craziest stuff. Like that 90 per cent of men dribble when they ejaculate and only 10 per cent shoot (I'm like, Based on your experience or what?). He's a pretty witty guy it turns out, and by the time we get to the pier even Al's looking like maybe she's having a shred of fun.
The pier is something else. It's like, totally surreal - I don't know if you know it, but there's this rickety old roller-coaster on it that goes quite high. It's a pretty bizarre thing to have on a pier, over the sea. I remember once coming here on a holiday with Mum and Dad and The Nun back when she wasn't The Nun but like, normal. Me and her must of been about six or seven and Dad tried to persuade us to go on it, but we saw the faces of the people coming off, like the definition of I-want-to-puke, and both refused. Dad was like, Come on! but we were both totally negatory, and so he didn't go on it either and we just got our stupid handwriting analysed by the machines and then all sat on the pebbly beach next to all the other families who thought they would have this great day out just by being close to the sea. Totally lame.
So I decide I like, have to go on this roller-coaster. I figure I owe it to someone, since I didn't go on it that time. Don't ask me who, unless it's Dad. Al's not keen but she agrees when she realises the alternative is being left to stand and watch with Buddy, who she's still dead set is a total perv and who like, declares that he'd rather just jump off the pier than ride with us.
So we get into the carriage and pull the bar down and off we go. The carriage starts to rise, and Fuck Is It Scary. The whole track doesn't seem too stable, 'cos the carriage rickets this way and that like any second we're gonna slip and go falling through the sky. Brighton and the pier and all the beach with the families on it stretches out underneath us like one of those pictorial maps tourists are always looking at in Leicester Square. We get to the top of the first dip and then we teeter there for a second, like we're sat on the edge of the world. Suddenly whoosh, we take off at breakneck speed. It's like we're never ever gonna stop. You should hear Al, 'cos I swear she breaks the sound barrier. There's only two other people on it and they're screaming blue murder as well. I probably am too. You can't not scream because the carriages jerk so hard when you go round a bend that it hurts.
When the thing finally comes to a halt Al looks at me like I'm a spastic or something and goes, Are you OK?
I'm in like, total fountains. I have no idea why. It's like this disease or something, 'cos like I said I'm the sort of person who doesn't cry - though I bet you don't believe me since I've already cried quite a lot. Well, LIC GAS. I'm like, Yeah, a bit weirded 'cos I have no idea what I'm crying for either. It's just the whole feeling like being out of control, I guess. It's kind of liberating but it's kind of sad too and no, I don't know why that is. And if you think it's daft that I don't know, it's because it is daft, and at least don't be thinking I don't know that.
Al's like, Jesus, Jaz. We shouldn't be here. We should go back.
I like, recover in two seconds flat. I wipe my face with my sleeve.
Let's just go home, she says.
You're on your own, Siste
r, I tell her.
Her face becomes, like, this one big frown though, like she's Deeply Troubled. It's the sort of face you dread to see people making, 'cos you can just tell it means they're developing an allergy to humour. Sometimes I just have no idea what's going on in Al's head.
Buddy's pretty amused when we get back to him. He has total fits over my hair, which he says is all 'Bart Simpsonesque'. I'm like, Whatever. I feel tired, as well as pissed off with Al, and I can't be bothered to follow him into the centre and look round the shops or anything. Buddy's pretty tuned in though, 'cos he seems to sense that the whole spirit of adventure has like, died a sudden death, and he says it's time to get back 'co$ he needs to do some work. He gives my arse a pinch as I'm climbing into the car and then looks all innocent when I look at him. Al's like, right behind us and is majorly grossed out, but I'm cool with it 'cos it's like, hey, you are allowed to express yourself from time to time. The way I see it people don't do what they want to do often enough. They just do some alternative which they'd kind of like to do, which isn't the same thing at all, and as a result that thing isn't enough and they end up depressed and annoyed with everyone else around them.
Anyway, we get back and Jon's hanging out in the kitchen waiting for us. You can tell he's a bit pissed off that Buddy took us out. I think maybe he's jealous even, but he doesn't actually say anything. It's just this vibe he gives out. He doesn't actually seem to like Buddy much, 'cos neither of them say Hi or anything. He just goes to us, We need to talk. Then Buddy goes off to work in his study so we end up sitting there at the table with Jon. It's kind of awkward.
I'm like, So how was snorkelling?
I'm only joking, but Jon's like a closed register. He goes, It's windsurfing, like I'm this idiot who can't remember or something. Then he goes, Listen, you guys need to figure this out. I've been thinking about it and the best thing I can come up with is for you to go to the police. They'll put you in touch with a social worker or something.
He looks at us like he's just invented the answer to all our problems. Me and Al look back at him like he's a total moron.
