Casting Shadows

by Sophie McKenzie

  I leaned back against the wall of the commune, breathing a sigh of relief. At least James was safe.

  And then Flynn tore out of the back door. He stopped as he saw me. ‘Was that James’s car?’ he hissed.

  I nodded.

  Flynn swore. He punched the wall with the side of his fist. ‘I’ll freakin’ get him tomorrow,’ he spat. ‘I’ll go down there and drag him out of wherever he hides his sorry—’

  ‘It wasn’t his fault.’ The words blurted out of me. I couldn’t let James take the blame like this. The last thing I wanted was to explain properly what I’d done but I couldn’t stand by and watch Flynn and James’s friendship fall apart over a lie.

  ‘What are you talking about? You said he tried to kiss you.’

  ‘No.’ I shook my head. ‘No. It wasn’t like that.’ I shivered. ‘Look, Flynn, can’t we go to bed and talk about it in the morning.’

  I gazed up at him, hoping against hope that somehow we could curl up and hold each other and that he would calm down and that I could explain properly.

  Flynn punched the wall again. ‘No, we freakin’ can’t talk about it in the morning.’ He glanced up at the house. The light was still on at the end of the first floor. Dad and Gemma’s room.

  ‘Come on.’ He gripped me round the wrist and dragged me back down to the barn. Several of the lamps had gone out, leaving the building feeling darker and colder than before. Flynn swung me in front of him and crossed his arms. ‘Tell me exactly what happened.’

  20

  I took a deep breath and told Flynn everything, starting with how upset I’d been when I saw the faked data on Facebook about him stealing iPads.

  ‘I thought you’d been lying to me, that you didn’t care about me anymore, so I went to this club with Emmi and Grace and James.’ I went on, emphasising how much I’d drunk, both before and after arriving at the club. I told him how Slug Tongue had charted me up and bought me yet more drinks – and how, when I realised what he was after, I’d run away from him.

  I finally got to the part of my story where James and I had got into the minicab.

  ‘So remember I was really drunk. And James was trying to be nice. Trying to look after me, like you’d have wanted him to. Once we were in the cab, I realised how totally out of it I was . . . how I should just shut up . . . but I couldn’t stop myself from talking and . . . and I asked James if you were with anyone else.’

  ‘Why would you have asked that?’ Flynn demanded.

  ‘Because when your Facebook account was hacked whoever did it put up that fake photoshopped picture of you with a girl, remember?’

  ‘I remember,’ Flynn said, his eyes boring into me. ‘That was just a stupid, faked picture.’

  ‘I know but . . . I was asking James whether you were with her and I hated myself for doing it . . . I thought he’d go straight and tell you. But I had to know. And when he said you weren’t with anyone else I didn’t believe him. And I got upset. And he was nice but embarrassed. And then I thought about that disgusting guy who’d tried to kiss me. And . . . and how it had made me feel sick. And I wanted . . .’

  I stopped talking. Only one light was still burning in the barn now. I had no idea what time it was but I knew it was very late. I was tired, so tired. And way beyond cold. I hadn’t been able to feel my feet for the last half an hour.

  I looked up at Flynn. His forehead was screwed up in a frown.

  ‘What did you want?’ His voice was icy.

  ‘I wanted to know . . . I know it sounds stupid but I wanted to know if it was always going to be like that. If kissing other guys was always going to make me feel sick . . .’

  ‘So . . .?’

  I gulped. ‘So I asked James to kiss me.’

  Flynn stood stock-still in front of me, his eyes on fire.

  ‘And did he?’

  ‘Not at first.’ I blushed, remembering how I’d put my face right up to his, then put my lips on his. How I’d laughed. How the movement of my lips laughing had turned into a kiss. ‘We just moved closer and it . . . it happened.’

  Flynn’s whole body shuddered. ‘You kissed each other.’

  ‘For about one second,’ I pleaded. ‘Then I remembered Grace and—’

  ‘Grace?’ Flynn took a step away from me. ‘You remembered Grace?’

  ‘She was there and I thought you’d stolen Alex’s iPad and might be going out with that girl in the picture.’ Tears welled up and squeezed out of my eyes. This was coming out all wrong. Fear gripped me around the throat.

  ‘I thought you said you never doubted me.’ Flynn took another step away. His eyes burned, his breathing was laboured. ‘You said you trusted me.’ He turned and paced across the barn floor.

  ‘I did.’ I was sobbing now, wringing my hands. ‘I do. Please, Flynn, I love you. I was drunk. I’m sorry, I didn’t know what I was doing.’

  Flynn spun round. ‘That’s what my da said after every time he hit my mum. “I’m sorry, I was drunk, I didn’t know what I was doing.”’

  I stared at him, my whole body shivering.

  ‘You know what else he said?’ Flynn went on. ‘That it would never happen again. But, guess what, it always did.’

  ‘But that’s different,’ I said.

  Flynn shook his head. ‘I left everything to be here with you. I left my mum, my family, my school. For months I’ve put up with your dad patronising the crap out of me. With this stupid commune and all its stupid rules and its hippy-shit politics. All for you, River.’

  ‘I thought you liked it here.’ I stared at him. ‘You never said you thought it was stupid.’

  ‘I told you a million times,’ Flynn spat. ‘I called it the drop-out centre. Remember? But once I lived here, I bit my tongue about it, every day. Because you were here. And I didn’t want to make it hard for you. Because I thought . . .’ His voice cracked. ‘I went to a new school. I went to those stupid anger management sessions. All of it total rubbish. I put up with that creep Leo. I even told him to tell me if anyone gave him a hard time, so I could stop him getting beaten up.’

  I thought of the guys I’d seen earlier.

  ‘And d’you know why I did all that? Even though I was dying to get Leo back for acting so loved-up around you all the time? Because of you. Because I couldn’t bear the thought of you getting cross with me about it. Because I didn’t want to upset you.’ Flynn’s face crumpled. He turned away from me.

  I crept round to face him. Tears were welling up in his eyes. I reached up to touch his cheek.

  ‘Please, Flynn,’ I wept. ‘It was a meaningless kiss. Grace knows – James told her – and she isn’t angry.’

  ‘It’s different,’ Flynn said flatly, pushing my hand away. ‘James was honest. He didn’t let her find out like this.’

  ‘Yes, but . . . but I’d have told you too, except I knew you’d overreact and—’

  ‘You think I’m overreacting?’ A tear trickled down Flynn’s cheek. He brushed it angrily away. I’d only ever seen him cry once before, after he’d beaten up his dad. My body twisted up inside.

  ‘James was my best friend, River.’ Flynn’s voice cracked. ‘My only real friend. And you . . .’

  I tried to pull him towards me, but he stood there rigidly.

  ‘I’m so, so sorry,’ I whispered. ‘Please let’s go up to bed and curl up and hold each other. And . . .’

  ‘I can’t.’ Flynn strode over to the nearest wall and leaned back against it. ‘I can’t . . .’

  I walked over and leaned beside him. ‘Please. We can—’

  ‘Don’t you understand?’ Flynn’s mouth trembled. ‘I can’t stop seeing you kissing him.’ He thumped his forehead. ‘It’s in here, now.’

  I shrank back against the wall. ‘I love you,’ I sobbed. I couldn’t think what else to say. ‘I love you. I love you.’

  ‘You’re a liar,’ he said.

  ‘Don’t talk to her like that.’ Leo’s voice echoed round the room.

  We both looked round. He
was standing in the doorway, shaking, his white shirt completely covered in mud.

  Flynn charged across the barn. ‘Get out!’ he yelled. ‘This is none of your business.’

  ‘No.’ Leo’s face was white with terror. ‘I’m not going without River. Not unless I know she’s safe.’

  Flynn pushed him in the chest. Leo stumbled backwards. A new fear lurched inside me. Flynn would never hurt me but Leo was an easy target.

  ‘I told you to get out,’ Flynn shouted.

  ‘Leo, I’m okay,’ I said. ‘Please go.’

  ‘No.’ Leo clenched his fists. ‘Not if he’s bullying you. I won’t go without you . . .’

  ‘Don’t you dare talk about me like I’m not even here,’ Flynn snarled. He turned to me. ‘Been kissing him too, have you?’

  ‘No, of course I haven’t.’

  ‘Leave her alone,’ Leo yelled.

  Thwack. With a sickening crunch Flynn’s fist sank into Leo’s jaw Leo spun right round on himself and collapsed onto the ground. Flynn stood over him, fists clenched, panting.

  I ran over. Leo knelt up, holding his mouth. Blood was pouring out from between his fingers.

  I stared at Flynn. And in that moment I suddenly realised how little I’d understood him. Anger and a harsh, ruthless pride were in his bones. He was never going to change.

  ‘Leo didn’t hurt anyone,’ I said, my whole body trembling.

  Flynn just looked at me. For a second the fury in his eyes subsided and they shone a soft, agonised gold, full of longing and hurt and love. And then, as I watched, they hardened into cold pinpricks of a rage I couldn’t begin to understand.

  ‘Well, he’s all yours now,’ he said quietly. And then he turned and walked out of the barn.

  I bent down over Leo. Are you all right?’

  He stood up shakily. Blood was still pouring down his face. I put my arm round his waist. ‘Come on, let’s get you up to the house.’

  We walked quickly up to the kitchen. I grabbed a tea towel and some ice and told Leo to press them against his mouth. Then I ran upstairs and knocked on Dad and Gemma’s door.

  Dad answered in his bathrobe. ‘Hey, Riv, how’s it going? Everything sounded quiet. I was just coming down to check . . .’ He glanced at my dress. ‘Hey, sweetheart, what’s the matter? Is that blood?’

  ‘There was a fight.’ I caught my breath, unable to say Flynn’s name. ‘Leo’s been hurt.’

  I turned away to go back to Leo. As I glanced at our room, I wondered where Flynn was. There was no sound from inside and no light seeping under the door.

  Dad and Gemma followed me down the stairs. Dad whistled when he saw Leo, while Gemma fetched the first-aid box from one of the kitchen cupboards. Dad tried to see inside Leo’s mouth but there was too much blood.

  ‘Leo’s dad came in at about one, I think, River,’ Dad said. ‘Would you fetch him, please?’

  I raced up to Leo’s apartment. The commune felt eerily still now the party was over. I still couldn’t see Flynn anywhere. Where was he?

  Leo’s dad was fast asleep. It took me a full minute of banging on his apartment door to wake him, then he stumbled after me to the kitchen. Leo was still sitting at the table, white-faced, while Gemma dabbed at his face.

  Leo’s dad paled at the sight of all the blood.

  I’m fine, Dad,’ Leo said quickly.

  ‘I think he is but we’re going to have to take him to casualty,’ Gemma said. ‘He needs to be properly examined. He might need a stitch or something.’

  ‘Who hit you?’ Leo’s dad asked, reaching for his son’s arm.

  It struck me that this was the first time I’d ever seen them touch.

  Leo shook his head. He kept his gaze on the floor.

  ‘For Pete’s sake,’ his dad said.

  Gemma rested her hand on his shoulder. ‘Hospital first, questions later,’ she said.

  A minute later Gemma and Leo’s dad took Leo off in the car. Dad looked at me curiously. ‘Are you all right, River?’

  I nodded. Surely enough time had passed now for Flynn to have calmed down a bit. Maybe if I tried to explain again . . .

  ‘I’m fine, Dad, just a bit wired. I’ll be up in a second.’

  ‘Okay.’ Dad gave me a hug and padded off to bed.

  I called Flynn’s mobile. It was switched off, so I began searching the house for him. I was sure he wasn’t outside anywhere. I’d been so close to the kitchen door while Gemma was examining Leo that I’d have heard if he’d gone out to the barn or the meadow again.

  But Flynn wasn’t in the house. I looked in our flat, then in all the communal rooms. I found a couple of partygoers asleep in the downstairs office and Stone snoring loudly on the living room couch but the rest of the communal rooms were empty.

  I went back to our room and sat on the mattress.

  And that’s when I realised. Flynn’s drawer – the middle one in the chest of drawers – was half open. I was sure it hadn’t been left like that earlier. My heart was in my mouth as I stumbled across the room to look inside. The drawer was empty.

  I darted across the room to the big trunk in the corner where we put our bags and school books. Flynn’s bag was gone. Terrified now, I raced over to the hanging rail. My clothes were draped across it, though not in the same way they had been earlier. I tore them down. Empty hangers clattered to the floor. I looked around and gasped. Flynn’s football boots and running shoes and other bits and pieces – all the things most useful or important to him – were no longer here.

  I staggered over to the bed, unable to take it in.

  He can’t be gone. He can’t. He must be here somewhere. He’s just angry. Trying to scare me. I sank onto the bed. He’s coming back. He’s coming back.

  I sat on the covers, hunched over my knees. I caught sight of the framed photo he had given me earlier. It was on the other side of the bed from where I’d left it, face down, as if someone had kicked it over the bed. I picked it up. Miraculously the glass was still intact, though a little of the frame had been chipped away.

  I placed the photo back beside the bed where it had originally stood.

  Any minute he’ll walk back in. Any second.

  I didn’t want to be asleep when he came back, so I sat up against the cold, hard wall, still in my clothes.

  Waiting.

  21

  I woke with a jolt. It was still dark but I hadn’t drawn the curtains last night and the sky was lighter than when I’d fallen asleep.

  I twisted round so quickly I almost cricked my neck.

  No Flynn.

  I lay still for a moment, my body tensing as I remembered everything that had happened last night. I was on top of the covers, slumped sideways across the bed. Freezing cold.

  I got up and found my phone. No texts or missed calls. I called Flynn but his mobile was still switched off, with no option to leave a message. I sent a text saying to please, please call me. I took the phone to the bathroom but he didn’t call back. I had a pee, then a drink of water, then padded back to bed.

  The whole house was silent.

  I got under the covers, feeling strangely numb. I put the phone by the bed.

  He’s here somewhere. He’s just punishing you. He’ll be back.

  It took me ages to warm up and even longer to fall asleep again.

  I woke up slowly this time. Light was pouring in through the window. I could feel the warmth of it on my eyelids. I lay there for a second feeling happy. I imagined opening my eyes, seeing Flynn’s face on the pillow beside me, feeling his hand stroking my cheek.

  And then I remembered.

  My eyes snapped open. The pillow next to mine was empty.

  There was a soft tapping on the door.

  ‘River?’

  The tapping got slightly louder, then Leo’s head poked round the door. I gasped at the sight of his face. The area round the left side of his lip was swollen and bruised. Even from the bed I could see where the lip was cut.

  ‘Are you all r
ight?’ Leo tiptoed over. He was dressed in jeans and a jumper. His face was even paler than usual and there were dark rings under his eyes.

  I stared at him. No. I’m not all right.

  Leo got within a metre or so of the mattress, then stopped. He shuffled awkwardly from side to side. ‘I’m fine. Just a cut lip,’ he muttered. ‘I was . . . I was so worried about you. I knew you wouldn’t want me to say anything about Flynn. I told Dad it was some guys I didn’t know who’d crashed the party . . .’

  My eyes filled with tears as I remembered Flynn’s face after he’d punched Leo. Then all the blood. I looked down at the stain on my dress. I looked up. Leo was staring at the blood too. He caught my eye and blushed.

  ‘Sorry for bleeding all over you.’ He touched his swollen lip. ‘Has Flynn gone?’

  I nodded again. Then I turned my face away, not wanting Leo to see me cry.

  I could hear him padding back across the room and pulling open the door. It creaked. ‘Er . . . I’m going to tell your dad you’re awake,’ he said hesitantly. ‘I know he’s worried about you seeing me beaten up.’

  He left, shutting the door behind him.

  I lay on my back, pulling the covers up around my neck. I stared up at the ceiling. Beaten up. Was that what Flynn had done to Leo? My heart told me it was. That punching him had been entirely unprovoked.

  A few minutes later Dad came in. He sat down on the edge of the mattress. ‘River? Are you okay?’

  I nodded, not meeting his eyes.

  ‘What happened last night? Leo told me some of it but there’s stuff he’s keeping back. Stuff to do with you, I think.’ He looked round the room. And where’s Flynn?’

  I shrugged.

  Out of the corner of my eye I could see Dad frowning. ‘River, please, I’m worried about you. Did something happen to Flynn? Was he involved in this incident with Leo? Where is he?’

  I shrugged again. He’s coming back. He’s coming back.

  Dad sighed. The floor creaked as he stood up. ‘I’ll be back in a bit.’

  He left. I lay there for a few more minutes, wondering where Flynn was. The fact that he’d taken most of his possessions suggested he had left the commune, at least for a while. I tried to work out where he could have gone with no money in the middle of the night. What would have been open? Who would have taken him in? Maybe one of his football buddies? My heart ached as I imagined him alone and trudging down the road towards Norton, where our college was. It was over two miles away. He could have got too cold to walk. Or twisted his ankle. Or been attacked by some gang.