I shake my head. “I can’t. Too much time has passed.”
He’s not impressed with my answer but doesn’t push me any further. He stands up from the steps we’re sitting on, brushing off his sweats as he does.
“Where are you going?” I ask. I don’t feel like going home and hanging out on my own.
“Down to the testing centre, to see how she did.” I bite the inside of my mouth as he walks away, trying not to blurt out a douchey comment just because I’m jealous my friend has a better relationship with my sister than I do. He stops a couple of metres away. “You should come.”
“She won’t want me there.”
“Do you really think Izzy would have told you she was doing her test if she didn’t want you to be there?”
He has a point.
“Carlington! Stop overthinking it!”
Fuck it. He’s right.
I follow him to the parking lot, climb into my truck, and follow him down to the testing centre, where I see Marcus waiting outside. He looks pleasantly surprised to see us, and I shake his hand as I approach, glad I don’t have to hate the dude on principal just because I thought he was dating my sister. We don’t have to wait long. She comes rushing out fifteen minutes later waving a piece of paper in the air and grinning from ear to ear.
She doesn’t notice us at first, just flings herself at Marcus, pulling him into a hug and thanking him again and again. She startles when she sees us and accepts a congratulatory hug from Matty before turning to me.
This is awkward. “Um…congratulations.”
“Thanks.”
My eyes shift to the side. I don’t know what to say to her. “Sorry for just turning up here. I know you didn’t invite me or anything.”
She shrugs, the smile not budging from her face. “I don’t care that you’re here.”
“How ’bout we all go get some ice cream to celebrate,” Marcus says, looking around at us.
I hesitate, waiting for her response.
“That sounds brilliant,” she says, glancing over at me. “You in?”
Something like relief passes through me. “Yeah. I’m in.”
A couple of days later I’m yawning whilst Rachel bangs on and on about the upcoming maths competition, telling everyone what they need to revise and how they should meet after school for extra practices.
“Are you going to eat?” Paul asks me.
I glance around the table. They all have various forms of lunch trays or Tupperware boxes in front of them. I look over at the lunch line and grimace at the length of it. There’s not long left of the lunch period and by the time I get something, it’ll be time to go to class. “There are too many people.”
Pippa pushes her lunch away from her with a sigh. “I’m too nervous to eat. You can have mine.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Why are you nervous?”
“I have a presentation in English next. I really want to nail it but I suck at public speaking.” She nudges her lunch closer to me. “Knock yourself out. Chicken salad. My mom made it last night.”
I don’t know what makes me do it. Maybe it’s because I’m tired and not thinking properly, maybe because my stomach is grumbling to the point of distraction, or maybe because I’m just too damn lazy to get up and grab my own lunch, but I grab a fork and take a bite of the chicken without a second thought.
I know immediately that it’s a mistake.
A big one.
My throat tightens and blood rushes to my face as I grab the Tupperware box and look down to see the chicken sits aside what looks like a satay dip—a satay dip made of nuts.
The sauce that is touching the chicken, which I’ve just eaten a piece of.
FUCK. FUCK.
I try to control my breathing but my throat almost immediately feels like it’s closing off, and I look around in panic.
“Izzy?” My head turns in slow motion to see Pippa looking at me in concern. “Are you okay?” I try to open my mouth to tell her what’s happening, but I can’t get anything out. I try to reach for my water bottle to take a sip, but my movements are clumsy and I knock the bottle over, spilling water everywhere.
“What’s happening?” Paul’s voice is loud, but I feel like I’m separate from them as I start to wheeze.
This is a bad one, I can already tell—one of the worst I’ve ever had.
“Is she okay?” Rachel screeches from down the table, and I grapple for my bag before I realize it’s pointless.
Pen. I need my EpiPen.
I need to tell them but can’t get the words out.
“ETHAN!” Pippa’s voice shouts out across the cafeteria. I start clawing at my throat, trying to get it to open up as my eyes find his table. He looks up at his name being called and his eyes find mine. It only takes a second before surprise then understanding and finally sheer terror cross his face just as tears form in my eyes.
He jumps up, knocking everything and everyone out of the way without a second thought. He’s at my side in a second.
“Biz! Biz!”
I’m really starting to panic now, wheezing and desperately trying to suck air into my lungs.
“Where’s your bag?”
He doesn’t need to ask; he knows what’s happening. It hasn’t happened for a long time, but he saw me have a reaction to nuts when we were children. He’s seen me go into anaphylactic shock before. He reaches for my black bag on the seat next to me and tips the contents out on the floor, searching through them frantically. “Where is it?” He’s muttering to himself, completely focussed on his task. “Where is it, Biz?”
I start to cry as my throat swells even more, if possible. I try to shake my head to tell him it’s not there—that I stupidly emptied my bag out this morning when looking for my keys and only bothered to put my books for the day back into it—but I can’t speak. I can’t speak anymore.
“Dammit!” Ethan’s voice is starting to get panicky, desperate, and I feel people crowding around me, Finn crouching down next to me, talking to me softly, words I can’t hear as he grips my shoulder, and Matty coming in closer. Someone shouts that they’re going to get the nurse and the lunch staff rush forwards, trying to see if they can help.
“Where’s my bag?” Ethan shouts, looking around, ignoring the crowd of people who are all watching silently, staring as I struggle to breathe and get air into my lungs. I’m going to be okay. I’m going to be okay. “Get me my bag.”
There’s a scuffle around me as people jump to follow his orders.
“You’re fine, Biz. You’re fine,” he tells me over and over again, and if I didn’t feel like I would lose consciousness, I would almost laugh at him repeating my mantra back to me. “Don’t you dare do this. Don’t you dare do this to me. Don’t you dare.”
His bag is thrown down beside me just as I start to get dizzy. I’m seconds from blacking out when I watch him dump it out onto the floor, swipe up the EpiPen that rolls towards me, pull off the safety cap, and then plunge it into my outer thigh through my jeans.
The relief is immediate.
I slump forwards in my seat, my head falling into my hands as I suck in huge mouthfuls of air. It takes a couple of minutes of deep breaths whilst someone rubs reassuring circles on my back before I start to feel even remotely normal again.
That was horrible.
“You fucking idiot!”
My head snaps up at the harsh words and I wince at the sudden movement as I see Ethan stood over me.
He moves towards me, like he’s going to push me or something, and it’s only Matty holding out an arm and pulling him back that stops him from advancing on me. “You stupid fucking idiot, Biz.”
“Stop it, Ethan,” Finn snaps. “Not now.”
“Who did it? Who gave my sister nuts?”
The eyes of the people at the table fly to Pippa, who looks absolutely mortified. “I didn’t…I didn’t know.”
“Look at her,” Ethan commands. “Look at what happens to her if she eats nuts.”
&nb
sp; Tears spring to her eyes and she starts to tremble slightly.
“It wasn’t her fault,” I manage to spit out, still struggling to catch my breath. And it wasn’t. I always, always check what’s in the food I’m eating. I don’t know why I didn’t today.
“I’m sorry,” Pippa whispers quietly, but I shake my head, dismissing her apology. She hasn’t done anything wrong, and Ethan will see that when he calms down. I make a mental note to make sure he apologises to her later.
“Why haven’t you got your pen on you?” he demands.
I raise my shoulders. There’s no excuse for it, none at all. It doesn’t matter that I haven’t had a reaction in years. I know how bad it can be when I do, and I know I should have one on me at all times. I go to stand as people start to drift away, the show over.
“Why?” Ethan demands again, getting right in my face. “Why the hell wouldn’t you have it with you?”
“Ethan!” Finn snaps, pushing him away from me. “Leave her alone.”
“I thought…” His voice trails off, and for the first time, I get a proper look at him. His whole body is shaking, and when he goes to push his hair back off his face, I can see his hand is shaking and he has tears streaming down his face. “I thought you were going to… I can’t handle that, Biz. Not you too.”
He thought the worst. Whilst I don’t think I ever thought it was that bad, my allergy reaction is pretty severe, and I’ve heard plenty of horror stories over the years where people have died.
“You can’t do that to me, Biz.” His voice catches. “You can’t do that.”
“I’m sorry.” My voice is too quiet.
He’s shaking his head, pacing the floor, the adrenaline in his body keeping him going. He’s one tense, fiery ball of rage right now.
“Ethan.”
He’s not listening to me, too lost in his own thoughts, and if he’s thinking about losing Mum and all the dark places that will take him, I need to snap him out of it.
“Carly.”
He freezes at the word and slowly turns back to face me. I haven’t called him that in years. When we were little, we were called the Carlington twins all the time, but I didn’t like that so instead I called us the Carly twins, and for a while that’s what I called him too…mainly because I realised it made him mad to be called a girl’s name, but also because I thought it matched my name better and I wanted us to be the same. I always wanted us to be just the same.
“I’m sorry.”
His pale face turns towards me.
“I promise I won’t do it again.”
Another tear streaks down his face and guilt overwhelms me.
“I’m sorry, Ethan. I’m really sorry.”
Finally he nods and comes towards me, pushing Finn away from me and taking my arm. “Come on. I’ll take you down to the emergency room.”
“Now hold on there, son.” His coach jumps in, and when I look around, I see several teachers stood back, making sure I’m okay from a distance, not wanting to interfere. “I’m sure there’s no need for you to take her down there. The school nurse or one of her friends can go with her, right?”
Ethan looks back at his coach in disbelief.
“We have practice after school for the big game on Friday. I need you there.”
Ethan’s lip curls in disgust and he reaches towards my bag, which Logan is holding out for him, having shoved all of my things back into it.
He doesn’t even bother to respond. Instead he takes my arm and gently leads me through the remaining students out the entrance, refusing anyone else’s—even his friends’—help. Ethan’s determined. The only one who is going to take me to the hospital is him and him alone.
The kitchen is a disaster. It looks like I’ve used every single pot and pan in the room, and there are bits of food and rubbish everywhere. I use the back of my hand to brush a lock of hair that’s fallen out of my ponytail from my face and make my way over to the sink to wash my hands, squirting handwash into my palm and scrubbing them clean of the gravy I’ve managed to splash on them.
I’m weirdly nervous. I’m worried the Yorkshire puddings haven’t risen enough and the gravy is too lumpy, afraid the roast potatoes aren’t as crispy as Mum used to get them. I never realised how hard it is to get the timing right on a roast dinner, having to make sure all the meat, vegetables, potatoes, and gravy are cooked and ready at the same time. I sigh as I look around. It smells good and familiar and like home. My stomach growls in anticipation, and I’m surprised at how happy it’s made me to cook this meal. My mum used to make a Sunday roast every single Sunday, even though it was only for the two of us, and then we’d have the leftovers in sandwiches the next day. She used to make it look so easy, never burnt anything or messed up the timings on the dishes.
The front door slams open and my heartbeat picks up when I hear Ethan and his friends talking loudly. I don’t know why I feel like this. It’s not a big deal. People cook food for their family all the time, but somehow this feels like more than that. This feels like an olive branch, one I’m trying to hold out because today is the first time he’s left the house since Wednesday because he was too scared I was going to get sick again even though I (along with the doctors) assured him I was fine. He was supposed to be playing in a football game last night, but he told them to put the backup in because he wouldn’t be there, despite his coach’s anger. Even though I know he cares about me and was terrified when I had my reaction, I can’t help but think that because of the way I’ve treated him, I don’t deserve for him to accept my peace offering.
“Dude, what’s that smell?”
They’re out in the hallway, but I can almost see him looking around in surprise and sniffing the air. It’s Maria’s day off, so he knows she wouldn’t be cooking today, and even if she were, it would be some delicious spicy Mexican food she was making, not roast beef with potatoes and gravy.
“I don’t know.” His voice sounds uncertain.
They clatter down the hall, their feet hitting the marble of the floor, and I look up just as Ethan appears in the door of the kitchen. He stops dead at the sight in front of him, Finn, Matty, and Logan banging into him from behind.
“Whoa!” Matty exclaims, looking around at the state of things. “What did you do?”
“This smells amazing,” Finn tells me. I glance at him quickly and he sends me a small smile. I never know where I am with Finn, whether he’s pissed off with me or not, but right now it’s evident he’s trying to encourage me.
Ethan’s eyes find mine. “You cooked?”
I nod my head, trying to not feel self-conscious that they’re all staring at me.
Ethan’s gaze drops from me and towards the stove, where I’ve taken out the joint of beef and am letting it rest on the top. He looks around and takes in the roast potatoes, the carrots, the stuffing, and then his gaze lands on the Yorkshire puddings. He looks back at me in disbelief. “Are they Yorkshire puddings?”
I bite my lip. I can’t believe how nervous I feel all of sudden. This is just Ethan. He’s my brother. He’s the person I’ve treated like crap for the last few months…but suddenly I really don’t want him to dismiss this gesture. “Yeah,” I say. “I mean they’re probably not as good as Mum’s, but I followed her recipe.”
He steps towards the stove, his eyes roaming over all the food. He stops by the pan of gravy and stirs the mixture inside it. He glances back at me. “Is this her onion gravy too?”
I nod, and I swear he’s blinking away tears. I suddenly feel like the world’s biggest bitch. I enjoyed this meal with our mum every Sunday. We hardly ever missed one, but he only got to do this when he was visiting, and more often than not they’d have plans, so a relaxed Sunday roast for him was a treat, something he did with his mum that I easily could have done for him before now.
“You really made a Sunday roast?” Ethan asks, like he can’t quite believe his eyes.
“Yeah, I did.”
There’s laughter from the doorway and I
almost jump at the sound of it. I forgot they were there. They’ve been standing there quietly watching us, somehow figuring out that this is a big deal, not just someone throwing food together for their brother.
Logan’s grinning at me. “Biz, you know it’s not Sunday, right?”
I smirk. Can he believe I figured that out? “I know,” I tell them with a roll of my eyes. I glance back at Ethan. “I just know you go to Finn’s for cookouts every Sunday, so I thought I’d make it today.” I gesture at his friends. “There’s enough for everyone.” There definitely is. I’ve made enough for ten people. “And I dunno, I thought we could watch movies after like we used to.” That thought only just occurred to me. I realize I don’t want to go out tonight. I don’t want to drink and party and forget everything. Tonight I want to stay in and watch movies, and if my brother and his friends want to stay with me then it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.
He looks surprised at this. “You don’t want to go out and party?”
I shake my head. “Actually, I haven’t really been drinking since I went to that bar with Jessica ages ago. Haven’t taken anything either. Not even smoked.”
He still doesn’t say anything to that, but I can see the wheels turning in his head as he tries to remember if I’ve rolled in drunk recently and woken him up. After a minute, I suddenly feel stupid. As if one meal can make up for the fact that despite the way I’ve treated him, he still refused to leave the house after my allergic reaction.
“You know, it’s stupid,” I tell him, moving away and picking up a dishcloth, starting to wipe up the mess I’ve created on the surfaces. “Don’t worry about it. You guys probably have plans.”
“Biz.”
I don’t look at him. I don’t want to look at his face as he rejects me. “Ethan, it’s fine. It was a dumb idea.”
“Biz—”
“Honestly, don’t worry about it.”
“Biz!” He breaks in, laughing. “I don’t have other plans.”
I stop and turn to look at him. This is so much more than us eating together. This is a peace offering, a new beginning. “Yeah?”
All That's Been Said Page 18
