Apple and Rain

by Sarah Crossan

  ‘You’re only being nice because you’re scared I’m going to spoil everything, and then you won’t get to make out with that boy you’ve got a crush on.’

  ‘I don’t want to make out with anyone.’

  Rain looks at me sceptically. ‘Sure.’

  Mum sits on the couch, tucks her bare feet under her bum, and turns on the TV. ‘We’re having a party on Saturday whether you like it or not, so get over it.’

  Rain stomps off to our room.

  ‘There she goes again,’ Mum says. ‘What’s wrong with her?’

  I unplug the iron and put it away. Watching Rain using it was making me nervous. ‘Maybe she should go back to the doctor,’ I say.

  Mum nods. ‘Maybe. But I can’t work out this country’s health system at all. I think I have to register with a local GP first or something.’

  ‘You do,’ I say. And she has to register me too, now I don’t live on the other side of town with Nana.

  ‘What a drag. I need a beer. Get me one would you, Apple,’ Mum says.

  I go to the fridge and take out a cold green bottle. ‘Don’t you want some spaghetti first?’ I ask. I made it when I got home from school, so it’s already gone cold.

  Mum shakes her head. ‘No thanks. I should’ve told you that I’m not a fan of pasta. Do we have any chocolate digestives?’

  I try to hide my disappointment. ‘We have custard creams,’ I say.

  ‘Pass the packet here,’ Mum says. ‘And don’t forget the beer.’

  29

  By seven o’clock on Saturday we’ve laid out a spread of olives, cheeses, baguettes and hummus. I’m so nervous I can’t eat or drink anything. I’m wearing one of Mum’s short black dresses with a pair of her high-heeled shoes again. Even though from the side you can see my stomach popping out, from the front I look OK.

  Mum hands me a coral-coloured lipstick. ‘Smack a bit of that on,’ she says. I go down to the bathroom to use the mirror.

  Rain is in there. She’s lying in the bath with Jenny. There is no water in the bath and they’ve both got clothes on, but it’s obvious Rain’s been crying; there are maroon circles beneath her eyes; her cheeks are dappled pink.

  ‘What’s happened?’ I ask. I wish she could be normal for one night.

  She turns Jenny’s face to me. It’s covered in red dots. Rain asked to use my felt-tip pens earlier and this must have been why. ‘Jenny’s sick,’ she says.

  ‘What?’ I gaze at the limp doll in Rain’s hands.

  ‘We have to go to the hospital. She could have the measles.’

  I want to scream and tell her that Jenny’s only a plastic doll and that she’s crazy for believing otherwise. Egan Winters will be here any minute and she’s basically ruining my life. But I don’t scream or say any of those things because I know that would make it worse. The only way out of this is to be very nice to her.

  ‘That’s definitely not measles,’ I say. ‘It looks like an allergy.’

  ‘An allergy?’ Rain examines the dots on Jenny’s face like she’s seeing them for the first time. Like she wasn’t the one to put them there in the first place.

  ‘Yeah. I had a rash a few days ago. I think it’s because Mum bought that cheap washing powder.’

  ‘Laundry detergent?’

  ‘Laundry detergent, exactly.’ I hold out my hands. ‘Give Jenny here to me a minute. I’ve got some spray in my school bag that’ll make her all better. I promise.’

  ‘I’ll get it,’ she says. She hands Jenny over, hops out of the bath, and pounds up the hall. Anyone would think she was seriously worried. It’s so strange and sad I can’t help holding the doll tight against me and kissing its head. She smells of Rain – a bit biscuity.

  I lock the bathroom door and break off a few pieces of toilet roll. I poke around underneath the sink. When I find the nail varnish remover, I soak the toilet roll with it and rub Jenny’s face. Hard. I feel a bit bad – I’d hate to have someone rub nail varnish remover all over my face. Then I think about Egan Winters who could be on his way up our stairs right this second and rub even harder. After a minute, Jenny’s face is clean of marks and Rain is banging on the bathroom door.

  ‘I’m peeing,’ I shout.

  ‘I can’t find any medicine in your bag,’ Rain says.

  ‘It was actually in here all along. Wait a second.’ I squirt Mum’s tulip-scented body spray over Jenny’s face and rub it in with my thumbs. Then I flush the toilet and open the door.

  ‘It’s working already,’ I say. I hand Jenny over.

  Rain sniffs. ‘What’s that smell?’

  ‘Huh?’ I turn to the mirror and carefully dab my lips with the coral lipstick.

  ‘Where’s the medicine? Are you sure it’s safe for babies?’ Rain is studying Jenny’s clear face, unbelieving.

  ‘I’m sure. But I’m such a twit I managed to drop it in the toilet before I flushed it. I’ll have to get some more.’

  When I turn around, Rain is examining me. She doesn’t look afraid and miserable now. But she isn’t happy either.

  ‘What?’ I ask.

  She blinks. ‘Nothing,’ she says.

  When Mum’s friends arrive, they stand by the open window smoking roll-ups. The neighbours from downstairs, who Mum invited because they’re students and would make the crowd seem a bit younger, sit on the kitchen counter drinking whisky and talking loudly about ‘the nature of reality’. Egan Winters isn’t here yet even though it’s almost nine o’clock. Mum tells me not to worry. ‘He’ll be here. I have a feeling,’ she says. ‘Where’s your sister?’

  ‘Jenny wasn’t well, so . . .’

  ‘Be careful or she’ll have you convinced that thing’s real,’ Mum says.

  At that moment Egan Winters appears at the top of our stairs along with two other boys from the sixth form.

  Mum charges towards them and throws her arms around Egan. He smiles awkwardly. I totter over in my heels.

  ‘This is Andrew and that’s Dean,’ Egan says.

  His friends grunt.

  ‘Come on in. It’s a manky night out there, isn’t it? Glad you could make it. Now, what’s it to be, beer or wine?’ Mum asks.

  ‘Beer,’ Egan says.

  ‘Yeah, beer,’ the other two say.

  Mum turns and bumps into me as she goes to get the drinks. ‘Egan’s here,’ she says.

  Egan looks at me, taking in what I’m wearing. His eyes linger on my chunky legs for a second. I pull at the hem of the dress.

  ‘All right?’ he says.

  I nod. ‘Yeah.’ And we stand in silence until Mum comes back with three wet beer bottles.

  ‘How did you get here?’ Mum asks.

  ‘I just passed my test, so I drove,’ Egan says. He looks at his beer guiltily. ‘I’ll have half this bottle.’

  ‘Do I look like the police?’ Mum says. She’s trying to be funny and even though there isn’t anything funny about drink-driving, Andrew and Dean laugh and nudge each other.

  Egan is looking at Mum with a half-smile. I can’t tell if that means he thinks she’s cool or something else. That’s the only bad thing about Egan Winters – you can never tell what he’s thinking.

  I stand listening while Mum keeps the boys entertained. They talk about cars and music and films, and it’s all great because they’re in my flat and talking to my mum, but I don’t get half of what they’re saying: the films are all 15s or 18s, which I haven’t seen; I never listen to music except boy band stuff that Pilar has on her iPhone; and I don’t drive. I probably seem like a stupid kid in my mum’s clothes, trying to act like a grown-up.

  ‘I’m going to mix myself a cocktail. Anyone want one?’ I ask.

  The boys all look at their beers and shake their heads. ‘If you’re making calimocho, sign me up,’ Mum says. ‘Go easy on the Coke.’

  I make two glasses of calimocho, one with extra red wine for Mum. When I get back to the huddle, Egan Winters is telling her about where he wants to go to university. Warwick, apparently, wh
ich I’ve never heard of. ‘My brother goes there, so I’ve visited it loads,’ he explains.

  ‘That’s swell,’ Mum says, her American accent coming out again. She’s probably bored listening to Egan Winters, but you can’t tell. She looks completely captivated which makes him talk and talk and talk. I’m not used to hearing his voice but it’s nice – deep and kind of soft for a boy, like what he’s saying is really serious even when he’s talking about something that isn’t. His two friends aren’t chatty. Andrew finishes his beer quickly then stands chewing on a crust of baguette. Dean grabs another beer and is already halfway through it.

  Someone waving a roll-up calls Mum to the window. ‘I gotta mingle. You guys help yourselves to drinks and food. You’ll be safe with Apple,’ Mum says. She gives me this long look. I know I’m meant to understand what it means, but I don’t. When she wanders off, I stand there speechless.

  ‘Do you want some olives?’ I ask.

  Egan chews his bottom lip, almost twitchily, and finishes his beer. I’ve never been close enough to notice his eyes before – creamy brown like freshly fallen conkers. ‘We stopped for kebabs before we got here,’ Egan says. ‘Can I have a Coke or something?’

  ‘Yes, yes of course,’ I say. I almost fall over, clambering to the fridge to get him a can before he changes his mind and goes home.

  He takes it from me and flicks the ring pull. ‘Got a glass?’

  ‘Oh yeah, sorry.’

  ‘I’ll get it, don’t worry,’ he says. He puts his hand on my arm and my stomach clenches. He goes off to find a glass. But he doesn’t come back and stand with me; he edges his way to the window where Mum and her smoking friends are laughing and clinking glasses. After a few minutes he is laughing and clinking with them. I’m stuck with his friends who are now on to the subject of video games. They are comparing tactics for getting through early levels of a game I’ve never heard of. It’s as dull as it can get, and even though I’m trying to be polite, I just want to be with Egan and Mum. When there’s a pause in the conversation, I tell them I have to go and check on my sister, and sneak off to the bathroom to reapply my lipstick.

  It’s dark and I almost scream when I close the bathroom door and turn on the light. Rain is perched on the toilet. Luckily the seat is down, but she’s unwound all the toilet roll and is sitting with half of it on her lap. Her eyes are bloodshot. She’s been crying again. ‘You’ve got to stop hiding in here. It’s creeping me out,’ I hiss.

  ‘I told you before that if you don’t like how it is, you should go back to your nana.’ She blows her nose on her sleeve. Jenny’s not with her.

  Anger blisters through me. I’ve been nice to her all day and she repays me by being nasty. ‘I’m not going anywhere,’ I say. ‘So you’d better get used to it.’

  ‘Mom only prefers you because you’re new. When she’s bored, she’ll dump you and I’ll be the favourite again. When we were in America, she never mentioned you. She told everyone I was her only child.’

  I feel like I’ve been punched in the guts. Maybe this is true, but I didn’t want to know it.

  My eyes sting. I bite my thumb to stop myself crying. Looking in the mirror, I paste on the lipstick as thick as I can. Mum’s left her make-up on the sink. I brush a bit of mascara through my eyelashes and dab some creamy blush on my cheeks too.

  ‘Is that boy here?’ Rain asks.

  I ignore her and inspect my legs. They’re pale and lumpy above the knee.

  ‘When is everyone going home?’ Rain asks. Her voice has lost its sharp edge.

  ‘Put that toilet roll back on the holder. It’s all we’ve got left,’ I tell her and storm off.

  In the sitting room, Mum, Egan and her smoking friends are now sitting in a circle on the floor. Loads of other guests have joined them, including Andrew and Dean.

  When Mum sees me, she waves me over. ‘We’re playing Truth or Dare. I’m terrified this bottle’s going to make us all give away our pin numbers!’

  I sit next to Mum on the carpet. My dress rides up. I watch Merlin spin the empty wine bottle.

  ‘Truth or dare?’ I ask. It looks scarily like a game of Spin the Bottle.

  ‘You spin it and whoever it lands on has to answer your question or do a dare,’ Mum says.

  The bottle stops spinning and points at Gina. She rolls her eyes.

  Merlin rubs his hands together. ‘Truth or dare?’ he asks.

  ‘This is stupid. I’m not telling you lot anything!’ Gina says.

  ‘If you didn’t want to play, you shouldn’t have sat down!’ Mum says. She doesn’t seem to be able to keep her cali­mocho in the glass and it sloshes all over my legs. ‘Sorry, love,’ she says, wiping away the spill with a corner of her silk scarf.

  Mum gulps down the rest of the glass and points it at Gina. ‘When was the last time you picked your nose?’ she says. She hoots like this is the funniest thing ever. Andrew and Dean hoot too. It’s a bit like being in primary school.

  ‘Not fair. It’s my question,’ Merlin says. No one is listening to him.

  ‘Today!’ Gina says, and sticks her middle finger right up her nose. Everyone falls about laughing. I can’t help giggling a bit.

  ‘My turn,’ Mum says. She leans for the bottle and spins it so hard it slides across the floor. We all watch it slow down until it stops. And it’s pointing at Egan. I stiffen. Mum extends her arm as far forward as she can. She makes little circles with her finger in Egan’s face.

  Egan locks eyes with Mum.

  ‘Truth or dare?’ Mum asks.

  Egan pushes his hair out of his face. His chestnut eyes glint in the light. ‘Go on then, dare me to do something,’ he says. He smiles and rubs the end of his nose. He doesn’t look frightened.

  Mum glances around the room, looking for an idea. Then she points at me. ‘I dare you to kiss Apple,’ she says.

  Everyone screeches. They think this is the funniest thing they’ve ever heard. Gina rolls on the floor in hysterics.

  But Egan isn’t laughing. He is gazing at me.

  ‘You chose a dare,’ Mum says. She leans in to me and whispers. ‘Is this the best party or what?’

  I wait for Egan to say no. No way. I wait for him to tell Mum she’s unhinged and inappropriate and stand up and storm out of the party. I don’t know how I’ll ever show my face at orchestra again. It’s too much.

  I drop my head in my hands.

  Then I hear Egan’s voice. ‘No biggie,’ he says.

  I look up.

  ‘Are you serious, mate? She’s eleven,’ Dean says.

  ‘She’s almost fourteen,’ Mum says, which isn’t true – I’m not fourteen for another nine months.

  ‘Fourteen’s all right,’ Andrew says. He elbows Egan, egging him on.

  Egan gets on his hands and knees and crawls forward. Before I know what’s happening, his face is so close I can see every little fleck in his eyes like pieces of stars. His breath still smells of the beer.

  And then it happens.

  Egan’s lips touch mine.

  They’re warm and wet and after a second he presses them harder. My stomach flips, but not in a happy or excited way. I think I’m going to be sick. I inhale deeply as he pulls away. He wipes his mouth on his sleeve.

  ‘There,’ he says. He gulps down some Coke.

  Everyone cheers.

  Mum claps. ‘Well done, Egan. You can come to all our parties.’

  I am unable to move. I don’t know what’s happened. I’ve kissed Egan Winters, or he’s kissed me. And even though it’s what I’ve dreamed about for such a long time, it wasn’t private or special or anything I imagined it would be. It was a joke and everyone was watching. It was a game.

  And it was horrible.

  I want to run away. I want to shout at Mum for making this happen.

  Andrew and Dean are squawking like a pair of parakeets. Andrew smacks Egan on the back like he’s just won an Olympic medal. Egan Winters is looking at me carefully, almost apologetically.

&n
bsp; I sit really still and focus hard on the swirls in the old red carpet. If I get up straight away everyone will know I’m upset. I don’t want them to think I’m a spoilsport. I wait until the bottle has been spun a few times then sneak off to my bedroom.

  Rain is snoring and has one leg hanging over the side of her bunk. I turn off the light and crawl in under my duvet, still wearing my dress and shoes. I don’t know how Rain can sleep: the music sounds like it’s coming from speakers in our room. No matter how far I push my fingers into my ears, I can still hear it booming. I wish everyone would go home.

  I curl into a tight ball and eventually I must manage to fall asleep, because when I open my eyes the flat is quiet.

  I creep into the sitting room. Mum’s sleeping on the couch fully clothed. A cigarette is smouldering in an empty wine glass. I stub it out and pull off Mum’s boots. One of her big toes is poking through a hole in her tights.

  All the lights have been left on, and the window is still wide open. Icy air whistles through the flat.

  I close and lock the window and fill the dishwasher with as many glasses and dishes as I can fit into it – if I don’t turn it on, we’ll have nothing clean to eat or drink from tomorrow.

  On the floor is a blue baseball cap. Egan’s. I lift it to my nose and sniff. It smells of sweat, like any other hat would. I put it on my head and wipe down the worktop, dusty with ash.

  Mum stirs. ‘Apple? Why did you disappear? Everyone was asking for you.’

  ‘I got tired, Mum.’

  ‘I don’t blame you.’ She yawns and sits up. ‘Egan wanted to thank you for the party. I told him it was all your idea.’

  ‘Really?’

  Mum stands up. ‘Yeah. I think he likes you.’

  ‘No, he doesn’t.’

  ‘He kissed you.’

  ‘But it was a dare.’

  ‘If I dared you to kiss Merlin, would you?’ she asks.

  I imagine Merlin’s long, shiny nose touching mine. ‘No way.’

  Mum stands up and yawns again. She covers her mouth with the back of her hand. ‘I’m exhausted. And I’ve got to call a load of agents tomorrow.’ She makes for the corridor. ‘I’ll go to bed.’ She blows me a kiss and disappears.