We Come Apart

by Sarah Crossan

  I could do an apprenticeship or something

  like my aunt Helen

  who works as a hairdresser on a cruise ship.’

  But

  the thing is,

  it doesn’t matter what I want,

  how smart I am

  or what results I get –

  people like me

  never get out

  of places

  like this.

  HANDS

  When I exit Bicep Andy office,

  Jess is there again,

  sitting in plastic chair.

  She wait for to meet Dawn.

  My body goes wobbly.

  ‘All right?’ she say.

  ‘I all right,’ I say.

  ‘Crap this, innit?’ Jess say.

  ‘Suck job,’ I say.

  Jess does laughing.

  ‘Suckest job ever,’ I say.

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘You want chocolate button?’ I ask.

  ‘I’ll have two,’ Jess say.

  Jess looking gloom.

  I sit down.

  ‘What is matter?’ I ask.

  ‘Nothing,’ she say.

  ‘Tell to me.’ I friendly punch her.

  ‘Just leave it, Nicu.’

  I want to find her world,

  to see what she see,

  to pain with her pain.

  Most of all

  I want my hand to touching hers,

  but I just

  leave it.

  Why Won’t He?

  I can’t persuade him

  to even take one drag

  of my fag

  and

  it sort of pisses me off sometimes

  that he won’t do it,

  that he won’t keep me company.

  ‘You’re such a baby,’ I say,

  which is a bit weak,

  but it’s cos I don’t really know

  how to insult someone

  who has his

  own mind.

  THE WRESTLER

  After park workings

  my bones are exhaust,

  my back is shatter

  and

  my stomach sing for Mămică’s soup stew.

  I thank all gods we have

  only one week to finishing.

  This work make me never stealing from any shop

  ever.

  When I coming in my home

  I don’t smell Mămică’s soup stew,

  or

  hear clatter of cooking.

  My belly rolls with groans.

  Out of the nowhere,

  laughing hit my ears.

  Mămică and Tata.

  Mămică and Tata

  in living room.

  Alone.

  Laughing.

  Alone.

  Noising.

  Sexing?

  I freeze to my spot,

  and I wanting so much that black hole

  swallow me up.

  No. No. No. No. No. No. No.

  ‘Nicu!’ Tata shout.

  I schtum it.

  ‘Nicu!’ Mămică shout.

  My breath schtum.

  ‘Nicu, come here,’ Tata shout again.

  ‘We want to show you something.’

  My heart almost schtums too.

  ‘Nicu, get your arse in here,’ Tata say in louder voice

  because he think

  I am far.

  On my enter all is

  OK.

  I see them looking at

  Tata’s phone,

  bodies together, eyes watching, faces sunny.

  ‘Look, Nicu,’ Mămică say, ‘look what we found on Tata’s phone.’

  ‘It’s from last year,’ Tata say.

  ‘You look much younger,’ Mămică say.

  ‘But strong as a bison,’ Tata say.

  Over shoulders

  I look also the phone and see it.

  See me.

  Body low.

  Head up.

  Feet wide.

  Ready to do classic takedown move.

  ‘You could have been a proper champion,’ Tata say.

  ‘A national champion,’ Mămică say.

  ‘An Olympic champion,’ Tata say. ‘First famous Gabor ever.’

  And I was dreaming this too

  long times ago.

  Gold,

  silver

  or

  bronze.

  Any of three.

  But dreams flutter high in air.

  Bye-bye

  wrestling butterfly.

  Hello

  husband.

  Looking for an Excuse

  I won’t miss Dawn, or Bicep Andy

  or any of the navel-gazing crap

  they make us do here.

  But I hate it ending

  cos,

  like,

  how am I gonna find an excuse to be

  with Nicu?

  PARTY

  Fiona

  Bill

  Rick

  Jade

  Jess

  Lee

  me

  everyone say see you laters in shed.

  So much noise,

  laughing,

  piss-take,

  smoking.

  I not understanding chat banter

  but I understanding

  the happy face on guys

  for

  final day of youth offender work.

  In shed party

  Fiona and Jade sink cider,

  Bill and Rick spark roll-up,

  Lee pump tunes from iPhone.

  Me and Jess

  share good time

  conversation.

  When Terry Is Out

  I find one of

  Terry’s old phones hidden

  at the back of his wardrobe

  and watch

  through films I helped make.

  Pan shot of the living room:

  TV, sofa and sideboard.

  A normal enough flat until

  there’s the

  zoom shot of Mum screaming –

  then

  cut to

  Terry laughing and kicking,

  his fists flying

  and

  my

  voiceover saying quietly,

  ‘Please stop, Terry.

  Please stop.’

  Finally it

  fades out.

  He’s telling Mum

  what set him off,

  and she’s saying sorry

  again

  and again

  and again.

  My finger hovers over the delete button,

  but I don’t do it.

  I can’t.

  I put the camera back in its hiding place

  and

  go out to look for Nicu,

  who isn’t anywhere.

  He can’t always be there

  and I shouldn’t

  expect him to be.

  PHOTOGRAPHS

  There is

  X

  in calendar

  in big, thick pen.

  When we have

  wedding day

  celebration.

  On coffee table

  they spreading photo of marriage girls

  night

  after

  night.

  I will need

  all my skills for

  wrestling out of damn situation.

  See,

  they want me to tell who I pick.

  I can’t to tell.

  And

  I can’t to tell Jess.

  Falling

  It’s the first free Saturday for three months.

  And I don’t have to,

  but I spend it with Nicu

  on a patch of grass

  behind his flats.

  He won’t stop messing around,

  making faces,

  telling jokes,

  and then he

  unlaces his right t
rainer,

  does the same with my left.

  I don’t shoo him away

  or smack the back of his hand.

  I watch

  as he ties our laces together,

  binds us.

  ‘Up! Come with me,’ he says,

  and tries to stand,

  but of course he can’t

  cos

  I stay sitting like a stone

  with my eyebrows raised,

  being as cool as I can.

  ‘Bit old for three-legged races,

  aren’t we?’

  ‘Come. I want to try,’ he says,

  so I stand,

  finally,

  our legs pressed up against each other.

  He throws one arm around my shoulder.

  ‘For to balancing,’ he says.

  I put my arm around his shoulder too.

  And we shuffle,

  his left foot forward

  my right foot forward,

  then

  my left and his right together.

  We walk slowly,

  awkwardly,

  laughing and on the

  verge of falling.

  We don’t get far.

  But we do manage to move.

  We do get

  somewhere

  tied together like that.

  DOUBLE OH SEVEN

  On Internet I see the old film of James Bond.

  This spy man have all he want:

  the girls,

  the fashions,

  the cars.

  I practise my James Bond,

  chatting up ladies

  in front of mirror.

  Hi there, girl, would you care to share cocktail drink?

  Do you like to be in my car?

  Can I unzipping your garment?

  Then I change,

  I am special agent

  Nicu Gabor

  and I imagine asking to Jess:

  Do you like to be in my pleasure?

  Can you show me to your world?

  Would you enjoy dating day with me?

  This final question is what I will ask to Jess.

  No Answer

  My phone

  pings.

  Wanna go 4 a Macky Ds l8r

  wiv me, Shawna + Liz?

  Meg xxxxxx

  A few months ago

  I would’ve said

  YES.

  Now I don’t even bother answering.

  I text Nicu.

  ICE NATION

  When Mămică and Tata tell to me about

  all the peoples who will be gifting me

  presents for wedding,

  I have great fear.

  I think that one day

  I will returning from school to become

  Victim of Kidnap Plot.

  Hood on head.

  Gag in mouth,

  taken away to old place for to be

  meeting and married to

  stranger.

  I know that this will happen.

  I know I have not the power to stop.

  But.

  I need Jess.

  I must to make her my

  only and one.

  It is essential for offer myself to her.

  First to be date partner.

  Second to take my heart:

  for Jess to be my kidnapping.

  Sometimes

  I wanna say to Nicu,

  ‘I’m way out of your league,’

  or

  ‘Look at me, and look at you,’

  but I don’t.

  And I’m not sure why.

  GOOD FUN TIMES

  The day I ask to Jess is like

  World War III

  in my chest.

  I am too much shitting my bricks.

  ‘Tell me you’re having a laugh, Nicu?’ Jess say.

  ‘I not laughing, Jess. I dead serious.’

  ‘What, like a real date?’ she say.

  ‘It will be nicest of days,’ I say.

  ‘With me?’ Jess say, looking with her demanding eyes.

  ‘We will have good fun times.’

  ‘Suppose so.’

  ‘Proper dating. In night-time,’ I say.

  I swear Jess eyes

  fill with the

  tears.

  She kick stones,

  small,

  big,

  bigger,

  away into the distance.

  ‘And I like your gorgeous physical,’ I say,

  because all the girls need knowing this.

  ‘That’s sweet.’

  ‘So we go on night date then?’ I say.

  ‘We can go out at night,’ she say. ‘But it is not a date.’

  WE CAN GO OUT!

  I want to

  jump,

  cheer,

  whoop.

  Sit on nine clouds.

  Jess

  say

  YES.

  ‘I thinking Burger King

  or

  greasy spoon,’ I say,

  because these are

  English date places.

  ‘No,’ Jess say. ‘Let’s do something better.’

  I swallow grenade.

  Does Jess meaning that we do …?

  That we should to …?

  That we …?

  ‘Let’s go up Ally Pally,’ she say.

  ‘Ally Pally?’

  ‘Alexandra Palace.

  They’ve got a massive ice rink there.

  Can you skate?’

  ‘Yes.’

  I tell white

  little lie.

  Effort

  I don’t wear much make-up usually,

  can’t be bothered with bright lipstick or thick eyeliner

  that all the other girls go for.

  I never normally wear perfume.

  But I do today

  because I’m going out with Nicu.

  And I don’t want him to

  think

  I didn’t make an effort.

  ONE BOY FALLING

  On bus to Ally Pally

  I can smelling my Tata’s

  man-splash

  that I tap on

  cheek and chin.

  My date clothes have condition washing,

  and my

  special occasion leather jacket

  make me handsome man.

  Jess smell of

  summer day in lovely garden.

  She have skinny jeans,

  red lips,

  black lines under eyes,

  hair like the girl band.

  Bus people stare

  because she is complete

  wow vision.

  We don’t do much speaking on bus.

  We staring at world outside.

  The skating is not graceful romance like Olympics.

  Music DJ plays

  doof

  doof

  doof!

  Lights flash

  red,

  green,

  blue.

  ‘Hey, guys, welcome to Ice Nation!’ DJ shout.

  Boys, girls, dates, friends, gangs

  ferocious fly in their skates,

  zip zoom.

  Ice spraying every place.

  I hold on to side.

  ‘I thought you could skate?’

  Jess saying with snigger.

  ‘It is different ice in Romania.’

  I fall

  five,

  ten,

  double ten

  times.

  My clean clothes and leather

  get

  wet.

  Jess does whoosh circle alone

  and backways skate too.

  She could be professional ice woman.

  I leave holding side

  and bang my bum arse.

  ‘Come on,’ she say with hands out to me.

  I reach for her.

  She slide closer.

  We touch

  fingers.


  Fingers become chain link.

  They snake.

  We touch

  hands.

  No …

  We hold hands.

  And the electric

  flows

  between our skin,

  bones,

  bodies.

  We make three big circle around rink

  with hands holding –

  always holding –

  and it’s the most

  magic amazing minutes of

  my life.

  I want so many more.

  And

  more.

  Same as You

  A few days after Ally Pally,

  after skating around the rink like

  happy

  kids at Christmas,

  Nicu and I meet near the Tube station

  and I tell him exactly what to do.

  ‘You watch them coming through

  the barrier,

  and if they put a ticket in

  and it

  pops out

  again,

  it’s probably a Travelcard,

  and that’s what we want.

  You understand what I’m saying?’

  He nods. ‘I understand, Jess.’

  ‘Good.

  Then, just as they get out of

  the station,

  you ask if they’ve finished with the card

  cos you have to get to Holloway

  to see your sick dad or whatever.

  You get me?’