Am I Normal Yet?

by Holly Bourne

  He stared at them in a way that made me feel naked. They really were a mess – when had they gotten like that? There was hardly any skin left around my thumbnail – I’d picked it all off. My hands were just peeling skin and open, weeping, angry sores. The skin that was left was so dry it was almost reptilian – scaled with white dusty bits of flake. Angry red skin glistened through thin patches I’d worn down through washing.

  How hadn’t Guy noticed this? My hands had been all over his body, all over his hands?

  “Evelyn? Are you okay?”

  Oli’s basil eyes pierced into me and I wanted to cry. His own nerves had vanished, transferred into concern for me. He wasn’t looking at me in disgust, or confusion. He looked from my hands, to my terrified face, in complete understanding.

  He’d worked it out. He knew. Broken people are like homing missiles to one another.

  But I wasn’t broken, I was fine. And I couldn’t handle him staring at me like that.

  I pushed my chair back and stood abruptly.

  “Evie?” Oli asked.

  “Where you off to?” Brian barked.

  I couldn’t stay. I was suffocating, in Oli’s pity, in the thought of everyone’s pity. When they knew…when they found out – the pity always comes first…followed by the annoyance that you’re not better yet, even though they’ve been so understanding.

  “I don’t feel well.” I gathered everything back into my bag and hoicked it onto my shoulder. It wasn’t a lie.

  “Well, go on then.” Brian dismissed me with a flutter of his gnarly hand.

  I fled.

  I paced the empty corridors, trying to make peace with my thoughts. It was strange wandering round with everyone in lessons – living their lives, not worrying about touching street lights and washing the filth off them. I peered into a few windows and just watched classes taking place. I stared at students, wishing I was them, wishing I had their brains, wishing I had their inconsequential problems. Wishing I even had their totally consequential problems. As long as they weren’t mine.

  If my mum had cancer, or Dad got hit by a car or something, it wouldn’t be my fault. It would be horrific but it also wouldn’t be anything to do with me. It would’ve happened because life is cruel and unfair and shit happens sometimes. But me… Me and my problems, they only existed because I wasn’t strong enough. Because I was weak and couldn’t pull myself together like everyone else did. I know Sarah wouldn’t agree, but that’s how it felt…

  I pushed through some fire doors and paced through the frosted college grounds, startling some squirrels.

  What would happen at Guy’s tonight? I vaguely knew his plan…to get as close to having sex with me as I’d let him. Why was I going? Why wasn’t I going to see Sarah?

  I wasn’t sure.

  Maybe if I just convinced everyone I was normal I would convince myself and get better?

  And I really liked him…I guessed.

  I’d kissed him and not freaked out about germs. Was that love? When I was with him I forgot about rituals. Maybe love was the answer? Maybe if I slept with Guy and fell in love it would mend me, as love always mends everyone? I mean, look at all the movies I’d watched. Love always sorted those people right out. In An Affair to Remember, she gets all uncrippled because of love. In The Notebook love makes the old couple die at exactly the same time. In The Matrix, Trinity admitting she loves Neo brings him back from the dead. Let’s ignore Titanic… All stories are based on truth, so maybe someone loving me could mend my glitchy brain? Maybe just having that security would make me feel less insecure about the rest of the universe?

  It was worth a try.

  Bad but sensible thought

  STI test STI test. How do I find out if he’s had an STI test?

  Argh! I bent down on the jewelled grass and put my hands over my ears. My stupid brain! With its constant CONSTANT barrage of thoughts and what-ifs and worries and bullying.

  I wished I could scream. I wished I could scream, right there, near the college smoking area, disturbing all the lessons. Just letting it out. Screaming. Getting rid of it all.

  But I couldn’t.

  So I made my hands bleed into the suds of the cheap soap from the college toilets.

  Thirty-nine

  It was so cold that nobody batted an eyelid when I came into the cafeteria with my gloves still on. Jane sat on Joel’s lap, playfully tugging his long hair into plaits while he pretended he didn’t like it. Amber and Lottie giggled over a sheet of paper, their art supplies spread out all over the table.

  Guy wasn’t there.

  “Hey,” I said, dropping my bag down. “What’s so funny?”

  Lottie looked up and smiled hello. “We’re painting Jane and Joel’s love child.”

  Jane beamed over the table. “They won’t let us see until it’s done.”

  I pulled up a chair next to Amber and looked at their masterpiece. I almost snorted. They’d drawn this hideous baby with Joel’s gross ponytail and given it Jane’s full lips. The baby had a speech bubble that said, “I worship the devil.”

  Jane picked up on my almost-snort. “What? Is it bad?”

  Amber gave me a look. “It’s lovely,” I said, my voice all high-pitched from lying.

  “Our children would be so cute,” Jane told Joel and his eyes bulged a little with panic. Or maybe I imagined it.

  “Where were you this morning?” Amber asked with a sigh. She put white paint on her brush and carefully dabbed over the most offensive bits of her painting.

  Umm, kissing Guy in an alleyway.

  “I walked in with Guy. He lives round the corner from me.”

  Joel looked up and peered at me inquisitively. I stared back, trying to read his mind. They were best friends. Had Guy ever mentioned me? Told him he liked me?

  Amber just looked unimpressed. “Did he manage to make it until 9 a.m. before he got high?”

  “Umm, no,” I admitted. “Where is he anyway?” I asked, as naturally as I could. The result was an operatic voice that squeaked.

  “Around,” Joel answered. He paused for a moment, really looking at me. “I’d be careful, Evie…” he started to say, but we were interrupted by Lottie’s giggles. I looked at the painting again, wondering what Joel had been about to say. Careful about what? Guy? Why? Did he have an STI? Lottie giggled again. Amber’d just given the love child a Hitler moustache, though they’d painted over the rest of the bad stuff.

  Jane looked over. “What is it? Let me see,” and she grabbed it from them. She was quiet for a moment, then she burst out laughing.

  “Joel, honey, look! Our child is Adolf.”

  Joel looked away from me, glanced at it, and chuckled.

  “I love it,” Jane said, beaming at both of them.

  “Ahhh, man,” Amber said. “If I knew you could take a joke so well, I would’ve left the ‘I worship the devil’ speech bubble.”

  Jane laughed harder. “You should’ve given it Joel’s ponytail.”

  Amber went red. “I did!”

  “I can’t believe you lost your nerve. Our love child feels let down.”

  “I…er…” Amber struggled for words. It was nice to watch her like Jane against her will. Like Amber was an iceberg and Jane was a hairdryer – slowly melting chunks off her.

  I looked around for Guy. I felt sick when I thought about the upcoming evening. I also felt determined. And a little bit excited. Mostly sick… Maybe I was coming down with something? The air in the canteen was muggy with crammed-in bodies, condensation dripped off the giant glass windows and obscured the view of the frosted football fields outside. Did someone just sneeze? Did they have a cold? Would I catch it? I couldn’t have a cold. I couldn’t be sick for tonight.

  I sniffed. It did feel a bit blocked. Oh God – I was getting a cold!

  Lottie looked up at me – I hadn’t realized I’d been drumming my gloved hands on the table.

  “You okay, Evie? You’re playing the drums of inner distress.”

&nb
sp; “I’m fine.”

  I wasn’t fine. Nothing was fine. I was going to get a cold and then be too snotty for Guy and lose my chance to sleep with him and make myself normal. And then I’d go home and they’d march me back to the psychiatric clinic and drug me up and tell me I’d had a relapse and that would mean I’d always get sick and I’d always be sick…

  My chest rose and fell dramatically with short sharp breaths.

  “Evie?” Lottie put her hand on top of mine to stop the drumming. Maybe she had a cold? Could she be putting it on my gloves? I couldn’t wipe my face now. Her germs would jump from my gloves and incubate in my nose and make me sick and ruin everything. “Seriously, are you okay? You’ve gone white.”

  I ignored her. I needed an action plan.

  My action plan

  1) Go into town and buy that nasal spray stuff that kills colds in their tracks,

  2) Put half of the bottle up each nostril, just to be safe,

  3) Take some ibuprofen to ward off the headache the overdose of nasal spray will no doubt give me,

  4) Burn the gloves,

  5) Find something to cover my scabby hands with once the gloves are burned,

  6) Maybe go to my English lesson,

  7) Message Mum and Dad to reassure them I’ll meet them in the car park,

  8) Maybe skip English so I can wash myself in the college bathroom and smell nice for Guy,

  9) Meet him after English,

  10) Escape out the back way of college so parents don’t see me,

  11) Go to Guy’s. Dazzle him with my effortless charm,

  12) Somehow get him to show me valid proof he doesn’t have an STI,

  13) Sleep with him?????

  14) Realize I’m just like everyone else,

  15) Walk home with a loving boyfriend, knowing I’m miraculously cured. Explain to Mum and Dad that I don’t need to see Sarah any more,

  16) Be like everyone else, for ever.

  I couldn’t feel Lottie’s hand on mine. My mind was raced and jumped and bullied and hurt. I watched Jane and Amber giggling across the table. I watched Joel playing on his phone. I watched groups of friends, scattered on tables, joking and studying and chatting and piss-taking and just living living living.

  It was like a thin veil floated between Me and Them.

  They were on one side – Side Normal.

  I was on the other.

  “Eves?” Lottie jolted me back.

  I batted her hand away and gave her my best “I’m fine, really” smile.

  “I’m all good, I promise.”

  Then I left. I had some nasal spray to buy.

  Forty

  He didn’t message all day. I panicked about why that might be.

  He’s gone off you.

  He’s changed his mind.

  It was all a joke.

  He saw you throw a perfectly good pair of gloves into a public bin.

  He saw you tap every street light in town on the way back from the pharmacy.

  He doesn’t think you’ll put out.

  He ran into Oli and Oli told him you were crazy.

  I didn’t go to afternoon lessons. Instead I paced the empty corridors of college – wringing my ruined hands, dashing to the bathroom to check my hair and make-up and rub stinging soap into my open sores. Wincing, crying. Having to put my make-up back on again. My stomach was in knots – the type you get a scouting badge for. Maybe I really was getting ill? I kept needing the loo, which meant re-contaminating myself and having to wash again.

  There was no sense left. It had deserted me. Fled. Run away to claim asylum in a neighbouring body. In last period, when I should’ve been in English, I walked the halls, running my newly gloved finger along the wall.

  BAD THOUGHT

  If I can make it round the whole English block without my finger leaving this wall, Guy and I will work out.

  I didn’t see Amber heading straight for me. We collided like snooker balls, her mass of fiery hair flicking into my face. My hand lost contact with the wall.

  PANIC PANIC PANIC.

  I dusted myself off as quickly as possible and put it straight back, hoping a two second blip didn’t undo the spell.

  “Evie? What are you doing? Why aren’t you in lessons?” Amber asked, straightening her coat that had got crumpled in the collision. “And, oww, by the way. That hurt. For someone so small, you have really hard bones.”

  “Amber, hi.” I leaned back into the wall so she couldn’t see me holding onto it. “What are you doing out of class?”

  “I’ve got the dentist.” She narrowed her eyes. “And I asked you first.”

  “Me? Oh…I just felt like skiving, that’s all.”

  “You? Skiving? Miss Goody-Goody A-Star Lady.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Evie.” She grabbed my coat and I flinched, backing into the wall. “Can we talk?”

  “Don’t you need to be getting to the dentist?” My voice wobbled.

  “In a sec. Evelyn, what are you up to tonight? Guy turned up after you left at lunch. I heard him tell Joel you’re going round his later.”

  “Well maybe I am.”

  “What? How? Even though he didn’t message you the whole weekend?”

  “It’s fine.”

  Amber got closer, her hair almost tickling me. “Is it though? I’m trying to back off, Evie, I really am. But you’re not making it very easy. I was chatting to Joel about Guy, and he said he’s been a bit weird after his parents divorced last year. It might not be the wisest thing to get involved with him. And Lottie and I are worried about you. You seem really wound up…”

  “You guys have been speaking about me behind my back?”

  BAD THOUGHT

  Discussing what a freak you are.

  Discussing how to ditch you without hurting your feelings.

  Laughing.

  Jeering.

  “Yes, we have,” Amber said simply. “We’re both concerned about what Guy’s doing to you.”

  “He likes me.”

  “He has a funny way of showing it.”

  I didn’t agree. He’d kissed me, hadn’t he? That was showing it. He’d looked after me at that party – that was showing it.

  “I’m fine,” I repeated, tapping the wall desperately behind my back. One two three four five six one two three four five six.

  “Look, you know we’re here for you whatever. Just, be careful, okay?”

  “I’m always careful.”

  Too careful. That’s the problem.

  She gave me a weak smile and let go of my coat. “Well, I’d better go get my mouth attacked by a sadist wielding a drill.”

  “Make sure your dental practice sterilizes the equipment properly,” I said, suddenly worried for her. “You don’t want them putting a glove covered in someone else’s saliva into your mouth.” I went to grab her, to get her to realize the urgency of it…but I couldn’t bring myself to touch her.

  Amber screwed up her face. “Eww, gross. Now I’m really looking forward to going to the dentist. Cheers, Evie.”

  She turned to leave but I changed my mind and grabbed her at the last moment, pulling her back. This involved letting go of the wall.

  BAD THOUGHT

  You’re going to have to start all over again.

  “Wait,” I said. “You can ask them what their sterilization procedure is. They’ll tell you. And if you really kick up a fuss, they’ll show you their cleaning machine and you can check for yourself.”

  “Riiiiiight.”

  BAD THOUGHT

  Weirdo weirdo weirdo. You’re being a complete weirdo.

  I let go. “You know…just some people worry about that sort of thing.”

  “Evie, are you really all right?” Her voice was so calm, so full of care, it made me look right at her. Her eyes were soft. With the low winter sun streaming through the hall window, it lit her red hair up like an angel in a stained glass window. She put her hand on my arm. I was trembling.

  “I…I�
�I dunno.”

  “I don’t have to go to the dentist, you know?” she said quietly. “It’s not like I’m looking forward to it. We can get a coffee somewhere? Chat?”

  “I…”

  Amber’s eye’s flickered past my head and she frowned. I turned and saw the object of her disgust.

  Guy sauntered down the corridor, all swaggery, with bloodshot eyes. My heart went mental. I completely let go of the wall.

  “Well if it isn’t Evelyn Crane,” he said, drawing to a halt and draping an arm over me. His touch was like a calming tonic. The day’s nerves melted away and dripped into a puddle on the polished squeaky floor.

  Well, most of my nerves.

  “You ready to go, Eves?” I couldn’t believe he had his arm around me. In front of Amber. Like he wasn’t embarrassed.

  Amber!

  “Evelyn?” Amber’s voice sounded like a teacher’s – the “lyn” bit all harsh. “We can still go for a coffee.”

  Guy looked confused. Just as he was about to say something, I jumped in.

  “Amber’s just going to the dentist,” I said, all bossy, like it was a command. I mouthed “Thank you” at her over his shoulder.

  She’d understand, right? I’d made plans with Guy first. And she did need to go to the dentist. It sort of grossed me out she was due to go. That meant it had been at least six months since Amber had got her mouth professionally cleaned. I’d used a glass at her house once.

  The bell went. And though it went off every day, it still startled us. Classroom doors opened and students spilled out like an upturned carton of milk.

  “Yes,” Amber said. “I’m just on my way to the dentist.”

  “Gutted.” Guy drew me in close with his elbow, pushing my head into his neck. “Come on, Evelyn, let’s go.”

  “Right,” I said and my heart became a drumbeat of nerves and confusion and fear. “Can we go out the back entrance? I need to pick something up from my locker.”

  And my parents are waiting out front for me…

  “Sure thing.”

  He steered me away from Amber.

  “Bye,” she called. The way she looked at me, I felt like I was in that film, The Green Mile, where this man gets led to the electric chair.