It’s late when we finish and we’ve another night tomorrow, so no one really hangs around. I have to collect all the abandoned costumes and hang them, ready to go for tomorrow, so I’m one of the last to leave. I ask Mike to take (a very proud and happy) Marsha home. David stays back to help. It’s romantic, just the two of us, surrounded by costumes. It feels like ages since I’ve seen him. I watch him trying to get a belt to balance on a hanger. I could eat him up. I sneak up behind him, snake my arms around his waist and breathe him in.
‘So,’ I say to him, all hopeful, ‘d’you think this is it?’
‘What?’
‘Rachel and Mark?’
‘I don’t know, Cupid,’ he smiles, ‘but I think they left together.’
‘Yes!’ I punch the air.
‘Don’t ever change,’ he says and kisses me.
Next day, on the DART, Rachel’s beaming.
‘Spill,’ I say.
She looks around at the throng. ‘Wait till we get off.’
‘OK, but tell me one thing – it’s good news, right?’
Her smile widens. ‘It’s good news.’
Getting off the DART, we bump into Sarah. We fall into step together.
‘So,’ Sarah says, ‘did that snog turn into anything interesting?’
Rachel smiles. ‘Define interesting.’
‘OK, that’s a yes,’ Sarah says.
‘Knew he wouldn’t be able to resist that costume,’ I say.
‘Excuse me,’ Rachel says, clearly happy. ‘Did he kiss a costume? Is he going out with a costume?’
‘Going out with?!’ I scream and throw myself at her. When I finally let her go, I expect Sarah to get in there for a hug. But she’s just standing silent. Her face grim.
‘What’s wrong?’ I ask.
‘Nothing.’
‘Sarah?’ Rachel asks, concerned.
Sarah takes a huge breath and blows it out. ‘It’s nothing. Just that everyone’s going out with someone now. Except me.’
Rachel’s voice is gentle but definite when she says, ‘You’ll meet someone.’
But it’s like Sarah doesn’t hear. ‘You’ll all be heading out together in couples and I’ll be stuck by myself.’
She’s getting totally carried away here. ‘Who said anything about heading out together?’
But Rachel looks at me. Then at Sarah. ‘Even if we ever did, you don’t think we’d go without you?’
‘Hel-lo! I’m not going out on my own with two couples. I’m not that sad.’
This is going nowhere. She’s talking about stuff that will probably never happen. ‘Look,’ I say, ‘We’d better get a move on or we’ll be late.’
We start to walk. I want to ask Rachel about last night, but can’t, not with Sarah like she is.
‘What about Simon?’ Sarah says suddenly.
‘Simon Kelleher?’ I ask. I always assumed there was another reason Sarah didn’t go out with Simon. He’s Simon.
‘Simon is a queue-skipper,’ Rachel says. She has a thing about people skipping queues.
‘So?’
‘He’s the kind of guy to elbow you on a football field,’ I add in a burst of creativity.
‘Easy for you to say,’ Sarah snaps. ‘You’ve got someone.’
‘You will too,’ Rachel says.
‘Sure.’
‘Come on. You know you will,’ says Rachel.
Another pause. ‘No one likes me.’
Oh for God’s sake.
‘Sarah,’ Rachel persists, ‘you’re extremely popular.’
‘So how come the only guy who’s ever asked me out is Simon Kelleher?’
‘Now you’re talking him down,’ I say. Because, seriously.
‘No, I’m not. I’m just saying he’s no Dave McFadden. He’s no Mark Delaney.’
‘Exactly,’ I say. ‘So don’t waste your time.’
‘Do you know how smug you sound?’ she says.
What? ‘I’m just being honest.’
‘Smug.’
‘OK. Whatever.’ I give up. Just because Rachel and I are now going out with people, our advice is suddenly rubbish.
Whatever we say is going to sound ‘smug’ to Sarah. Silence falls between us.
We approach the school. I start to look forward to seeing David. Now that Rachel and Mark are together, there’s no reason we can’t sit together at lunch, I think happily. Then I remember Sarah.
‘I don’t suppose you want to sit with the guys at lunch, then,’ I say.
She looks at me. ‘Why not?’
Oh my God. What have we just been talking about?
‘Simon might be there,’ she says, casually.
School is all about Macbeth. We dissect our first performance and prepare for our next. The costumes, though, are done, so I’m just hanging around. Observing. Rachel and Mark look so happy. So relaxed. As if they’ve been studying for some huge exam that’s now over. They look so good together. Like they fit. I want to hear it all, so when Rachel takes a toilet break and I see that Sarah’s busy, I hop up. In the corridor, I call her. She stops and waits, smiling, because she knows what I’m up to.
‘Leave nothing out,’ I say.
‘He was so nice, Alex.’ She looks at me like she can’t believe it. ‘He wasn’t trying to be funny or smart or anything. He was just upfront. He said he backed off because he didn’t want to be turned down again. And he did think I was gloating, telling everyone how hard he was trying to go out with me. But that in the end he just gave in. I felt terrible that he thought I was such a bitch. I explained everything. How I thought he was just messing with me, how embarrassed I was when Sarah brought it up and how I was about to say yes when she did. He was so sweet, Ali. I never thought Mark Delaney would be sensitive. But he is. When he asked me out, I didn’t have to think.’
I hug her. ‘I’m so happy for you.’
‘I was such a fool.’
‘No you weren’t.’
‘I just never knew how nice he was.’
‘Well, now you do.’
She smiles. ‘I can see why David hangs out with him.’
We sit with the guys at lunch, and Sarah not only flirts with Simon but with all the guys. It’s like she wants to be the most attractive person at the table. Witty, funny, talented. She’s exhausting. But at least I can sit beside David and feel his leg against mine. And nudge him with my knee when she gets totally ridiculous.
‘So what do you think?’ she asks afterwards. ‘Do you think he noticed?’
‘I think he noticed,’ I say. He’d want to have been blind, deaf and dumb not to.
‘D’you think he’ll ask me out?’
‘I don’t know, Sarah, maybe,’ I say.
‘I was funny enough, though, wasn’t I?’
‘You were fine. I just don’t know what’s going on in Simon Kelleher’s head.’
‘Sarah, I wonder if you should be a little bit more subtle, next time,’ Rachel suggests. Which is brave, given the reaction she’s probably going to get.
And here it comes: ‘What do you mean, more subtle?’ Sarah’s furious.
‘Just, sometimes, you’re better off playing a little hard to get.’
‘What, you mean like you did? If it wasn’t for me, you two wouldn’t even have got together.’
Oh my God, I think. They got together in spite of Sarah.
‘And, like, who made you the expert all of a sudden?’
SEVENTEEN | SPONGEBOB
The day after the play closes, technically, we’re supposed to show up at school. I don’t know anyone who does, though. David and I have his place to ourselves. We’re fooling around on his bed. He’s trying to give me a foot massage, but it’s so ticklish, I’m squirming and trying to pull away. His phone rings. I reach for it on his locker and hand it to him.
‘I’m busy,’ he says.
‘Might be an emergency.’
It keeps ringing. I shove it towards him again. He takes it with one hand while continuing to d
rive me mad with the other. He answers it. And his face freezes.
Now would not be a good time for this to be an emergency.
He tells someone he’s on his way and hangs up. Then looks at me.
‘Bobby’s been injured playing hockey.’
‘Oh no.’ I feel terrible.
He drives too fast. Parks where he shouldn’t. And hurries onto the pitch. Bobby’s in the dugout, holding an ice pack to his hand. One of the other kids’ mums is with him.
‘It’s his thumb,’ she says. Then more quietly, ‘Doesn’t look great.’
David sits down beside Bob. I stay back, giving them space.
‘You OK, dude?’
Bobby pulls back the ice pack to show him his injury. His thumb looks weird. ‘I didn’t cry. It really hurt but I didn’t cry.’
‘What happened?’
‘See that asshole over there?’ I have to stop myself laughing. ‘He whacked me with his stick.’
The coach comes over. ‘You might want to get that X-rayed.’
‘Yeah, sure, thanks,’ David says. ‘Come on, Bob, let’s go.’ Walking back to the car, David turns to me. ‘I’ll drop you home.’
‘No. I’ll go with you.’ I’d rather be with David in Casualty than without him at home.
‘We’ll probably be in there for hours.’
‘It’s OK.’
Bobby sits in front, silent, head bent, observing his injury. No one talks. It takes almost an hour to cross the city. Casualty is mobbed when we get there. And it’s a long wait before Bobby’s seen in Triage.
‘Are you his next-of-kin?’ a nurse asks David.
‘Well, our dad is. But he’s away on business, so yeah.’
She writes something down, then asks Bobby, ‘So who’s minding you while your dad’s away?’
David straightens right up. ‘I’m seventeen. My sister’s nineteen. Is there a problem?’
‘No. No problem,’ she says and starts to blush.
‘Can he have something for the pain?’ David asks.
‘Of course. I was just going to get him something.’ She sounds defensive. Then she leaves to get it.
Bobby looks up at David.
‘Didn’t you like her?’ he asks.
And I see it. How important David is to him. Whatever David says goes. If he thinks the nurse is OK, so will Bobby. If not, then too bad for the nurse. I look at Bob. And see a mini David. He’s wearing Billabong. Like David does. His hair is spiked. Like David’s. He even holds himself like David.
‘She’s OK,’ David says.
Bobby nods.
The nurse returns with the medication. Then it’s upstairs to X-Ray. The queue’s even worse but moving faster. SpongeBob SquarePants is on TV.
‘Shouldn’t you ring your dad or something?’ I ask.
‘Later, when we know if it’s broken,’ he says.
It makes sense. Why worry him if it’s not broken?
‘My legs are sweating,’ Bobby says.
David removes his shin pads.
‘I need to go to the loo.’
David finds one.
Around Bobby, he’s like a parent. Make that a good parent. Nothing’s a hassle for him. He makes everything easy.
The thumb’s broken. So it’s back to Casualty, where, after another wait, the thumb’s wrapped up tight and we get to leave. Bobby’ll have to return to the Fracture Clinic to get a cast on. The wonders of the Irish health care system.
Back at their house, their sister, Romy, takes over, getting Bobby something to eat, setting him up on the couch with pillows, a duvet and a DVD. David rings his dad, then drives me home.
‘Sorry about that,’ he says. And I can hear how tired he is.
‘Like it was your fault.’ I look at him. ‘Do you mind having all that responsibility?’
He shrugs. ‘If it wasn’t for Bob, I’d probably still be moping around, feeling sorry for myself.’
I know what he means. I don’t have a Bobby, but I’ve a Homer, who went on needing me after Mum, needing vaccines and flea treatments and worming and brushing and walking and feeding and training. And loving. Mum knew what she was doing when she got me a puppy. He might just be a dog to everyone else, but to me he’s family.
David pulls up at my house.
‘Hey. Thanks for coming. It was great having you there.’
I kiss him. ‘You’re lovely.’ Then I jump from the car.
Inside, the door of The Rockstar’s office is closed. The house is totally quiet. For a moment, I panic that he’s gone, just got up and left. I get like this sometimes, which makes no sense because he might as well be gone, he’s so zoned-out. But then I hear strumming from the basement and voices and I know he’s hasn’t vanished. And I can breathe again.
EIGHTEEN | THE LOST WORLD
The shops are overflowing with decorations, and the wind carries an icy chill. I look at the Christmas tree in the Jitter Mug and wonder how I’m going to get through my first Christmas without Mum. Is The Rockstar even going to hang around? I remind myself I have David. To help me through it. To help me through everything.
‘Have you found work experience yet?’ Rachel asks Sarah and me. In January, we’re supposed to experience what it’s like to hold down a job.
‘No,’ we both say together. I don’t know about Sarah but I still can’t think that far ahead.
‘Don’t worry,’ Rachel says. ‘You’ll find something.’ She was very determined herself. She found a place in the Radiography Department of a local hospital, months ago.
‘Might help if we knew what we wanted to be,’ Sarah says, kind of miserably. Then she looks at me. ‘Your dad could probably bail you out with something.’
‘He probably could. If I asked.’
‘You’re not going to, though, are you?’ She smiles, like suddenly she gets my world.
‘No. I’m not.’
‘Fathers, right?’
‘You talking to yours?’ I ask.
‘Nope.’
We smile.
‘Hey! How about that great jewellery shop in Glasthule?’ Rachel says.
Sarah makes a face. ‘It’s tiny. And the only guys who go in there are buying stuff for their girlfriends.’
We laugh.
But Rachel doesn’t give up. ‘What about you, Alex? You’re always in there. You’re one of their best customers.’
And because I don’t want to think and it’s as good as anywhere else, I say, ‘Yeah, OK. I’ll give it a try.’
I walk up to the shop, confident. But as soon as I get inside, I lose my nerve. The owner’s behind the counter, dealing with a customer. I can’t just go up to her and ask for work experience. Even if she was free. I mean, what do I know about selling jewellery?
I glance around. I love this place. Love their stuff. It’s modern. Pretty, but not too girly. Not too fussy. I pick up this really sweet bracelet for a closer look. It’s gorgeous. I try it on. And suddenly I just can’t do without it. I take it off and am about to bring it to the till when I notice the woman beside me. She’s standing in front of the mirror looking at a necklace she’s trying on. She frowns. Lifts up a second one. Then she takes off the first and tries the other. I don’t know why she’s confused. It’s so obvious.
‘The second one,’ I say.
She looks at me in the mirror, then back at the necklaces. Her face relaxes. ‘You’re right. You’re absolutely right. You know, I knew that. Just didn’t trust myself.’
I smile. ‘They’ve earrings too that would be really nice with it. Over here.’ I bring her over.
‘Thank you,’ she says, ‘I didn’t see them.’
‘Sure.’
I let her go to the till first. She looks so happy now. God, I love shoppers.
She turns around before she leaves and thanks me again. She calls me ‘a gem’. I smile goodbye. The bell on the door clinks and she’s gone. I hand my bracelet to the owner.
She smiles at me. ‘Good choice.’
‘
I love it,’ I say, looking at it while she wraps it.
She looks up. ‘So you go to Strandbrook?’ she says, looking at my uniform.
I just smile.
‘What year are you in?’
‘Transition.’ And then, out of nowhere, I’m saying, ‘Actually, I’m supposed to be looking for work experience.’ I go kind of red.
She looks up from the bracelet, her face open. ‘Well, I hope you were thinking of here.’
‘Really?’
‘Absolutely. You’re a natural salesperson.’
‘I am?’
‘That’s not the first of my customers you’ve helped. I’ve noticed you in here before.’ OK, sometimes I get a bit carried away with the whole shopping thing. ‘You’ve a talent for it,’ she says.
I make a face. ‘It’s kind of easy, though, when you love the stuff.’
‘That’s my point!’ She hands me my bracelet, beautifully wrapped, like they do here. ‘But maybe you were thinking of somewhere else?’
‘No. No, I wasn’t.’
‘So, what do you say?’
‘Seriously? I’d love to. Thank you.’ Could it really be that easy?
‘I’m Pat,’ she extends her hand.
I shake it. ‘Alex.’
‘So, Alex,’ she smiles. ‘When would you like to start?’
‘The beginning of January?’
‘Perfect. It’ll be sale time. I could use an extra pair of hands.’
Next day, we’re sitting in the canteen. David, Mark, Sarah, Rachel and me. Simon hasn’t sat with us since Mark and Rachel got together. Which is probably a sign he’s not interested in Sarah – or at least that he doesn’t want everyone to think he is. In any case, it’s more relaxed without him. No one showing off. I bite into my pizza and watch Rachel and Mark. Who can’t keep their eyes off each other. It’s amazing. They’ve changed so much. Mark’s stopped being so cynical about everything. He actually smiles now. And Rache . . . Who’d have guessed the ultimate beauty treatment was sitting two seats in front of her? Everything about her seems to shine. Her hair, skin, even her teeth. And I think how much she deserves this.
The Butterfly Novels Box Set: Contemporary YA Series (And By The Way; And For Your Information; And Actually) Page 14
