‘You’re good.’
She bursts into a smile. ‘I can’t believe how nice everyone’s being. Rebecca has invited me for lunch tomorrow. I can’t believe it.’
And I can’t help thinking, Rebecca wants to control everything.
That night, on Facebook, Rebecca has posted photos - of Sarah and Alex in the Jitter Mug. They were in the Jitter Mug, today, without me? What’s going on? I start to freak. What’s she doing, trying to take them from me? In panic, I pick up the phone.
‘Were you in the Jitter Mug today with Sarah and Rebecca?’ I ask Alex.
‘Yeah.’
‘Without me?’
‘You were working.’
‘You didn’t even tell me you were going.’
‘I didn’t know I was going. It was just supposed to be Sarah and Rebecca but when Rebecca turned up at school, they bullied me into going.’
Bullied.
‘If I’d known you’d be so upset, I wouldn’t have gone,’ Alex says.
‘I’m not upset.’
‘You sound upset.’
‘Yeah, well, I’m not.’
‘OK.’
I talk myself down. Rebecca is Sarah’s friend, Alex tagged along. They weren’t excluding me. And I was working. But I can’t help thinking that they better not go without me again, which makes me the kind of person I hate.
It takes ages for me to get to sleep. When I do, I’m ten again. I’ve just been disinvited to a party. Rebecca and Béibhinn are turning people against me.
‘You didn’t invite that loser?’ Rebecca whines.
‘Oh, my God, you’re not hanging out with her, are you?’ Béibhinn asks in disgust.
When I wake, the insides of my cheeks are sore. I run my tongue over them. They’re all cut up. I’ve been biting them in my sleep. Just like I used to do. It’s like I’m back, like it’s started again. The tightness in my stomach. The uncertainty. The analysis of every little thing. The fear that my world is about to fall apart. What can I do to forget the past? What can I do to stop becoming this person I hate?
SIXTEEN | Decency
The D4 episode where Naomi starts bullying is about to be aired. Mum and Dad head for the TV room. I make for the stairs.
‘Aren’t you coming?’ Mum asks, surprised.
‘Homework.’
‘Can’t it wait?’
‘No.’
She smiles. ‘I’ll tape it for you.’
‘Thanks,’ I say, but I know I won’t be watching it. It was hard enough acting it.
In my room, instead of my school bag, I reach for my favourite medical encyclopaedia. I’ve named it Carson after the butler in Downton Abbey because like Carson, it is solid and reliable. The logic of the body, how things go wrong and how to put them right, always calms me down. I’m reading about Ménière’s Disease when there’s a knock.
I look up.
Mum comes in. ‘Hey,’ she says. She sits on the bed. She tucks my hair behind my ear like she used to do when I was a kid.
‘Rache, if this is too hard for you, I want you to say.’
‘I’m fine,’ I say cheerfully. I should have made myself watch it so she wouldn’t worry.
‘You sure? Because the storyline …’
‘Is fine,’ I say firmly now.
She nods slowly. ‘OK.’ She stands. ‘I’m bringing up some tea and toast. You’d hardly any dinner.’
‘Are you sure? Thanks.’ Last thing I need is more calories.
‘You’re fading away.’
‘I’m grand,’ I say, hating that I’ll have to eat it all.
As soon as she goes, I reach for my laptop. They’re giving out about bullying on moan.ie. Maybe they don’t realise that they are bullies themselves. On Twitter, D4 and bullying are trending. Major hate for bullies. You can feel the hurt in the comments, people who’ve been bullied, people whose kids have (or are still being), all venting. I can’t believe the power of one programme - to get all these people talking. And still, nothing’s going to change, because no one is prepared to tackle individual bullies. No matter how many people tweet. Or moan. It’s the victim who has to move school - never the bully.
First thing next day, I’m in the canteen in D4, sitting alone when Emily comes over.
‘The very woman,’ she says. ‘Can I join you?’
‘Sure,’ I say, surprised.
She sits, takes her latte and croissant from the tray, then smiles at me. ‘How’re you doing?’
I smile back. ‘Good, thanks.’
‘I just wanted you to know, there’s been a very strong response from the media to last night’s show. This happens sometimes when we touch on a topical issue, like bullying. We’ve had journalists and researchers contacting us, wanting to feature bullying.’
I’m suddenly angry. This is just the latest sexy topic. They don’t care. Not really. ‘They’re wasting their time,’ I say. ‘It’s not going to change anything.’
She looks surprised. And I’m immediately sorry I spoke.
‘You’re probably right,’ she says. ‘But they thought that speaking to a cast member who had personal experience might make a difference.’
I say nothing.
‘So I’m asking around. You don’t have personal experience, do you, Rachel? Not that there would be any compulsion on you to talk.’
‘No, sorry. I haven’t,’ I rush.
She smiles. ‘That’s fine. Even if you did, we wouldn’t expect you to go public. Just thought I’d ask. Since they did.’
‘Sorry.’
‘Nothing to be sorry about. If we can’t help them, we can’t help them. End of story.’
Even if I thought it would make a difference, I couldn’t do it, and there’s something depressing about that.
I get to school in time for lunch. I sit with Alex and Sarah. It is so different when it’s just us. I’m actually normal. We’ve hardly landed our trays down when Peter Sweetnam pulls up a seat beside me.
‘Rachel, they’re screwing up your character,’ he says.
‘Hello, Peter,’ Alex says. She gives a little wave.
‘Oh, hey, Alex,’ he says distractedly then looks back at me. ‘You used to be hard ass; now you’re just mean.’ He says it like his dreams have been shattered.
I shrug. ‘I’m not the screenwriter, Peter.’
‘I think I’ll write in to complain,’ he says.
‘You’d write in to the show?’ I know people do. Just not people our age.
‘Yeah. They’re wrecking Naomi. I mean, OK, I got the whole anger thing and the whole need for, like, intimacy and that.’
I look at him with new eyes.
‘I just don’t get the bullying,’ he continues. ‘Naomi’s not a mean person.’
‘I know. You’re right. I thought that too. But it’ll all be explained.’ I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.
Sarah and Alex are gaping. I actually want to tell him. Because it’s nice when you find someone who gets your character, like he does. And who questions things like you do.
‘Don’t worry, Rachel. We’ve got your back,’ he says. Then he gets up and goes.
The others look like they’re trying not to laugh.
‘Shut up,’ I say. ‘Leave him alone.’
‘We’ve got your back,’ Alex says, an eyebrow raised.
I try not to laugh. ‘Stop. Seriously. It’s nice that he cares.’
‘Let me get this right,’ Alex says. ‘The way to your heart is through Naomi?’
‘Yup. We’re a package.’
‘Like Jekyll and Hyde,’ Sarah says.
‘Exactly like Jekyll and Hyde.’
Going home on the DART, they’re slagging me about Peter Sweetnam again, calling him my stalker. I’m telling them to shut up - obviously - when Alex whispers,
‘Oh God. It’s her, that woman. And when I say don’t look now, I really mean don’t look now.’
‘The woman who came over to me before?’
‘Yup and she’s coming again,’ Alex says, suddenly looking at her fingernails.
I turn. It is the same woman. This time, though, she’s not smiling. I look out the window, hoping she’ll change her mind, somehow realise that I’m just an actress, playing a role. She’s standing beside me, now.
‘That was uncalled for,’ she snaps.
And I have to look at her. God.
‘I don’t care how awful your life is, that poor girl did not deserve that.’
I feel myself blush as the whole carriage turns to see what the fuss is.
‘I’m an actress,’ I say quietly, so only she will hear.
‘No. You’re a bully. And you should be shot.’
Alex covers her mouth, gets up and goes to the door. Sarah bites a bent index finger.
‘There’s a thing in life called decency,’ she snaps. Then she’s gone, leaving everyone staring, wondering what atrocity I’ve committed.
The thing is, I agree with her. There’s a thing in life called decency. I’m just not Naomi.
Alex comes back.
‘Oh, my God,’ she says.
‘We have to stop getting the DART,’ I say.
On Friday, my Biology teacher hands back a test paper she sprang on us, Monday.
‘I’m surprised,’ she says to me quietly, disappointedly.
I look at the mark. My heart stops. I knew I’d done badly, but not that badly. I haven’t failed a test - any test - since junior school. And it’s Biology, my best subject. While she hands back the rest of the papers, I scan my answers. So many red crosses. A question mark at my stupidity. A comment: ‘You should have put something in’, where an experiment should have been. I fold it in two and shove it into the back of my book. But I have to take it out again because the teacher wants to go through the answers.
‘Did we even cover that?’ I ask Mark afterwards.
‘She told us to read it at home.’
‘You never told me.’
‘I’m sure I did.’
‘If you’d told me, I’d have done it.’
‘It’s not an important test, Rache.’
‘It is to me.’
‘OK, sorry,’ he says, as in jeez.
‘Sometimes you’re just so dozy.’
He gives me this look like he can’t believe I’ve said that. And I remember all the notes he’s taken for me, when he never usually takes notes.
‘Sorry,’ I say. ‘I just don’t fail.’
‘OK.’ But then he says, ‘I’ll see you later,’ and goes off.
At break, Sarah says she’s meeting Rebecca for coffee in the Jitter Mug after school and asks us to come. It’s the last thing I want to do. But I don’t want Sarah to think we don’t have time for her any more, so I go.
Mistake.
I feel like killing Rebecca. Every time I open my mouth to speak, she cuts across me.
‘Oh, my God, I think Louis fancies you, Alex,’ she says. ‘He keeps looking over.’
‘Does he?’ Alex is suddenly on full alert. She glances at Louis. He’s busy and doesn’t see.
‘He’s actually looking at Maggie,’ I say. Because he is. And I don’t want Alex getting her hopes up.
Alex looks at me like I’ve insulted her. Then she turns to Rebecca.
‘D’you think?’ It’s like she values her opinion over mine.
‘Yeah, definitely,’ Rebecca gushes. The love guru. Oh, God, I need to stop.
Alex looks up at the counter again. This time she catches Louis’s eye. He smiles. Innocently. She smiles back, like it means something. Does Rebecca even know what she’s done?
After a while, Sarah starts taking photos of Maggie. Then she scrolls through them.
‘Let’s see,’ Rebecca says, holding her hand out for the phone.
Sarah gives it to her.
‘Ah, God. She’s such a sweetie.’ Rebecca scrolls back over photos. Then she looks up. ‘Rachel, you’re so photogenic.’ And when she smiles, it’s like she means, ‘you don’t look that well in real life’.
‘Thanks,’ I say sarcastically.
Alex and Sarah stare at me, like they don’t know what’s wrong with me.
I feel I’m losing them. I stand up because it’s too much. ‘I gotta go.’
‘What, now?’ Sarah asks.
‘Yeah. I’ve work and that.’ I grab my bag and leave before anyone sees how close to crying I am.
Outside, I stop and take a deep breath. I tell myself I’m overreacting. All she said was that I’m photogenic. But she smiled. She smiled. I hurry to the DART, walking so fast I must look crazy. So I make myself slow down. When I get to the station, I take out my phone and scroll through my own photos of Maggie. Her little face. I look at her and think, why can’t we all stay like that? When do we change, start hating each other, hurting each other, hiding stuff from each other, being afraid of each other? We start off so perfect. Smile without expecting one back. Look into a person’s eyes like they’re the only one in the world. Trust that no one will harm us. Eat when we’re hungry. Sleep when we’re tired. Burp and fart without caring. And we do it all with such enthusiasm. Why does it have to change? Why does it have to get complicated?
I get the DART to Mark’s.
‘Hey! I was just going to see if you wanted to go for pizza,’ he says, and I know he’s forgotten about earlier.
I hug him. Maybe it’s more of a cling.
‘What’s up?’ he asks.
I bury my face in his chest. ‘Nothing.’
He kisses the top of my head. ‘You sure?’
‘Yup. Let’s go.’
Driving in Millie is like driving back to normality. As we come into Dalkey, the rain is really coming down. People are hurrying along, heads down. Water gushes along drains and disappears into gutters. There’s a huge puddle on the road. And a woman walking on the path.
‘Will I get her?’ Mark asks.
‘Oh, yeah,’ I say. Whatever else happens, I have Mark.
He slows down and goes around the puddle.
‘Wimp,’ I say.
‘Couldn’t do it.’
He was never going to.
He pulls up outside the tiny pizzeria in Dalkey. He tells me to run in while he goes to park. He’s sweet like that.
‘I shall return,’ he announces.
I kiss him then hurry inside. In those two seconds, I get seriously wet.
The waiters fuss over me. They fuss over all women. So it’s not totally embarrassing.
When Mark finally arrives, he’s soaked through. He takes off his jumper and laughs. ‘Jesus.’
‘Want my hoodie?’ Not that it would actually fit him. With his ‘buns of steel’.
‘Nah I’m grand. What are you having?’
We order. It’s so good to be out, just the two of us, away from everyone else, from hassle, stress. When our pizzas arrive, I eat a whole meal, for once. But the worry doesn’t go away, not really. It’s lying under my skin - and I can’t help scratching.
‘If someone told you that you were photogenic what would you think?’ I ask innocently.
‘They fancied me.’
I laugh. ‘Seriously?’
‘Why else would they say it?’
‘To imply you weren’t as good-looking in real life?’
‘No, Rachel.’ Then after three seconds, he asks, ‘Why?’
‘Oh, no reason.’ I’m not bringing it here to infect our evening.
‘Is some guy in there telling you you’re photogenic?’ he asks in a mafia voice.
‘No, Tony, no, I swea’.’
‘Cause I’d fill him fulla holes. I’m telling ya.’
I smile. Maybe it was that simple. A compliment. And the smile was just a smile. Maybe I’m the problem here.
On Saturday morning, I call over to Alex.
‘Do you think I was a bit, like, snappy yesterday?’
She smiles. ‘A bit.’
‘Sorry.’
‘What’s up?’
‘Nothi
ng. Sometimes I want it to be just the three of us, like it used to be.’
‘Me too.’
‘Seriously?’ I’m so relieved. ‘Sorry, by the way, that I said Louis was looking at Maggie. I just didn’t want you getting your hopes up.’
‘Yeah and I wish I’d listened to you.’
I look at her.
She lets her head fall back till her neck is fully extended, then she says to the sky: ‘Disaster.’
‘What?’ I ask anxiously.
‘Last night, there was this moment - or what I thought was this moment. We were going to kiss. At least, I thought we were. Oh, God. I closed my eyes and moved closer. Nothing. So I opened them again and he was on the other side of the room, grabbing his stuff. I was so embarrassed. What if he doesn’t come back to see Maggie now?’
‘He will.’
‘It was just so awkward, though.’
‘He’ll be back. He loves Maggie.’
‘He must really think I’m yuck. Not able to even kiss me.’
‘He doesn’t think you’re yuck.’
‘I feel so stupid.’
‘That makes two of us.’
‘Why you?’
‘Yesterday, in the Jitter Mug, I totally overreacted. When she said I was photogenic, I thought she meant that I wasn’t good-looking in real life.’
She hugs me. ‘You dope.’
I feel my shoulders sag in relief. ‘So maybe when Sarah calls over, we’ll say about just the three of us?’
‘Sure.’
Half an hour later, Sarah arrives. I’m relieved she’s alone. She’s playing with Maggie when Alex says:
‘Hey, Sarah. We were thinking, next time we go out, let’s just make it the three of us.’
‘Why?’ She looks from Alex to me like there’s some sort of conspiracy. ‘What’s wrong with Rebecca?’
‘Nothing’s wrong with Rebecca,’ I say.
She turns on me. ‘Are you jealous of her?’
‘What? No!’
‘You act like you are.’
Oh, my God. ‘Thanks, Sarah. So, basically, you’re saying I’m immature?’
‘No. I’m saying you’re jealous. You know, Rebecca said she got a jealous vibe from you. I told her you weren’t like that - but maybe you are.’
The Butterfly Novels Box Set: Contemporary YA Series (And By The Way; And For Your Information; And Actually) Page 71
