The Butterfly Novels Box Set: Contemporary YA Series (And By The Way; And For Your Information; And Actually)

by Denise Deegan

‘OK, then, you believe Rebecca. You know, why don’t the three of you just go out together. Then no one will be jealous.’

  ‘Now you’re definitely sounding jealous,’ Sarah says.

  ‘Oh, fuck off, Sarah.’

  Alex’s eyes widen.

  Sarah’s just lost Shane and I’ve told her to fuck off. What am I doing? She’s one of my closest friends, one of the most important people in my world.

  ‘Sorry,’ I whisper before I literally run.

  What’s wrong with me? I’m losing my friends all by myself.

  SEVENTEEN | Trespassing

  Neither of them calls me for the entire weekend. So it’s official. I’m a jealous cow. Or maybe just Sarah thinks I’m jealous and Alex is pissed off with me for attacking Sarah. Or maybe they both think I’m jealous and are pissed off with me for attacking Sarah. Fine, let them. And let them go off with her, I think, but don’t really mean it. I’m stressed and moody and feel like screaming. ‘Jealous vibe,’ my ass.

  On Monday, I’m in D4 first thing. Cramming Biology. It’s not the only thing I need to cram. I’m missing a whole day, today.

  Rebecca swans in, carrying breakfast. ‘Rachel, you work too hard.’

  I ignore her.

  At her dressing table, she opens the tinfoil on her breakfast. The most amazing smell fills the room. I look over. It’s just a bagel. But I’m so freaking hungry.

  ‘You’re putting yourself under way too much pressure,’ she says, then sinks her teeth into the bagel. ‘Sarah was saying how narky you’ve got.’

  I stare at her. ‘Shut up, Rebecca.’

  ‘Oh, I see what she means.’

  I could kill her. I could actually break her neck. There’s no way I can study now, with murder on my mind and nothing in my belly. I get up, grab my bag and go to the canteen, where I have a full Irish breakfast. Screw her. And the diet.

  When I get back, she’s gone. I still can’t study. I take out Carson to calm myself down. I open it randomly, the way I always do. It lands on the thyroid gland. I run my fingers under the words to help me focus. The thyroid gland controls metabolism. An overactive gland results in hyperactivity, sweating and weight loss. Weight loss, I think. I read on, interested now. If I could speed up my metabolism I’d burn more calories without having to starve myself. Carson says nothing about this. I need Google. I’ve only a few minutes before Make-Up, not enough time to turn on my own laptop. Rebecca’s is on, just closed over. She owes me.

  I go over and open it. I click on Safari. It opens into moan.ie which she mustn’t have closed. Good to know she’s still as obsessed as I am. This is weird. She’s in the middle of posting something - under the name BatmanReturns. Oh. My. God.

  I sit staring at the screen, as the truth sinks in. She is BatmanReturns. She’s the one who’s been dissing me all this time. In public. Ever since the IFTA nomination. I think of all the things she’s said. About my ass. About me being wooden. About her being a great actress. With great legs. I have to stop myself firing the computer at the mirror. I want to rip her skin from her bones. Pull her hair out from its roots. But I’m called to Make-Up. Then Wardrobe. Then on set - where I’ve no problem working up some serious anger for Naomi. I’ve no problem being an onscreen bully. And I’ve no problem getting back to the dressing room fast. To let her have it.

  She’s removing her make-up when I walk in.

  ‘Hey,’ she says, all friendly, like I’m an idiot. ‘How did it go?’

  ‘Well, my ass looked fat. And I was so wooden you could set fire to me.’ I glare every word home.

  Her whole expression changes, twice. First, she freezes. Then, recovers. ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘Don’t act dumb. I was on your computer.’

  ‘Oh, my God. That’s trespassing,’ she says, trying to turn it.

  ‘No, it’s borrowing. And what you’ve been doing is libel,’ I say, glad we had that Law Day in Transition Year.

  ‘Jesus. Relax,’ she says, like I’m a mental patient. ‘It was just a joke.’

  ‘You think Emily would see it as a joke?’

  I see her tense. She tries to hide it. Slowly, she puts down the lip gloss.

  ‘Don’t,’ she says. ‘I was just messing.’

  ‘Like all those times you were “messing” in junior school?’

  ‘Look, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did it. I thought that maybe your part would get bigger and mine would end. You do all this study. I’ve dropped out of school. I don’t have a fallback.’

  ‘And I should feel sorry for you, is that it? For all I know, you’re making it up.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I really am sorry.’ She looks like she’s going to cry.

  ‘Yeah, well, you will be.’

  ‘Where you going?’

  ‘Where do you think? It’s not just me you’ve been dissing. It’s Maisie. Even poor Holly. Emily needs to know.’

  ‘Please, Rachel.’

  Please, my ass. She’s a two-faced cow. I don’t believe anything she says. I can’t. So I go. Run upstairs. But the office is locked. I check my phone. Damn. It’s ten-past-one.

  They’ve gone to lunch. Fine. I’ll wait. I sit on the ground outside the office. I can’t believe it. I still can’t believe she would do that. To all of us.

  A throat clears. I turn.

  It’s Rebecca. And she’s smiling as she walks the empty corridor towards me.

  ‘Oh, isn’t she there?’ she asks, as if it’s a shame.

  Something’s changed.

  I stand so we’re at eye level. ‘I’ve no problem waiting.’

  ‘Wait all you like. You’re wasting your time. I’ve deleted the account.’ She smiles. ‘So you’ve no evidence to back up your story.’

  Why did I say anything? I should have just come and told Emily.

  ‘You know, you’re going to have to be a lot cleverer if you’re going to take me on, Rache. You think you’re so great. You haven’t changed. Once a loser, always a loser. Even your so-called friends like me more than they like you.’

  ‘Oh, get a life, Rebecca.’

  ‘I have one. It’s yours.’ She smiles.

  Everything stops as it all becomes clear. She’s been love-bombing Sarah and Alex to turn them against me, zoning in on Sarah, the most vulnerable - doing anything she wanted and pretending to be into it, pretending to be so caring when all she was doing was using her to get at me. There was always something in it for Rebecca - to take from me the one thing I have now that I didn’t have then. My friends. I stare at the smug face that has ruined my life once already. And I hit her. I actually hit her. Finally after all these years. The sound is surprisingly loud and my hand stings. Satisfyingly.

  She holds her cheek. ‘You will be sorry you did that,’ she says slowly.

  ‘Oh, I don’t think so,’ I say and turn.

  ‘Just wait,’ she says through gritted teeth.

  I march down the corridor wanting to punch something, anything. Jack was wrong. She has changed. She’s got worse. I can’t keep still. I have to get out and walk. I march around the grounds. I march down Nutley Lane, remembering all the times I talked myself out of suspecting her. She made me late on purpose that time, after I got the nomination. She did mean I wasn’t good-looking in real life. Just like she meant I was fat when she said I shouldn’t put on more weight.

  Suddenly, I see everything the way it really was. She introduced me to everyone to remind me I was new. The one time she actually did help - that time I got the dates mixed up - she was trying to gain my trust. Or maybe she'd tampered with my schedule, changed the dates. All she’d have needed was a scissors, some glue and a photocopier. She’s done worse.

  There has to be a way of getting her back. I try to think, to plot, like she plots, the evil cow, but I don’t have that type of brain. I just can’t think like that.

  In the afternoon I’m on set and, once again, have no problem working up some anger. When I get back to the dressing room at four, there’s a no
te asking me to Emily’s office. Rebecca smiles as she sees me reading it. My stomach knots. What has she done?

  My heart is pounding as I knock on Emily’s door. Her ‘come in’ sounds cold.

  Slowly, I push in the door.

  She’s not alone. The taste of fear is metal.

  ‘Rachel, this is Maeve Dwyer from Human Resources.’

  I swallow. I don’t even know what Human Resources is, but it sounds serious. Maeve Dwyer nods curtly. No hand is offered. This is not a friendly meeting.

  ‘Sit,’ Emily says.

  I do. In silence.

  ‘We’ve had a complaint from Rebecca French. Have you any idea what it might be about?’

  ‘No.’ What, did, she, say?

  ‘Rebecca was up here with me, earlier, crying. She said you assaulted her and that you’ve been bullying her. Is this true?’

  It takes a second to recover, a few more to know what to say. I go with the truth.

  ‘I’m not bullying Rebecca. It’s the other way around.’

  ‘Rachel,’ Emily says. ‘If you were being bullied, why didn’t you come to me? I’ve always told you I’m here if you’ve a problem. It’s something I’ve emphasised, isn’t it?’

  I nod. Feeling sick. ‘I didn’t want to bother you with it, make it your problem. You’re running a whole show.’

  ‘If there’s bullying on my set, it’s my problem.’ She folds her arms. ‘In what way were you being bullied?’ she asks, like she doesn’t believe me. Then it hits me - I’ve already told her I’d no experience of bullying. She must be thinking of that now.

  I take a deep breath. Where do I start? What is classed as actual bullying? And turning my friends against me has nothing to do with D4.

  ‘She’s been posting up stuff about me on moan.ie under a false name.’

  ‘What name?’

  ‘BatmanReturns.’

  Emily stares. ‘Let me get this straight. You’re accusing Rebecca of being behind BatmanReturns,’ she says, as if to stress how serious this is.

  ‘Yes.’ I look her in the eye so she knows I’m telling the truth.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Maeve says. ‘Who is BatmanReturns?’

  What is she doing here? She’s freaking useless.

  Emily explains about moan.ie. And tells her that BatmanReturns is one of the most influential people on it.

  ‘What proof do you have of this?’ Maeve asks me.

  I take a deep breath. Let it out slowly. ‘None. She’s just deleted the account.’

  ‘How inconvenient,’ she says sarcastically.

  I look at Emily because that’s who I’m talking to from now on.

  ‘I caught her posting something this morning as BatmanReturns. I told her I was going to you. I came up to but you’d left for lunch. I waited but then Rebecca came to tell me she’d deleted the account. And now, only hours later, she goes to you saying I’m bullying her.’

  ‘Did you assault her?’ Maeve asks coldly.

  Assault. It sounds so serious. Like a crime.

  ‘I slapped her face. Not just because of what she did to me but also what she did to Maisie and Holly.’

  Emily runs her hand through her hair.

  ‘So you admit to assaulting her?’ Maeve asks.

  ‘I slapped her, once, on the cheek.’

  She takes notes. Then finally looks up. ‘So, when you say you caught her posting something, what exactly do you mean?’

  I glance at her then explain to Emily. ‘I went on her computer to look something up. She’d closed it in the middle of a post.’

  ‘You went on her computer?’ Maeve asks, like she’s horrified.

  Emily is holding her hair in her hands in two clumps now. Finally, she lets them go.

  ‘Anything else we should know?’ she asks.

  Desperately, I try to think of something to convince her. ‘It started when I was nominated for the IFTA. She wants me off the show.’

  ‘Is that everything?’ Maeve asks coldly.

  I look at Emily. ‘There’s other stuff but I’m not sure it’s important.’

  ‘What stuff?’

  ‘We were in junior school together and she bullied me then.’

  ‘Funny,’ Maeve says. ‘She said the same thing about you.’

  ‘What? Oh, my God. She really is evil,’ I say before I can help it.

  ‘All right,’ Emily says. ‘Enough. Some very serious allegations have been made here today, none of which can be ignored. There will have to be an investigation.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘For what?’ Maeve asks, like I’ve admitted to something.

  I look at Emily. ‘The hassle. This is why I didn’t say anything.’

  ‘You let me deal with the hassle,’ Emily says. ‘In the meantime, you’ll have to change dressing rooms. And I’ll have to change your schedule. You’ll be working flat out for the rest of this week. Because, next week, I don’t want you in.’

  My heart stops. ‘Am I being suspended?’ I ask slowly.

  ‘No, but we’re asking both of you to take a week out while the investigation goes ahead. OK, that’s it.’

  I stand up, every bit of me shaking. They believe Rebecca. And they’re not going to change their minds. She’s been here longest. She’s one of the most popular members of the cast. She even produced tears. The bully played the victim perfectly. She deserves an IFTA.

  Rebecca’s on the phone when I get back to the room. I ignore her and just get my bag.

  ‘Yeah, she’s here,’ she says looking at me. ‘Yeah, I know. I’ll see you in a minute.’ She hangs up. Grabs her bag. Then she smiles at me.

  ‘My best performance yet, I think.’

  ‘Fuck off, Rebecca.’

  ‘Happily.’ She goes.

  I’m surprised she didn’t rub it in a bit more.

  I wasn’t going to change out of my costume, but now that she’s gone, I do. Ten minutes later, I walk outside. Rebecca is standing in the porch with Béibhinn Keane. It’s like they’ve been waiting for me. So that’s who she was talking to on the phone.

  ‘Well if it isn’t “The Nerd”,’ Béibhinn says. They look at each other and smile, and I’m right back there. I am ten years old. And I’ve lost my shell.

  A car skids to a halt at the kerb, metres away. We turn.

  It’s Millie! Suddenly I remember who I am - and it’s not who I was. Mark gets out of the car and towers over it.

  ‘Yo, Dunne. Taxi’s here.’

  I smile. ‘Well, guys, I’d love to stay and chat, but my very hot boyfriend is here. I guess you guys have each other.’

  They just smile like they know something I don’t.

  ‘Can’t wait till tomorrow,’ Béibhinn says to Rebecca.

  And I can’t help worrying. What’s tomorrow?

  ‘Who was that, talking to Rebecca?’ Mark asks, as we pull away.

  ‘Some friend of hers.’

  ‘Were they giving you a hard time?’

  I can’t believe he got that. ‘Don’t worry, I can handle Rebecca,’ I say, because I’ve learned one thing: you tell people, they worry and that just adds to your worry, when they can’t help anyway - and talking about it only makes you a bigger victim. The only person who can fight this is me. And I will. Somehow.

  ‘Are you still hanging out with her?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Good. I didn’t like the way they were looking at you, Rache.’ He looks concerned.

  ‘They don’t bother me.’

  ‘I’d stay away from Rebecca.’

  ‘I plan to.’

  ‘Maybe change dressing rooms.’

  I feel like laughing. ‘Yeah. Anyway, forget about that. Let’s get sweeties.’

  ‘Here, give us a kiss,’ he says while still driving.

  I reach over. He turns his head. And I get a lovely kiss that has no pity in it. And I’m glad I haven’t moaned to him.

  We go for pizza and I try to put the worry on hold.

  When Mark drops
me home, I go to my room and try to do some homework. But I can’t. This is too huge. What if they kick me off the show? And what if that goes public? I’ll never get another acting job. I’ll always be the bully. While the real bully gets off. I walk in circles around my room. When really I want to be out, running, moving, not staying still. There’s nothing I can do. Except wait. Try to stay calm. Go back into D4 and do my scenes. Go in there, not knowing who knows, who doesn’t. Go in there and try not to kill Rebecca. I’ve no other choice. If I don’t go back, she’ll win. What did they mean about tomorrow?

  EIGHTEEN | Make-Up

  I’m standing in the doorway of Maisie’s dressing room, clutching my bag to my chest. The place is a chaos of colour - shawls, throws, furniture, cushions, clothes and candles. There’s just so much stuff. She’s trying to tidy it away, when she realises I’m there. She throws the cushion she’s been picking up from the floor behind her shoulder. It lands, perfectly on the bright pink chaise longue.

  ‘Here you are!’ she says, like she’s delighted. ‘Company at last. And someone young for a change. You wouldn’t believe the amount of moaning you get from your average wrinkly.’

  I wonder how much Emily has told her.

  ‘Come in, come in. I won’t bite.’

  I close the door. And stand just inside.

  ‘Sorry,’ I say. I feel like crying.

  ‘No. I’m sorry. The state of the place. Here, let me get that boa.’ She sweeps it off what must be my dressing table. It could be a boa constrictor for all I care.

  I sit at the dressing table she’s been clearing and put my bag out of the way.

  ‘Maisie, you don’t have to move your things. I like it the way it is.’

  ‘You do?’ She looks so relieved and immediately stops tidying. Instead, she lights an incense stick. ‘Technically this is against the rules,’ she says, shaking the match to put it out.

  I take out my books. I open one, doesn’t matter which. I put both hands on either side of my face and lean on my elbows, like I’m concentrating. I’m thinking of Emily, how I let her down. She believed in me. Put me up for the IFTA. Now, to her, I’m a bully and a liar.

  ‘Put that away,’ Maisie says.