Noah and Me

by Beckie Stevenson

  She’s still in her car seat, lying on her side, facing me. Her eyes are wide open, unmoving and lifeless.

  I clamber over the broken glass and front seats. Where are my dad and Michael? I reach out to her with my shaking hand, tears streaming down my face. “L-L-Lily,” I whisper, “it’s going to be alright, sweetheart. Just look at me, Lily. I’m over here.” I stretch my fingers out and reach as far as I can, but I can’t reach her. She’s staring at me, unblinking. “Come on, Lily,” I say. “Please.” She’s not moving and she’s not crying. “It’s going to be alright,” I sob. “Just take my hand, Lily. Please. I love you, Lily. Take my hand!”

  Lily doesn’t move because Lily is dead. She’s gone, and she didn’t take me with her.

  I start to scream and it’s the only noise I can hear. Why is no one else screaming or crying? I finally look around and see my mum slumped in her seat, her eyes closed but her hand still holding on to Lily’s. “Mum!” I cry. “Mum, you have to help Lily!” My chest is heaving in between my sobs as I shuffle closer to them. I place my hands around my mum’s shoulder and shake her. Her head rolls on the top of her neck. “Mum, wake up!” I shout. “Wake up!”

  Caleb and Daniel are in the seats behind them. Their eyes are shut too. “Daniel!” I shout. “Caleb! Can you hear me?”

  Nothing.

  I turn around to look out of the windows, but I can’t see my dad or Michael anywhere.

  This can’t be happening. This isn’t real.

  “Dad! Michael!” I cry. “Lily needs help.” I slump down against the side of one of the seats and whimper. “You have to help her,” I sob. I stop and listen for them to say something or even moan, but there’s just an eerie silence hanging around me. “Help me!” I wail. “Help us!”

  Nothing.

  Silence is deafening.

  Silence is heartbreaking.

  Chapter 2

  NOW

  Congratulations

  He smiles at me and clinks his glass against mine. “Congratulations, Ariel,” he says in his deep voice.

  I lick my lips and smile at him. “Thank you, Kieran.”

  “So¸” he says, squeezing onto the sofa beside me. “You’re off to York then?”

  I nod, taking a sip of the cheap champagne. “Yeah.”

  “It’s nice,” he says. “Have you ever been there before?”

  I nod again. “I lived in the North York Moors when I was a child.”

  He looks confused. “How come you’ve never mentioned it before?”

  I shrug. “It’s not a big deal, and no one has ever asked me.”

  He blinks, looking thoughtful. I decide right there and then that I’ll take him to my bed. He has such a handsome face anyway, but when he’s deep in thought or when he’s confused, he looks extra cute.

  “How come you’re older than us?” he asks.

  I narrow my eyes at him and then let my gaze drop to his lips. I hear his breathing instantly change. “How do you know I’m older than you?”

  He leans in closer until our lips are just centimetres apart. “I looked at your driver’s licence.”

  “That’s just rude,” I tell him with a smile and subtly lean away from him.

  He reaches up and takes the glass out of my hands. “I was only looking at your picture. You were a very attractive seventeen-year-old girl. I bet you had all the hormonal boys falling at your feet.”

  I don’t answer him. He’s too close to my lips for my liking, and I need to distract him from kissing them. I lean into the side of his neck and press my lips to his throat, letting my tongue trail a line up his skin and then nibbling on the bottom of his earlobe.

  He sucks in a quick breath and puts his drink down. “You never answered my question,” he breathes.

  “I took a year off and then had to re-sit my A-levels,” I whisper against his skin. “Now are you going to fuck me or not?”

  I don’t have to ask him twice. Grabbing my hand, he pulls me swiftly off the sofa and to his side in one quick move. He drags me through the room, ignoring everyone that tries to speak to us, and pulls me up the stairs.

  “Does your stupid rule still apply?” he asks when he reaches a bedroom door.

  I stop for a moment and look into his deep brown eyes. I’m leaving soon. This will be fine. He’ll be fine. I won’t care that he hates me. He’ll be just another in a long line anyway.

  “Yes,” I tell him.

  Kieran smiles and starts to skim his fingers up my thigh until they disappear underneath my dress. “Well then, I guess I’d better make it a night that you won’t forget.”

  I giggle and start to unbutton his shirt as he pulls us into the bedroom. “Like I haven’t heard that before.”

  Kieran pulls the dress over my head with one quick tug and takes a step back. “I actually mean it though, Ariel.”

  “Okay then, show me what you’ve got.”

  Kieran tries to kiss me, but I turn and give him my cheek instead. “Not the lips,” I tell him.

  He pulls back, looking confused. “Why the fuck not?”

  I shake my head. “It’s complicated. Don’t ruin this.” I push my hand onto his crotch, feeling the resistance of his cock as it bounces back against my palm. “Come on,” I tease. “You don’t have to kiss me to fuck me.”

  “That’s what you do when you’re fucking a prostitute, Ariel, and you’re not one of those.” He pushes my hand away from his cock and crosses his arms. “You’re way too smart and way too pretty to be fucked like a whore.”

  I unhook my bra and let it fall to the ground. I watch his eyes devour me. “How do you know what it’s like to fuck a prostitute?”

  “That’s not the point right now,” he says, pushing his hands through his dark blonde hair while trying not to stare at my breasts.

  “Have you?” I ask.

  “No.”

  I place my hands on my breasts and start to squeeze them. “Really?”

  “Really,” he whispers, stepping towards me. “Anywhere else out of bounds that I should know about?”

  I shake my head.

  He plants a kiss on my shoulder, smiling against my skin as he does it. “You’re fucked up, Ariel,” he says.

  “I know,” I say, tipping my head back to expose my neck for him.

  “I think that’s why everyone loves you,” he tells me, nuzzling his way down my neck towards my breasts. “Or maybe it’s because you have an amazing pair of tits.”

  The shock of his warm mouth on one of my nipples and the soft nibble of teeth make me gasp. “It’s neither of those things,” I breathe, unbuttoning his jeans.

  “Oh?” he mumbles, cupping both of my breasts with his hands while rubbing his face in between them. “Well, what is it then?”

  I drop to my knees, pulling his trousers down with me. I see the bulge in his boxers before I tug them over his thighs, making his erection bounce right in front of my face. “They love me because I give the best blow jobs,” I tell him just before I take him into my mouth while staring in his eyes. I run my tongue along his shaft and then circle his little hole at the end, listening to him moan. I immediately begin to relax and sheath my teeth with my lips as I swallow him whole.

  This I can do.

  Chapter 3

  THEN

  The Hospital

  My eyelids drift closed and I don’t do anything to stop them this time. The pain in my head is taking over my ability to make decisions and follow through with them.

  “Miss Miller?”

  I force one eyelid back open and stare at the middle-aged woman. She smiles, but I don’t smile back.

  “Yes?” I croak.

  “Do you understand what you’ve just been told?”

  I’ve heard them tell me that I have a small fracture on my eye socket, a sprained wrist, lots of scratches and bruises, and a concussion. I know that I’ll be able to go home in a couple of days. “Yes,” I whisper. “What about my family, have you heard anything yet?”

 
With my one eye, I notice that she shuffles on her feet. I swallow the huge lump in my throat and look away. “The police are here,” she says, “and they want to speak to you. Do you feel up to it?”

  “Will they tell me about my family?”

  She nods. “I think so.”

  “Okay,” I say.

  I close my eye and try not to think about anything—thinking about it makes me want to rip my hair out. It makes me want to run and jump out of the window. They’re not telling me anything and they haven’t told me anything since I got here. I hear the door opening and then I hear feet moving across the floor.

  “Miss Miller, I am Detective Frank Jacobs.”

  “Good morning,” I mumble.

  “I’m sorry to inform you, Miss Miller, that your parents,” he flicks through some papers, but I’m still not looking at him, “Rebekah and Andrew, your two younger brothers, Caleb and Daniel, and your sister, Lily, all suffered fatal injuries during the traffic accident that happened on York Lane in the early hours of this morning.”

  I shudder. “And Michael?” I ask.

  He clears his throat. “Michael Miller is alive. He has a fractured tibia and fibula, a couple of broken ribs, a broken collar bone and a severe concussion, but he’s been able to talk.”

  I suck in a deep breath. Are they going to take me away now? Will they handcuff me to the bed and have a prison guard or a police officer sitting outside my room?

  “He’s confessed to driving while being intoxicated. He’s been formally arrested and will remain in our care until his hearing when he’s medically fit,” Detective Jacobs continues. “The two passengers in the car that your vehicle collided with have also passed away during the night.”

  My mind races back to the events of last night. I was driving. I was definitely driving. He might have leaned over and caused the crash, but why has he confessed to being the one that was driving the car?

  “He confessed?” I ask.

  “Yes, Miss.”

  “To driving the car?” I push.

  “Yes.”

  “And he was drunk?”

  “Yes,” he says. “Quite drunk, actually.”

  “He said that he’d only had the one beer,” I mumble.

  “It was a lot more than one beer,” he tells me.

  I nod. “Do I need to do anything?”

  He clears his throat, which makes me open my eyes. I’m staring at a short, fat man with no hair and bad teeth. “I’m sorry, Ariel.”

  I feel myself frowning. “What for?”

  He holds his hands out to his side. “For this.”

  I blink, looking around the room. “You’ve lost me.”

  He frowns. “I’m sorry for what’s happened.”

  “I was in a car crash,” I say.

  He nods.

  “Why are you sorry that I was in a car crash?”

  He pinches the skin between his eyes. “I thought the doctors had explained it all to you.”

  “They have,” I say, nodding. “They’ve told me about the scratches and bruises and this,” I say, holding my bandaged wrist up for him to see.

  “You don’t understand,” he says.

  “I don’t understand what?”

  “The situation you’ve found yourself in,” he says, clearly exasperated. “For losing five members of your family in the space of one night and then finding out that your brother is responsible for it.”

  What’s he talking about? I shake my head. “Do I need to do anything?” I ask again.

  He glances at his colleague, who must have been standing there without saying anything the whole time. “You need to get better,” he says.

  “Do I need to do anything?” I repeat.

  “Erm,” he says, clearing his throat again. “You need to get better.”

  I don’t understand. I’m not unwell. “For what?”

  “You have funerals to arrange.”

  “For who?” I ask.

  “Your family,” he says.

  “My family?”

  He nods. “Yes.”

  Oh God. It was real. It was all real.

  They’re dead.

  I have funerals to arrange. I have to tell people. I have to tell the school. I have to tell the post office so they don’t keep sending mail to the house. I have to visit my grandparents’ graves to tell them. My mum used to tell me that they’d always be listening when we went to their gravesites.

  Images start to flash through my head. My mum’s worried eyes in the mirror.

  She’s dead. They’re all dead.

  Caleb and Daniel screaming.

  I’m never going to see either one of them again.

  Lily’s lifeless eyes staring at me, her future ripped away from her in the space of seconds.

  She didn’t move. She was dead. What was the last thing I said to her? Shit, I can’t remember. I was holding her. I waved at her and blew her a kiss. Did I tell her that I loved her? I can’t remember.

  My father telling me he was proud of me.

  My mouth hangs open and a noise comes out of it that’s so guttural and animalistic, I don’t realise it’s me that’s making it until I notice the shocked expressions on the officers’ faces. I try to stop, but the noise doesn’t cease. I shut my mouth and the noise still comes out through my nose.

  Oh, God. Oh, shit. Oh, fuck.

  I suck in a few shuddering breaths and wipe my nose. It feels like I’ve been kicked in the stomach. I want to curl up and scream until I run out of breath and my lungs collapse in on themselves. I want to be with them.

  “My sister,” I whisper through my tears. “She was dead. Her eyes weren’t moving.” I have to stop talking because bile has flown up from my stomach and into my throat. I try to cover my mouth, but my injured wrist doesn’t do it properly. I puke all over the bed, the floor and myself. The detective looks at me in shock with wide, freaked-out eyes.

  Oh, God. “They’re dead,” I say.

  He nods slowly. “Yes. I’m so sorry.”

  “They’re all dead?”

  “Yes,” he says again. “And I’m sorry.”

  “They’re all fucking dead and it’s Michael’s fault!” I yell. I begin screaming like a crazy, wild animal, but I don’t care. I start to get out of the bed.

  “Ariel,” the detective says, “what are you doing? Get back into bed.”

  I throw my legs over the side and stagger out of bed. “I have to get to Michael,” I tell him.

  “You can’t,” he says, backing up towards the door.

  I hold on to the end of the bed as a wave of dizziness crashes over me. “I want to see him and I want to kill him!”

  “Ariel,” he says, “stop this.”

  If Michael hadn’t gotten out of his seat, none of this would have happened. If he hadn’t been drinking, then none of this would have happened. If I hadn’t told him my secret, then he wouldn’t have been drinking. It was my fault. I was driving. I was the one that caused Michael to drink. I did it. Me. I killed my family.

  The other officer rushes towards the bed and presses a big red button behind me. An alarm starts to sound out all around us as I collapse on the floor in front of them.

  Chapter 4

  NOW

  Packing

  “I can’t believe that we’re actually moving out of here.”

  I look around at the bare walls of our room and grin at Ruby. “We’ll be fine,” I tell her. I know she’s worried, but she really doesn’t need to be. “It’s just the same, except we’re going to be working all the time instead of studying. Nothing else will really change.”

  “It will,” she says, rushing over to me, plopping herself onto my bed. “We have to pay bills now. And if we don’t, then we’re out on our arses.”

  I shrug. That’s not going to be a problem for me, but I can’t tell her that. “We’ve both got good jobs, Rubes. It’s not like we’re going to struggle for money, is it?”

  She huffs and plucks at a duck feather that’s pe
eking out from the pillow. “I just don’t like change. And this is a massive change.”

  I have to try really hard to not roll my eyes at her. Ruby has a seriously bad case of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder or something very similar. I’m not quite sure because it’s not exactly my forte, but she’s definitely got something. It’s not all the time though, because her bad habit of leaving empty loo rolls on the bathroom floor really gets on my nerves. But she likes routine—like, serious routine. She does certain things on certain days and wakes at the same time according to what shift she’s on. She also eats exactly four hours after her last meal. It’s weird, but it’s Ruby.

  “Come on,” I say, nudging her knee. “This is what we’ve been working hard for all these years. It’s all been for this.”

  “I think the apartment we’ve chosen is too expensive for us,” she blurts.

  Ah, so this is why she’s been acting all crazy on me the last few days. I want to ask her how long she’s been worried about it, but I bite my tongue. I throw my childhood teddy bear into my bag, hoping she hasn’t noticed, and sigh. Loudly. “We’ve been through this before, Rubes,” I remind her. “We’ve both done the sums and we both agreed that we’d have plenty of money left over each month after all the bills.”

  She nods. “I’m just nervous.”

  “I know.”

  “I just need to get past the first month. Once I know we’re good for money, then I’ll be fine.”

  “Okay,” I say. I want to tell her why I know that we’ll be fine, but I can’t. She’s been my best friend since I was eighteen and she’s put up with my weirdness without asking any questions, but there are just some things she doesn’t need to know.

  Ruby goes back to her side of the room and packs the last few items from off her shelf. She doesn’t hide the fact that she saves her childhood things. I pull my suitcase off the bed and zip up my bag.

  “Who did you say was helping us?” she asks, pulling her suitcase off the bed and letting it drop heavily onto the floor.