by Jo Cotterill
You can’t look him in the eye. You hate lying to Rubes, because it feels like you’re lying to yourself too.
He takes your hand. “That’s crap and you know it,” he murmurs sadly. You look into his eyes, which are filled with pity, then look away.
He knows.
A lump appears in your throat.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Your voice drops its fake sniffle and fills with deep disappointment. “Because it meant nothing. Because I betrayed my father. Because my mum is so great to me and I’ve betrayed her too … when she came in here I wanted to cry. Because I kissed the guy I loathe with every fibre I possess. Because I feel disgusted with myself…”
“It’s OK, love. Don’t worry. I’m here – your sympathetic ear. It’s OK that you like him. It’s OK that you kissed him. It’s not—”
“Like him? LIKE him?!” you hiss. “I despise that sodding bastard, kiss or no kiss!” The volume of your voice is rising. “I never have, never did and never will LIKE Chris Banner as long as I live.”
Reuben looks at you, confused but sympathetic. He tries again.
“Seriously, Jen, don’t worry about it. I could tell you that no one knows, but that would be a lie. Misha Reeves is a bitch with a bigger gob than Ruby Wax, so it’s probable that that whole school knows by now, ’cause when you left, Misha told Helene and her friends, who then told everyone else. Then Chris came in. You should have seen his face. As soon as he realized what everyone was talking about, he ran for it too…”
You groan and cover your face with a pillow. Now guilt for Chris is added to your long list. All you can think about is you kissing him, initiating the kiss. This is awful! Rubes pulls the pillow firmly away from your face.
“Come on, Jen. Just ignore them. I mean, it’s not going to be hard. You’ve been doing it really well for the past few weeks.” You nod but can’t smile quite yet. How could I be so stupid? “Your feelings for Chris are normal, I swear.”
He squeezes your hand gently, but you flinch away like he has the plague.
“You don’t know how I feel. Why don’t you believe me? I hate Chris. The kiss was just acting.”
He studies you silently. You don’t like it when he does this. It’s like he’s looking into your soul.
“Why are you lying to yourself, Jen?” he whispers.
“I’m not lying! Why are you being such a loser? Why can’t you believe me? You don’t trust me. You’re so not my best friend.”
All the anger you have been feeling is rushing out of your mouth before you can stop it.
“No. You’re not my best friend at all! You think you can just waltz in here, diagnose me with some lame theory that is so whacked out it could be on Jerry Springer and tell me that everything is gonna be OK? That I’m ‘lying to myself’? That I like my worst enemy?”
You give a short hollow laugh.
“Oh no, Reuben. You’re the one who is lying. You’re the one who could do with a sympathetic bloody ear. You’re a scrawny fifteen-year-old gay whose only hobby is to ogle the cute waiter guy in The Caf every weekday morning and try to flirt with him when he doesn’t want any of it! You don’t have any other close friends apart from me, you dress like you have just come in off the streets, you can’t fight any of your own battles unless Chris is there to save your ass and you’re trying to give me advice?”
Your voice has stopped sounding like your own. You want to shut up, but you can’t. You know you are talking a load of crap but you can’t help it. The next few words roll out of your mouth with great venom.
“Shove your sodding advice or use it to set your own tragic life straight.”
Reuben is perched on the edge of your bed, stunned. His face is twisted in pain. Your icy glare shatters as soon as you see the consequences of what you’ve just done. You reach for his hand, but Reuben stands up. Suddenly, his face arranges itself into blankness, devoid of emotion, and he stares down at you.
“Thanks for telling me everything I always wanted to hear,” he whispers sarcastically, eyes glistening with unshed tears.
You try to speak but your throat is clogged up with too much emotion, so you end up opening and closing your mouth like a goldfish.
His lip trembles as he talks. “I won’t hang around any longer, in case me being the freakish loser-gay and all might cramp your style.”
He turns and strides out of the room, leaving you with hot tears running down your face, unable to breathe properly. The front door shuts downstairs. Your vision blurs and you choke, sobbing and shaking. Your heart feels like it’s being split in two.
What’s happening to me? you think. What have I done?
The next morning, you wake up feeling like trash. Life’s no better.
Feeling very sorry for yourself, you wander over to your wardrobe and fish out a black pair of Bench trousers with zips all the way from the floor to your thigh and a green shirt, the colour of moss, to bring out your eyes. It’s important to look good today. If the whole school is talking about you and Chris, then you at least need to look good enough to kiss.
After pulling on your clothes, still sleepy and depressed, you catch yourself in the mirror. Even after a reviving shower, your eyes are dull and puffy around the edges, and shot through with tiny red veins.
Kissable I’m not, you think. I look so awful.
You didn’t sleep at all last night. The argument that you had with Reuben was still fresh in your mind. So was the look of betrayal that had covered his face, his expression of hurt and pain. Like you had stabbed him in the back. Your last words to him haunted your fitful mind as you had tried to rest, but every time you had shut your eyes, his face appeared in replay over and over again. You wish that you had never said what you said. You didn’t mean any of it. You were just so confused. Confused about that kiss. That stupid, stupid kiss. And Chris.
It’s all his fault. If he had just left me alone, nothing would have happened, and I could have gone on hating him in peace. But now he’s kissed me, and I’ve turned into this freaking cow who lashes out at her only friend. God, this is such a mess…
You pull your hand through your hair and sigh deeply. You had been thinking like this all night. If only I had pushed him away… If we had just kissed on the stage nothing would have happened… Now you block Chris from your mind. You still can’t decide what you want from him: kisses or callousness? No, you think. I’m not gonna think about him until I apologize to Rubes.
The world is spinning around you and you’re afraid that if you try to explore your feelings you will fall flat on your face with no answers to your many questions. So no. You spent all day yesterday working out a plan. You’re gonna wait until everything stops whirling around. Then you’re going to make up with Rubes. And only then are you going to think about this messed-up situation with Chris.
You look over at the clock. It says 7.09 a.m. You bite your lip. You’ve got eleven minutes before Reuben is supposed to come and get you. But then, as you have done about a thousand times in the last twenty-four hours, you remember the look on Reuben’s face before he walked out of your door.
He won’t come, will he?
You creep out on to the landing and try to shut your door quietly, but you don’t manage it. The door across from yours springs open and there stands your big sister, Maddy.
This is exactly what I need, you think with a smile.
“Jay-Jay!”
Maddy is shorter than you by a couple of centimetres, with light brown hair that’s highlighted blonde and big, hazel-green eyes that mirror yours. She is always full of ideas and energy, even at this time in the morning, and is clearly on her way out for a run, wearing her tracksuit with one of her MP3 earphones in her left ear. Her eyes glitter as she grins at you and holds out her arms. You give her a small smile back, and walk over for a hug. She holds you tight and you remember how
much you love her. But you know that any minute now you are going to want to get out of this house faster than a bullet out of a gun.
She lets go and you wrap your arms around your waist.
“Glad to see you’re back again,” you whisper. “How’s student life? Uni still treating you well?”
“Yeah, it’s all good,” she whispers back. “I know my way around the campus now, thank God, so I don’t look like a complete idiot any more. Just a little bit of an idiot.” She smiles for a second, but then her expression becomes more serious. “So what’s up with you, baby sis? Mum said that you stayed off yesterday. You feeling sick?” She looks really worried. You feel bad again, but pin a smile on to your face.
“Yesterday I felt completely crap,” you whisper back, “but I’m fine now.”
She stares at you for a second, then shakes her head.
“Nope. I don’t believe you. Tell me what’s up. Who is it? You had a fight with Rubes? Mum said he left pretty quickly yesterday. Or is it that witch, Misha Reeves? God, I remember her sister was just as bad. Walking around, thinking she should get everything just given to her. Anyway, was it her? Or is it someone else?”
You hesitate.
“Yeah, it’s both of those.”
You spoke too quickly. You’ve never been able to lie to Maddy, she’s always been able to see through you. Now isn’t going to be an exception.
“What is it?”
You sigh. Here it comes. “It’s Chris Banner.”
Your sister’s smile drops and her face darkens like a storm.
“Banner?”
You nod. This is what I wanted to avoid…
“What have I always told you? Stay away from the Banners. What happened?”
You shift uncomfortably. You don’t know what to say.
I’m definitely not telling her about yesterday. What should I tell her? What should I say?
“Well, he’s Romeo. So it’s kind of hard to avoid him. And he’s just being his normal asshole-ish self. And yesterday I felt run down, and I couldn’t face school knowing that I would have to see him when I was feeling like crap. So I stayed home.”
Maddy looks at you for a second, then her thunder-face disappears.
“OK. Well, today just try to stay out of his way. You know what he’s like.”
You feel a small pang of resentment towards that statement and at the disgusted look on your sister’s face when she talks about the Banners, but you force it down to somewhere near your toes so that you can forget about it. You brighten and make towards the stairs. “Anyway, I have to go, so see you later!”
Maddy smiles, nods, and disappears back into her room for her trainers. You rush down the stairs, wet hair flying, to switch on the kettle for your mum. The microwave clock reads 7.24 a.m.
Reuben definitely isn’t coming. For the first time in four years.
I’ve made such a mess of everything … I need to find Rubes.
You shout a goodbye to both of your parents, then practically run down to The Caf.
Panting slightly, you push open the door to the inviting aroma of freshly ground coffee, but you hardly notice it as you examine the room for signs of your buddy. You bite your lip as you examine each table for a second time. He’s not here… You see Misha and she immediately stands up and pushes her way through the hordes of people to get to you.
To what do I owe this painfully inescapable honour?
“Will you just move out of my way, please? I do not want to touch you.”
She gets through the last group of people and smiles at you as she reaches your side, takes your arm between two of her evil fingers and tries to steer you into the crowd as she talks distractedly at top speed.
“Listen,” she laughs, “about you and Chris – I swear I only told a few friends, but you know, one person tells another and another and pretty soon everybody knows—”
“Have you seen Reuben?”
You stand still so she can’t pull you along any more.
Misha rolls her eyes and stares at you, waiting for an explanation. When you don’t give her one, she folds her arms and sighs. “Why? Did he get jealous ’cause you’ve stopped waiting for him to turn straight, and got yourself a love life?”
You ignore her. “Have you seen him or not, Misha?”
She pouts. “Might’ve. This morning. He didn’t look very happy. But then again I wouldn’t if—”
“Where did he say he was going?”
She pauses theatrically.
“I don’t know why I should tell you. I’m trying to be nice to you even though you keep on interrupting me, but I am actually a very nice person, so I will tell you where he’s gone so you can go make up.”
She stops talking, clearly planning to force you into some kind of apology. You feel like you could cry with exasperation.
“OK, I’m sorry, just where has he gone?” you rush.
Misha smiles again and places her hands on her hips.
“Well, he didn’t say exactly where he was going, but he was heading in the direction of the park…”
She carries on talking but you stop listening. The park? That’s way out from school. In fact, that’s near to our primary school. It’s near to—
“The Orchard!” you whisper.
Misha snaps out of her talk.
“What?”
You turn back to the door and break into a run.
You can just about hear Misha call after you “You’re welcome!” but the door has swung shut, and you are already sprinting down the street and can’t hear her.
The Orchard, the Orchard … he’s got to be at the Orchard…
Ever since the summer that you met Reuben, the two of you have had a “Special Place”, a place where nobody could find you and you were safe from the world. An overgrown wood of trees and shrubs near to the park, open to anyone who wants to use it. Whenever important things happened in either of your lives, this is where you would come to sort things out. Sometimes you come here alone if you feel lost or confused, just because all the happy memories that you have shared with Reuben echo in the trees, giving you a sense of understanding and stability. You remember that your roots are with these trees, and your best friend, who you know will be with you until the end.
I hope…
You arrive, but there is no sign of him anywhere amongst the trees. Your heart breaks, realizing that maybe you really have destroyed your friendship. You wipe a tear from your cheek, pull yourself together and walk back in the direction of school, praying that you find him soon.
You spend the day either searching the school for Reuben or trying to get away from all the whispering and gossiping about you and Chris. Your aim was to find Reuben, but now it’s near the end of the day and you still haven’t found him. Where the hell is he hiding?
Then, just before the last bell, you see him outside. You sprint out of your classroom and catch his arm, tugging him round to face you.
“I’m sorry!” you gasp. “I’m so sorry, Rubes. I don’t know what came over me. I’m just so confused right now. I don’t know what happened with Chris, and I’m just trying to sort things out in my head. I can’t tell myself how I feel, let alone—”
“A friendless fag with no life?” Reuben butts in, his face devoid of emotion and eyes hauntingly distant. But his voice – his voice is what hurts you the most. The dull, resigned, carelessly sarcastic tone that is so unlike your Reuben that you want to cry. You release your grip on his arm, speechless. He turns to walk away again. No, you think. You can’t walk away. I have to put this right.
“Rubes!” you call out in a strangled cry. “Don’t do this. Please. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean those things. It wasn’t me!”
He doesn’t even turn to look at you. “It was you, Jen. It just turns out that you’re not the person I thought you wer
e.”
You stand in the courtyard, the classes emptying around you as you watch his back disappearing into crowd.
How did I make such a mess of things?
You are in rehearsal now. You have been onstage for about five minutes, going over some soliloquies. You keep reading as the heavy door creaks open. You can only just hear it over the din of the rest of the cast practising in the hall. You carry on talking, your lines flowing like magic off your tongue, as sweet as honey, but filled with the rawness and emotion you feel right now. Chris pulls himself on to the stage too, and prepares himself for his lines. You feel the anger boil in you.
It’s all your fault, Banner, it’s all your fault, you think.
You have finished your bit without realizing, and Mrs Walker turns to watch another group’s scene in rehearsal. You turn and see Chris standing shyly in front of you with a serious but curious smile on his face. Something shifts in your stomach and you get the wave of emotion that you feel every time you are around him now, caused by the ruffle of his hair, the lopsided casualness of his smile, the crystal brightness of his eyes … but you can’t place the feeling. All you know is that it is strong. And that you think he is gorgeous but deadly, and the sole cause of Reuben not talking to you. Even though you are both at the rehearsal, he has avoided and blanked you all afternoon.
Anger flames inside you and you feel it rise. There’s nothing that you can do to stop it. You walk over to Chris and glare at him. His small smile drops from his face and his expression becomes guarded.
“I never want to speak about the other day again. I feel sick just thinking about it.”
Chris’s face falls first into a look of hurt, and then a look of disgust to match your own.
“Even though it was acting,” you carry on, “I don’t want to do that again. Ever. I spent yesterday brushing my teeth and retching, and I can hardly look at you now. But if you ever, ever kiss me again, I will kill you,” you hiss.
Chris just smirks, which pisses you off even more.
“I’ve come across decomposed bodies that are less offensive than you are, Anderson, and I wouldn’t go near you again even if you paid me. Looking at you was hard before our little interlude, and I had to stop myself gagging then. But now? Now, I’ve…” he shudders. “Well, now, I think I might just die of toxic shock. Unless you kill me first.”
