Love My Crazy

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Love My Crazy Page 4

by Rachel Medhurst


  How dare he? How dare he? How dare he? What had he done?

  I didn’t care that I’d unintentionally made him believe the boy was dead. He might well be. I had heard of people that got stabbed and seemed okay, but when they got to the hospital, they’d died because of internal injuries. I hoped so much that the boy would be okay.

  I fell to the floor. The tension left my body but the sobs kept coming. My eyes hurt from the salty water that refused to stop flowing. I was a heap on the floor. I had no one. The friend who I saw as my family, had done something that made me sick to my stomach. What was I doing with my life?

  There he was again. In my head. The boy who’d told me that I had a choice. I had to speak to him. I had to know what his secret was. He seemed to know what he was talking about, didn’t he? What was going on with my life? My mum was mental. I was feeling mental. Tommy was acting mental, and now, there was a boy laid up in hospital. I’d had a part in that too. I had to speak to the boy. And soon.

  Chapter Seven

  I kept glancing at the door whenever someone came through it. I knew that he would be in today. I don’t know how I knew, but I just knew. The shop was quiet. The morning rush had been over for a while. I wasn’t even bothering to make myself look occupied.

  Leaning against the counter, I drew a face in the spilt sugar with my finger. The door went again. I looked up. There he was. About bloody time, too. He grinned as soon as he saw me, raising his eyebrows as I came around the counter.

  “I’ve been waiting for you.” I paused when he walked straight past me and up to the counter. He turned and smiled again.

  “Can I have a hot chocolate, please?”

  I glared at him. The cheek of it, how dare he just walk straight past me?

  “Only if you tell me your name…” It just came out. I had planned on being all stand-offish and hard to get. You know, trying to lure him in. Not that I wanted to lure him in, in a fancy him kind of way. It was more of a, you know something and I want in on it, kind of way. If that makes sense. No, it didn’t to me, either.

  “Scott.” He bowed.

  I clenched my hand. It was about to reach out and hit him over the top of his head. Ignoring his stupid gesture, I went to make him a hot chocolate. When I turned around, he was sitting over in the window booth. I told my colleague that I was going for my break before going to him. Sitting down, I handed him the drink.

  “Scott, I need to ask you something,” I said, looking down at the table.

  “Yes, you can change your life.” He sipped his chocolate and smiled at me.

  How could he be so cheerful all the time? The dimples in his cheeks were constantly showing. It wasn’t the question I was going to ask, but the answer was something that made me think.

  “How…?” I hated asking.

  There was a flutter in my chest for some reason. I wasn’t sure why the thought of being able to change my life made me nervous. I didn’t believe him, anyway. Even if he gave me some ideas, I bet I wouldn’t be able to do any of them. I had no money or support. Not that I needed support, anyway. I could do everything on my own.

  “By changing how you look at things, that’s how.”

  He looked smug. As if he’d just imparted the biggest secret to life. What the bloody hell was he talking about? Idiot!

  “Look, this is serious…something…” I let my words trail off.

  I couldn’t tell him what had happened last night. The others were bound to be in to check on me soon.

  “I’m being serious, life is a mind-set. It’s the way that you look at things that determines what’s going to happen in your life.”

  He was being serious. That smile was nowhere to be seen. The riddle confused me. He must’ve thought I was really thick. The way I looked at things…?

  “So, I’m trying to grasp what you’re saying. The way I look at things…”

  “Let me give you an example. Say someone you know is ill and has to go to hospital. Now, you can look at it two ways. You can think that it’s awful and bad. Or, you can choose to look at it differently. You can think, well, at least that person is going to get the help they need to get better. You see what I mean?”

  I had gone completely still. He was talking about my mum, I was sure. Usually, my temper would have risen, and I would’ve slapped him or something. But for some reason, a little feeling inside stopped me. I wondered what it was. I’d never felt it before.

  He watched me closely. His eyes were clear and so bloody positive. Why did he have to know exactly what he was talking about? He must have a wonderful life, all fairy tales and pirates. I bet he’d never had a bad day in his life.

  “Have you ever had a bad time in your puny little life?”

  I couldn’t help it. I had to hit out. I glared but consciously tried to clear my face.

  “Hasn’t everyone? No one is perfect, even if I look like I am,” he laughed.

  The red blush that crept up his neck and onto his cheeks made me smile. If he’d been that cocky in real life, I would’ve stood up and left him sitting there. The fact that he blushed made me stay where I was. I couldn’t help it. The cute boy blushed at my expense. Cute…? Did I think he was cute? Quick, I needed to change it to stupid. The stupid boy was blushing.

  “Okay, so that seems like a good idea, but is it really that easy?”

  My brain was on overload. I wasn’t the smartest book in the coffee shop. I tried to grasp what he was saying without making a prat out of myself.

  “No, not when you’ve been trained to think in a negative way. Not just with drastic situations like my example but with everyday life.” He gestured around us. “Like that woman who’s just dropped a pound on the floor.” He stood and retrieved the lost pound. Following the woman, he spoke to her. When he sat back down opposite me, he handed me the pound. I raised my eyebrows. I saw him try to hand it back to her.

  “She said I could have it. You see, if she’d lost it, she would probably be angry, but imagine if a homeless person found it. He could do with a pound much more than someone who can afford to come and have a coffee and slice of cake in here. If the woman chose to think that the pound probably went to someone who needed it more than her, she’d have peace of mind, rather than being angry. You get it?”

  I could see his point. If something I viewed as bad happened to me, but benefited someone else, then it wouldn’t be as awful as I’d originally thought.

  Hope…that’s what that emotion was. It started to tickle my belly. I tried to push it away. I hadn’t felt hope for many years.

  “What you said about my mum…I mean, the person going into hospital…” The words were out of my mouth before I could bite them back.

  I flushed and looked down at the table. His hand came over mine, making me jump. I pulled away and looked directly at his face. My wall came up around me.

  “You can talk to me.”

  “I was only going to say that it makes sense. Rather than seeing everything as if it’s bad, it’s better to try and see the good in it. What if there really isn’t any good in it, though?”

  I thought about the boy that lay in my lap last night, his blood pissing out of his body and onto the floor. I coughed and shook my head.

  “There’s always something to learn in every situation that we find ourselves in. Life is a school and we’re just its students.”

  “Now you’ve gone all phily on me.” I chuckled looking over at the time. Crap, I needed to get back to work.

  “Phily?” He followed my gaze before he stood.

  “Yeah, you’ve gone all Socrates on me.” I stood too.

  He laughed and picked up his backpack.

  “Are you around after work? We could carry on with our conversation.”

  “I suppose so, yeah, but not for long, my mum’s back tonight.” I looked at the floor.

  “How about I come to yours?”

  “But…”

  What was he talking about? I’d just told him that my nuts mother woul
d be back in the house. I hardly knew the boy and he wanted to come to my house? To the shithole of a pit I slumbered in? Sleeping was all I did in the bricks that surrounded the messy place. I had to admit, I probably could do a bit more to help, but I couldn’t decorate everything. I’d done a spring clean in preparation for my mum coming home, though, so that was something.

  “Or we could meet in a park somewhere?”

  He started to back away from me. He obviously needed to be somewhere. My colleague waved to let me know that she was taking her break.

  “Do you know the children’s park on the Blackbird estate?”

  It was near where I lived. I felt safer being out in the open. Not safe from him, but safe from the embarrassment of the boy seeing my home.

  “Yeah, I’ll meet you there about four, okay?”

  I nodded as he turned and rushed out of the door, walking straight into Jack, who was coming in through it.

  “Watch where you’re going, man,” Jack called as Scott mumbled an apology and carried on. “Jeysus, Nat, what type of clientele do you have in this here dump-hole?”

  “Shut it, you’re here, ain’t you?”

  I stood back behind the counter and took my mates” orders. Tommy was jittery. His hands were all over the place. He started off with them tucked in his pockets, then rubbed his face, then his hair. He looked at me and gave me his, Yeah, what? look. I didn’t get the boy. He was changing into someone I didn’t recognise.

  “I’m sorry, babe, alright. I didn’t mean to,” he stuttered his words, not looking into my eyes.

  “Have you managed to find anything out?”

  I’d thought about calling the hospital to see how the lad was doing, but I didn’t want to put myself in danger. If the pigs found out I’d called, they’d probably be able to find out who I was.

  “Yeah, my mum rang. She told them she that was at the club and had seen the boy get chucked out and wanted to make sure he was okay. They told her that it was confidential. She got a bit hysterical, so they reassured her that he was alive and doing okay.” Tommy nodded as he spoke. He was obviously waiting to get caught. I still couldn’t look him in the eye.

  I passed them their drinks as they crowded around.

  “Nat, can I come see you tonight?” Tiff looked just as bad as Tommy. Her hair was messy and her eyes were puffy. She was my oldest friend and the only one in the group who really knew my mum well.

  “Yeah, but not till later, about eight?”

  Tiff nodded and went to sit at a table. Jack followed her. Tommy looked at me and then shook his head.

  “How did he look?”

  “How do you think he bloody looked?” I sneered.

  My stomach knotted as my hands shook. I turned away and dumped a cup in the washing up bowl. I took a few deep breaths, then went back to him.

  “Alright, I get that you’re angry, woman, but come on. I need you now, don’t I? We’re family, and it’s time to stick together, ain’t it?”

  As he wiped his forehead, I saw a glimpse of the young boy I had made friends with at school. He hadn’t had any friends and his confidence was on the floor. I wasn’t surprised, really. In the summer of that year we were ten. The boys thought they’d show off by walking around with no tops on. One day, Tommy took his off and we all noticed the bruises on his back.

  His dad beat him; he’d told us. The man was a labourer, struggling to find work. He took his frustration out on Tommy and his brother. Like my brother Darren, Tommy’s brother had buggered off as soon as he’d had the chance. I softened as I remembered that little lost boy. Nothing had changed, only his age.

  “Don’t ever do anything like that again. I mean it, Tommy, he didn’t deserve it.” I glared at him.

  “He did…”

  “Really…?”

  I leant forward on the counter. My eyes were burning; I could feel them. He shook his head and looked down. So he should, little bugger. He was being a self-righteous wrong-doer, getting all defensive when he’d stabbed some dude up, good and proper.

  “No, he didn’t, alright? You happy now…?”

  “No, you should send him some flowers.”

  I giggled. I couldn’t help it. The puppy dog look on his face made me feel sick, if I was honest. Tommy didn’t do, not so tough boy, well. He was much better at being a dickhead.

  He looked at me as a small smile tried to find its way to his mouth.

  “Okay, and some grapes too, yeah…?” He winked at me and went to the table.

  I spent most of my time in the coffee shop. It was boring as hell. I couldn’t wait to finish my shift. The time ticked on as I wondered if my friends would go before I finished. How would I explain to them that I was meeting another boy? Just as I had the thought, they stood up and came over.

  “We’re off now, see you tonight, yeah?” Tiff said.

  She wouldn’t make eye contact with anyone. As I’d watched them messing around, I noticed her whole body was stiff, and she wasn’t joining in much. She must feel like I did about what happened the night before. In fact, she probably felt worse, considering it was her arse that had started the whole thing.

  “Yeah, I’ll see you later.”

  The boys joked about as they walked out. Just like they always did. I couldn’t remember ever seeing them being serious. Boys would be bloody boys.

  Chapter Eight

  “You know you’re beautiful, right?”

  It was a matter of fact question. He wasn’t giving me a compliment, he was just being factual. It made me a little tense. Did he think I was beautiful?

  “I don’t know about beautiful, but all the boys seem to give me attention,” I replied.

  We sat on a bench in the park. Things were a little too humdrum to me nowadays. All I ever seemed to see in my world was the park, my rock, the shite house I lived in, and work. I’d had enough of it. Scott spread his arms across the back of the seat. I sat at the other end, facing him, with my legs crossed under me.

  “Now therein lies a problem,” he muttered, letting his head fall back.

  The sun stroked the clear skin on his spotless face. How comes he had no spots? Most people our age were well spotty, but no, not him, he had perfect skin. It was so annoying. Why was he always the one asking questions? What about him? He was probably from a posh part of town and going to some top college.

  “What?”

  I looked away from him, towards the swings. A couple stood there with their two young children. They caressed each other as they played with the kids. They were obviously madly in love and their children were glowing. I’d never seen anything like it. Well, not around there anyway. They must be a family from out of town or something. All happy, and touchy, and loving, and cute, and yuck, yuck, yuck…

  “You don’t love yourself.”

  My gaze tore away from the grossness and landed on his. He’d turned to me, leaning closer. I pulled back and looked down at the bench. What the bloody hell was he talking about?

  “No offence, but are you gay or something?”

  Why would he say such a weird thing? I don’t love myself. Of course I did. Well, I thought I did. To be honest, as I sat there, I wondered if I even knew what the word love meant.

  He laughed and shook his head, going back to his relaxed position.

  “You said that I had the choice not to have a shitty life. You said it as if it was my fault that my life is shit.”

  I reached up to take my hair out of its band. My scalp hurt like a bitch. I had to release the pressure. I rubbed at my head to relieve the pain, not caring that it looked a mess.

  “What if there was no blame in the world? What if, actually, it was no one’s fault?”

  “How can that be possible?”

  “What if your life wasn’t shit, but actually just a way to teach you?” He lifted his head again and grinned at me. It wouldn’t be long before I punched that smug little face.

  “You’re talking in riddles again, Scotty boy,” I said, pushing h
is arm.

  “No, think about it. When something has happened in the past, we learn from it. For instance, when we eat a chilli, we learn that it’s hot and burns our mouth. If we like the sensation, we eat it again, if not, we leave well alone. When we hurt ourselves doing something, we tend not to do it again, if we can help it. When someone we love is ill, we send them to hospital over and over again, because even though it feels horrible to us, we know it’s the only way that person will get better.”

  He tried to put his hand on mine. What was it with the touchy, touchy? I pulled away and spun, sitting forward on the bench.

  “Why do you keep bringing up my mum?”

  I didn’t like the feeling he brought up in me. I felt open and exposed to someone I didn’t even know.

  “Because I want you to know that you’re doing the best you can. We’re all taught how to live by what we’re surrounded by. I’m assuming that you don’t have anyone else to help you with your mum, so you’re doing the best you can with what you know. In fact, we all are. Your mates, me, and the people that live down the street. They learnt from their parents and surroundings. Then their grandparents learnt from their parents and so it becomes a pattern. Does that make sense?”

  Funnily enough, the idiot did make sense. My brother had never known what to do with Mum so hadn’t done anything. The only reason I knew what to do was because I had learnt in school that I should call an ambulance or the police when there was an emergency. So, when I came home at the age of nine to find mum passed out on the floor, I’d called an ambulance and they’d carted her off to the psyche ward.

  “Yeah, it makes sense.”

  “And do you love yourself?”

  The happy couple and their brats went out of the park, waving at us as they passed. I ignored them cos my over-eager friend waved back enough for the both of us.

  “I’ve no idea,” I confessed.

  I still hadn’t grasped what he meant.

 

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