Unspeakable

by Abbie Rushton

  I copy the link and email it to her, with the subject line: You’re stunning. I imagine her reaction – the way she’ll blush, then do that lovely half-smile thing she does. I think Jasmine might be starting to believe me. I pay her compliments all the time, and stop her when she pulls faces at herself in the mirror.

  I bound downstairs and lead Mum up to the computer. ‘Oh my God!’ she shrieks, jumping up and down like a child on a trampoline. ‘It’s your photo!’

  We have a few mad moments of dancing around, until Mum collapses on her bed, declaring that she’s ‘too old’ for all this.

  I’ll be starting sixth form in three weeks. Three weeks! How am I going to deal with a new place? With all those people who don’t know that I can’t speak? Why do I have to make things harder on myself? I should’ve stuck with Barcham Green. Then at least I’d be moving up with Jasmine.

  Things are good between us. We’ve been stealing kisses here and there. Something has awoken and expanded inside me, like the leaves of a fern uncoiling from a tight spiral. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it. Neither of us is sure what ‘it’ is yet, but that’s OK.

  I’ve been delaying telling Jasmine the truth about Hana. Tomorrow, I think. I’ll tell her tomorrow. But every day we spend together, we grow closer, and that just makes it more difficult. How’s she going to feel about me when she knows who I really am?

  I can’t keep finding excuses, though. Jasmine deserves to know everything, before ‘it’ becomes something else, something more.

  I need to do it for me, too. Mr Harwell is right. I have to break down that dam, even though I’m scared that I’ll lose myself if I let it all back in.

  In the end, it’s the date that decides for me. The eighteenth of August. The day my life was fractured into pieces, and I lost parts of myself I never recovered.

  Jasmine and I are lounging in my back garden, our hands linked.

  ‘We need to talk,’ I say.

  Keep your mouth shut.

  Jasmine sits up. ‘What about?’

  Leave it alone.

  Please, just let me get the words out.

  NO! DON’T YOU DARE!

  ‘Megan, what is it? What’s the matter?’

  DON’T TELL ANYONE.

  ‘It’s been exactly a year since Hana died.’

  BITCH!

  ‘Oh, Megan. I’m so sorry. You poor thing. You should’ve said earlier.’

  ‘There’s more.’ Hot tears chase each other down my cheeks as I force each word out. ‘Hana’s death. It … it was my fault.’

  MURDERER.

  Jasmine drops my hand. ‘It was just an accident, Megan. I get why you blame yourself, but it honestly wasn’t your fault.’

  ‘No. I killed her. I damaged the rope on the swing.’

  YOU’RE FINISHED.

  Jasmine stands abruptly, almost tripping over her own feet. ‘What?’

  ‘I killed her,’ I repeat.

  ‘Megan, you’re not making any sense.’

  ‘I’ll tell you. Just sit down.’

  ‘Sit down? No. You can’t … you can’t just dump something like that on me! You’ve just told me that you killed … I can’t … you killed someone? Your best friend. I … don’t … I don’t know … Who the hell are you, Megan?’

  I scramble up. ‘I can explain, I swear. Just stay. Please.’ I gently touch her hand, but she flinches as if I’ve burned her.

  ‘Don’t.’ Jasmine’s voice almost cracks; her eyes are blazing. ‘If … if you’re saying you’re capable of that … What else, Megan?’

  I can barely stand to look at her, to see that beautiful face clouded by suspicion. I reach for her once more. ‘Just listen—’

  ‘No.’ Jasmine shakes her head, backing away. ‘I can’t do this.’

  She spins on her heel and charges out of the garden. I call after her, begging her to stay, but she’s gone.

  What have I done?

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  It started with a text. I remember everything about the day Hana got that text, from the catkin-shaped rust patch she’d noticed on her bike in the morning, to the hot heaviness in the air as I waited for her outside the shop.

  Hana bounded out, without the promised Maltesers or Cokes, her eyes bright. ‘Look what I’ve got!’ she said, waving her phone in front of me.

  I frowned, trying to focus on the moving blur. ‘What? What is it?’

  ‘A text!’

  ‘From who?’

  ‘Grace.’

  My stomach scrunched into knots. ‘What does she want?’

  ‘She’s inviting me to a party at the ridge on Saturday.’

  ‘Why does she suddenly want to be friends again?’

  ‘I dunno. But we can both go.’

  ‘I don’t think so!’

  Hana looked shocked, then a little hurt. ‘Why not?’

  ‘It’s obvious why not!’

  She stared at me blankly, so I said, ‘It’s some nasty joke. They’re just inviting you to take the piss.’

  Hana fixed me with her best glare. ‘You’re just jealous.’

  I snorted. ‘I don’t care. Do you seriously want to hang around with them?’

  ‘Maybe I’ve grown up.’

  I shot her a sharp look. ‘And I haven’t?’

  ‘I didn’t say that. Look, this is stupid. Why don’t you come along?’

  ‘No. They asked you, not me.’

  ‘Don’t be like that. Come on, Megan, why don’t you try something new for a change? Don’t be such a wuss!’

  Hana strutted around, sticking out her neck and flapping her arms like wings. I pretended to ignore her, until she started making clucking noises, then I slapped her lightly on the arm, laughing. ‘I’m not a chicken. I can do crazy stuff.’

  ‘Yeah, right!’

  I shrugged. ‘Whatever.’

  ‘Look, if it goes well, and I get to sit with them at school, I’ll make sure you get invited over. Promise.’

  ‘What, to sit with Sadie?’

  ‘God, she’s not that bad!’

  ‘Apparently not, seeing as you’re so desperate to become one of her Barbie clones.’

  There was silence as we both tried to stare the other down. My cheeks felt crimson and Hana’s eye was doing that weird twitchy thing it did when she was wound up.

  I sighed. ‘Just do what you like. It’s fine.’

  ‘It’s not though, is it? I want you to come, but I’ll go on my own if I have to.’

  ‘As if your parents will let you!’

  ‘I’ll work something out. Tell them I’m at yours. They won’t find out.’

  ‘They will if I tell them.’ It was cruel, but I was willing to throw anything at Hana to stop her from making such a massive mistake.

  Hana gasped. ‘Don’t you dare! Don’t even think about it, Megan. If you do, I’ll never speak to you again, I swear.’

  ‘Well, if you go to the ridge on Saturday, I’ll never speak to you again.’

  Hana took a deep, shaky breath, but didn’t release it. I watched her, transfixed. It felt like everything was hanging on that breath. She was wavering. But then her eyes hardened and I knew she’d made up her mind. I wanted to walk away, cover her mouth, anything to stop her from speaking.

  ‘I’m sorry, Megan,’ she said in a sad, soft voice. She got on her bike and, without a backward glance, cycled away.

  I watched until she was just a tiny, Hana-shaped speck at the end of the road, then she swung round the corner by the Post Office and was gone.

  I knew what would happen next. Sadie would poison Hana, turn her against me. I was going to lose my best friend: the only person who hadn’t laughed when I slipped on a sanitary towel wrapper on the first day of Year 7 and fell flat on my back; who made me giggle when she put cherry tomatoes in her cheeks and slapped them so hard the juice squirted out of her mouth; who missed a sci-fi convention she’d been raving about for weeks so she could stay with me on the day I found out Grandpa had cancer.


  How would I manage without her?

  I couldn’t get out of bed the next morning. Not until I’d decided what to do. Did I give Hana more time to figure out what she wanted? She must’ve known she’d have to change to fit in with them. Wouldn’t she realise it wasn’t worth it, just to be popular?

  I had to try one more time. I marched over to Hana’s house, firming up my argument in my mind, rehearsing what I was going to say. But when I got to the front door, I hesitated. What if I made things worse?

  No. She was my best friend. I wasn’t giving up without a fight. I rang the bell, my chest squeezing. After several, quick heartbeats, the door opened. I instantly searched Hana’s face as I tried to figure out if she was still mad.

  She gave me a brief smile. ‘Have you changed your mind? Are you coming now?’

  ‘No. I was going to try to change your mind.’

  The smile dropped straight away. ‘Well, you might as well not have bothered. I’m allowed to have other friends, Megan.’

  ‘But your choice in other friends is crap.’

  Hana scowled. I’d never seen her look so scathing. ‘You’re being a total bitch, you know that?’

  I did. Part of me did. But I still couldn’t stop myself.

  ‘I’m the bitch? You’re the one who’s betraying her best friend!’

  ‘You’re overreacting. You should leave.’

  She tried to slam the door in my face. I put my foot out to stop it and it bounced back, straight into her hand.

  Hana screamed. ‘God! What’s your problem?’

  I felt sick. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to …’

  ‘Shut up! I don’t want to hear it. Leave me alone.’

  ‘Fine.’

  But it wasn’t fine. Not at all. There was an even bigger wedge between us. Hana was making it so easy for Sadie to swoop in and tear us apart. Why was she letting this happen? Did our friendship mean so little to her?

  I went straight to the only other person I could talk to. Luke. ‘Screw Hana,’ he said. ‘If she wants to go off with Sadie, let her. Why don’t we have our own party? We can have fun without her.’

  I wasn’t sure. It didn’t sound like much of a party if it was just Luke and me. But what else was I going to do? Just sit around at home, stewing about Hana?

  Luke and I met in the forest at night. Years ago, Owen’s dad had built this swing – a circle of wood with a hole through the middle for a rope – and hung it on a tree above a river. Everyone knew that only Owen and his mates got to use it. Anyone else would be in serious trouble if they were caught.

  It didn’t worry Luke that night, though. ‘Owen’s a tosser,’ he said, slopping his beer everywhere as he clambered on to the swing. ‘I dunno what you all see in him.’ He put on a high-pitched, girly voice: ‘Owen’s so hot! He’s well fit. Have you seen his abs?’

  I giggled. ‘I don’t get it either. He’s nothing special.’ I took another swig of Lambrini. It was gross. I almost couldn’t swallow it, but I made myself. I’d show Hana.

  An almost-full moon poked through the trees as Luke swung over the water, his face dappled with the shadows of leaves. Someone had tied a strip of glow-in-the-dark material around the rope, like those dorky things cyclists wear around their ankles, and it gleamed yellow in the darkness.

  ‘I can’t believe Hana’s going off with them,’ I said.

  ‘I tell you what we should do,’ Luke replied, with a laugh. ‘We should mess with Owen’s precious swing. I’m not scared of him.’

  I frowned. I thought we were talking about Hana?

  Luke pulled a penknife from his pocket. It flashed in the moonlight as he drew out one of the blades.

  My gut clenched. I suddenly felt very cold. What was he doing with that?

  Luke had stopped swinging and was just swaying slightly in the breeze, his eyes fixed on the blade. ‘We could fray the rope here, see?’ he said quietly, almost to himself. ‘The wood will cover it so no one will notice. The next time someone sits on it, the rope will snap and they’ll fall straight into the water.’ He threw his head back and laughed.

  I took a step away and smiled uncertainly.

  ‘What do you reckon?’ he asked.

  I wondered if Hana would be the next person to use the swing. If she got in with Sadie’s gang, she’d be allowed to use it. I pictured her face as she clambered out of the river, sopping wet, while Sadie and her mates cracked up. My cheeks flushed, instinctively feeling her shame. That was how it had always been with Hana – I felt everything that she felt. Then I reminded myself that she was turning her back on me, that soon she wouldn’t think twice about laughing when Sadie called me a freak or a loser.

  ‘I hope it’s Hana,’ I spat. ‘Would serve her right.’

  ‘Here you go.’ Luke slipped the blade back in and lobbed the penknife towards me. It landed in the dirt by my feet. I picked it up, felt the solid weight of it in my palm, and curled my fingers around it.

  ‘Luke?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘What’s going on with you and Hana?’

  ‘Don’t worry about it, Megan. Stop thinking about her. You should drink more.’

  Should I? I already felt pretty pissed. I’d made my point: that I wasn’t as boring as Hana thought, that I could be just as fun as Sadie. But Hana’s words were still ringing around my head. Leave me alone. You’re being a total bitch. Don’t be such a wuss! You’re just jealous.

  I took Luke’s advice. I drank more. A lot more. So much that I don’t really remember the rest of the evening.

  On the night of Sadie’s party, I did what any self-respecting best friend would do: I gatecrashed. I waited until it was dark, then cycled over to one of the car parks. There were bikes strewn across the gravel and music and laughter floated across on the warm summer breeze.

  It was a ten-minute walk to the ridge. I turned the torch off when I got close. I fumbled around in the dark, tripped once, and tried not to swear too loudly.

  I lingered in the shadows, watching. The moon lit everything up like a giant spotlight. Hana was there, plus Sadie, Grace, Lindsay, Josh and Ben. The girls were drinking bright blue alcopops and the ground was littered with the boys’ beer cans. A mobile phone was hooked up to some speakers and was blasting out a dance track. A couple of camping lights attracted a cluster of determined moths.

  Hana stood at the edge of the group, hands shoved in her pockets, shoulders up by her ears. Grace was next to her, chatting, swaying her hips to the music.

  ‘Let’s do dares!’ Sadie shouted. ‘I’ll go first. What do you dare me to do?’

  ‘Flash us your bra!’ Josh yelled.

  Sadie ignored him.

  ‘Spit into the ridge!’ Ben said.

  Sadie took a mouthful of drink, tottered to the edge, and leaned forward. I heard her spit, then she started to giggle. She wiped her mouth. ‘Hana, you’re next.’

  Hana shot nervous glances from face to face. ‘Um … OK.’

  Sadie threw her arm around Josh. ‘Gotta be something hard, to prove you really want to hang around with us.’

  She’s going to do something stupid. Dangerous. ‘No way,’ I breathed, breaking my cover to rush up to them.

  Sadie was the first to see me. She curled her lip. ‘Who invited you?’

  ‘Megan?’ Hana asked.

  Sadie rounded on her. ‘Did you invite her?’

  ‘Please don’t do this,’ I said to Hana. ‘You don’t have to prove anything to them.’

  Hana looked at Sadie, then back at me. She blushed.

  I couldn’t believe it! She was ashamed of me. Tears burned my eyes. Everyone was glaring at me.

  Hana broke the stony silence. ‘Go home, Megan.’

  ‘Fine,’ I snapped. ‘I’m done with you.’

  I stamped down the hill. I refused to blink and let the tears fall. She would not make me cry. When I was sure they couldn’t see me any more, I turned to look back at them.

  There was an old tree clinging to the edg
e of the ridge, its branches sweeping into the black nothingness above the drop. Someone had tied a rope swing to it, and Ben was helping Hana get on the seat.

  Ben let go and Hana squealed as the swing arced through the air. She stretched her legs out and flung her head towards the sky. ‘Wheeee! This is so much fun!’

  I watched her swoop through the night. She looked so free, so happy. I envied her. I wished I were as brave as her. The only swing I’d dare to go on was the …

  Everything inside me turned to ice. No. It couldn’t be the same swing. There must be two of them. But it looked the same. It looked the same! Had Luke and I done something to that swing? We’d talked about it, but what had we done? I couldn’t remember. Why couldn’t I remember?

  I took a few steps towards Hana. My foot scuffed something. I looked down. Oh no. Please, please, please, no. There was a strip of glow-in-the-dark material lying on the ground.

  ‘Hana!’ I cried, running forward.

  But she couldn’t hear me. She was shrieking and whooping as she glided through the air. The rope snapped. And suddenly my best friend wasn’t there any more. She didn’t scream. She didn’t even have time to scream. There was a devastating crack as her body hit the ground. It echoed through the forest, again and again and again, or was it just echoing through my mind?

  It was my fault. I did that. I frayed the rope. I must have frayed the rope. Luke gave me the penknife. What did I do? I killed her!

  There was screaming. A lot. Mine. Other people’s. It all merged into one. There was crying, people yelling at each other. A phone call to the police. And pain. So much pain I thought I’d never cry it out.

  Someone dragged me to my feet, their fingers digging into my arms. I didn’t even remember falling. They were shaking me, shouting. It was Sadie. I couldn’t understand anything she was saying, though. There was this voice in my head. It was so loud it cut through everything else.

  It’s your fault. You did this.

  I was sick on Sadie’s shoes. Her stupid, expensive shoes.

  We heard sirens, then everyone started throwing cans and bottles into the bushes.

  There were lights. Flashing, coloured ones. Flickering torch beams. Bright white ones that shone in my face, exposing my secret, revealing my guilt.