‘Christ, he’s baked to high fucking heaven!’ Abby squealed. The girls opposite us were also laughing at Bryce’s pathetically limp figure splayed out across our feet. Their unfamiliarity caused me to take offence at their laughter, enough to make me to slide my heavy body off the couch to try and help Bryce. I ended up practically kneeling on top of him as I landed on the floor and I clambered over him to kneel next to his head. Bryce’s slack-jawed gob was hanging open like a loose hinge and he’d begun to dribble spit down one side. It was strange to see Bryce so completely out of it. He was always so quiet and safe, maybe that’s why I suddenly burst into genuine laughter. I’d been wrong about him, my little glass world would have to change. Feeling the tiny sharp grit of sand on my legs I noticed the floor wasn’t the most sanitary of places for Bryce to be liquefying. Pulling his limp arm from underneath his squishy body I started to pull Bryce to the next couch so he could melt comfortably into that. Realising my intention, Doug jumped up from his seat and crouched down to prop Bryce up against his chest so his elbows were under Bryce armpits. With one quick movement Doug lifted Bryce onto the sunken cushions while I propped his legs up after him. We rolled him onto his side so he wouldn’t choke on vomit if he threw up and as Doug stood up I realised he wasn’t enjoying himself.
‘You feeling ready to go?’ he asked and I nodded, I was more than ready to leave. Bryce was no doubt the first of many dominos and as much as I wanted to prove my good virtue I wasn’t in the mood for dealing with my limp, spewing university cohorts. Bryce’s friendship made him the exception.
‘Yeah, just let me find Lev and thank him,’ I said and Doug nodded as Abby got up to follow. Abby had driven herself to the party and was happy to leave with us, her only friends at the party. Glen was working late and wouldn’t be showing up. As confident as Abby appeared she wasn’t the type to make friends easily, a quality that most of my friends appeared to share. Leaving the stoner corner, we pushed ourselves back into the tangle of people and I was sandwiched between Doug and Abby as he led our hunt for Lev. A loud scream made us, along with the rest of the crowd, turn to the right and standing on my toes I managed to see Kira playfully punching Lev in a way that was meant to draw attention to the fact she was a pathetically feminine girl who desperately needed a man to step in and defend her honour.
‘What’s she doing here?’ Abby hissed into my ear as she leaned heavily on my shoulder, pulling me down slightly to get a better look. Why Abby thought I would know the answer to that question confused me; I had no idea why Kira was here. Lev and Bryce didn’t like Kira; like Glen, they weren’t the type of people to put on appearances but I’d been proven wrong about Bryce’s character once already today. Even considering he was drunk and high, Lev still managed to look irritated by Kira’s presence and seeing the three of us he walked purposely forward, to dump her on us it would seem.
‘Are you guys going?’ he asked.
‘Yeah, I’ve got work in the morning. Sorry, mate,’ Doug replied and Lev nodded. He gave us all hugs goodbye and saving the last one for me, leant his mouth down next to my ear.
‘Did you invite Kira?’ he whispered and I shook my head.
‘No,’ I whispered back, and Lev had to press the side of his head to my mouth to hear me.
‘I mean, it’s okay if you did, I just want to know why she’s here because I didn’t invite her and Bryce didn’t either.’ Lev’s tone indicated he believed me, but I’d underestimated how pissed he was about this. Kira was completely harmless, the only foreseeable problem was that she was drunk and quite possibly without a ride home. Lev and I both looked to where she was standing, or rather leaning against the wall on our right. She looked a mess; her dress was hiked up with her stockings and she’d smeared the makeup around her eyes so her eyes appeared to peer out of two black circles. I noticed that she’d also lost her shoes and her hair fell in matted ribbons down her face; I wondered how anyone would consider her attractive. I felt the need to reassure Lev that I hadn’t invited her again but he brushed it off with a smile.
‘Yeah, I know. It was probably one of the girls… great, now I’ve got this to clean up.’ He rolled his eyes. Kira had now noticed us and she screamed.
‘Doug! Oh my God! I’ve missed you!’ Doug only just managed to change his look of horror to one of surprise before Kira was close enough to notice. She locked her arms around his neck while Doug stood there with his arms hanging at his sides before Lev intervened and making a joke of it, pulled her arms back.
‘What are you doing here?’ Kira slurred at Doug, and she wobbled. If Lev hadn’t been holding onto her she would have toppled over.
‘Lev invited us,’ Abby started. ‘But we’ve got to go now, got an early start tomorrow,’ Abby ended with a lie, and Kira’s face crumpled.
‘Oh no! No you can’t go! I haven’t seen you! We need to…’ she dribbled off. Taking advantage of her stupor, Lev motioned at us to go and, catching me by the hem of my dress, Abby dragged me behind her as we followed Doug down the dank corridor and out the front door. Emerging from the cigarette-smoke filled interior of Lev’s house we all sucked in a deep breath of cold air, heavy with the minute drops of atmospheric water. Autumn had well and truly arrived, dragging with it cold nights that condensed the hot humidity of the day.
‘Christ, I’m so glad I’m not Lev right now.’ Abby breathed deeply again, almost like a sigh of relief. Doug nodded in agreement with her while I stood there unresponsive. Abby’s comment meant she was perceptive enough to realise we all shared the same dim view of Kira, yet I still couldn’t escape a feeling of misplaced loyalty to the girl. Whether it was born of pity or perhaps understanding I didn’t want to say anything bad about her, even if that would only make me appear normal amongst my friends.
‘Are you all right getting to your car?’ I asked Abby, changing the subject.
‘Oh yeah, I’m just there,’ Abby declared, brushing off my concern and motioning her hand in the direction of her old Mercedes parked on the verge.
‘Cool, well I guess we’ll see you at uni,’ Doug stated.
‘Yep, you guys have a nice night,’ Abby replied, giving us both an awkward hug goodbye before walking to her car and we similarly turned our backs to her. It was almost unpleasantly cool as we walked past houses shrouded in gossamer darkness to Doug’s car. The cold air seemed to claw its way down my throat as I breathed it in and I wondered if I was coming down with the flu. Walking away from the pulsing hub of Lev’s house, Doug and I were content to walk in silence, neither felt the need to start conversation. It was quite enough just to walk side by side. Driving back home the streets appeared paved in gold, the moisture condensed on the road reflected the warm glow emitted by the streetlights and I leant my head against the chilled window. Staring up at the sky I watched the yellow streetlight orbs race past me in regular beats and I felt quite like a child again. It was like when we had returned from family holidays down south, when Peter and I would compete to see who stay could awake the longest as we drove home at night. I’d stare skywards then, trying to spot the stars in the light-stained sky seeking anything to distract me from the gentle speeding lullaby of the car. I didn’t realise we’d arrived on my street until I felt Doug take the awkward bend around the corner and pulling my head up I felt suddenly eager to be in my bed. I’d managed to supress the draw of the Blackhole all night, but its sudden and unexpected proximity made me almost want to sigh in relief; I’d soon be able to lose myself in it. Doug pulled into my driveway and smiled as he noticed how tired I knew I must look.
‘You all right?’ he asked softly and I nodded. Tiredness suddenly overwhelmed me, muting my speech as well as thought so I pretended to have trouble with my seatbelt to allow my brain time to catch up.
‘Yeah,’ I mumbled and he laughed.
‘Well sleep in tomorrow,’ he suggested and I smiled. Oh I would. He didn’t realise that all I ever seemed to do was
sleep but that didn’t make the thought of it any less welcome.
‘Will you be alright getting to your door?’ he asked and I looked at him.
‘What? Walk ten meters? Think I’ll be fine.’ I allowed my tone to drip with sarcasm and Doug grinned. ‘Will you be okay getting home?’ I asked and Doug nodded.
‘Yeah, I’ll be fine. I’m knackered though; just glad I’m not going to feel like Bryce in the morning.’
The laugh I gave him was a complete lie. I would give anything to feel like Bryce would in the morning because I can assure you, he’d feel better than I would. Bryce wouldn’t have to fight against the Blackhole just to find the energy to pull himself out of bed. If I had to deal with a hangover every day just to buy myself some happiness I would.
I would do anything just to be rid of the Blackhole in my bed.
8
There’s a universal sigh of relief in late May. It’s the rare window between assignment deadlines and exams, combined with the sudden and welcome drop in temperature that makes students all inexplicably optimistic; their happiness was palpable and I hated them for it. It had been weeks since we’d submitted our assignments and the grades were due to be released today; we had no idea of knowing when, it was never announced so I’d become almost compulsive, checking my inbox every five minutes. It was now just past midday and I was still ignorant; the tight ball of panic that had settled in my chest was beginning to suffocate and all I wanted to know was how badly I had failed. Lately I had been struggling to go to uni and keep up with my already paltry class schedule. I had provided my friends and tutors with perfectly legitimate reasons for my increasingly frequent absences; a doctor’s appointment here, a haircut there, when combined with the days I actually did show up, gave them no reason to believe I was anything but perfectly fine. In reality I was barely managing to keep my little glass world together; the cracks that had appeared manifested themselves in my detachment from university. The only way to keep my glass world from shattering completely was to spend as much time sleeping as possible, so that’s what I did. Yet that came at a price; the Blackhole was becoming harder to drag myself out of. A few days ago I had caught myself asking if it was really worth it. That internal question had made me snap out of bed so quickly the sudden break from the Blackhole had made me feel physically sick and I’d spent five minutes kneeling on the floor, fighting the thick fog of exhaustion and nausea as Miranda screamed at me to get up. I had forbidden myself of thinking about that question again, a decision which Miranda had enthusiastically supported, yet the more time I spent in my bed the harder the question was to ignore. I needed to keep myself busy yet had neither the want nor will to actually do so; sooner or later I’d be forced to confront the question with an answer. I just hoped I’d choose the right one.
How I managed to get to uni today was a marvel, though one explained by necessity; I had a meeting with my lecturer for human development, Dr Pavel Brusilov. I had struck up conversation with him at the end of our tutorial last week, we had been analysing the brain and the impact of music at different stages of development. I had found the topic truly fascinating and uncharacteristically contributed a lot to the discussion. I had good context, I’d played the violin since the age of five but as much as the topic interested me, talking about the violin made me sad: it had become just another thing the Blackhole had stolen. Brusilov took a liking to me and mentioned something about a research programme; that’s how I found myself standing in the hall of the musty psychology building, leaning against the noticeboard opposite Brusilov’s office and waiting for him to finish with the student before me. A few minutes passed before a tall, beefy guy with ginger hair slipped meekly out the door and I heard Brusilov boom at me, telling me to come in. Brusilov was a portly balding gentleman around sixty. He had the unfortunate mannerism of always squinting at his students through wire-rimmed glasses, which made him look like a ferret. He was short and had a deep, booming voice which was quite mismatched to his small stature. I liked him immediately. Brusilov appeared to care very little about his students and never went beyond his standard obligations as an educator, yet I found his approach refreshing; he wasn’t there to hold your hand. He gave you the knowledge to understand the content, whether you used that knowledge for its intended purpose was of no interest to him. His brusque teaching approach made any extra effort he went to for his students something not to be overlooked and I couldn’t help but feel slightly important. He cast me a happy smile as I walked into his office. It was a small, dingy room that was claustrophobic with its disorganised mountains of tightly packed books and journals. I had to follow a beaten track in the carpet to find my way to the seat in front of his desk.
‘Right, so what I wanted to talk to you about is the research of this lady Margaret Chaise.’ Brusilov’s lack of pleasantries was not surprising and I appreciated it; I was far too tired to feign interest in incidental chit-chat. ‘She’s going to be conducting a study on sound and sensitivity over the next summer break and we’re going to need a few students to assist with it, for data collection and such. As you were so interested in the topic last week I think you would be a good candidate and of course you’ll be credited with research hours for your work. Chaise is also one of the academic supervisors for dissertations so if you like this area then there is always that option to pursue it further.’ Brusilov’s abrupt offer had left me speechless. His consideration was decidedly flattering yet I had no idea why I warranted such regard. Growing impatient Brusilov leaned his chubby little arms on his desk and leant forward.
‘What do you think?’ he asked and I opened my mouth for words to fall out yet all that did was more silence and he smiled.
‘I take it I should give Chaise your name then?’
I found my voice: ‘Yes.’ It was a croak and I had to repeat myself. ‘Yes. I would really appreciate that, Doctor Brusilov.’
He nodded his head. ‘Good, and I would suggest you introduce yourself to Dr Chaise before the summer. Are you thinking of taking the self and society unit next semester?’
I nodded my head to answer.
‘Well she runs that unit so you’ll meet her through that, but if you are eager then it certainly wouldn’t hurt to just make yourself known. My best advice would be to just pop by her office during consultation hours and tell her I’ve sent you.’
‘Thank you, I’ll do that.’ The first sincere smile in a week cracked across my lips. I was genuinely excited and the closest someone in my position could feel to happiness. It wasn’t that Brusilov cared, or that he’d even thought about me, I just didn’t feel so hopeless anymore.
‘Okay, well, if there isn’t anything else…’ Brusilov gave me my dismissal. I quickly stood up, thanking him again as I retraced my steps back through his office, shutting the door behind me.
I stood for a moment in the musty hallway. The tightness that had been suffocating me all morning had almost vanished and I sucked in a deep breath before my smile returned for a fleeting reprise. Maybe I wasn’t as meaningless as I thought. I heard my phone vibrate against the empty drink bottle in my book bag and dug around for it as I made my way out of the psychology building. I eventually pulled it out as I walked out of the entrance and checked the sender; five tiny letters stopped me in my tracks. It was Josie. My little bubble of calm ruptured quite spectacularly and thick plumes of panic pushed themselves up through my chest, tightening like a vice on my throat. The frazzled state of my mind meant I had to read Josie’s message three times to make sense of it properly.
“Hey. I’m just in Winthrop, are you at uni? Free for lunch?” Shit. How did I respond to that? I hadn’t spoken to Josie since my birthday last year; that was ten months ago. Why had she messaged me now all of a sudden? Mel. It was because I’d seen Mel and she’d told Josie. I felt a simmering anger towards Mel, fuck her. Fuck her and Josie both, why weren’t my friends just content to leave me alone.
***
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br /> If I said the reason I accepted Josie’s invitation was because I genuinely wanted to see her, would you believe me? I’m flattered if you think I’m that nice but please, you know me better than that. The real reason I accepted Josie’s invitation for lunch was pure selfishness; in truth I’d begun to lose Miranda and I needed her to come back. I don’t know how or when but recently Miranda had started to become fuzzy. She’d begun to blur with some parts of the Blackhole; parts of her just no longer existed. The anchor that she was to the light was beginning to come loose. My logic was that if Miranda was the person I thought I used to be, the person I had been with Laura, Mel and Josie, who better to remind me of her than them? Josie was simply convenient. Hopefully her presence and mindless conversation would be able to break through the fog that was beginning to smother me.
‘Hi stranger.’ I looked up and Josie smiled. She was standing next to the table I’d picked for us in Murdoch’s crowded food hall. I hadn’t seen Josie in so long I expected her to look different; it would make me feel far less self-conscious about my own radical change in appearance. Aside from my chubbiness, my hair was riddled with split ends and my eyes now seemed permanently stained with purple bruises from my exhausting sleeping schedule. Yet Josie looked exactly the same. She had thin, dark brown hair which she always wore in a low-ponytail and when combined with her tiny frame and small brown eyes, she resembled a shrew. Josie wore small glasses and her entire presence was sensitive, meek and unassuming; she really was a lovely girl. Miranda adored Josie, the Blackhole however did not; intuition made this quiet and softly-spoken girl the greatest threat to its invisible existence aside from Alison. Aside from my psychologist, Josie was perhaps the only person who could see the Blackhole were she to look hard enough; I couldn’t let that happen. My best hope was to reinforce the walls of my little glass world and ensure it looked as convincing as possible.
My Bed is a Blackhole Page 8
