An Imperfect Circle

by R. J. Sable

  In the end, I let the smile out, along with acceptance that I’m about to explain myself and ruin point four on the list. At least five is safe.

  “I love Galadriel,” I admit.

  “Me too!” Becky squeals, grabbing my hand and leading me out of the bathroom.

  I’m not a big fan of handholding. In fact, I hate it. But Becky’s so sweet and I don’t want to offend her any more than I already have. She rambles on about ‘Lord of The Rings’ and I actually pay attention because she’s obviously read the books and I appreciate that. A movie could never do Tolkien’s creative genius justice.

  I don’t know where Becky’s going but so far she’s walking in the right direction for me, right towards the bus stop that will take me home so I just let her lead the way. Normally, I’d stay behind after school and do any coursework in the library but I haven’t got anything from my lessons so far.

  “Thank you so much for what you did back there,” Becky looks at me in earnest, her appreciation written all over her face.

  “It was nothing,” I shrug awkwardly.

  “Did you mean what you said?” She prompts bashfully. “About being a… a virgin.”

  I nod and keep my feet moving forwards. This conversation is far too intimate for me and I only just met the girl.

  “So you’re a virgin too?” She asks hopefully.

  I shake my head and clench my teeth. I can see it out the corner of my eye. That disappointed expression on her face when she starts to think I’m full of crap. She’s processing the information and now she thinks I’m a self-righteous cow who doesn’t practice what she preaches.

  “My mum’s boyfriend raped me when I was a kid,” I tell her bluntly. “If I had my virginity, I’d save it for somebody who meant something to me. It should never ever be taken away and it should never be given to somebody who won’t appreciate it for the honour that it is.”

  I load my words with meaning and hope it’s enough for Becky to understand how important it is that she understands me. Too many girls open their legs too easily, hoping it’ll land them their dream man. That’s not the way it works, ladies.

  “Oh my God! That’s awful. I’m so sorry, Ellie. I didn’t mean to-” Becky word vomits. She looks so upset that I actually feel a little guilty for not approaching it with a little more care. I swear she’s about to cry.

  “It’s fine, Becky,” I smile, saving her from the awkward rambling that I know is coming. “I was a kid. It wasn’t my fault. I know that. It was horrible but it’s over and I’ve moved on. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad or pity me. Don’t do that. I just don’t do secrets. Holding stuff inside can be poison. It can tarnish your insides.” And I’m tarnished enough already. I don’t need more internal graffiti because the stuff takes years to scrub off.

  I watch as Becky takes a deep breath and purses her lips as if trying to hold it in. I’m ready for another verbal assault but she catches me off guard by throwing her arms around my neck for what can only be described as a hug that’s as much an assault on the body as her colour clashing outfit is on the eyes.

  Hugs are another thing I’m not fond of. I just don’t see the point.

  “You’re amazing, you know that?” Becky whispers into my fake dreads. “You’re just yourself and I love it. You should be proud of who you are.”

  I crack my second smile of the day and thank her for the beautiful words by returning the hug. I’m not saying I hugged her tightly but she got both arms round her and that’s more than anyone else has gotten in years so she should be grateful.

  It’s so easy to throw around ugly words that hurt people but truly beautiful words, spoken without selfish motives, are something that should never be taken for granted. If someone gives you a compliment like that, you take it and hold it in your heart because one day you might need those words of kindness.

  “You’re not so bad yourself,” I smirk at her, pulling away because I’m a hug novice and those things are awkward.

  She blushes again and my smirk broadens because I like her and I don’t care that I wasn’t after friends.

  “Where are you headed?” She asks, reclaiming my hand and practically skipping forwards.

  “Bus stop,” I reply, trying to decide if I should have put a stop to the hand holding straight away because it doesn’t seem to be growing on me.

  “Oh?” She prompts.

  “Normanton,” I reply on a grimace. I know what people think about the area. So I live in a council house, who cares? Our house may be small but it’s full of warmth and I feel safe there.

  “You know you could have gotten the school bus, right?” Becky offers helpfully.

  I nod, smiling because she didn’t even react when I told her and I had her down as a rich kid. Rich people are usually the first ones to turn up their noses at people from Normanton. “I don’t do so well on school busses.” I don’t bother elaborating. My appearance should say it all. Kids on school busses are always far too fired up because the school day’s out and they tend to be far too eager to start something.

  Becky nods like she understands but I see a flicker of confusion on her face and I’m thankful that she’s never had to ride on one of the council funded school busses.

  “I volunteer at the library,” she explains, pointing in the general direction of the building.

  I nod and stifle a smirk. She’s like the advert for the perfect child. She’s the girl they’re singing about in the nursery rhyme: “sugar and spice and all things nice”. She’s practically a powerpuff girl. What was the redhead called? Blossom. I grin because it suits Becky perfectly.

  I’m about to let her in on her new nickname but our forward travel is halted by a scuffle blocking our path.

  Becky takes in a sharp breath as we absorb the sight in front of us. My breathing stops completely because four of those aggressive stances are far too familiar to me, even after all this time.

  Chapter 3

  “It’s the Carters!” Becky whispers excitedly but the explanation is unnecessary.

  As always, the oldest – Ian – seems to be leading the pack as the identical twins, Rick and Danny, hold a smaller boy pinned to the red brick wall of the building behind him.

  I purposely ignore him and focus on his brothers and their friend. He has his back turned to me anyway but I know it’s him. He was my best friend for five years; I’d recognise his back anywhere, even if it seems a lot bulkier now than it was five years ago.

  “Got something to say?” Ian, smirks at the poor kid they’re teaming up on.

  Seriously? What the hell are they doing? There are five of them against one kid. The boy isn’t lacking in the bulk department but it’s still not fair.

  The victim shakes his head, eyes darting round in panic. It’s obvious he’s terrified and I don’t blame him. I’ve watched those boys play fighting, roughhousing, and scrapping for real plenty of times. Clearly they’ve developed mean streaks along with a crap load of muscle since I knew them.

  “No?” Ian snorts, his smirk firmly in place.

  I’m pushing back all the gossip I heard from Stacy because there was a time when Ian was like a brother to me and now that I’ve seen him again, the mental image of his junk is not what I need associated with him.

  The task is made easier because, whether they know who I am or not, I’m not about to watch some kid get picked on by five meatheads. I jerk forwards, ready to tell them what despicable dung beetles they are, but Becky Blossom grabs my arm and shakes her head, motioning for me to watch.

  I frown in confusion but Becky doesn’t seem the type to watch somebody get bullied and she doesn’t look worried. I must be missing something and I don’t want to make a judgement before I know all the facts.

  “Think this is fair, tough guy?” The voice that haunts my dreams prompts.

  I close my eyes tight and work through one of my breathing exercises. I’m stronger than this. I’m not freaking out in front of anybody. Especially not him.

&
nbsp; My priorities have changed and I start towards the kerb, ready to cross to the other side of the road and avoid this. Unfortunately Becky Blossom has other ideas and she’s holding my hand with an iron grip. I’m thinking my nickname might have been more perfect than I could have imagined because the strength she’s holding me with has to be down to Chemical X. She’s watching them with big, wide eyes like she’s just watched Superman take down Harold Shipman.

  “Clearly he does,” Ian takes a step closer to the kid and winks at his younger brother.

  “It’s only five on one,” a twin snickers. I couldn’t tell you which one. They’re both wearing school uniform and have their hair gelled up. I swear to the Earth mother, every strand of their hair is identical. I could tell them apart when they were kids because I spent so much time with them but that won’t be happening any time soon so they’ll remain a singular entity for me.

  I disregard the twinge of sadness at that thought. I came to terms with losing them when I lost him.

  “That’s much better odds than you and your mates gave a year seven,” the other twin adds.

  “You gave him a black eye as well,” the guy stood next to him grins with an obviously aggressive edge. He looks more charged up than the others do.

  I take a closer look at him. Unlike the Carters, he has hair which is so dark it’s almost black. His eyes are a rich dark brown, but they’re filled with a burning hate that I can see even from a good few feet away. There’s something about him that’s familiar but I can’t place it.

  I don’t spend too long thinking about it because the guy moves closer to him and I don’t want to look at him so I focus my attention back on Ian and his victim. I watch as he pulls his fist back and aims it towards the kid’s stomach.

  The blow lands and the kid doubles over. I clench my teeth and start towards him again but then I catch sight of the kid cowering behind the rest. His nose has been bleeding and his eye is already starting to swell up. The poor kid is tiny compared to the one Ian just punched. Just a one-on-one the fight between the two of them would be unfair.

  I catch Ian wink at the twins who release the offender just as Ian takes a second swing at him. The blow glances and I get the feeling it was intentional as the bully makes a run for it. The Carters don’t bother chasing after him; they know they’ve made their point.

  The door of a small shop a few houses away opens and two smaller figures appear. Even if I didn’t recognise the taller one, I’d know they were Carters. They all have those dazzling blue eyes they inherited from their father. They’re both wearing the local Junior School uniform and Craig leads Jake by his shoulder with a small plastic bag in his other hand. I haven’t seen Jake since he was a toddler but he appears to be following in his brothers’ footsteps in the looks department.

  Ian takes the bag from Craig with a wink and hands it to the boy whose face is a bloody mess.

  “One to eat, one for your face,” he explains as the boy pulls out two ice-lollies.

  I hear Becky Blossom melt next to me as she gushes over the gesture. I’ve got to admit, I’m a bit impressed. But not with him.

  “Ice it properly when you get home and, if it happens again, tell a teacher,” Ian continues.

  The small boy mumbles his thanks and looks up at Ian. Hero worship. It’s written all over his face. Ian just offers a reassuring smile and turns back to his brothers and the angry guy.

  I’m already preparing my breath of relief as they move to walk away. I send a silent thanks down to the Earth mother for helping me keep number five safe but she’s clearly exploring her sense of humour today because Ian catches my eye as he turns.

  There’s a flicker there and I will it to be a flicker of anything but what it is. It’s recognition. I know he knows who I am. His step falters as our eyes meet and he breaks out the biggest smirk yet.

  He always was too observant. He’s the only person on the planet besides my mum who would see me through the thick layer of cosmetics, the contacts, and the wig.

  His stationary position draws the attention of the family and they all turn to face me. I inwardly grimace and glance at Becky who looks over the moon to be allowed front row seats and a free ticket to gaze upon them.

  “Fuck me!” Angry-eyes blurts. “Are you for real?”

  “Don’t get any ideas, Matt,” Ian smirks.

  Matt? What the hell? Angry-eyes is Matt. Matthew Smith. The little boy who always used to hang around with us with big scared eyes, tattered clothes, and too many cuts and bruises to be explained away by clumsiness. There was absolutely no way this was the same boy. This boy was full of aggression, not timid and scared. The Matt Smith I knew was plagued by nightmares. This Matt looks like he gives others nightmares.

  “Are you kidding me?” Matt chuckles, his angry eyes on me and my safety-pinned attire. “You a fucking dominatrix or what?”

  “Mouth, Matt,” Ian growls with laughter in his eyes. “That’s two.”

  “Whatever, E. Are you seeing this?” Matt responds, coming closer to where I’m holding my ground and suddenly clenching Becky’s hand a little tighter.

  “I think I’m seeing it more clearly than you are, mate,” Ian smirks, winking at me. There’s nothing seductive about his wink. If anything it seems amicable and that almost pisses me off. We’re not friends. Haven’t been for years.

  This is a nightmare for me. I don’t want attention from anybody, not from the Carters, and especially not from him. Speaking of him…

  “Dibs,” his deep voice booms.

  I’ve yet to meet his eye and I still refuse to.

  “Hi, Karl,” Becky squeaks from my side.

  I keep my gaze locked firmly on Ian, trying to figure out if he’s going to reveal who I am and royally fudge up my plans. For some reason, he just maintains his smirk and says nothing.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Karl raise his chin in greeting to Becky but I know his eyes are on me because I can feel them burning through my thick layer of white paint.

  “You can’t call dibs. I saw her first!” Matt groans.

  “Dibs,” Karl shrugs, his gaze never leaving me.

  Just my chuffing luck. The resident walking STD has claimed his property. What century does he think he’s living in? Since when has claiming a woman meant you own rights to her? I want to kick him in the balls and stomp away but that desire is outweighed by my need to avoid all contact with him

  “Are you new?” Karl demands, his eyes raking over me from dreadlocks to Doc Martens.

  I ignore him because number five is here to stay. Becky obviously interprets my silence as some sort of social anxiety because she speaks on my behalf.

  “She is. Her name’s Ellie. She just started here and she’s in my maths class and she’ll probably be in-”

  I shoot a sharp glance in her direction and she obviously gets the message because she shuts up. He doesn’t need to know anything about me.

  “Ellie,” Karl drawls, testing my name.

  The way the consonant glides over his tongue catches me off guard and I accidentally look at him for the first time. I immediately regret it. Before, he was just an ugly memory in my mind. Now he’s real. And what a reality he is. His jaw is solid and square with a hint of stubble that implies he actually shaves. He’s sixteen and he shaves. That shouldn’t be legal.

  His brown hair is the same shade it always has been but it’s shaved short just like his older brother’s. His chin has developed a slight cleft and his eyelashes fan out across his high cheekbones every time he blinks those bright blue eyes.

  In other words, he is unbelievably striking and it makes me want to hate him even more. He deserves to be ugly because of what happened all those years ago. All the Carter boys are lookers but Karl is by far the most attractive and isn’t that just typical? I definitely need to hate him.

  “Nice to meet you, Ellie,” Ian smirks, stressing my name like it’s some sort of private joke.

  I reply by gracing him with the same
glare I used to scare off the insipid leg spreaders earlier but Ian just seems amused.

  “Very nice,” Karl drawls. “You have a surname, Ellie?” He tastes my name again and I hate myself for liking the way he rolls the L.

  “Yeah,” I sneer, number five long forgotten. “It’s stay away from me or I’ll attach these safety pins to your retina.”

  My irritation at having blown every single thing on my list for the day helps me overpower the Chemical X running through Becky’s veins and I drag her past Karl, shouldering him with all my might.

  “Come on, Blossom,” I urge, ignoring the rabble of laughter I leave in my wake.

  “Darlin’, my retinas are safely pinned on your arse as you walk away!” I hear Karl shout and my shoulders tense with the need to make good on my promise but instead I repeat my controlled breathing exercise and continue tugging Becky along with me.

  Tomorrow’s list had better be a damned good one.

  Chapter 4

  After having to listen to Becky Blossom gush about how gorgeous and wonderful the Carters are, I don’t even care about having to sit next to a sweaty old man on the bus. I’m just glad to be away from them all. She spent a good five minutes telling me about them, even after I told her I knew who they were.

  Apparently, they’re practically the local celebrities. Hardly surprising, I guess. A whole family of drop-dead gorgeous men is bound to draw attention.

  It’s a blessing when I get home and my aunt Cecile tells me my mum is meditating. I need some peace and quiet. She doesn’t ask about my day because I don’t give her chance. I ditch my boots at the door and dash up to my bedroom. My sanctuary.

  As soon as the door shuts behind me, I lock each of the three locks and slump down onto the floor. Locks on the inside of my door have been a demand since my first therapy session. The doctor thought it might help me feel safe. At the time, I needed to feel safe.