‘I’m not trying to … oh, but you know that. I’m not in the mood for teasing.’
‘Then what? Talk to me.’
Now everything is a billion times more complicated. It’s not that kissing Rhett is social suicide, it’s that I don’t care. And that terrifies me even more than all the secrets.
He looks at me and waits. It’s pressure of a kind I wouldn’t have expected from him. Rhett Barker is Mr Freaking Patient.
‘She fell.’ I blurt it out. ‘She climbed up lighter than air and balanced for a few seconds. She was grinning like a fiend, her whole body lit up with excitement. I clapped my hands together and she fell. The thud—’ I drag in a breath and try not to relive the sound that’s haunted me, the one only my guitar drowns out. ‘It was sickening. I stood there at the top of the stairs and she was crumpled at the bottom. Her neck was twisted at this terrible angle on our clean white tiles. I remember thinking Mum would be happy because the blood wouldn’t stain. How stupid is that?’
Rhett doesn’t say anything. There are no words that will make the accident not have happened. I don’t know when I moved closer but suddenly I’m gripping both his hands like I’m drowning and only he can keep me afloat. My nails are biting into his wrists but he doesn’t try to pull away.
It gives me the strength to continue. ‘I screamed and screamed until Dad came running, but she didn’t move once.’ My breath comes in pants and I’m back hiding in the corner and peering through the rails. ‘I watched the paramedics work to save her life and made a promise. To Roxy and to myself. That I would one day make a difference.’
‘You’ll be a doctor.’ His soft words bring me back to the present.
I nod. The weight of the promise I made back then still pushes me onwards, even though I’m not sure it’s where I want to go. ‘That’s the plan.’
‘But?’
I can’t look at him. Instead I pretend fascination with his long fingers and the calluses on his skin. How does this person I hardly know hear the doubts when nobody else does? ‘It’s my dream, but lately the pressure … It feels like I don’t have a choice.’
‘There’s always a choice. You’re not responsible. Just like Scarlett isn’t responsible for what happened to Hayden. You can’t take the blame for someone else’s mistake.’
There’s no absolution in his pronouncement. Dad tried to tell me that more than once, but Roxy’s death still haunts me. I have to make it to be a doctor. And I will. With or without the scholarship.
Besides, he’s an expert in taking on responsibility. ‘You can talk.’
‘What?’
‘You have the brains to be a vet yourself, yet you’re throwing that away to look after your family. You don’t have to sacrifice your future to look after your mother and Scarlett.’
‘That’s not what I’m doing.’
I shake my head, drop his hands and keep walking. We’re nearly home—the place where doing the right thing and telling the truth becomes so difficult.
We’re at the corner when I stop. It’s the place where I saw Rhett standing with his sister this morning. I can’t believe less than twenty-four hours has passed since then. Everything has changed. ‘I think I’ll be fine from here.’
He glances up at my house, where a light shines around the edges of a blind. ‘Someone’s waiting up for you.’
‘No, it’s Sean’s room.’
‘Seems he survived to make it home just fine without you.’
That’s a strange way to put it. ‘What do you mean?’
He shrugs, leans close and brushes the sweetest of kisses across my lips. ‘I’ll leave you to sleep.’
‘On my decision you mean?’
‘I’m not going to force you. You know the right thing to do.’
My belly knots. ‘The right thing for who?’
His eyes are sad. ‘It’s up to you.’
I take three steps and then turn back. I pretty much throw myself against that hard chest and kiss him with everything I have.
His arms wrap around me and he slips his tongue into my mouth as he lifts my weight against him. I let my body take over and my hands explore at will. Kissing Rhett lets me forget.
But only for a minute.
He sets me back on my feet and doesn’t say another word. Then he’s gone.
* * *
A few hours later, I wake to the feel of sunlight on my face. I didn’t have the energy to shut the blinds, let alone undress, when I made it up the stairs, and now the sun is shining between the tree branches and into my blinking eyes.
I slept better than I would have guessed. Maybe it was Rhett’s incredible kisses. Or maybe it’s the fact that it was past two by the time I got home and I was exhausted. I crept in, expecting a lecture from Mum, but instead Dad poked his head out of their room and smiled, mouthing that she was asleep.
No wonder he looked happy. It’s always good when Mum can sleep. It’s the nights she stays up cleaning or baking when we all worry.
There’s no sign of Sean as I head for our shared bathroom. Last night, his light was off before I even made it inside. I’d like to think it was a coincidence, but he’s probably avoiding me.
The water soothes the scratches and bruises on my legs. Once dry, I drag on jeans and a light, long-sleeved shirt in the hope of keeping questions about the marks to a minimum.
Back in my room, I put on my glasses, which I prefer to contacts most of the time, and catch a glimpse of my reflection in the full-length mirror. There’s a hint of a silly smile on my lips. And it’s all because of Rhett.
It’s crazy. I should be worrying about the fallout after I speak to Mr Anderson tomorrow. I’ve finally made a decision.
I’m going to tell the truth.
I have to.
For Rhett, for Roxy, and because I know it will mess with my head if I try to keep it secret. It’s the right thing to do. Sometime last night, between racing against the mob and stealing kisses, I made the decision without even realising it.
And the first people I need to face are downstairs at the breakfast table, waiting for me.
My steps are light on the stairs. I don’t linger at the top and think for the billionth time what might have been. I want to get this conversation over with.
But when I stride into the kitchen, it’s empty. There’s no Mum at the stove and no Dad reading his paper. Instead, there’s a package of frozen waffles defrosting on the counter. The familiar whine of the garage door opening has me hurrying to the front door. Dad is reversing out into the drive, but he brakes when he sees me. By the time I reach the car, he’s wound down the window.
‘Some of the ladies have organised a special breakfast for the Chapmans,’ he explains before I can ask where they are going. ‘Your mum thought it would be nice to support them.’
I notice Dad’s wearing a shirt and Mum is in a perfectly pressed skirt and cream blouse. Mum’s smile is tight. ‘We don’t want to be late.’
I take a few steps back and look to Dad. ‘Before you go, I need to talk to you.’
He glances at Mum and shakes his head. It’s a sharp, tiny movement, but it tells me Mum is more stressed than she seems. I try to tell him with my eyes how important it is, but he’s already checking his rear-vision mirror. ‘We don’t want to be late,’ he echoes.
I watch them reverse out and drive down the hill. As the sunlight glints on the tail-lights and the car turns the corner I have to stop myself from chasing them.
Inside, I put the waffles in the microwave and rehearse what I’m going to say to Sean when he emerges. The more I try to figure out the right words to explain why I’m stuffing up his life, the more the knot in my belly tightens. It’s his first offence, and it was an accident. Surely he won’t get more than a warning. It’s not like they’ll send him away.
Is it?
I imagine Mum passing Mrs Chapman in the street once the news gets out and my belly heaves. Behind me, the microwave dings, but I don’t move from my place against
the bench. Maybe I don’t need to tell anyone. I could write to Mr Anderson anonymously and trust that he’ll do the right thing with the information.
And maybe fairies will swoop past the window.
I glance over towards the glass but there’s only Lion. His tail wags when he sees me. I haven’t given him much attention this weekend. Another thing to feel guilty about.
The sound of the doorbell jolts me from my thoughts.
The figure at my front door is not the boy I was hoping to see. Jonny’s tall outline has me hesitating in the hallway. Maybe I can pretend I’m not home.
A fist hammers against the glass. ‘I know you’re in there, Callie. Open up.’
There goes that plan. Still, I don’t hurry to obey his order. Jonny never made a habit of dropping around unannounced when we were together. Now we’re split up and after my vain attempt to stop him last night, I know this won’t be fun.
I turn the handle with a slippery hand. He was pretty drunk. How much will he remember?
‘Hi Jonny,’ I speak through a crack in the door.
‘You little bitch.’ He moves to push on the door but my foot wedged on the other side stops him. For a second I think he’s going to force the issue but he takes a step back and pales, like the movement doesn’t agree with him. He’s still wearing the same clothes as last night and he reeks of smoke and sea. He’s unshaven. His bloodshot eyes are angry slits in a scowling face. ‘You warned him.’
He doesn’t need to say who. I keep silent because I can’t deny it. While I’ve never been frightened for my safety with Rhett, I’m suddenly hyper aware that I’m home by myself and Jonny is huge. Which is crazy. I mean, he was my boyfriend until a few hours ago.
Crazy or not, I scan the street behind him.
Our little block seems too quiet. The neighbours’ houses show only empty windows. There’s no-one mowing their front lawn or weeding a rose patch. Where is everyone?
Duh. Probably the same place as my parents. At the special breakfast to suck up to the Chapmans.
My silence seems to confuse Jonny. He runs a hand through his hair, still greasy and dusted with sand from the beach, and looks at the ground. ‘You need to stay out of this, Callie.’
‘I can’t.’
His head jerks up. ‘Rhett’s going to get what’s coming to him. It doesn’t matter what you do. He can’t hide from the authorities, even if he sneaks away in the night from his shit-tip of a house. He’ll be sorry he ran off when he has the guts to show his face there again.’
‘What did you do?’
‘Why do you care?’
The unfairness of it all overcomes my sensible plan to keep my mouth shut. ‘Unlike someone who vandalises an empty house, Rhett’s no coward.’
Jonny treats my words like some kind of admission. His mouth twists. ‘I knew it. You’re sleeping with him. You slut.’ He shakes his head. ‘Last night I thought your wild claims were some kind of misguided sense of justice, but you’re actually slumming it with a Barker.’
I don’t bother to correct his assumptions. I don’t know myself what my relationship with Rhett is, and even if I did, Jonny’s the last person I’d be explaining it to. I smile sweetly instead. ‘When you started screwing around at uni, you lost all right to have an opinion on my private life.’
His arms cross. ‘I bet everyone in school, and this town for that matter, will have an opinion on that piece of crap. Told Mummy and Daddy yet?’
‘It’s none of your business.’
‘Well, Hayden is my business, so you’d better keep what you think you know to yourself.’
I process his choice of words. What I think I know … No, he can’t mean that. ‘You mean you knew Rhett didn’t hit Hayden, and you still went to his house to teach him a lesson?’
‘I know that if he hadn’t stuck his nose in where it didn’t concern him, my best mate wouldn’t be in the hospital right now.’
‘But …’ My mouth opens and closes. Somehow, despite knowing the truth, they’re still finding a way to blame Rhett. ‘Why do you want to keep the truth hidden? Whoever gets blamed is nothing to you.’
‘There’s a social order and guys like Rhett need to stay where they belong. There’s a player’s code, we stick by each other.’
‘This isn’t some rite of passage. Hayden Chapman assaulted a girl and one of his mates hit him. When the truth comes out you’ll look pretty stupid.’
‘I stick by my friends. Something you seem to have forgotten.’
‘What are you so afraid of? That someone will forget you were captain of the team?’
‘I rule this school.’
‘Don’t you mean ruled? You’re gone, and pretty much forgotten.’
Anger warps his face. ‘Shut it, Callie.’
I try to see past the hungover bully on my front porch to the boy who wrote me a poem the night we first held hands. The Jonny I knew then was different. He can’t have disappeared in a few months of uni.
He lowers his sunglasses to cover his eyes, like he knows what I’m trying to do.
‘Who are you?’ The question escapes my lips before I can drag it back.
He shrugs. ‘I could ask you the same thing.’
Maybe I have changed a little. I feel like a different person when I’m with Rhett. A person who’s strong and independent and not losing herself trying to make up for something that happened a million years ago—something that wasn’t my fault. ‘I’m not going to pretend it’s okay to blame someone for something they didn’t do.’
Jonny’s hand comes out to shove on the door and this time my foot isn’t heavy enough to stop it opening. The bang as it hits the wall echoes down the empty street.
My mouth dries. In one step he’s in front of me. His hands grip my shoulders. Tight. ‘Consider this your new friend’s warning.’
Inside, I’m shaking, but I lift my chin. ‘What will you do to him?’
‘You don’t want to find out.’
With one final, painful squeeze, he’s gone. I shut the door and have to lean on the handle to support my jelly-like knees. The scene replays itself over and over in my mind. It’s like some dumb movie with Jonny playing a bad excuse for a tough guy.
Did he really just come here to threaten Rhett?
After a few calming breaths, I rub at my shoulders and slide to the floor.
Somewhere in my head are the memories of the times I once prayed for Jonny to linger at the end of a date. To stay a minute longer so I could revel in being one half of one of the school’s most popular couples. It was what I thought I should want.
Now I’m glad when I hear his car start and the squeal as it accelerates down the street. When the sound fades into the distance, I rediscover the ability to move my legs, and drag myself up off the floor.
I want to go to Rhett but I’m afraid Jonny is waiting out there for me to lead him to Javier’s. Instead I make my way slowly up the stairs to my bedroom. My sanctuary. Playing my guitar lets me escape the thoughts for a while. When I first started playing I tried to learn to read proper music, but these days I mostly try to pick out the notes for whatever song catches my attention.
It’s an exercise that doesn’t leave much space in my head for anything else, although the memory of Rhett’s kisses is never far from my mind.
It’s easier to think about the taste of him than the reason my shoulders ache. I put down the guitar and lie dreamily on my bed. If only Rhett had a mobile, I could call him now and hear his voice.
Jonny’s threat creeps into my happy thoughts. What did he mean by me not wanting to find out what would happen?
My hand returns to the neck of my guitar. The cheap wood—I had to save up myself—has been worn smooth over the years and the oils from my touch have given it lustre. My fingers wander over the strings. I exhale some of the fear.
In my head I play through what might happen tomorrow. Walk into Mr Anderson’s office. Tell the truth. Risk my scholarship if it comes out I was drunk. Hell, just be
ing related to Sean might be enough. But other kids juggle uni and jobs.
I need to be able to live with myself.
Mum and Dad will forgive me. Bree will eventually get over it. And Sean … He might not get kicked off the team.
My hand clenches until the guitar strings cut into my flesh. I can’t lie to myself. Mum and Dad will probably hate me. Bree already does. Sean will be screwed because of what I’m going to do. I’ll be alone, hated. Tears sting my eyes.
This is so, so hard. If only there was another way, but Rhett’s future will be much worse if I don’t come clean. I wipe at my eyes and try to keep the wave of despair from drowning me.
It’s the right thing to do.
It might be, but the sick feeling in my stomach doesn’t disappear at the thought, and the sound of the front door closing merely magnifies it.
I tense. Sean? Or Mum and Dad?
There’s no other sound from downstairs. Maybe I imagined the noise.
A second later my bedroom door bursts open. I scramble upright. ‘Mum?’
She’s still wearing the fancy cream outfit from earlier, but it’s crumpled and she looks tired. Her wide-eyed gaze falls to the bed beside me, where my guitar rests. She frowns. ‘I told you not to waste your time with that.’
I pick up the offending instrument. ‘I wasn’t. I was just—’
‘Just what? Messing around while rumours are flying all over town about you and that Barker boy?’
I glance behind her, hoping to see Dad. He always knows how to talk Mum down when she gets in one of her moods. But there’s no sign of him.
‘What rumours?’
She rubs at the back of her neck, weary in a way that terrifies me. ‘Someone saw you two walking the streets in the early hours of the morning. Apparently right outside this very house.’
Guilt stabs through me—I’ve added to her burden. But I won’t deny it. ‘If you’re talking about Rhett, yes, my friend walked me home last night.’
She takes the guitar from my hands, twisting it around and around. ‘Friends like him will get you in trouble.’ Her fingers are tight on the wood and her knuckles are white.
What I Saw Page 15
