Heavy (Heavy Hearts Book 1)

by Sarah Jane Duncan

  I search my body for my phone and find it in the back pocket of my black skinny jeans. Keying in my passcode, I go straight for the photo app. Taking photos and videos of our shenanigans is a given, and looking back through them can usually tell a detailed story. Unfortunately, there are only a few pictures from the start of the night. I remember taking those photos not long after we arrived at Tasha’s. Where the hell are the rest of them?

  Shaking my head in frustration, I pull the blankets back to search for Abbey's phone. She is still in her blue jeans and white top, which is barely covering her busty chest. Trying not to wake her, I find her phone underneath her sleeping body and slowly pull it free before keying in her passcode.

  Yes! There are so many photos of last night on Abbey’s phone. Every opportunity is a photo opportunity; that’s her life motto, I’m sure. Scrolling through the pictures, I’m familiar with the ones taken earlier in the night, but as I keep scrolling, I’m left looking at pictures I have no memory of. A frown creases my brow when I realise that there are quite a few photos with everyone in them, except for me.

  Why aren’t I in the pictures?

  Knowing I won’t be able to fill in the gaps until Abbey wakes up, I place her phone next to her and carefully step over Maddie and Kyle’s legs to sneak out of the room. At the door, I turn back to see who’s sleeping on the top bunk. Tight dark curls cover the sleeping face which can only be Daniel, Abbey’s new boyfriend. No one has curls like he does. Abbey and Daniel have the kind of cute new love that is consuming, and they can’t seem to keep their hands off each other. Which raises the question, why is Abbey sharing a bed with me and not him?

  The murmur of voices float down the hall, so I duck into the small, cluttered bathroom to freshen up before I face the world. To say I look like shit is an understatement. I regret looking in the mirror, forced to see my bloodshot eyes smudged with black mascara. My skin appears sickly pale instead of my natural sun-kissed tone. And to top it off, I have an extreme case of bed hair.

  “Jesus!” How in the hell did I let myself get to whatever is looking back at me in the mirror? Shame fills me. Why did I let myself lose so much control? Guilt also gnaws at me, which is a feeling that’s becoming all too familiar lately. I wish it would just go the fuck away. While my jeans appear to have handled the night, my dusty pink cropped jumper looks a little worse for wear. It’s dirty and stained down the right side. Seriously, what the fuck Lexi!

  Sighing, I rummage through the bathroom cabinet and find some makeup wipes. In a matter of minutes, I remove the charcoal smears of makeup framing my blue eyes and the invisible grime that feels like it’s coating my face. I steal some toothpaste, squirting it on my finger and rubbing it along my teeth before rinsing my mouth. My teeth definitely aren’t clean, but the fresh mint flavour helps to mask the weird smoky taste I’ve woken up with.

  Reaching to turn off the tap, I look down to notice several cuts on my hand and a smear of blood on my sleeve. How in the hell did I get these? Once again, my head pounds as I try to remember, but this time a faint memory of seeing blood trickle down my hand pops into my mind. I run a finger over the grazes feeling the rough and tender marks hoping to spark more memories. It doesn’t. Confusion is making me feel emotional, and hot tears threaten to spill. I hate that I can’t remember how I got the scratches or what I did last night. The unknown sends a ripple of fear through me and reminds me of how little control I have of my life. Surely, Abbey will be able to tell me what happened to my hand, and why I’m in such a mess this morning.

  I try to tackle my matted hair, and use a pink hairbrush I find in the vanity to brush out the long blonde waves. Eventually, I’m able to tame it a little, and my hair finally resembles a smoother texture. I feel dirty and need a shower, but that will have to wait until I get home. Unfortunately, going home is not something I’m looking forward to, but I have no choice. I can’t stay away too long, or it will just cause me more problems.

  Deciding there’s nothing more I can do to make myself look any better, I drag myself out of the bathroom in search of information. I find my friends sitting around a round table in the kitchen, which I’m now certain belongs to Tasha since we have had many drinking sessions around it in this cringy apricot kitchen that was born in the ’90s. My friends look sleepy with bloodshot eyes like they haven’t even been to bed yet.

  “Hey girl,” Tasha cheers as I enter the room, and all eyes turn to me.

  I give them all what I hope is a warm smile and pretend like I’m comfortable being around them. I’m not. Not in the way that they make me nervous, but in the way that I don’t seem to relate much to these girls anymore. While Abbey has been my best friend since we were five years old, Tasha, Allison, Amanda and Sophie have trickled into our circle along the way.

  “You guys been up all night?” I ask, spotting a phone charger by the toaster and head over to it.

  “Most of us have. Not Allison though, she’s been busy cozying up to Travis.” Tasha explains, and Allison, with her pink flushed cheeks showing through her dark skin, tosses an empty plastic cup at her, but Tasha dodges it easily.

  While we are all in year 11 at Fox Pines Catholic College, Travis comes from the other side of the tracks, so to speak. He’s a Fox Pines High brat and is in Year 10. It’s funny to think of Allison hooking up with a sixteen-year-old. Yes, he may only be a year younger than us, but it still seems weird.

  Laughter fills the room at Allison’s expense, but I don’t join in as my mind tries to open up a memory—something to do with Travis. I can’t seem to reach it though, and it’s starting to piss me off.

  “Where did you get to last night anyway, Lexi? You were missing for ages.” Allison changes the subject, pulling her raven waves back into a low pony.

  I frown, “I went missing?”

  The girls stay quiet and look between each other before returning their eyes to me.

  “You don’t remember?” Tasha asks, getting up from her chair and walking over to me.

  I shake my head, embarrassed and frustrated.

  “How much did you drink last night?” Tasha asks, now standing in front of me, her chocolate eyes roaming my face. Normally looking more put together, Tasha’s brown ringlets are frizzing at the ends, and her pale skin is peeking through in patches where her too dark foundation has worn off.

  “I don’t remember,” I shrug, “but what I do know is that I don’t feel hungover enough to have drunk so much that I can’t remember.”

  “She wasn’t feeling well and went for a walk.” Abbey takes that moment to walk in the room and smiles at me before coming to my side.

  Tasha turns to Abbey and raises a dark brow, “That’s bullshit Abbey, and you know it!”

  “No, it’s not!” Abbey hisses back at Tasha.

  I am so confused right now.

  “It is Abbey! You were running around frantically trying to find her when you noticed she had disappeared, freaking out because she left her phone behind!”

  My heart races as I comprehend their words. I went missing? And I left my phone behind? That doesn’t sound like me at all.

  “Yes, well, she explained everything when she got back. She was embarrassed to have gotten so sick.” Abbey defends me, putting an arm around my shoulder.

  Tasha goes quiet while she processes what Abbey said, and then she responds with, “whatever.”

  The tension in the air is thick, and I feel like I may suffocate from it, but as luck would have it, Maddie and Kyle enter the room, and all the attention falls to them.

  Thankful I’m no longer the centre of whatever that was, I take a deep breath filling my aching lungs when Abbey leans towards my ear and whispers, “We should get going. I’ll just go and say bye to Daniel, and then meet you out the front.”

  I nod and watch Abbey exit the room before I unplug my phone from the charger and do the same. Slipping quietly out of Tasha’s house, I walk to the end of her drive and sit on the curb in the barely warm Sunday morning sun
to wait for Abbey. Saying goodbye to Daniel will take a few minutes. Even though they will be in each other’s company again later this afternoon, Abbey and Daniel can’t seem to get enough of each other.

  “Sexy Lexi,” a voice comes from behind me before feet appear at my side.

  I look up and watch as Travis takes a seat next to me on the curb.

  “Seriously?” The unwanted endearment, if that’s what you can even call it, is not new to my ears. Why boys think I like the childish rhyming is beyond me.

  “Fun night last night, hey?” Travis nudges my shoulder, his brown eyes looking bloodshot.

  I nod, not even knowing if it was a fun night or not.

  “You wanna’ know what my favourite part was?” He asks, and I shrug, not caring.

  Travis leans in to whisper in my ear, “Our kiss.”

  My head snaps in his direction, and he looks so serious before he chuckles.

  “Oh, Sexy Lexi, you were so fucking baked. Don’t you remember our kiss?”

  I gape at him and scan his face to see if he’s joking, but even though he’s smiling, he exudes certainty.

  “Lost for words?” he chuckles again, his eyes flicking to my mouth.

  Travis is one of those cocky full of themselves ‘footy’ boys who’s popular with a lot of the girls, just like Allison, who was getting cozy with him last night apparently.

  “When exactly did we share a kiss?” I can’t hide the disdain from my voice.

  He looks to my lips and back to my eyes, “Right after you threw a chair through the glass doors.” He looks at my lips again and then back to my eyes, giving me a wink.

  I frown and turn away, trying to remember. I can’t recollect what happened, but I feel like he’s telling the truth, and it makes me shudder. Did I really kiss him? And why did I throw a chair?

  “I can’t remember what happened, Travis, but whatever happened, you need to keep it to yourself!” I snap.

  Travis studies my face before nodding, “okay.”

  “As far as you’re concerned, there was no kiss!” I snap again.

  He grins, “Okay, Sexy Lexi. I’ll keep the kiss to myself, but when you come back for more,” he leans in close, “and you will come back for more,” he sits back again, “I won’t be keeping that to myself.”

  I’m generally not a nasty person, but I’m in full bitch mode now.

  “Like fuck!” I hiss and stand from the curb in time to see Abbey walking out of Tasha’s front door.

  Travis chuckles once again, and I try to ignore it as I put distance between us. I shake my head at Abbey’s questioning brow raise. My heart is thudding in my chest, and I’m feeling beyond anxious. Looking from me to Travis, Abbey sighs and reaches out her hand to me. Knowing I need to keep myself grounded, I take her hand, and we start to walk home.

  I’m quiet as we walk, racking my brain for information on last night’s events. Abbey ends the silence when we have put good distance between us and Tashas’ house.

  “Alexis West, what has gotten into you?”

  I stop walking, shocked at her tone and the use of my full name.

  Sighing again, she looks down at her feet, tucking her dead straight hair behind her ear before looking back to me, “You don’t remember, do you?”

  I shake my head feeling ashamed.

  Abbey’s brown eyes roam my worried face before pulling me in for a hug.

  “Sorry, Lex, I don’t mean to sound like such a nag, but you scared the crap out of me last night.”

  A tear falls from my eye, and I wipe it away quickly, stepping back from Abbey’s embrace.

  “Can you please tell me what in the hell I did last night?” I shake my head again at myself, “I really can’t remember a thing.”

  Grabbing my hand, Abbey tugs me along.

  “I can only tell you what you told me last night, but I can’t be sure if what you told me was right. You were very... out of it.”

  “Did I take something?” My whisper is laced with the shame I feel.

  “Well, not so much take, as smoked.”

  “What!”

  “You smoked weed last night, Lex. It’s not like you to do that.”

  “Fuck.” I mutter in disgust.

  “Fuck’s right. You went into the shed with all the stoners and came out like a frigging zombie. You disappeared for like an hour after that, and I found you wandering back with Travis of all people!”

  “Shit.”

  Abbey nods, “Yep, exactly.”

  “What did I do with Travis?” I’m reluctant to ask, but I have to know.

  “I’m not 100% sure. He was tight-lipped about what you two got up to. Daniel helped me sneak you into the house, and I hopped into bed with you. I felt too scared to leave you alone. You seemed so—reckless.”

  “I’m so sorry, Abs.” A wave of nausea rolls my stomach.

  “You had cuts on your hand, and Travis said you fell into a rosebush. Do you remember that?”

  I shake my head, “No, but I think I remember seeing blood on my hand.”

  “Yeah, apparently Travis cleaned your hand up by sneaking into someone’s front yard and using their hose.”

  I sigh, “I can’t remember any of it.”

  Abbey rubs her thumb over my hand as we continue our walk home.

  “You told me you think Travis kissed you, but you couldn’t really feel it.”

  “What!” I screech, and Abbey laughs.

  “Yep, you kept saying your face was numb, and that’s why you couldn’t feel his kiss.”

  “Oh my god,” I stop walking and bury my head in my hands.

  Abbey pries my hands away, “hey, you told me I should never let you kiss him again if that makes you feel any better?”

  “Yes, good. At least I was coming to my senses at some point.” A little too late, it seems. I’m such an idiot! How could I think smoking weed was a good idea?

  We walk again, and Abbey’s tone turns serious again. “I think you should stay away from weed, Lex.”

  I nod, “me too.”

  Abbey spends the rest of the walk talking about how in love with Daniel she is, and I’m thankful for the distraction even though I have a hard time focusing on what she is saying. We part ways as we get closer to our houses, Abbey going north and I head south.

  As I get nearer to my childhood home, dread starts to fill me. Once, a long time ago, the house that I grew up in had been my haven, the place I could go to be myself and feel safe and loved. Now, the thought of stepping foot inside that house makes me sick to my stomach.

  The urge to turn around and run in the opposite direction consumes me, but knowing there’s nowhere else for me to go unless I want to speak of my shame, means I have no choice but to go home. I slow my steps as I approach my house from across the street, searching for my brother’s blue car. When I don’t see it, relief sweeps over me. If his car isn’t here, it usually means he’s not home.

  My house, now looking aged and outdated, would have looked classy in its day. The two-story house screams happy family with the beige render and the terracotta tiles lining the roof. Dead centre of the second story is my bedroom, jutting out as a feature. The white framed windows match the white railing that runs along the front door and portico, and the gardens are neat and well maintained.

  I shake my head at this house. It looks like it comes out of a family sitcom, only in truth the family that lives there are nothing like the families on those sorts of tv shows. Looks can be deceiving after all.

  I hurry up the front path of my house and see the familiar sight of closed curtains, which pisses me off. I glance down at my phone screen. 11:07 am. It may be a Sunday when a lot of people have a sleep in, but I know why the curtains are closed, and it’s not because my mum slept in. They are closed because she is sobering up.

  That thought just pisses me off too!

  Reaching the door, I get the spare key from under the planter and unlock the front door before returning it. In a mood, I head straigh
t for the front windows in the living room and draw the heavy brown curtains open, letting the winter sun filter in. I continue to do this in each room I pass as I make my way through the house. Just walking in this house has turned my mood sour, which adds to an already pretty shit start to my Sunday.

  Going to my parent’s bedroom at the back of the house on the ground floor, I crack the door open. Actually, I can’t really call it my parent’s bedroom because that would imply that I have two parents living here. It’s my mum’s bedroom. Even though she’s not a very present mum, she is a hell of a lot more present than my dad who claims he is too busy working in the city to come home.

  It feels like more than work to me. My dad hasn’t been back here for a couple of months, and that time when he was here, was only for one night before leaving again. It’s been like that for the past two years, only each time he comes home, he has turned more and more into an arsehole and resembles less and less like the dad that doted on me when I was younger. I don’t know what’s going on with him, and if I’m being honest, I don’t want to know. Dread creeps into my heart any time I let myself wonder what he is doing with all his time away from us.

  There’s no sign of my mum in the bedroom, which means she’s either at the doctors trying to get something to take the edge off, or she’s gone to whoever supplies her with the substances she abuses. If she’s not at either of those places, then I’d probably find her at the Bottlo buying up their scotch supplies.

  This is the way it’s always been, and while I didn’t seem to care when I was younger, I do care now. I’m sick of suffering because of her decisions, or lack of them. I can’t remember the last time she even asked me where I’ve been, or how school is going. I could be running a brothel from my bedroom, and the woman wouldn’t even know. I wonder if she’d even care? Unlikely.

  The rumble of my tummy distracts my thoughts, and I go to the kitchen to make some breakfast. Even though empty fast-food containers and boxes line the bench, there is no actual food in sight. There’s no bread, no milk, no tins of spaghetti, or packets of noodles. The burn of tears threaten because, well, I want food.