‘Oh yeah, sure, blame the victim.’ Kasha takes two steps towards me and I take two back. ‘Next you’ll be saying she was asking for it.’
‘Fuck’s sake, it was nothing, barely anything!’ I feel my throat tighten and I know that if I speak again I will cry. If I walk away I’ll look like I don’t care, if I stay I’ll look pathetic.
‘Fuck off the lot of you.’ Leo appears at my side. ‘Go on, fuck off and go and cackle somewhere else, witches.’
‘So you’re on her side?’ Tasha raises a brow. ‘You think it’s OK, what she did to Rose?’
‘No, I’m not on anyone’s side, because there are no sides, you fucking child. Now fuck off.’
Kasha and Leo stand eye to eye for a moment, and she sneers at him, turning on her heel, and Parminder and the others follow.
‘What the fuck?’ Leo shakes his head at me.
‘I d . . . don’t know. I thought. It seemed like . . . ’
He puts his hand on my shoulder and marches me down the corridor, through to the music room, and I’m not sure if he is protecting me, or taking me somewhere private to beat the crap out of me, but at least no one messes with Leo, no one stops him, or says anything. They just watch as we walk by.
‘What the fuck, Red?’ Leo asks again as he shuts the door hard. ‘What did you do?’
‘I didn’t . . .’ I say. ‘I . . . I just tried to kiss her.’
‘What the fuck?’ Leo stares at me in disbelief, like I am a moron, and the thing is, I think he is probably right.
‘I know Leo, I know, OK? I know how it sounds. I got it wrong, I got carried away and I thought the things she said meant something they didn’t, and it lasted for about a second and then she told me to go, and I went. I tried to kiss a girl and got brushed off. Don’t tell me you haven’t done the same, without all of this shit?’
‘But Rose isn’t a girl, Red.’ Leo shoves me in my shoulder a little, and I have to fight not to falter backwards. ‘She’s not some woman you met in a bar. It’s Rose. Rose. Fuck, don’t you think there have been times when I’ve wanted to tell her how I feel about her, never mind trying to fucking kiss her? But I don’t. Because it’s Rose. And she doesn’t need you and me to fancy her. We’re supposed to be more important than that. She needs us to be her friends. Why do you think I haven’t ever tried to kiss her, as much as I’d like to.’
His voice softens with the admission, his head dropping. He’s angry at me and he’s right to be.
‘Dude,’ he says, shaking his head.
‘That’s the trouble though, isn’t it,’ I say. ‘I’m not a dude.’
‘Dude,’ Leo says again. ‘Red, no one cares that you’re a girl. No one cares that you are gay. This isn’t about that.’
Sitting down on the platform where the drums are set up, I run my fingers over my head, and feel twisted inside, out of kilter, jangled and mismatched.
‘Jesus, Leo, what am I going to do?’
‘Find Rose,’ Leo sits next to me. ‘Front it out, face it and sort this shit out. But before you do that, Red, you got to get your head round who you are. You got to own it. You look like you own it, you dress like you own it, but really you are just playing a part, with your hair and your clothes. You hide who you are, what you want. You live life in neutral, and neutral doesn’t work. You can’t go around just hoping that no one will notice your skinny little arse, because if you do, they are always gonna be freaked out by you just being who you really are.’
‘Oh fuck off, Leo,’ I retort, because he’s hurt me with the truth. ‘I don’t need you to mansplain my sexuality to me. How would you know what it’s like to be gay or anything like it? You have got it easy, you’re a straight boy, you play guitar, you are taller than all the girls. You haven’t got anything to worry about.’
‘Seriously?’ He stares at me. ‘You have noticed where I’m from, right?’
‘It doesn’t matter to me where people are from, what colour their skin is or how much money they have, or if they like boys or girls or . . . or . . . any of that shit. Why can’t people just be people?’
‘Because people are arseholes,’ Leo says. ‘And the world is supposed to be getting a better, fairer place, but it isn’t. And it ain’t gonna any time soon. So the only thing we can do is look out for ourselves, Red. And that’s it.’
Neither one of us says anything for a moment. I think we both sense that one false move could mean another friend down, and neither of us wants that.
‘So,’ Leo says adjusting his tone. ‘Have you seen her since?’
‘No, is she at school?’
‘I don’t know, I ain’t seen her this morning.’
Ugh, it feels like I’ve ripped down the world around me, and I’ll have to start again from scratch.
‘Do you think she’ll come to rehearsal?’
‘Do you think we’ve even got a gig, any more? We were supposed to be doing this for Naomi, and now . . . why did you have to kiss her? Your band mate! We said right at the beginning, that we have to keep it mates between us. This is how bands break up!’
‘Right, so if Rose walked in here right now, and said Leo, will you go out with me, you’d say no, right? Right?’
‘Yeah . . . I don’t know. Yeah.’
The door opens and slams shut and there she is. Rose. Hands on her hips, hair tied back from her face, no makeup, jeans and a T-shirt. And she is mad as hell.
‘It’s Red or me,’ Rose says looking at Leo but pointing at me.
‘Rose . . . come on, really?’ Leo shakes his head. ‘Red is an idiot, but you know she didn’t mean to upset you like this, you know her, right?’
‘Are you telling me that what she did to me is OK?’ Rose’s eyes flash, and I see not only the anger on her face but pure hurt, and my gut twists in anguish. ‘I thought I was with a friend, and she puts the moves on me? That’s like . . . that’s like you putting the moves on me when all we are is mates. It’s creepy, and it’s wrong.’
I don’t think Rose knows how much she’s hurt Leo with those few words because although I see it – the tightening in his jaw, the sigh – she isn’t looking for it. The only thing she is looking for is a fight.
‘Really, the only thing Red has done is fallen for you, and been a bit of an idiot.’ Leo stands up as he talks to Rose. ‘She tried to kiss you, a dick move yeah. But she doesn’t deserve to be trolled for it.’
‘Are you calling me a liar?’ Rose takes a step towards him, sparks flying off her.
Leo frowns clearly expecting Rose to back down, or at least soften a little. He looks at me and then back at Rose.
‘It was just a kiss, right?’
‘Fuck you,’ Rose says. ‘If I didn’t want it, it doesn’t matter if it’s a kiss or a grope or a fucking handshake. You don’t do that, you don’t just grab a person like that, it’s not right.’
‘Rose, please. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you like this, I got it so wrong . . . but I really care about you and . . .’
‘I thought you did.’ Rose stares at me, and the look of fury and hurt on her face makes my blood run cold. ‘I thought you cared about me, but you are just like the rest, pawing at me like I’m a piece of meat. I trusted you.’
‘I love you!’ The words explode out of my mouth. ‘I love you, because you aren’t just “a piece of meat”, because you are funny, and clever and talented and kind, because you care about me, and sometimes it feels like you are the only person that does. And yesterday I felt overwhelmed with those feelings. I made a mistake, I should have kept it a secret. I made a mistake, Rose. If you were my friend you’d understand.’
Rose looks at me for a long, cold moment.
‘If you were my friend you’d understand why I can never forgive you for what you did. Gig’s off.’
‘Rose . . .’ Leo calls after her but as she opens the door Mr Smith appears. Rose stops dead in front of him, her eyes on his, her shoulders moving with every breath, and I can’t tell if she’s going to shout
at him too, or burst into tears. She does neither, she just stops dead.
‘Where do you think you’re going?’ he says, putting his hand on her arm. ‘Guys, we need to talk.’
I expect Rose to push past him, but she doesn’t, instead she steps aside to let him into the room and leans against the closed door.
‘Look,’ Mr Smith says. ‘Us teachers aren’t immune to the gossip that goes around the school. Are you two OK?’
He looks from me to Rose.
‘I’ve apologised,’ I say. ‘It was a mistake.’
‘Good.’ Mr Smith nods. ‘Look, Red, I think what’s happening to you at the moment is pretty disgusting . . . ’
Rose snorts and shakes her head.
‘And what about what happened to me, sir,’ she says. ‘You’re OK with that, are you?’
‘Rose, just dial down the drama queen act for a moment please.’ Mr Smith gives her this look, and amazingly Rose stills, her head drops, her cheeks ignite.
‘Act? She forced herself on me, is that OK in your book?’ Rose takes a step towards him.
‘Of course it’s not OK,’ Smith looks at me and I want to die on the spot. ‘That is never OK, Rose. But was there malice, anger or hate when Red made that mistake? You pushed her away and she didn’t try again, did she?’
‘No.’ Rose’s shoulders drop, some of her anger fading. ‘No, I guess not.’
‘Look, school bands break up all the time because the kids fall out or get involved and then fall out.’ Mr Smith looks at each of us in turn. ‘It’s boring, it’s predictable, and who the fuck cares, because none of you are going to make it as musicians anyway. In a couple of years school will be done, and you’ll live off your dad,’ he says to Rose before switching his gaze to me. ‘You’ll go away to uni, and find a nice girlfriend and you . . .’ His eyes land on Leo. ‘Well, hopefully you won’t follow in your brother’s footsteps.’
Leo’s expression darkens.
‘That’s what I could say,’ Mr Smith adds. ‘That’s what I’d say if you lot were like any of the other school bands that I’ve worked with. But you aren’t. You are actually good, you can play, and write and sing and you might be able to do something with this. If you can stick together. If you can keep playing despite this . . . squabble. And at the very least, I would have thought all of you would want to do this for Naomi. Or are you really OK with letting down her family, her mum and dad who have been so looking forward to the concert, to seeing how much her daughter means to people and having some little shred of hope that something good has come out of something so terrible.’
Rose sinks down onto a chair, burying her head in her hands.
Leo turns away, staring out of the window.
I’m the only one who doesn’t look away from Mr Smith.
‘I want to play at the concert,’ I say. ‘I will.’
‘Leo?’
‘Yeah.’ Leo nods. ‘I’m in.’
‘Rose?’
Rose doesn’t move for a while and then she pushes her hair back from her face.
‘I’ll do it,’ she says. ‘For Nai, after that . . . I don’t know.’
‘Thank you,’ Mr Smith says. ‘Rose, calm this stuff down about Red, OK? Say what you have to to take the drama out of it. It’s the last thing the school needs.’
Rose sighs, pressing her lips together.
‘Seriously?’ Smith looks hard at her. ‘You are better than that, Rose. At least I thought you were. You’re not a bully.’
For a moment it looks like she might challenge him, but then she stops herself, and shrugs.
‘Fine,’ she says. ‘But only for Nai, for the concert.’
‘Right, better get on with rehearsal then,’ Mr Smith replies, opening the door to the corridor, pushing his way through a small crowd that had gathered to peer in through the window.
‘Show’s over,’ Rose spits at them. ‘Everyone fuck off.’
‘Even me?’ Leckraj’s voice comes out of the press of faces.
‘No of course not fucking you . . . get in here, idiot.’
I pick up my sticks and sit at the drums.
Leo picks up the set sheet.
‘I think we should go over “Left Overs” – it’s the one Leckraj has rehearsed the least.’
‘Fine, let’s get on with it.’ Rose adjusts her mic stand.
‘Rose,’ I say. ‘Thank you for not walking out.’
‘Fuck you,’ she says, without looking at me. ‘This changes nothing.’
Red’s Fuck You Playlist
Psychosocial/Slipknot
Please Don’t Go/The Violent Femmes
Ride a White Swan/T-Rex
Girls Like Girls/Hayley Kiyoko
Make Me Wanna Die/The Pretty Reckless
Death of a Batchelor/Panic! At the Disco
Smells Like Teen Spirit/Nirvana
Heathens/Twenty One Pilots
27
As soon as the rehearsal finished I ducked out of school and headed for the hospital. Another two hours of all that shit is the last thing I need.
Ash is sitting outside Naomi’s room, headphones plugged in, laptop open.
In Naomi’s room I can see Jackie and Max sitting by her bed. Jackie holds Nai’s hand, and Max holds hers, and they both sit in silence, watching the rise and fall of their daughter’s chest.
Sitting down next to Ash, I tap her on her shoulder and she slides off her headphones as she looks at me, her normally poker-straight hair a little mussed up and tangled.
‘Any news?’ I ask her.
‘They are going to start weaning her off the drugs after the weekend,’ Ash says. ‘They say the swelling has all gone, no bleeding, all the other injuries are healing, so now it’s just seeing what happens when she wakes up. If she can breathe for herself . . . if she can still talk, see. That sort of thing.’
‘Fuck. That’s heavy shit.’ It still seems impossible even after the last few days, even after sitting by her bedside, that this is real. I can’t get my head round the idea that she could wake up damaged, or even not at all.
‘In a way . . .’ Ash looks up from the laptop. ‘In a way it’d almost be better if she stayed like that forever, at least when she’s like that there’s hope.’
‘Dark,’ I say.
‘I feel dark.’ Ash sighs, and I do the same in solidarity. Really what I want to do is go and sit next to Naomi, and just hang out with her for a bit, but I don’t want to intrude on the silent vigil taking place in her room. Does she dream, I wonder, or feel the touch of her mum’s hand? Does she know they are there? I hope she does, otherwise being shut inside her head with all those secrets that she is keeping must be a very lonely and frightening place to be.
‘Your dad took the bait on my phishing email this morning,’ Ash tells me, and that’s another dark thought that comes crashing back in. ‘Old people are so easy.’
‘You looked at his computer?’
Ash nods. ‘Yep, been all over it, do you know your baby photos are on there? Mate, you were an ugly baby, like all red.’
‘Ash, don’t fuck with me please, not today.’
The corner of her mouth twitches with a tiny smile.
‘Red, your dad is a good man. Like a better-than-average man. Apart from all the women he is cheating on your mother with, he’s basically a stand-up guy.’
‘Seriously?’ Blood rushes to my face, my cheeks burn with relief. ‘But who was the girl?’
‘He’s working with a local charity to try and rehome families made homeless through domestic violence. That girl, that was a photo taken by her dad, who found out where she was living and sent it as a threat to her mum. That’s why the folders are numbered. No names for safety. You really need to get him to update his software and give him a basic tutorial on not clicking on a link in dodgy emails.’
‘My dad is a good man,’ I repeat the words.
‘He’s not perfect, but he’s not evil.’
‘Good because how awkward would that be?’ I
say, and we smile at each other, a moment of warmth passing between us. If there is one good thing to come out of this, it’s getting to know Ash, spending time with her. Seeing the humour that she normally keeps so carefully hidden away.
‘I’ve been looking at this tattoo for hours.’ Ash turns back to her screen. ‘I managed to separate out eight layers of numbers, punctuation and letters – see?’
‘How?’ I ask, peering over her shoulder. ‘I mean how do you decide which number is part of which layer?’
‘Because even though it looks really messed up, there is a pattern.’ That hint of a smile again. ‘I told you there would be. My theory is that each number or letter directly touches part of the other number and letters in its layer. At least that’s what I’m hoping. If it’s not that, then . . . fuck knows.’
Ash shows me eight separate semi-circles that she has separated out from the original design.
‘So now I’m looking at them for another pattern that makes sense. Something that’s going to enable me to crack the code, but I don’t have the key. I don’t have any way of knowing where to start. I’ve tried as many combinations as I can and I’m no further on, and there are a billion potential combinations here. So I ask this group of activists I know, they are all like, what the fuck? I’m stuck, out of ideas, and maybe I’m trying to decode something that isn’t even there, know what I mean?’
She looks at me and I shrug, this kind of thing isn’t really my bag. Now, if she wanted me to upset and alienate one of the people I care about most in the world, that I can do.
I peer at the images, one after the other. They are like those annoying tests you get sometimes on websites when they want you to prove that you are human. The more you look the less you see.
‘I mean, are they even in the right order?’ I ask her, ‘Like left to right?’
Ash shrugs. ‘Fuck knows.’
‘Because that third circle. That’s looks like it could be . . . No, I’m probably being ridiculous.’
‘What?’ Ash looks at me. ‘Go on, there are no stupid ideas. Much.’
‘Well, that could be a dot com, right? A dot and C O M. Could it mean dot com?’
Mirror, Mirror Page 19
