You Against Me

by Jenny Downham

  But he didn’t want to go in there in case she tried to stop him leaving. If he was going to fit Sienna in before hooking up with Jacko, he had to go now.

  He kissed the top of Holly’s head. ‘I’ll be back later with some shopping. I’ll get us some nice things.’

  ‘What if a bus hits you?’

  ‘It won’t.’

  ‘But what if it does?’ She looked at him with serious eyes. ‘Please don’t go.’

  But he had to. It was only fair. He pulled on his jacket, did up his zip and smacked his chest like a gorilla. It usually made her laugh, but not today.

  Ten

  ‘Karyn McKenzie’s a slut and everyone knows it.’

  Ellie didn’t know this girl, or any of the other kids who sidled up to her in the playground and stood around in small groups listening in.

  ‘She started having sex in Year Eight,’ the girl said. ‘She bragged about that for weeks. And remember the rumour about her and that boy from college?’

  Ellie nodded. Karyn was a liar who came from a crazy family. She got wasted and slept with Tom, then changed her mind in the morning. Ellie wished she’d come back to school days ago. She’d never been so popular.

  ‘I heard she’s gone really weird,’ another girl said, ‘all agoraphobic or alcoholic or something.’

  ‘It’s guilt,’ the first girl said. ‘If you turn up uninvited to a boy’s house dressed like a ho, it’s not a total surprise when he jumps you, is it?’

  A couple of boys laughed. One of them patted Ellie on the back as if they’d been mates for years. ‘So, did your brother get charged twice?’

  ‘Um, sorry, what do you mean?’

  ‘She’s only fifteen, yeah?’ He leaned close, grinning. ‘Did he get charged once ‘cos she’s too young, and twice ‘cos he never bothered asking if she wanted it?’

  But before she could tell him to piss off, Rebecca and Lucy from her tutor group ran over. Lucy took her hand. ‘You came back!’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘We didn’t think you would.’

  They asked question after question – Were you in the house when it happened? Is it true you spoke to Karyn in the morning? Did she tell you she was going to the police?

  Ellie tried to stay calm. She felt as if she’d been running up stairs, or as if she’d suddenly become asthmatic. It was one thing listening to other people talk, but she didn’t want to go into details herself.

  ‘I’m not allowed to discuss it, sorry.’

  Rebecca looked disappointed. ‘We won’t tell.’

  She grabbed at the best excuse she could think of. ‘The police said I shouldn’t.’

  Lucy put an arm round Ellie’s shoulder. ‘We’re all friends.’

  Ellie cast a quick look round. A boy gave her a wave as their eyes met, a boy next to him shook his head as if he was disappointed. A girl sucked her teeth, leaned back and said, ‘Ellie Parker, you’re so up your own arse.’

  Laughter rippled through the crowd as Ellie moved away.

  Maybe this was what it was like to be famous – not knowing what was real and what was fake, just grinning and trying to let everything wash over you.

  She walked the playground to kill time, head down, eyes on her shoes, one step at a time. Soon this would be over, soon the bell would go and she would be in her tutor room and there would be teachers and work to do. In a few days the great gossip machine would move on. She simply had to get through it until then.

  It was difficult to get to the doors when the bell went. A boy brushed her arm, whispered, ‘Your brother’s a paedo.’

  Another said, ‘How’s your brother?’ And when Ellie told him Tom was fine, he said, ‘Shame.’

  Three girls who would never acknowledge her any other day came up.

  ‘How’s Tom managing?’ they asked, all soft-voiced and concerned, as if he had many wives.

  ‘Um, he’s OK.’

  ‘Tell him we’re thinking of him. Tell him Lily, Alice and Caitlin send their love.’

  ‘OK, thanks. I’ll tell him.’

  A strained stillness enveloped the tutor room as she went in, and all eyes turned to her as she made her way to her place. Conor Lockhead, the class prat, came straight over and sat on the edge of her desk.

  ‘Hey,’ he said. ‘Is it true your brother raped a girl?’

  Ellie chose to ignore him and slunk into her seat.

  ‘Is he in prison?’ Conor said.

  ‘No.’

  ‘So, he didn’t do it?’

  ‘He didn’t do it.’

  ‘Is he back at college?’

  ‘He’s not allowed back yet.’

  Conor looked confused. ‘I thought you said he didn’t do it.’

  ‘He didn’t. Listen, I’m not supposed to talk about it.’

  She got out a pen and paper and kept her eyes firmly fixed on them. She began to doodle a tree with many sprouting heads, all teeth and snarl. She wished she had a friend, someone to sit next to, keeping her safe.

  Mr Donal came in, coughing, saw Ellie and smiled. ‘Welcome back.’

  And that’s all he said. He had a stack of sheets with him, handed them out swiftly, and soon they were all occupied with filling in questionnaires on their progress reports. Excellent plan. Total silence. No talking allowed. No moving, or standing, or going to the toilet, or walking past and shoving secret elbows into Ellie’s back. But it only lasted fifteen minutes, then the bell went for period one.

  First to approach her in Maths was Danny, six foot tall and the only boy she’d ever kissed. He’d asked her for the last dance at the Christmas party and they hadn’t spoken since. She blushed every time she saw him and today was no exception.

  He said, ‘Sorry to hear about your brother.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Has he got a court date?’

  She shook her head, knew it made her look sullen, but she couldn’t speak, could barely look at him. This hadn’t been her idea of the next conversation they’d have.

  ‘Well, best of luck with it all.’

  He walked away and it was like passing a baton, because before she’d even stopped blushing, a friend of Karyn’s strode up.

  ‘You’re the talk of the school,’ she said.

  ‘Me, or my brother?’

  ‘Well, since he’s not here, I guess I mean you.’

  Ellie stared down at her Maths book, prayed for the teacher to hurry up and tried to concentrate on saying very little.

  The girl leaned forward. ‘Karyn won’t see anyone, she’s locked herself in her flat and never goes out. You tell your brother that.’

  ‘I’m not allowed to talk about this.’

  The girl ignored her. ‘We text her, but she won’t see us. None of us. Not even Stacey.’

  ‘I’m sorry, but I have nothing to say.’

  ‘Do you feel guilty?’

  Heat crept from Ellie’s neck to her face. ‘Why would I?’

  ‘Well, if I was the only other person in a house when someone got raped, I’d feel pretty guilty.’

  It was a total relief when Ms Farish arrived and the lesson began. On her worksheet, Ellie wrote out formulae. In her head, she tried to remember, like a series of photos, the sequence of things – Karyn and Stacey and three boys turned up at the house with Tom. It was Saturday night and Mum and Dad were away. Ellie went upstairs. Later, she looked out of her window and saw Tom and Karyn with their arms round each other. Even later, she saw them kiss on the landing outside her bedroom door. She watched Tom’s hand creep down Karyn’s back. She watched Karyn lift one of her strappy heels from the floor and press herself closer to him. No one knew Ellie saw that kiss, no one in the world. If Tom liked Karyn, and she liked him back, why would he hurt her? Why would he take something when Karyn was going to give it for free?

  English followed Maths and was the last lesson before break. Kids who hadn’t seen her yet either insisted on asking questions, or kept quiet and shot daggers with their eyes. Maybe when everyone had se
en her once and decided what their response was, they’d get back to what they usually did and ignore her.

  At break, the corridor wasn’t as bad as she’d imagined. No one pushed her, no one thumped her or slammed her against the lockers. When she went to the toilet, the only other girl in there merely grinned and said, ‘Hi.’

  Ellie started to relax. It wasn’t so bad. Far worse to be Karyn – stuck in her flat avoiding everyone. She probably wished she hadn’t started all this, and that Tom was her boyfriend instead of her enemy.

  So when Ellie saw Stacey and her mate sitting on a bench under the trees, she knew what she had to do. She felt brave and certain as she walked up and stood in front of them. They both stared up at her in total disbelief. But it was too late now.

  She said, ‘How’s Karyn?’

  Stacey shook her head slowly. ‘Are you talking to me?’

  ‘I was wondering how Karyn was.’

  ‘Piss off.’

  ‘I met you when you came round my house that night, do you remember? I know you’re her friend and I didn’t want to ignore you – it felt important.’

  ‘Important?’ Stacey’s lips curled as if something tasted bad in her mouth.

  ‘Yes.’ Ellie knew she was blushing, hated how hot she felt. ‘Someone told me she’s not leaving her flat any more.’

  Stacey stood up and took a step towards Ellie. She had thin lips and pale skin. Her eyes were brown. Ellie had never known any of these things about her before. ‘If I got nut-job texts from your brother, I’d be too scared to go out.’

  ‘He’s not allowed to text her.’

  ‘I’m talking before, when she told him she was going to the cops.’

  Ellie shook her head. She had no clue what Stacey was talking about. ‘How is she now? That’s what I’m asking.’

  Stacey took another step forward. ‘She won’t leave the flat, she won’t see her friends, she won’t come to school. She’s having a total breakdown. Satisfied?’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Why, what did you do?’

  ‘Nothing. I’m sorry, that’s all. Could you please tell her I’m sorry?’

  ‘You think she gives a crap how you feel?’

  Ellie could feel humiliation burning her face, down her neck to her chest. Even her fingers burned with shame. She turned away.

  But Stacey grabbed her sleeve. ‘Don’t walk away from me!’

  Ellie yanked her arm free and tried to push past them, but Stacey and her mate separated and came round on either side of her, backing her towards the fence. It was a perfect manoeuvre, like something rehearsed. They stood in front of Ellie, blocking her way. She tried to stare them out, but it was difficult to focus – the playground appeared to tilt behind them.

  Stacey said, ‘Why did you tell the cops you never saw anything?’

  ‘Because I didn’t.’

  ‘How can that be true?’

  Both girls looked her up and down. Ellie tried to push past, but they pushed her back. She stumbled, nearly fell.

  Stacey said, ‘Where were you all night?’

  ‘Asleep.’

  The mate said, ‘Yeah, course you were.’

  People were beginning to notice. Three boys standing further along the fence were clocking it all. One of them yelled, ‘Cat fight.’

  No, Ellie didn’t want this. With people looking she’d have to do something, say something. She’d look stupid if she didn’t defend herself. Or guilty.

  She tried to break free again. ‘Let me go.’

  Stacey shoved her back. ‘Or what? What you gonna do, bitch? You gonna rape me?’

  She was blaring it out. The boys jogged over. Stacey’s eyes glittered as she turned to them. ‘She was threatening me, did you get that?’

  Ellie felt a shift in her belly as more kids came running up. What’s going on? What’s it about? Acid churned in her stomach.

  ‘Let me go.’

  ‘Why should I?’

  ‘Because I haven’t done anything to you.’

  ‘You’re his lying sister, aren’t you?’

  And that’s when Ellie felt anger, like liquid rising. ‘And what are you, Stacey? What’s the name for someone who dumps their best friend so they can go home with a boy?’

  ‘I didn’t dump her, I left her with your brother. How was I to know he was a rapist?’

  ‘Why would he rape her when she was gagging for it?’

  ‘Because he’s a paedo perve, like the rest of his family.’ Stacey rolled her eyes, playing to the audience. ‘Your mum shag a dog, or something?’

  ‘Yeah, course she did.’ Ellie folded her arms at her. ‘What else do you know?’

  ‘I know you’re a bitch.’

  ‘You said that one already.’

  ‘And a slapper.’

  ‘Very original.’ Ellie took a step nearer. Her brain felt pure, thoughts came hot and simple. ‘At least I’m not fat.’

  Stacey looked down at herself. ‘I’m not fat.’

  ‘You keep telling yourself that.’

  Somebody laughed and Ellie felt a stab of pleasure. Stacey ran her tongue across her lips.

  ‘Come on,’ Ellie said, ‘you must be able to think of something else to say about me. You can’t be as dim as you look.’

  ‘You’re the one who’s dim.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘’Cos you’re a nerd. Look at you, in your crap tights and shoes.’

  Stacey had bronze foundation on her face. It stopped at the point where her chin met her neck, so there was a line. She had a spattering of spots across her forehead and around her nose. She was sweating.

  Ellie shrugged. ‘I can always change my clothes – what’re you going to do about your face?’

  Again, a ripple of laughter.

  Blood thundered in her ears. ‘Don’t feel bad, Stacey. I’m sure your zits don’t look obvious in the dark.’

  The crowd whistled approval. Ellie was vaguely aware of someone trying to muscle nearer and someone else shoving them back. ‘Don’t stop them, man.’

  Ellie slagged off Stacey’s fake tan, her pudgy knees, her plastic earrings. The crowd laughed. And if they were laughing at Stacey, then they weren’t laughing at her.

  Every curse she’d ever heard any girl yell at any other came hurtling out of her mouth. If she said them first, then Stacey couldn’t use them. Like a poison-pen letter – pass it on or die. She told Stacey she should sue her parents, warned her she wouldn’t piss in her ear if her brain was on fire. And the crowd cheered her on.

  It felt like spewing. You chuck up and the stink is out of you. You leave it somewhere else and you can walk away clean.

  But Stacey couldn’t stand it. She grabbed Ellie’s ponytail and yanked it hard. Ellie put her hands to her head to protect herself, and Stacey slapped her. It jolted Ellie’s neck, pain seared into her cheek.

  ‘How’d you like that?’ Stacey hissed, her face twisted, spit on her lips. ‘You want some more?’

  She pulled Ellie’s hair again, slapped her a second time. Something rattled in Ellie’s head, as if her brain had loosened. All her words were lost. No! No! She wouldn’t win this. All the things Stacey couldn’t say were spilling onto her head.

  And then a miracle. ‘Teacher!’

  The crowd legged it, the teacher came bowling in. ‘Break it up!’ he yelled. ‘Stacey Clarke, what the hell are you doing?’

  And Stacey said, ‘Me? It’s not me! This girl’s crazy!’

  But she let go.

  Ellie struggled free, her hand to her scalp, to her cheek. She opened one eye to Mr Morris, her History teacher.

  He said, ‘You OK?’

  Her brain felt hot, the world seemed to have got brighter, like an over-developed photo. She said, ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Good, because you’re both coming with me.’

  He sat Ellie in reception, gave her a sheet of A4 and a pen. ‘Write a statement,’ he said. ‘Exactly what happened, from the very beginning. I’ll be back.’
/>   He took Stacey with him. She scowled at Ellie over her shoulder as she was led away.

  Ellie stared at the sheet for a moment. It swung from cream to white, through shades of eggshell blue to grey. Ellie wondered briefly if she had concussion. Maybe Stacey had given her brain damage.

  She wrote her name on the top of the sheet and underlined it. The ink was blue.

  Then she looked at the secretaries, two of them busy on their computers, completely ignoring her. Out in the foyer, a pale boy sat on a bench, his coat on his lap. Beyond the doors, the playground had emptied out, excitement over, classes resumed.

  She should be in Art. It was the one thing she’d been looking forward to.

  She looked back down at the paper. It reminded her of the police station, of the two detectives behind the desk. Good cop, bad cop. All the questions they’d asked. Where were you? No, where exactly? Who was your brother with? What time was this? All we need is the truth, Ellie.

  Well, the truth was that she had nothing further to add. She scrawled this in big letters across the clean page, then she stood up and walked out of the office. One of the secretaries glanced up and looked straight back down. Ellie was evidently too much hassle for her. The boy in the foyer winced as she walked by. Maybe she should whack him, give him a reason to be afraid. What would happen to her then? How bad could she get?

  She walked across the empty playground, her shoes scuffing the tarmac. She unzipped her coat, raked her hair until it was wild, undid her top shirt button and rolled her skirt high, so the breeze swirled her thighs. Everything seemed more than it usually did – the earth lit with sun so bright, a single seagull circling low over the river.

  She stood on the bridge. She was different from earlier. The rush of badness was thrilling, like something had found a voice. She felt alive. Not a mermaid. Not someone who combed their hair all day and sat on a frigging rock. She mentally torched that image, watched all the scales catch fire and shimmer silver before sinking beneath the water.

  She’d emerge as Phoenix from the X-Men movie – the one with the red eyes, so angry that she’s off the scale, able to destroy the universe with the power of her mind.

  And if she was Phoenix, then anything could happen next.

  Eleven