I nodded at her grown-up perspective, thinking that was probably true. I’d become Stevie’s emotional punching bag. “Yes. But I suppose some of it is my fault. Tobias didn’t want to hang around with the people Stevie was hanging around. They’re not a good crowd. And when he thought I might get dragged into it, he made the choice to be with me and cut out Stevie. But we asked Stevie to come with us. To stop hanging out with those bad people, too.”
“Bad people?”
I shook my head, unwilling to divulge more.
Mrs. Cruickshank sighed. “Well, all I can say is that I think you did the right thing. You and Tobias. As much as Stevie might be hurting over losing his cousin’s friendship, he had other choices in front of him. Bullying you is not going to solve his problems.”
“So what do I do?”
My neighbor settled her empty mug on her coffee table and turned to face me fully. “I know most adults would tell you to report it, and I do think you should. But I also know that reporting it doesn’t always make it stop. My advice is to do what you think is right for everyone, Comet. Trust yourself. And keep in mind that this moment in time is just a blip on the radar of your life. Don’t twist yourself up in knots over it, when in a few years’ time it will be a distant memory.” She clasped my hand in hers. “Don’t waste your emotions on this, my dear. Give them all to the things that make you happy, here and now.”
Like Tobias. And my poetry. And books.
I heard her words, and I knew there was wisdom in them, but I didn’t know how easy it was going to be to follow that advice when I still felt shaky inside after what had just occurred.
Not long later I left Mrs. Cruickshank and as I walked down my garden path, staring up at the large picture window to my mother’s studio, I found myself growing resentful that I was unable to turn to my parents for the kind of advice and comfort our neighbor had given me. With those feelings churning along with my residual fear I walked into the house and slammed the door behind me without really meaning to.
Well, maybe subconsciously I meant to.
It took me a moment to realize Carrie was coming out of the kitchen with a half-eaten chocolate bar and a bottle of water in her hand. I’d hardly seen her for the past week, because she was working on another private commission. She wore charcoal smudges on her temple, chin and the white artist’s smock that she had in every color. My mother. A cliché.
An explosive anger toward her suddenly fought to be free and I shuddered to hold it in.
Carrie cocked her head to the side, studying me. “Are you okay?”
I’d thought, when I was hurrying down the street with taunts and sexually aggressive insults slamming into my back, that I’d never felt more alone. Yet, staring at this woman, this stranger I’d lived with my whole life, the loneliness, the fear, quadrupled. And it rushed out of me toward her. “When have you ever actually given a fuck?” I shrieked.
Her face slackened in shock and I sped down the hall, tripping over a pair of boots in my hurry and colliding with my door. I growled in outrage and pushed it open, then threw it shut with so much rage that the doorframe shuddered as it crashed shut.
“Oy!” Carrie banged on it.
I immediately slid the lock into place.
“You don’t talk to me like that, Comet!”
I rolled my eyes, wiping my tears and snot from my nose. “Go away!”
“Ugh!” Carrie screeched, sounding like a petulant child.
“What on earth is going on?” I heard Dad’s voice. It sounded like he was at the bottom of the staircase.
“We’re living with a bloody teenager, that’s what’s going on!” Carrie’s footsteps stomped away, and I heard them clobbering up the stairs.
A minute later I heard a gentle tap on my door. “Comet?”
The concern in his voice caused fresh tears to spill down my cheeks, because I needed him to worry, I needed him to care, but I also knew it was only ever temporary. I’d rather have nothing from him than have him give it only to take it away again. White-hot pain lashed across my chest and I hugged myself tight, trying to stop my insides from splitting apart.
“Comet?”
I stifled my sobs, silently pleading with him to go away.
“Comet...I just want to know that you’re okay.”
Realizing he wouldn’t leave until I spoke I struggled to pull myself together.
“Comet?”
“I’m fine,” I croaked.
“You don’t sound fine.”
I fought for more composure and succeeded. Marginally. “I’m fine, Kyle,” I said, and this time my voice sounded stronger.
He was silent a moment and then I heard him sigh. “All right. I’m...well... I’ll be upstairs if you need me.”
I do need you, I wanted to scream as I heard his footsteps fade away from my door. I always need you! But you’re never there! They’re just words! They’re not real! You don’t mean them!
In the history of worst timing ever, Tobias called me not too long after that. I’d cried some more, my face swollen and puffy, my nose bunged up with snot, and my voice hoarse from the constriction of trying to keep my sobs locked inside my throat.
If I didn’t answer, it would worry him after everything that had happened in the cafeteria.
“Hey, how’d it go?” I attempted to sound normal as I answered.
“The coach thinks I’ve got a lot of potential.” His deep, familiar voice soothed me. “He’s letting me train with them. Whether I get to play remains to be seen until we know what I can do on the field. But there are a lot of guys from our school on the team. They seem cool.” He sounded happy. I was glad for him. I was. There was nothing I wanted more than for Tobias to be happy. But his hopefulness made me feel more isolated. More vulnerable. More like the victim Stevie wanted me to be. And I knew right there and then that Mrs. Cruickshank’s advice was going to be too difficult to follow.
Because how could Stevie be so cruel? He wasn’t cruel. I knew him. He wasn’t cruel!
“Comet?”
“That’s wonderful. I’m so happy for you.”
Silence met my response. And then, voice tight, Tobias demanded, “What happened?”
I winced, wishing he didn’t know me so well. “Nothing happened.”
“Something happened. Are you with Vicki and Steph? I don’t hear any noise in the background.”
Feeling guilty, I admitted, “I went home instead.”
“Comet.” He sighed. “Who was it? Who gave you crap?”
“It was nothing, okay. Just let it go.”
“What did they do? Who?”
“It was all of them. Stevie, Alana, their friends. They just...” I squeezed my eyes closed, fear and indignation coalescing inside of me. “They just were doing what they did at lunch.”
“Except you were on your own.” He bit out a curse.
“It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine,” he snapped. “I’m going to kill Stevie.”
The idea of him and Stevie getting physical made the fear overthrow my indignation. “No. Leave it. I mean it, Tobias. They will get bored. We just need to wait it out.”
And I needed to remember that this moment in our lives wouldn’t last forever.
Easier said than done.
THE FRAGILE ORDINARYSAMANTHA YOUNG
19
How easy it would be to just disappear again,
But not without you.
For you I’ll stay here and endure all of them,
Just. Please. Stay. True.
—CC
The person I should have been most wary of was Stevie, I guess, because it was clear none of this would be happening to us without his say-so. But as much as I tried to hold on to my hate for him, I still remembered the tears in his eyes when he talked about how sick his mum was, and the fierce way he’d held on to me when he’d hugged me in comfort.
Stevie was in a lot of pain, and I still felt sorry for him. That didn’t mean I wasn’t furious at him. Because he’d set Alana and Jimmy on us, and those two were the ones I was most afraid of. They had aggressive impulse control problems and one of these days they were going to slip Stevie’s leash. I was sure of it.