Authors: Kara Karnatzki
Chapter Thirty Five
I hate violence.
I’
ve never understood why people think i
t’
s a way to solve problems. Violence just causes more pain and upset. And it certainly is
n’
t heroic.
Marshall Finch taught me that.
Not long after I started going out with him, he began to show his mean side. Not to me - he treated
me
like a princess. It was other people: friends, boys, even my own sister. Basically, anyone I spent time with, other than him. I guess he had a possessive streak. He did
n’
t liketo share my attention. I hate to think about it. Even now. Sometimes I make myself though, because I do
n’
t want the memory to stay trapped inside me. All that frustrationand regret, I do
n’
t want it to turn me into a bitter person.
Dumping Marshall was the smartest thing I ever did. God knows it took me a while, but when I made up my mind I knew I was never going bac
k–
despite what
he
thought. The turning point happened one Sunday, a really sunny Sunday in June. I was coming back from tennis and this guy, Alex Menzies, started talking to me at the bus stop. He looked about sixteen, same age as me.
I’
d seen him around the tennis club, but we'd never spoken. He asked what college I went to, where I bought the army-issue satchel that was slung over my shoulder. He looked like he was into music. I did
n’
t think anything of it, no big deal. In all honesty, I thought he was slightly annoying. Then one of Marshal
l’
s friends drove past and saw us chatting. When Marshall found out, he got the wrong idea. He tracked Alex down and beat him up so badly, he was in hospital for a week. Three broken ribs and a fractured skull. Marshall was arrested. It all went to court. I had to give evidence, but in the end Alex Menzies dropped the charges. I think he was scared. It was awful, the worst time of my life.
So now, I did
n’
t need to watch Curtis take pot shots at Byron, or have Leon hold me back. I understood their distress. I felt it too. I wanted Greg and I wanted Gemma and I wanted to know they were okay. But fighting would
n’
t help. How could it?
Chapter Thirty Six
I stumbled through the dark space, whispering Byro
n’
s name. I did
n’
t want the others to know I was looking or that I cared, but it was
n’
t right to leave to him like that, whatever h
e’
d done. Meanwhile, Leon lingered near the window and watched the rain fall on the mess of the town below. I say he watched; really, he just stared, blank-eyed. Curtis cowered in the store cupboard. I could hear him sobbing amongthe clutter. All his rage had been spent. Nothing left but tears. Perhaps if h
e’
d cried them in the first place, he would
n’
t have behaved so aggressively. I thought of Byro
n’
s claim about Curtis having a sinister side. Hard to believe, given his clownish nature, but there you go. Now
I’
d seen it for myself.
My head started to ache, a tight band of tension. When I could
n’
t find Byron, I sat down, hugged my knees to my chest, buried my face in my hands. It felt like everything was my fault. If
I’
d only escapedwith Gemma when sh
e’
d asked...if
I’
d told Greg about the Molly problem earlier...rewind a week: if I'd put a stop to the stupid clay fight...
It was all on my shoulders.
A fork of lightening split the sky. The brightness was startling, a momentary sheet of electric white. It was relief from the dark, but it was also terrifying. More bad weather. More trouble. I used to love thunderstorms, but this one felt like punishment. As the sky rumbled and the wind and rain pounded the windows, I started to cry. I was cold. I was frightened. And I was confused.
To calm myself, I did my best to focus on good things. I thought about everything I loved, everything that was good in my life. I had parents who loved me, who made sure I was safe and happy, who told me they were proud of me; a sister I loved (seventy per cent of the time); a decent house with a big garden and two cats and a deck for barbecues. I had money to buy new clothes and nail polish and music. I liked music. And art. And seeing my friends. And Leon Prentice.
I hugged my knees tighter, chewed on my sleeve. I could see him in the shadows, twiddling bits of fabric, trying to make his 'rope'. I think he knew I was looking a him, but he avoided my gaze. Was he angry? Did he hate me? Had I allowed Byron - weird, freaky Byron - to wreck his opinion of me?
Another crack of lightening lit the sky. My phone. I just needed my phone. One phone-call could make the difference, one messageto let my mum know how bad things were, how desperately we needed help. If Byron did
n’
t take the phones and no one else did, then they
had
to be somewhere. I got to my knees and began to scrabble on the floor, under the chairs, beneath the tables.
I worked my way across the room, covered every square inch, around the easels, the sideboard, behind the computer table. Maybe the
y’
d fallen down the back of something? Or been knocked to one side? I went back to where I started, the
n
…
‘
I'm here for you, Kate
,’
said a voice in the dark.
I jumped, crept back. A person-shaped silhouette was standing above me.
‘
Do
n’
t look so scared
,
’ itsaid.
‘
Who did you think -
?
’
Leon. It was Leon.
I’
d thought it was Byron. And as much I felt bad to admit it,
I’
d been alarmed.
‘
I'm sorry
,
’ Leon whispered, offering me his hand.
He helped me to my feet.
‘
You were right. I should have stopped the fight
.
’
‘
It was hardly a fight
,’
I said.
‘
It was entirely one-side
.
’
‘
I know. And even though Byron had it coming to him, it has
n’
t helped. I
t’
s just made everyone more stressed
.
’
He paused, thought for a minute.
'But we'll be okay,' he said. 'The pla
n’
s coming together.
I’
ve worked out how much rope we need.'
‘
I do
n’
t know about this rope - '
'But, Kate, there's no way we can stay. We do
n’
t have a clue where Byronis or what else h
e’
s got in store. Why do you think I was prepared to let Curtis beat him up? Bottom line,we had to get to him before he got to us. At least now h
e’
s running scared, but for how long?'
Against my better judgement, I still felt the urge to defend Byron.
‘
He's not a monster,' I claimed.
'But he's certainly no angel.'
I sighed, felt torn. It wasn't the first time I'd tried to kid myself that people are nicer than they actually are. After all my attempts to justify Marshall Finch's outrageous actions, my sister had sworn I needed to have the word 'gullible' written across my forehead.
Leon took my hands.
'Do you trust me?' he said.
He had no idea how complicated that question was for me.
'I want to,' I whispered, collapsing into his chest, wetting his t-shirt with my tears.
'Do you remember when we went bowling
?’
he said.
Remember?
I’
d hardly put it out of my head.
‘
I had
n’
t noticed you before
,’
he said.
‘
I mean, I had
n’
t
known
you, and then, that evening, we ended up in next-door lanes and we got talking. You asked me which of my piercings hurt the most and I let you put your finger through the flesh plug in my earlobe and you squealed like it was really scary. And I thought you were sweet and smiley. And I noticed you had a different coloured nail polish on every finger, which made me think you were also quite cool
-
’
‘
I remember
,’
I said.
‘
And I thought
you
were a shiny football star, then I saw you had all these holes in your body, and I realised youwere pretty cool too
-
’
‘
So,why did it take us so long to talk to each other
?
’
‘
Because you had lots of other girlfriends
.
’
‘
And
you
had a boyfriend. Do
n’
t pin it all on me. You had a boyfriend that everyone was scared of. I mean, the whole town knew about him
-
’
I swallowed. Not now. I could
n’
t bear to think about all that now.
‘
Ex
-boyfriend
,’
I insisted.
‘
A hundred per cent ex. Everyone makes mistakes. But as for you,
I’
m not sure whether yo
u’
ve
still
got lots of girlfriends.
I’
ve been warned.
I’
ve heard rumours, and earlier, you said it yourself, you said your relationship status is
complicated
-
’
‘
It is
.
’
‘
I'm
done
with complicated
.
’
‘
I
t’
s complicated, but what I mean is, i
t’
s complicated because
I’
m supposed to be on my own, staying away from girls full-stop. I made a pact with my parents that I was going to spend the year focusing on schoolwork. They had a go at me at the end of the summer. The
y’
d heard rumours too, about me reckoning I was some kind of playboy, cheating on their frien
d’
s daughters and stuff. They were livid. So was my brother. And if ther
e’
s one thing I hate, i
t’
s my brother being mad at me. He has this way of making me feel
really
guilty. When I thought about it though, I realised he was right. I was an arrogant cock. I messed up big time, hurt lots of people. But I promise you Kate, tha
t’
s not what
I’
m about anymore.
I’
ve sorted myself out. No more playing around
.
’
He stroked my cheek. I could see he looked pained and ashamed by his admission, but I actually felt better. My doubts began to dissolve. I got it, I understood. H
e’
d made mistakes, but h
e’
d learned. Better than that, h
e’
d
changed
.
‘
Thank you
,’
I said, squeezing his hand.
‘
For what
?
’
‘
For being honest, for being straight with me
-
’
‘
Really
?
’
He rubbed his eyes. For the first time in ages, his pupils twinkled again.
‘
It does
n’
t put you off, my player past? Half the girls in our year think
I’
m a cheating bandit, but yo
u’
re still willing to give me a chance
?
’
‘
Everyone deserves a chance
,’
I said.
‘
I do
n’
t think your mate Gemma was ever too impressed with me
-
’
As he said her name we both tensed. I tried to smile through it.
‘I’
m sure sh
e’
ll understand if I explain...when I see her, I mean
-’
A tear leaked from my eye. Leon kissed it away.
‘
And you will see her
,’
he said.
Then he kissed me on the lips. It was the sweetest, softest, loveliest kiss - a sparkling diamond within the rough.
‘
So,tha
t’
s settled,then
,’
he whispered, his mouth still hovering against mine.
‘
When we get out of here, you and me, w
e’
ll make it official
?
’
‘
What about your pact to stay away from girls
?
’
He drew back and smiled.
‘
It may have escaped your notice, but the last few hours of our lives have been pretty full on. I guess you could say my perspective has shifted. I mean, wha
t’
s the phrase?
Carpe die
m
…
seize the day
!
’
He pulled me towards him, kissed me again.