Existing (44 page)

I don’t say anything else because I know exactly what she’s talking about. Their house felt exactly like what a home should feel like. One that’s filled with family members that care about each other and love each other so much that the house is fit to burst with it.

Riley swings the door open and grins at me. “
G’day, mate!”

I frown
at him. “What the hell was that?”

“Me,” he says, “trying to speak your language.”

I push past him and plonk myself down on his sofa. “That was Australian.”

Riley frowns. “I swear I’ve heard you say that.”

I shake my head. “Nope.”

“Hang on,” he says, w
andering off into the kitchen. I hear him pulling drawers open and then he appears by my side with a notebook in his hand. I eye it warily.

“What’s that?” I ask.

Riley smirks. “We’ve been running a list on you for the past six months.”

“A list about what?”

“All the stupid shit that you say.”

This should be interesting. I know I forget myself sometimes, but I didn’t think that I
slipped up too often. “Alright,” I say, “hit me.”

“So, we started to write down all the words that you say that don’t make sense to us.
Basically, anything you say and we have to try and figure out what the hell you actually mean. Then we made bets on how many we’d get up to after six months.”

“That’s really sad,” I say. “Don’t any of you have anything better to do?”

He shakes his head. “Not really. So now I need translations.”

“Go on,” I encourage. I’m actually quite interested now.

“Okay,” he says. “Up the duff.”

“Pregnant,” I reply.

“Chuffed,” he says.

“Happy.”

“Bee’s knees?” he asks with raised eyebrows.

I stop and think for a moment. That doesn’t actually sound like something I would say. “Are you sure I said that?” I ask.

He nods. “Last November. You were talking to Will.”

I sigh. “It means you’re really good. Ace or awesome, I guess.”

“Why don’t you just say awesome? It’s shorter.”

I shrug.

“Okay, next,” he says, scanning the list. “Lost the plot.”

I roll my eyes. “That’s obvious, isn’t it?”

He shakes his head. “It’s on the list, so spill.”

“It means you’re crazy.”

He nods. “Wonky?”

I laugh. “Not right. Like if I moved your settee so it wasn’t in line with the rug, then it would be wonky.”

“Settee?”

“Sofa.”

He wrinkles his face up and makes a little note on his pad.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” I mumble.

“Just go with it, Cabe.”

“Fine,” I huff.

“Bangers.”

I look up at him.
“Bangers?”

He nods. “It was us
. We were talking about favourite foods and you said ‘Bangers and mash’. And what’s mash?’”

“Sausages
and mashed potato.”

“Sausages?” he repeats.

I nod.

“Okay,” he laughs, “what about meat and two veg?”

I laugh. “Who did I say that to?”

“Tom. Something about your meat and two veg had taken a battering.”

“Meat and two veg is your knob,” I tell him.

He frowns
again, looking confused. “Knob?”

“Dick,” I say, “penis, cock, nob, chopper, dong, cream stick, one-eyed trouser snake, prick,
tadger, willy, bell-end, or dobber. Take your pick.”

Riley throws his head back and laughs. Tears start to stream down his face as he wraps his arms around his stomach.

“Don’t be such an idiot,” I hiss. “I’m surprised you haven’t already looked those up on the internet.”

He sucks in a few deep breaths
, but I can still see his shoulders shaking. He throws the notepad onto the table and wipes his face. “I’ve had enough of that for now. I can see you’re getting pissed, but I might start calling my dick a dobber. It’s funny.”

“Good,” I huff. “I didn’t realise I was such a source of amusement to you all.”

He chuckles some more and flicks the telly on. “So, are you going to tell me why you’re around my house at midnight on a school night?”

I nod. “I need to talk.”

He switches the telly off and walks into the kitchen. “Do we need a beer?”

I shake my head. “We probably need whiskey.”

He reaches up to the top of the cupboards and grabs a bottle of whiskey and two shot glasses. “What’s going on, Cabe?”

I take a deep breath. “I think it’s time I told you some home truths.”

“Home truths?” he repeats, looking confused.

I shrug. “Secrets, I guess.”

He pours us each a glass of whiskey and hands one to me, plopping himself down heavily next to me. “I’m not really great at having deep and meaningful conversations, Cabe,” he confesses. “I’m not saying I don’t want to talk, but can you just spit it all out or something?”

I drain my glass of whiskey and hold it out to him while he refills it. “Okay,” I huff, taking another sip for
some Dutch courage. “I don’t really know where to start but here goes. My parents are dead.”

“What?!”
He shoots up from the sofa and starts pacing up and down the room. “When? How? What happened to them?”

I shake my head. “They died three years ago, Riley.”

He slumps back down onto the sofa, looking confused, and gulps down his drink. “Fuck, man. I thought you meant the ones you just went on vacation with.”

“No, they’re really my Aunty and Uncle.”

“Shit,” he breathes. “But you call them Mom and Dad, right?”

I nod.

“I just thought you were adopted or something because they’re not English. Although you do look a lot like your Uncle.”

“Yeah, he’s my Dad’s twin brother. My real parents and my older brother died in a car crash three years ago.”

Riley turns towards me. “I’m sorry, man.”

I nod.
I want to ask him why he’s never asked me about it if he thought I was adopted, but I need to keep going. “It’s okay. There’s more.”

“Hang on,” he says, refilling hi
s glass. He drains it in one gulp and then fills it again before nodding at me. “Okay, I’m ready.”

“I’ve never had sex.”
He spits his drink out all over me and the table. “Shit, Riley!”

He wipes his chin, but doesn’t make any effort to h
elp me out. “Sorry,” he laughs, “I didn’t mean to spit.”

I wipe my shirt
and huff.

“I knew you weren’t exactly a
player, but I just thought you still had the hots for some girl in England or something. Or that one of them had broken your heart. Shit,” he sighs, “you’re a fucking virgin.”

“Fucking virgin?” I repeat, raising my eyebrows at him.

He grins at me. “Yeah, how’s that for an oxymoron?”

I roll my eyes at him, but I’m trying not to smile. Telling Riley wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.

“Why?” he asks. “Why would you choose to not be balls deep in a girl? I’m massively confused right now.” He suddenly sits up, looking pleased with himself. “Is this where you tell me that you’re gay and that you’re in love with me?”

I shake my head and down
the remains of my drink. “Hell no. Even if I was gay, I wouldn’t fancy you. I know where you’ve been.”

“And what exactly is wrong with me? If the girls dig me, I’m willing to bet that the
guys would too,” he says.

“
You’re a manwhore,” I tell him. “Nobody wants a manwhore, Riley.”

“You think?” he
says with a smile. “Then tell me why I can screw a different girl each week?”

I shrug. “They just fancy you at first. They see the
popular soccer player, the guy with muscles and good looks, and then when they realise that you’re a bit of a player, they think they can try and change you.”

“You don’t get to sit there
and talk as if you’re an expert, Cabe Evans.”

“I’m not saying I
hate you because you can’t stop talking or having sex. I’m just trying to tell you that I’m not like you.”

“Yet,” he says.
“You’re only not like me because you haven’t experienced the pleasure yet.”

“That’s what I’ve come here to
talk to you about.”

Riley laughs. “Shit, your balls must be swinging
down by your ankles.”

I shake my head, but he’s really starting to make me laugh. He’s so stupid at times. “
I’m a guy, Riley. Just because I don’t actually have sex, it doesn’t mean I don’t think about it or find other ways to sort myself out.”

“So then wh
y haven’t you ever done it?” he asks, looking confused.

“
I’m not going to bore you with the reasons. But I guess what I’m trying to say is that I thought I would never have it and now I’m not so sure.”

He sips some more whiskey. “Rose?” he asks.

I nod. “I really like her. I’ve never been arsed about girls because I can’t be arsed with all the shit and hassle that goes with them, but I’m falling for her and I don’t want to make myself look like a twat.”

“You’re asking for my advice about sex?” he asks, the shock clear in his voice.

“I don’t know,” I shrug. “No. Not really. I’m pretty sure I can figure it all out myself. I mean I got past the kissing stage on my own, without asking you to draw me a diagram.” I grin at him. “It’s not like I don’t know what bits go where. I just wanted to tell you everything.”

“You hadn’t even kissed a girl before?”

I shake my head.

Riley whistles. “Fuck,” he huffs.
He takes a big deep breath and sighs, but I can tell he’s trying not to laugh at me. “Is that it?”

I shake my head. “No.
You remember when we were trying to figure out Rose’s bruises?”

He nods.

“It’s because someone beats her.”

“You’re sure?”

I nod. “Someone is abusing her. That’s what I fell out with her Dad about. I thought it was him.”

Riley coughs. “You actually said that to her Dad?”

I nod. “Pretty much, but I’m positive that it isn’t her Dad.”

“Okay, so what are we going to do about it?”

“I have a plan,” I say, “but we’re going to have to involve Charlotte and Ashley.”

His face crumples in confusion. “Why do we need them? What are you planning?”

“I don’t actually know yet. I guess I was just hoping we could all sit down and try to figure something out between us.”

He nods. “Okay. You can count me in.”

“Thanks,” I tell him.

He picks his drink up again and grins at me. “Can we go back to talking about girls now?”

The next morning I almost skip up the steps and into school. I smile at everyone that I walk past and high-five Ashley as he jogs past me toward the gym. Today is going to be a good day, I think to myself, as I head toward my locker. My heart has been fluttering like mad in my chest ever since I was in Cabe’s bedroom, and it’s making me feel as light as a feather.

“Good morning
, Sunshine.”

I giggle. “Good morning
, Charlotte.”

She leans against the locker and smiles. “Do you know what day it is today?”

“Yup,” I say. “Today is Tuesday.”

She grins at me. “It’s the fifth of June.”

I blink at her. “Should I know what that means?”

“Yeah,” she says
, closing my locker for me, “it means William and I have been dating for a month now.”

“Oh right,” I say
, wondering why that’s so special. “Well, um, congratulations.”

She jabs my arm with her finger. “Come with me.”

“What? Where to?” I ask, following her down the hallway. People not only nod and greet Charlotte as we walk, but they smile and acknowledge me too. I smile when I can and nod when I feel it’s necessary, but I’m still not sure if I like being this popular or not. Charlotte doesn’t stop to talk. In fact, I have to almost jog to keep up with her.

“Where are we going?”
I ask, confused.

“To the girl’s bathroom.”

“Why?”

Charlotte shakes her head and pushes through the wooden door into the bathroom
. She walks up past the stalls and pushes each door open to make sure it’s empty. When she’s satisfied that we’re alone, she leans back against the sinks and sighs.