Selling the Drama (11 page)

Toby looked at her, the water obscuring his
vision, but not so much that he couldn't see how angry she was, her
cheeks now flushed pink, her hands perched up on her hips. He only
knew Damian in the most casual of terms. He was someone who hung
around a few different groups but he had always been friendly
enough and Toby had passed more than a few lunch times in his
company. He did trash talk a lot of girls, but Toby had generally
ignored that part of his dialogue and had never really taken much
notice of the things he said on that score. Lots of the guys' trash
talked from time to time, it was just the way it was. Knowing this
about him, even knowing what he had done to Charlotte and Ellie,
didn't make Toby feel any better about his own actions. He had
still had completely no control over the situation and the
realisation of this was terrifying. Whether Damian had deserved a
beating or not, Toby would have far preferred to not be the one who
had given it to him. He turned his head to the side, closing his
eyes wearily, wishing so badly that she would just go.

Instead, she leaned into the shower and
grabbed a hold of his face, forcing him to look at her. The water
hit her head, soaking her hair and shoulders. "You are not your
father. You will never be your father. You are a good, honourable
person, and this does nothing to change that. You're not him.
You're not him, Toby, you are not him." She released his face and
stepped back, picking up a towel to rub herself dry with before
grabbing his clothes back up off the floor and exiting the
bathroom. The depth at which she understood his despair was
profound, so much so, he couldn't help but be a little awestruck by
her. Once again.

Charlotte put Toby's clothes into a bucket
to soak before calling her mother at work. Iris was never easy to
get a hold of during the day, she worked in a nursing home and was
not always near a phone. Charlotte was on hold for some time before
her mother finally came onto the line.

"What's wrong, Charlotte? Are you sick?" Her
voice sounded breathless.

"No, I'm fine. I just thought you needed to
know that Toby and I have come home from school. In case they ring
you. Toby got into a fight this morning before school started and
he needed to clean himself up. He's really upset, Mum. He can't go
back to school and I don't want to leave him by himself."

Iris was silent for a few moments. "Is he in
a lot of trouble? Will we need to come in to the school?"

"No. It wasn't in the school grounds."

"Well, that's one thing I suppose, but what
about the other boy? His parents might complain." Iris sighed
deeply. "We'll have to just wait and see if that happens. Alright,
you can stay at home, I'll give the school a quick ring. Is he
hurt?"

Charlotte exhaled with relief. She had not
been entirely sure her mother wouldn't insist on at least her
returning to school. "No. He's not hurt at all but like I said
before, he's very upset. He thinks this makes him like his
father."

Iris sighed once more, and Charlotte could
picture her pinching herself between the eyebrows, the way she
always did when something frustrated or overwhelmed her. Charlotte
wondered which emotion was winning out at the moment. "Oh dear,
that's not very good. We'll have to handle this one carefully. Poor
boy."

Overwhelmed then. "I tried to reassure him
that it doesn't make him like that at all. And it doesn't. This was
entirely different. Boys fight all the time. He's just never been
like that."

"No, not surprising really. He's had more
than enough violence in his life without creating more of it
himself. Well, I don't really know what to do here, Charlotte. I'll
have to have a think. Just keep reassuring him, I suppose. That's
probably all we can do. Did you cause this fight?"

Charlotte felt her cheeks heat. "What? Why
would you ask that?" She was glad her mother couldn't see her
discomfort at the question.

"Because Toby is a very calm boy and all of
a sudden he's gone and gotten into a fight, just at the same time
you and he have started this little romance; it seems a bit
suspicious."

Charlotte clenched her free hand into a
fist, so frustrated by her mother. Little romance, indeed! And
jumping straight to the conclusion that it was all her fault, so
typical. Made all the worse of course because she was right!
Charlotte had no intention of giving her mother the satisfaction of
knowing it though. "You're way off the mark. I'll let you go,
you're probably really busy."

"Yes, I am. See you later." She hung up
without waiting for a farewell from Charlotte.

That suited Charlotte just fine. She put the
handset back onto the receiver and was just going to head up to the
kitchen for a drink when there was short knock at the door. Opening
it, she was surprised to see Jake there. "Why aren't you at
school?"

"I ditched PE. I'll head back in a few. Toby
alright?"

Charlotte leaned against the doorframe.
"Yeah, he just needed to clean himself up and calm down a bit."

"He seemed pretty upset, vomiting like that,
shaking away like nothing else."

Charlotte eyed him cautiously. "He isn't a
fighter. He was worried he'd gone a bit overboard and hurt Damian
more than he meant to. It was an adrenaline thing, you know, like
when you ran that cross country last year flat out and won only to
puke your guts up over the finish line."

Jake laughed at the memory. "Yeah, thanks
for the reminder. My finest moment. Made all the richer by puking
on Ellie's shoes. Fair enough, I get that."

Charlotte grinned at the memory. Jake's
mortification had only slightly eclipsed Ellie's. "You should just
get over yourself and ask her out."

He shook his head, suddenly looking
sheepish. "Nah. She'll say no. She's too pretty for me."

"That's about the dumbest thing I've heard
in my life. You're a nice guy. You always have been."

Jake looked down for a moment, studying the
doormat intently. "Not always, Charlotte. What Damian said today,
it's not much different to the sort of things I've said about you
before. I've just picked my time and place better. And I've never
said it to one of your boyfriends." He glanced up then, looking
contrite. "At least, not while he was your boyfriend, anyway."

"I've never had any boyfriends for you to
say it in front of." She shrugged. "Whatever. Look, ask her out.
She's not like what I was, in the past. She really isn't. No matter
what Damian has said about her, it's not true in her case and I
know he's spread shit about her, but he's a liar."

Jake nodded at that. "Yeah, I know he is.
That's one of the reasons why we let him get a pounding for so long
this morning. I probably would have let it go for longer but when I
saw him try and bite Toby I thought, whoa, no way. He'd end up with
some gross infection and need to have his arm taken off or
something. Anyway," Jake shrugged, sending Charlotte a half smile.
"I told Toby I'd follow up on it and I did. There's nothing really
wrong with Damian except for bruises, a couple of cuts, and a split
lip. He's fine. And he's not saying anything because he's too
embarrassed at having had his arse kicked to the curb in front of
all those girls." Jake laughed at that, but Charlotte could only
muster up a small smile. "Well," he continued, "I gotta go, can't
cut Science. That would be really pushing it. I'll see you
tomorrow, yeah?"

Charlotte nodded. "Yeah. Thanks, Jake, for
checking in and having Toby's back."

"No worries. Toby's a good guy. He's a mate.
I'll always have his back over someone like Damian. No
question."

"Ask her out, Jake," Charlotte persisted.
"Today. I mean it. You came off as a bit of a secondary hero this
morning, throwing yourself between them. She'll think it's a turn
on and totally say yes. It's perfect timing."

Jake looked at her with a crooked grin, his
head leaning to one side. "Are you just shitting me for a
laugh?"

Charlotte shook her head. "Absolutely not! I
mean it. Don't be a loser, trust me."

He shrugged and turned away from her,
heading down the front steps. "I know where you live if this all
goes wrong," he called over his shoulder.

"It won't!" She shut the door as he left the
yard and resumed her trek up to the kitchen, finding Toby there at
the table, picking at a sandwich, wearing only a pair of loose
shorts. "Hey," she said to him as she entered the room. He didn't
look up at her. "That was Jake at the door."

"Yeah. I heard."

"Why didn't you come up?" She pulled out a
chair beside him, plonking down onto it sideways so she could face
him.

"I didn't feel like it. But I heard what you
were both talking about, so there's no need for a recap. I'll talk
to him later. Thanks though, for the cover story. I appreciate your
quick thinking." He kept eating his sandwich, not looking in her
direction at all.

Charlotte sat, watching him, the silence
stretching between them. "Look at me."

He gestured to his sandwich. "I'm
eating."

She reached out and snatched the sandwich
out of his hand. He turned to her then, a look of annoyance
crossing his face. "At last, eye connection."

"Charlotte, give me back my food."

"In a minute. Are you alright?"

"No. I'm hungry. I puked my guts up and then
some an hour ago. I need food."

"That's not what I'm talking about."

He looked at her, sighing with frustration
after a few moments. "I don't know. Just give me the sandwich.
Please."

She handed it back to him, satisfied for the
time being with his response. I don't know seemed far more
realistic than yes, so that was something, she supposed. She got up
so she could get herself the drink she had been wanting before
Jake's visit. He spoke to her as she was leaning into the fridge,
rummaging for a carton of juice concentrate to make up into a
jug.

"Did you tell anyone about what Damian did
to you last year?"

She paused, still leaning into the fridge.
Toby's tone was quietly angry, giving her pause to consider the
wisdom of having told him about Damian's assault on her. At the
time, she had been appalled, and embarrassed, and completely aware
of what anyone would have said if she had told on him. She had it
coming, she was a slut anyway, and she probably enjoyed it -
comments such as those, and a whole host more. Truth be told,
Damian had frightened her that night, that was why she had turned
him down. There had been a menacing manner about his advances that
had given her cause for concern. She had thought to herself, while
he was leering at her and attempting to touch her up, that he might
actually hurt her, deliberately, because it would add to the
enjoyment for him. Panic had set in then and she had tried to get
away from him, his resultant reaction a confirmation of her fears.
She just wished she had told Ellie. Then she might have saved her
from the hurt he had inflicted upon her. It was only when Ellie
appeared on her doorstep, sobbing and bleeding, that Charlotte
realised her error in keeping it to herself. Both of them had
spread the word since, quietly warning other girls to steer clear
of him. She thought he knew they had been doing that. He looked at
them both with hate in his gaze and never failed to hiss 'sluts' at
every available opportunity, to have a dig at either of them
whenever he could, just like this morning. Charlotte wondered if he
would be a bit smarter in the future, but she wouldn't go holding
her breath. He didn't entice that sort of confidence.

She straightened up, the juice in hand,
shutting the fridge and crossing to the sink. "No. I didn't tell
anyone. Later, after he hurt Ellie, I told her and we both started
telling other girls, to warn them. That's why he hates us both. He
knows we've spread it around. We aren't the only one's he's been
pushy with. I think some of the guy's know what he's really like,
but they don't want to get involved. But it's also why they let him
get beaten today. That's why no one stepped in until they thought
you were actually going to get hurt. No one likes him all that
much, not really."

Toby stood up and crossed to the sink,
leaning heavily against her, his arms trapping her in place. Taking
hold of her chin, he turned her face to his, looking deeply into
her eyes. "It is not okay for a guy to do those things to a girl.
You both should have reported him. Don't you ever, ever let another
guy hurt you and get away with it. It's not okay. Not ever."

Charlotte nodded, a little daunted by his
intensity.

"I'm not kidding, Charlotte."

She nodded once again. "Okay."

"I don't like what happened today. What I
did. I need to be careful. With you. So I don't hurt you." His eyes
shone, a vulnerable sadness coming to the fore in his manner.

Charlotte fell into him, putting her hand
onto his hips and her forehead against his bare chest. "Toby, you
will never hurt me. Why would you even think something like
that?"

He sighed, deeply. "I don't know, Charlotte.
What scares me is the idea of waking up one day and being him. What
happened this morning is a step in that direction." He dropped his
face down to rest onto her shoulder, his arms slipping around her
waist, his breaths uneven beside her ear. "The minute you fear me,
run. And don't look back." Releasing her, he pushed himself away
from the sink, turning to head out of the kitchen.

Charlotte blinked rapidly, her heart beating
wildly, a tangle of thoughts churning inside of her mind, yet no
words were making themselves available to her. It was the saddest
thing she'd ever heard someone say; the raw expectation within his
voice, that inner burden of acceptance for who you were and where
you'd come from. There were no if, but's, or maybe's. Only a
when.