The Art of Being Normal (17 page)

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Authors: Lisa Williamson

BOOK: The Art of Being Normal
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30

When I get home Tia is sitting cross-legged on the floor with Amber sitting on the settee behind her, her forehead creased with concentration as she tries to force Tia’s wispy hair into a French plait. When she sees me enter the room, she raises a single eyebrow.

‘What was that all about then?’ she asks.

‘None of your beeswax,’ I mutter.

‘Leo doesn’t want to talk. What a surprise,’ she says to no one in particular.

I ignore her, slumping down on the settee beside her, exhausted.

She secures the bottom of Tia’s plait with a hair bobble and taps her on the shoulder.

‘All done, T.’

Tia beams up at her before crawling over to retrieve the remote control from under the coffee table.

‘Where’s Mam?’ I ask.

‘Down the pub with Spike. They’re celebrating.’

‘Celebrating? Celebrating what?’ I asked.

‘Spike moving in.’

‘Didn’t he already do that?’

‘Not officially, apparently.’

I pick up an old copy of the
Sun
from the arm of the settee and pretend to read it. The whole time I can feel Amber watching me.

‘Your whole life can’t be one massive secret, Leo,’ she says.

‘Why not?’ I reply, continuing to scan the printed words, but taking none of them in.

‘Because you’re never going to enjoy any of it otherwise. You’ll be too busy looking over your shoulder all the time, forever worried people are going to find out. It’s no way to live.’

‘So what do you expect me to do?’ I ask, lowering the paper. ‘Because telling the truth hasn’t worked out too well for me so far.’

‘I don’t know, Leo, but you could start by telling me why I’ve been calling in sick for you all week.’

I toss the paper aside and stand up.

‘I’m going out.’

‘But you’ve only just come in.’

‘Yeah, well I’m not in the mood for company somehow.’

I let the front door slam hard behind me.

 

I spend Friday and Saturday on the settee watching DVDs with Tia. Anything that means I don’t have to think. Because thinking means making decisions. And making decisions suggests you have choices. And right now choices are something I do not have. I made sure of that when I got in too deep with Alicia.

We’re about halfway through
The Lion King
when my phone beeps. I leap on it, thinking, hoping it might be Alicia, but it’s David.

I spoke to A. Everything’s going to be OK. She’s not going to tell! Dx

I spoke to A? What is he talking about? Then I realise. A equals Alicia.

I text back, my fingers moving fast over the keys.

Wot u mean? Wot u say 2 her?

A few seconds later David’s reply comes through.

I asked her if she’d told anyone and she said no. She’s not planning to either. Good news!!! Dx

I slam my fists down on the settee, stirring Tia from her Disney trance and making her jump. How dare David go sticking his nose into my business, talking to Alicia like that. What if someone overheard him?

‘You OK, Leo?’ Tia asks, her eyes wide and frightened.

‘Yeah, T, fine. Sorry I scared you,’ I mutter absent-mindedly.

My phone beeps again.

Are you still there? Aren’t you pleased? She isn’t going to tell! It can all stay a secret after all! Dx

He must really think it’s that simple. Maybe telling him was a total mistake.

I check my mobile credit. I’m almost out. I take the landline phone from its cradle and lift it to my ear, relieved to hear a dial
tone. Mam has remembered to pay the bill at least. I take it into the hallway, shutting the living room door behind me with a click, and dial David’s number.

‘Hello?’ he answers eagerly.

‘It’s Leo,’ I say gruffly, settling onto the second stair.

‘Oh hey, Leo! Is this your landline or something?’

‘What the hell did you think you were doing?’ I growl. ‘Talking to Alicia like that?’

‘What do you mean?’ he asks, his voice small and wounded.

‘You had no right to do that, David, no right at all.’

On the other side of the door I can hear Tia singing along to ‘Hakuna Matata’, doing all the different voices. I put my hand over my free ear and turn towards the wall in an attempt to block it out.

‘But it’s OK, she isn’t going to tell anyone. She promised,’ David says. ‘I thought you’d be pleased.’

I let out a low groan. ‘Just tell me what she said.’

‘When I asked her, she said she hadn’t told anyone and had no plans to.’

‘That’s it?’

‘We didn’t have much time. I practically had to stalk her to get her alone in the first place. Ruby and Becky have barely left her side all week.’

I breathe out. So Alicia isn’t going to talk. But I don’t feel relief, not even close.

‘Leo?’ David says. ‘You still there?’

‘Yeah.’

‘I thought you’d be glad.’

‘It’s because she’s ashamed,’ I say flatly. ‘That’s the only reason she’s gonna keep it secret.’

‘You don’t know that,’ David begins.

I cut him off. ‘Yes I do,’ I say firmly.

There’s a pause. I can hear Phil barking in the background.

‘I’m sorry I went behind your back,’ David says quietly.

‘Look, I’m sorry I snapped at you, all right,’ I say with a sigh. ‘I just don’t like people sticking their noses in my business.’

‘I was just trying to help.’

‘I know, I know. I just …’ I let my voice trail off.

I don’t know what to think. The only thing I’m certain of is that Alicia hates me. The fact she isn’t planning to tell doesn’t change that.

‘Are you going to come back to school then?’ David asks, his voice hopeful.

‘Eh?’

‘School? You’ve got to come back at some point.’

I rake my hands through my hair and try to visualise walking in through the school gates, eating lunch in the canteen. Sitting behind Alicia in English. The first two I can just about handle. The third …

‘You have your mocks soon, don’t you?’ David adds. ‘And sixth form college applications to fill out? You can’t miss all that, Leo, you know you can’t.’

I hate him for being right. Doing well in my exams is my ticket out of Cloverdale. If I do well, I can do ‘A’ levels at the big anonymous college in the city, then go to university somewhere far, far away – Scotland or Cornwall or somewhere, maybe even abroad, start again fresh. But none of that is possible without GCSEs under my belt. And for that I have to go back to Eden Park School.

I have to face Alicia.

I let out a sigh. David leaps on it.

‘Does that mean I’ll see you at school on Monday?’ he asks.

‘I dunno. Maybe. Look, I have to go.’

I hang up, rest the back of my head against the wall and close my eyes.

In the living room, Tia is still singing.

31

On Monday morning I wait for Leo at the bus stop outside school. Opposite me, two coaches are parked outside the gates, their engines gently humming, the drivers of each standing on the pavement, chatting and smoking cigarettes. There must be a trip somewhere today.

I check the time on my mobile. The number fourteen is late. In the distance the first bell rings. I watch as the playground gradually empties. I can just make out Essie and Felix in the distance, Essie’s newly dyed red hair practically glowing.

I rise up on my tiptoes and peer down the road looking for Leo’s bus, enjoying the wintry sunshine on my face and brilliant blue sky above me. The morning feels fresh, full of optimism, and I can’t help but feel hopeful on Leo’s behalf that things are going to be OK after all.

My mind is still buzzing with everything he told me last week, in fact I’ve barely thought of anything else. I’m so full
of questions I might burst, but I sense Leo will take some warming up before he’s prepared to answer them all.

Finally the bus rumbles into view. I can’t see Leo among the alighting passengers and for a moment I fear he’s not coming back to school today after all, but then I spot him sloping down the stairs, the last person to get off. He looks tired. His hair is matted, like he’s just tumbled out of bed, and he has dark circles that almost resemble bruises, purple and painful-looking, beneath his eyes. When he sees me he frowns.

‘What you doing here?’ he asks, shifting his backpack from one shoulder to the other.

‘I just thought you might appreciate some moral support,’ I say brightly.

‘I do all right on my own, thanks,’ he mutters, squinting in the sun, using his hand as a shield.

‘I know you do,’ I say. ‘I just wanted to see you, and say hey.’

‘Well, hey,’ he replies, rolling his eyes.

In the distance the second bell is ringing.

He sighs. ‘Come on then.’

We cross the road and go through the gates, making our way across the deserted playground.

‘How was the rest of your weekend?’ I ask.

‘All right,’ Leo mutters.

He doesn’t return the question.

I sneak a sideways glance at him. Although he looks absolutely knackered, it suits him. It makes him look edgy, dangerous almost. It’s a look I couldn’t carry off in a million years.

He pushes open the main door and there’s an awkward moment when I realise he’s holding it open for me, playing the gentleman.

‘You coming in or what?’ he asks as I hesitate.

‘Of course,’ I say, ducking under his arm.

Leo takes an immediate left, towards the Year 11 form rooms.

‘If you need me today, for anything, just ring me,’ I call after him.

He shakes his head slightly and keeps walking.

I arrive at my form room just as everyone else is leaving. Harry pushes past me, crushing me against the door frame. When Mr Collins sees me he frowns and makes a big show of making a black late mark next to my name on the register. I mouth my apology and head straight to biology.

When I arrive Essie and Felix are already there, sitting side by side at our usual bench, their heads bowed together.

‘Hey,’ I say, dragging up a stool.

‘David, we’ve been looking for you!’ Essie says, sitting up straight. ‘Where were you this morning?’

‘Stuff to do,’ I say, pulling my bag into my lap and taking out my pencil case.

It feels weird not elaborating further, but I feel safer saying absolutely nothing. After all, Leo’s secret is not mine to share.

‘Does that mean you haven’t heard?’ Felix asks.

‘Heard what?’

The two of them exchange wide-eyed looks.

‘About Leo,’ Essie says.

‘What are you talking about?’ I ask, not in the mood for her guessing games.

‘Wait, you seriously don’t know?’ Felix says.

I glance around me. The entire class is animated, their loud chatter punctuated with occasional gasps or squeals of laughter. I turn back to Essie and Felix.

‘What exactly is going on?’

‘Look,’ Felix says, clearing his throat, ‘it appears Leo Denton isn’t quite who he says he is.’

‘What do you mean?’ I ask, putting my hand on the bench to steady myself.

‘Becky Somerville tracked down a kid from Cloverdale School on Facebook,’ Essie says. ‘A cousin of a cousin or something, and they told Becky exactly why Leo left.’

I swallow. I don’t need Essie to say anything else.

‘There he is!’ Lexi shouts, pointing out of the windows that line the opposite side of the room.

Half of the class sprint over to join her.

‘Don’t you mean, there
she
is?’ Tom quips to a chorus of cruel laughter.

I join the scrum, pushing my way to the front. Beside me, my classmates’ noses are practically pressed against the glass, their faces glowing with excitement and scandal.

Below us, oblivious to his gaping audience, Leo is making his way across the playground, heading towards the two coaches I spotted earlier.

Dr Spiers enters the room, barking at us to come away from the window and sit down. Reluctantly, we peel away and return to our benches.

I sit down on my stool, trembling. I pull out my mobile phone. Maybe if I’m quick enough I can warn him. I’ve halfway through composing my text when Dr Spiers’ hand slams down on the desk, centimetres from my hand.

‘Give it here.’

‘But, sir, it’s an emergency.’

‘No texting in class. No excuses. Now hand it over.’

‘Please, sir,’ I begin to beg.

‘Give me the phone Mr Piper,’ Dr Spiers says in a bored voice, his arm out-stretched. ‘Before I lose my temper.’

With my little finger, I manage to press send on the incomplete text before placing it in Dr Spiers’ open palm. I watch as he locks it in his desk drawer.

‘You can collect it after school,’ he says.

I know it is useless to even try to argue with him.

As Dr Spiers starts the lesson, I close my eyes and find myself doing something I haven’t done since I was a little kid and really wanted a Barbie Dream House for my birthday.

I pray.

I pray for Leo.

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