The Weight of Souls (4 page)

Dad gaped as if I’d punched him in the chest. “How could you think that?” He rolled towards me swiftly, dropping Mum’s photo in his lap so that he could grab my hand. “I love you.”

“But you’re trying to change me, just like you tried to change her. You’d love me more if I was normal.”

He shook his head and his fingers gripped mine more tightly. “I couldn’t love you more. I couldn’t have loved your mum more.” He was actually crying.

My eyes widened and I felt cold all over. I’d made Dad cry. He hadn’t even cried at the funeral.

“I can’t believe you’d think that. That I’ve made you think that.”

I couldn’t stop myself, even seeing his tears I couldn’t choke the words away. “Then why try to force her to a doctor if you loved her so much? If you love me.
”
 

“It was an illness, Taylor. You don’t love someone less because they aren’t well.” His chest heaved. “You try to help them.” He realised he was crushing my hand and released his grip. I rubbed the life back into my fingers without looking away from his face.

“I wanted her to go to a doctor, because I thought if we found some drugs that helped her, then you wouldn’t have to suffer at all, you could go on the same prescription from the very beginning.”

“But she wouldn’t go.”

Dad half-smiled. “She was so stubborn – like somebody else I know.” He groaned and rubbed his hand through his hair. “It upset me, her refusal. I couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t want to help you, especially when you got sick too.”

“If you’re so sure I’m crazy, why don’t you send me away? Get me locked up and cured like you wanted to do to her.”

He looked at his wasted legs where they lay unmoving on the chair. He swallowed.

“Dad?”

“It was her last wish.” He heaved a sobbing breath. “The last thing she said to me as we lay trapped in that wreck was
, ‘
Don’t send Taylor away’. I’d made her worry about it so much that she used her last breath to get that assurance. Not to tell me she loved us, but to make me swear. And that’s why I have to work so hard to find a cure myself, because I had to make that promise.”

I was crying myself now, silent howls that hurt my chest. I had to make this stop. I blinked furiously to hold back the tears and thrust out my arm. “Just do it.”

Dad gaped owlishly at my bare wrist then hung his head to stare once more at my mother’s picture. “Maybe we should do this in the morning.”

I pulled my sleeve back down and backed out of the room, glancing once more at
The Tale of Oh-Fa
as I left. What I wouldn’t give for Dad to be right, for there to be a cure.

But Mum had always said it when she fought with Dad – you can’t cure a curse.

 

4

 

CRASH AND BURN

 

Hannah’s hair was orange today. It bobbed opposite me like a neon dandelion. I was focusing my blurring eyes on the way the sun glowed off the fluffy ends, mainly because last night's hunt had stopped me from revising for yet another test.

Hannah glanced up at me with her
X-Files
pen in her mouth. She narrowed her eyes in concern when she saw my lack of activity.

I shrugged helplessly and watched her agonise, trying to work out a way to get her answers over to me. I shook my head, telling her not to worry. She cut her eyes to the clock, to the teacher and back to my empty page. Her hand twitched as if she was going to slide hers across. I shook my head more vigorously and Miss Carroll’s whipped up.

“Heads down,” she snapped.

Hannah’s head plunged as if she’d been dunked. I ducked more slowly and as I turned my eyes back to the set of unanswerable questions I caught sight of Justin to my right. He was failing to hide his amusement at my obvious crash and burn. I noted with grim dismay that his sheet was filled with cramped handwriting.

Surreptitiously I looked around the room. Pete was frowning over his work, his dark eyes flicking from the questions to the page with the intense focus that was such a part of everything he did. James was next to him, glaring at the question paper as if it had offended him. I straightened a little. Maybe I wasn’t the only one due for a fail this week. Then he stabbed his pencil on the paper and started to write, pushing so hard I could hear the scratching of his answers over the rustling and quiet sighs that otherwise filled the air.

I sighed. Maybe I could attempt question five. Maybe. I picked up my pencil just as the bell rang.

Figures
.

 

“What happened? You were fine with this stuff when we did it in class.” Hannah looked tragic.

“It’s OK, Han, I just forgot to revise.” I avoided her eyes and packed up my bag.

“But you didn’t answer
anything
.”

I shrugged. “My mind went blank.”

“Like it’s ever been anything else,” Tamsin sneered as she elbowed past. “But then I suppose you’ve got your career mapped out already. You’ll be working at the takeaway, bagging the prawn crackers. Don’t need good grades for that.” She tossed her hair and shouldered Hannah aside, knocking my bag onto the floor in the process. Books and pens flew and I grabbed for it quickly, but not quickly enough. The box of Lillets I carried burst and sellophaned cotton sticks rolled around the floor, slippery as crayons. One rolled to a halt in front of Justin and I burned crimson as he nudged it with his toe, eyebrows climbing into his hairline.

“What’s the matter, Hargreaves, never seen a tampon before?” I snapped. But it was hard to seem unconcerned while scrabbling on the floor to pick them up. Hannah bent to help me, swiping them into the box, but they wouldn’t go in any which way and we had to spend time organising them as the back of my neck set on fire.

“Maybe your
girlfriend
doesn’t need them yet.” I spoke to Justin, but glared at Tamsin.

She shook her head at me coolly. “Some of us don’t share these things with everyone.” She hoisted her bag higher on her shoulder. “
Some
of us have class.” She flicked her hair again and posed, waiting for Justin to take her arm. He actually stepped over me to get to her.

Pete was behind him as always. Shame and disgust warred on his face as he edged by. Hannah didn’t even raise her head and my heart hurt as I realised she wasn’t even trying with him any more. There was a time when the two of them had been close, but that hadn’t been true for a while.

I hunched my shoulders over the last of the offending items and shoved the box back in my bag, making sure to put them in the zipped compartment.

Finally I stood and came face to face with James.

He stood far too close, crowding my space. He was so tall my nose was inches from his collar bone and I could smell his stale deodorant, which had obviously been over-taxed by the test. I was forced to look up at him.

Once he saw me raise my eyes, his mouth curved into a cool smile and my chest tightened. That smile had nothing friendly in it whatsoever. My forearms prickled as goosebumps pebbled the skin. Automatically I tried to step back, but the table was in the way.

“Come on, James.” It was Pete. He was leaning on the doorjamb. He deliberately avoided looking at me, but I just knew he was finally staging a rescue.

I couldn’t take it
.
Not from him
.

My spine straightened, even as the splinters on the edge of the table pricked my thighs. “Yes, go on, Jimbo, Daddy’s waiting.”

My words made James’ lip twitch and he leaned further forward. Some part of me expected him to reveal fangs. The classroom faded away until there was only James with his huge body and stinking breath.

Then I heard Hannah squeak and Miss Carroll’s voice brought the room back into being. “Don’t you have another class to go to?”

I swallowed as James waited an insolent few seconds then stepped back. “Yes, Miss, on my way.”

Hannah grabbed my arm. Her shirt shivered with the thumping of her heart. “Are you alright?” she whispered.

“Of course.” I squeezed her elbow. “He’s a Neanderthal, you know that. Does whatever Justin wants.”

And that was the problem wasn’t it? Because Justin Hargreaves said so, I was fair game and no one had the guts to do anything about it.

 

It hadn’t always been this way. I’d once been part of a trio: Pete, Hannah and myself. All three of us were just a little bit different
.
Pete was the only black guy in the year, I was the only oriental and then there was Hannah. She was a pale
-
skinned Scot who wanted to be Willow from
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
. Her hair changed its hue two or three times a term in line with her mum’s boyfriends. We weren’t in any of the popular cliques, but we weren’t at the bottom of the pecking order either. We hovered somewhere in the middle, nobody bothered about us. We were just normal. And then… we weren’t. Or at least, I wasn’t.

I glanced out of the window, remembering. The clown had stood right
there
on the day my life had changed. The balloons that no other child could see had tangled just there, around the netball posts. I still heard the
flap-slap
of his shoes in my nightmares. I clenched my fist around the ghost of my first ever Mark, the one the dead joker had left when he had touched me. I had thought it was just black greasepaint until I realised that there was no washing it off. The clown had been the ghost to start it all.

Rage threatened to boil and I pushed the memory down, “parked it” as the counsellor I saw after the accident was fond of saying. I visualised the garage, the space where the images would sit waiting for their next outing.

Then I walked with Hannah out of the classroom.

 

“I don’t want to do this. Can’t you pick something else?”

The whine came from the common room. I tightened my grip on Hannah’s arm. “We shouldn’t get involved.”

“I know. Heads down.” Hannah dropped her eyes and we walked forward, prepared to ignore whatever was happening.

The group was clustered around a plastic table.
What a surprise
…
Justin, Tamsin, James and Harley. Only Pete was missing.

Justin leaned nonchalantly against the table in the centre of the room. The rest of them had a boy from the year below pinned against a chairback. The kid looked terrified.

“You wanted in.” James jabbed him in the chest with a stiffened finger and I saw red.

“Taylor,” Hannah squeaked and tried to grab me, but I was already moving. I shoved my bag back at her.

“Leave him alone, you penis extension.”

Tamsin turned, already laughing. “
You
want
us
to leave him alone?” She stroked a red nail across the boy’s cheek and I shuddered. “What do you want us to do, Alan? You want us to leave you alone?”

“I-I…” The boy’s collar moved with the bobbing of his Adam’s apple.

“You know what’ll happen, Alan.” James leaned in, menacing.

“He’s younger than you. Have some self-respect!” I clenched my fists.

Tamsin took a slow pace towards me. “You want to take his place, Godzilla?”

“Hey, no!” Alan grabbed her arm. “I’m in, I told you. I’ll do it, whatever you want.” He avoided my eyes. “She’s not taking my place.”

“That’s nice of you kid, but–”

“Go away, alright? Just go away.” Red spots decorated Alan’s cheeks as if he’d been slapped. Around the redness he was pale and scared.

“I can tell a teacher,” I murmured.

He shook his head violently. “I’m OK, don’t do anything.”

I raised my eyebrows. “You want these arseholes to harass you? Fine.” I spun on my heel and saw Justin’s supercilious grin. “You are such a tool,” I snapped at him.

Hannah was right behind me, ready to back me up like always. I grabbed my bag from her clenched fists, swung it over my shoulder and stalked towards the corridor. “Come on, Hannah, we’re late for science.”

Behind me I heard a sound like a growl. It was almost inhuman. I stopped and turned. Once more James was glowering at me, head lowered so his eyes were shadowed by his jutting brow. “Neanderthal,” I muttered, but I increased my pace.

 

“That class sucked.” Hannah shoved her hair out of her eyes and shuddered. She was sweating through her shirt. “I hate physics. I loathe it. Seriously, how can you stand it?”

I snorted while I quickly checked the courtyard for anyone out of place.

“Honestly, I thought my brain was going to explode.” Hannah pressed her hands on either side of her head, little orange tufts of hair sticking out between her fingers. “I have a headache. I need to go to the office.”

“You mean because it’s a double lesson and we’ve got it again after lunch?”

“I’d forgotten. I’ll die. I’ll literally drop dead from an aneurysm.”

I burst out laughing. She looked so wretched. Hannah in drama mode was always funny. Not that she saw it that way.

“Come on, Han,” I sighed. “If it makes you feel better I’m going to fail that class too.”

“Stop laughing, you cow
.
It doesn’t make me feel better. You and exams are a disaster. You break my heart. I’m going to get drugs, lots of drugs.”

“Good luck with that.” I shoved her gently in the direction of the office. “I’ll see you later. Usual spot?”

Hannah nodded carefully as if she really was worried that a sudden movement would topple her head from her shoulders. I watched her totter away, smiled and swung my bag higher on my shoulder. The sun was trying to burn through the clouds; I’d eat outside and get in our “spot” early. Way better than running the gauntlet of the common room and eating alone in a room full of cliques.

 

I was sitting with my legs in the weak sunshine, enjoying the feel of the rays on my shins. My sandwich had gone soggy in my lunchbox, but I was picking the filling out and eating it between crisps. The wall of the art room was warming my back and I had a clear view of the courtyard. Hannah wasn’t keeping me company, but my hands were clean of dead men’s Marks, there was no sign of anything out of the ordinary and I was feeling relatively alright with the world.