Twisted Summer Page 14

The somebody battled tears; she whimpered and snarled at every object she threw into her suitcase.

  Esmé’s suitcase.

  Que?

  FUCK.

  I lunged to sit up, and a hard can of deodorant smacked right off my forehead mid-flight. Esmé winced as I yelped, but then the robotics took over again and she went back to packing.

  “My dad’s picking me up in a few hours,” she hissed.

  “Oh, Es. Don’t leave.” Because staying would make everything so comfortable…but what was I meant to say?

  “You really think anything you say can make up for what I saw last night? You think I want to be anywhere near you and him?”

  “I’m sorry.” My voice trembled. Tears stung as they welled in their ducts, as I rubbed the emerging lump on my head. “I never meant for any of this.”

  “Yeah. Looked like it.” Her makeup bag landed in the suitcase with a clatter.

  “Where’ve you been? I…I was worried.”

  “Bollocks, were you. And I was with Taylor. Turns out he’s good for something.”

  I glanced between dishevelled Esmé, and the door. “With him, with him?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” She sniffed. “Not all of us are just playing at being gay, Danni.”

  “That isn’t fair.”

  “Oh yeah. What was I thinking, offending your sweet, innocent sensibilities? The way I’m talking, anybody would think I saw you fucking your uncle!” she shrieked.

  “Jesus! Keep it down!”

  “Wouldn’t want anybody knowing that, would you?” She slammed the suitcase shut, panting as she locked the clasps. “Your filthy. Little. Secret.”

  My forehead still stung. Esmé hauled her suitcase off the bed and yanked the door open.

  “I’m going back to Taylor’s. If you so much as knock on the door, I’ll tell everyone about Gabe. Everyone.” She turned to look at me. Her eyes were ringed in pink, her nose red, her fingernails scraping along the plastic handle in nervous snares. “You’ve ruined everything. Everything.”

  I recoiled back into the pillows as she stalked down the corridor. I heard her coarse little bleats of sobs at my Mum, and Mum’s comforting words back. The creak of the front door. What had she told people? Exactly how deep a hole were Gabe and I in?

  My phone read seven thirty-two a.m.. A beautiful start to the day if there was one. But beneath all the crap and the panic, a hope stirred in my belly: Canada. An escape. The unknown. And Gabe, no doubt asleep at the end of the hall, with an empty pillow beside him, surrounded by shredded butterfly wings.

  ***

  When I awoke again two hours later, it was because of the slanging match in the living area. Gabe and my mother. Oh God.

  The dress I pulled on was a day old, but no matter. No time to brush my teeth. I padded toward the shouts and curses, a cool sweat emerging in uncomfortable places. Time to face the music (if the music sounded like an episode of Sons of Anarchy).

  “You just can’t help yourself, can you?” Mum spat. Gabe sat hunched on the sofa, and she circled him like a vulture, last night’s makeup melted to smudges on her face. “Oh, hello, Danni. Decided to grace us with your presence, have you?”

  I just loitered in the doorway, trying not to hyperventilate.

  Gabe glanced up at me. Dark circles ate at his eye sockets; he hadn’t slept a wink. He wore a long-sleeved T-shirt, no doubt to hide the scratches on his arms. “Danni. She knows.”

  I nearly wet myself. Words balanced on my tongue, impotent and unmoving. “Knows…w-what?”

  “About—”

  “About you and that boy. About how this idiot—” She gestured to Gabe, “—has been covering for you. Helping you cheat on Esmé. Delightful, really, absolutely fucking marvellous.”

  Me and a boy. Gabe helping? I glanced between them and didn’t know whether to die of relief or embarrassment. “Oh. That.”

  “I sent you down to Devon to grow up, Danni. I didn’t realise stupidity was contagious.”

  Gabe rolled his eyes. “Thanks.”

  “You’ve broken that poor girl’s heart. She’s in pieces. Trust me, I know how that feels!”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, my voice hoarse.

  “Sorry isn’t good enough. Sorry doesn’t cut it.” She jerked back to Gabe. “And you should know better. Leading her on like that, letting her think this is okay. Do you enjoy screwing things up for people?”

  “No,” he said quietly.

  “Would you like to know a few home truths about your Uncle Gabriel, Danni?”

  I trembled, still clutching the door frame. “Um.”

  “Sit down,” she barked.

  I didn’t dare disobey her, so I scuttled forward and cowered in the easy chair. Gabe and I exchanged sombre, defeated stares.

  “We were here,” Mum went on, “on holiday. You were just a toddler really. Your father and I were talking about getting married. His family lived here, see.”

  “My…” What? We had no pictures of my father. Mum always swore she didn’t even know his last name. I just got used to thinking that he was this faceless, absent sperm donor, but now she told me he was around after I was born? “Excuse me?”

  “He had a sister, around Gabe’s age,” she said sadly. “And Gabe was always flirting with her. Weren’t you? You were what, thirteen?”

  He grimaced. “If you say so.”

  The Earth Day girl? No freaking way.

  Mum folded her arms as she sat on the arm of the sofa. “He upset that girl one day. I don’t know what he did, but she was humiliated. Things weren’t good between me and your father, Danni. He was a raging bull of a man when he got angry.”

  “You’ve got to be joking, Jess.” Gabe laughed incredulously. “You can’t still blame me for him leaving.”

  “I can blame you for being the straw that broke the camel’s bloody back!”

  This was why Gabe was the proverbial black sheep of the family? Seriously?

  “Danni,” Gabe croaked. “I didn’t make your father leave, I swear.”

  “You’ve got no idea what you did, you and your thoughtless, selfish behaviour,” said Mum. “I thought maybe you’d matured a bit, but apparently not.”

  I was still reeling from the whole by the way, I know who your dad is, revelation. Every new thought needed a deep breath and a blink.

  “Leave him alone,” I said.

  “What? Don’t tell me you’re defending him.” She stood up, put her hands on her hips, and sneered in Gabe’s direction. “I think it’s best if you leave.”

  “What? Mum—”

  “She’s right, Danni.” Gabe put his face in his hands and sighed. “I suppose I’ll get going.”

  “No. Don’t leave. I don’t want you to,” I pleaded. He shot me a warning look as he stood.

  Mum raised her eyebrows as he strode back to his bedroom. “It’s for the best.”

  “Mum, it wasn’t his fault!” And how the hell was I meant to spend the rest of the week alone?

  “I don’t know what’s gotten into you. I don’t want to hear another thing about this boy you’ve been sneaking off with, either. Christ.” She shook her head. “You know Gabe was only here to see you.”

  I froze. Of course he wasn’t. Until I broke him, he was preparing to run away.

  “Whatever happened between the two of you in Devon,” she went on, “was a mistake. My mistake, sending you there. He’s a bad influence. I didn’t realise you’d become friends.”

  “I can be friends with whomever I want,” I snapped.

  “You can screw whomever you want too, Danni, but don’t expect me to like it.”

  Ouch. (Not that she’d like it any better if she knew who I was really screwing).

  “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about my dad.”

  “I told you everything you needed to know. He was a waste of space.” She wandered over to the kitchen and filled the kettle with a shrill rush of water. “I was trying to keep you safe.”

&nbs
p; “Safe? But you know his name, I could look him up, I—”

  “Why the hell would you want to do that?” She slammed the kettle on to its stand. “He’s always known where we are, but has he ever turned up? No. That tells you everything you need to know.”

  A lump formed in my throat, thick and rancid. This whole day was just lies and shit and disappointment. Everything I’d counted on in my life a few months ago—family, Esmé, my future—they’d been stripped away. I was bare bone and the air felt like sandpaper.

  Furious, confused and shaking, I stomped over to Gabe’s room. Didn’t bother to knock. When I closed the door behind me and sagged against it, his eyes widened over his open suitcase.

  “Danni. Jesus, she’ll—”

  “I don’t care! You can’t leave me. Not here, not now.” The tears broke free, rushing down my cheeks like they rode into battle. Wet little soldiers. “They all hate me. I won’t stay on my own.”

  “You’re not upset at me after hearing about that stuff? About your dad?”

  “He’s not my dad. I never had a dad.”

  “You don’t blame me…?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  He clambered over and took my face in his hands, his voice low. “Thank God for that. Baby. I know it’s awful. But if we’re really doing this Canada thing, I have arrangements to make. All the visa stuff, a bigger apartment, flights…everything.”

  I nodded through the tears. “Okay. But I…I mean, how…?”

  “Here’s what you’re going to do.” He pressed his damp forehead to mine, his wavy hair soft on my face. I squeaked as he put too much pressure on my lump. “What the fuck happened to your head?”

  “Esmé.”

  He frowned. “She attacked you?”

  “She got a bit overenthusiastic with her packing this morning. Anyway. You were saying…”

  “You’re going to be a good girl for a few days. And then you’ll go home, call your uni, and arrange to defer for a year because you’ve had the travel opportunity of a lifetime. Okay?”

  “Right.” Though the thought of spending the rest of the week alone made my stomach churn.

  “I’m going to talk to my new department about bringing you along as an assistant. I was meant to hire one over there and they have rules about stuff like that…but I might be able to wrangle something.”

  I managed a smile. “What would I be assisting you on, Doctor Asher?”

  “I’m going to be a fellow at a museum in Alberta. They have one of the largest Cretaceous plant collections there is. I’ve got a couple of research projects to manage there, and I’ll be teaching at the university. I could use a bright young mind for all my admin. So if you think you can handle a year of my eco crap…”

  “I can handle it.” My smile grew, and I braved a little kiss, just brushed it over his lips. With him standing over me, his weight against me, the feel of lithe muscle beneath his T-shirt—almost everything felt better. For now. When he returned the kiss, it weighed heavy with promise.

  “It’s hardly a party over there, Danni. You need to think about whether you really want that. It’ll be slower, quieter. And I won’t be around for you all the time.”

  “I can deal. I can.”

  “And I need to investigate the visa thing. You might have to fly back a time or two while it’s all sorted out…it’s all a bit short notice.”

  “Doesn’t matter.” I yanked him closer by his short pockets, pushed my hands in and groped him through the fabric. I loved the way it made him chuckle. “We’ll be together. And I’m sure there are a few cool buildings in Alberta I can study, or something.”

  “I’ll email you as soon as I have details, okay? It could be a few days. When I do, I’ll talk to your Mum.”

  I sighed. “That’s if she’ll talk to you.”

  He tipped my chin up so he could look me right in the eye. “I had no idea you weren’t aware about what happened with your dad. I’m sorry it’s all come out like this.”

  “It’s not important.”

  “Of course it is. And I swear to you.” He kissed my throat with a laving chase of tongue. “I didn’t push your dad away. Your Mum, she’s always been…”

  “Melodramatic?”

  “It’s a sensitive subject.” He gave a bitter little laugh.

  “What the hell’s this story about me with a boy?”

  “Oh. Um. Es mentioned you being with a man, so I…filled in the blanks.”

  “Nice save.”

  “Nice lie.” He sighed. “Some good me coming here has done, eh?”

  “No. I’m glad you came. Gabe.” I nuzzled him. “You made me realise what I really want.”

  “I made you change all your plans. Everything. I just hope you don’t end up regretting it.” He exhaled slowly. “Regretting me.”

  “Even when I thought you’d used me,” I managed, “I never regretted you for a second.”

  “You should have.”

  “I call bullshit on that one.”

  We kissed through tearstained grins, and it was the sweetest, most comforting moment I’d had since his first beautiful letter.

  ***

  I watched Esmé’s dad pack her up from the window. Gabe left before her, and already, our drunk little bubble of a world grew a stone skin. Mum had showered and changed, and stood with them to commiserate. God knows what she said. For her, the whole thing must have been humiliating.

  Esmé hadn’t told anyone about Gabe. Why would she keep my secret? Was she in denial? Or was a bit of her still trying to protect her pixie, even when I’d turned out to be a sly little imp?

  Taylor loitered by Esmé, his arms folded and his face blank. As they closed the car doors, he caught sight of me in the window and just blinked like I’d become a ghost he could look right through.

  A ghost was a pretty good description of what I felt like that day. Gabe had gone, Esmé had gone, and my planned start at uni had almost fallen away. It was only Tuesday, so there were four nights before we went home and six until the flight to Canada. An earthquake had shaken our holiday, cracking it down the middle to leave me stuck in the void. Now I had days to climb back to the edge I fell from and the same amount of time to find the glue that would make everything better.

  Time is a healer, all the cruddy old songs say. I kinda wished I’d listened to them better.

  ***

  By the next morning, Mum still hadn’t said a word to me. Sleep locked me out, prodded me with manic laughter, and I barely scraped a few hours. I ended up at the crappy little café for breakfast where I accosted their Internet computer and spent an hour pretending to eat my bacon sandwich while I Googled Canada and flicked through my emails.

  Esmé had already massacred Facebook. Her relationship status said single, much to the surprise and sympathy of the twenty odd people who commented below. Feels like the world has broken, she’d written, with a sad little emoticon beside it. I let the cursor hover over it for a second before I willed myself not to reply.

  And I thought about my father. How could I not? Mum had protected me by lying, she said. But did lies really keep anyone safe? Hadn’t worked for me and Gabe; hadn’t worked for Esmé. I wished I had a name for the guy, a photo. Even if I wouldn’t have known where to start with it. I didn’t want to know the person who’d abandoned us, but I wanted to know the part of him that was like…me.

  “Whatcha doing?”

  I snapped around to see Taylor fiddling with the dark lens attachment on his glasses. He had a bottle of Coke tucked under one arm.

  “None of your beeswax,” I muttered. Like he really wanted to talk to me after…well. He saw me having sex. Even the thought of it made my stomach roil.

  “You on your own today too?” he said.

  “What’s it to you?”

  “Thought we could use a chat.” He tucked his glasses back on and shrugged. “Could walk down to the beach or something.”

  “Why?” I tore a bit of bread off my uneaten sand
wich, trying not to look suspicious.

  “I promise not to be mean, Danni.” He picked up my cardigan and held it out. “Okay?”

  Gah. Fnar. Bah. Schner…oh, for crying out loud. “Okay.”

  I stood up, brushed the crumbs off my cut-off shorts, and he draped the cardigan around my shoulders in an absurd display of chivalry.

  We were silent for a good few minutes, weaving around kids with buckets and spades, enthusiastic grandparents, dads clutching newspapers who were grateful for escape. Several times, he looked ready to talk, but only breath spewed out when his mouth opened. When we reached the stone path to the beach, I gave in.

  “So talk,” I said through my teeth.

  “I dunno what I’m meant to say, Danni.”

  “Anything. The weather. What you watched on TV last night. How many times Granddad farted.”

  He tittered. “A lot. Barbecue brew.”

  “Bleugh.”

  “Yeah.” He glanced around us, shoved his hands into his pockets, and exhaled. “What’s that thing on your head?”

  “You mean my classy Mount Vesuvius bruise?” I patted the round bump on my forehead that had already turned three different shades of purple. “Esmé was chucking stuff around when she packed up.”

  “I guess it’s over with her.”

  “You could say that.”

  “She was in a bad way.” He pressed thin lips together. “She slept in my bed, you know.”

  “Lucky you.”

  “She smells like marshmallows.”

  “You’re a raging pansy, you know that?”

  “Slept and sobbed and ranted. Wasn’t all that sexy, even if she did smell nice. But yeah…she was in my bed.”

  “Still a pansy.”

  He glanced about, checking to make sure we were out of earshot. “If you keep being mean, I’m going to wait until you go to the loo and change your ringtone to that South Park song. How’s it go now? The one about being an uncle fucker.”

  My pulse jumped. Fists balled at my sides. It took every ounce of self-control not to wallop him. “You are not funny.”

  “Sorry.” He recoiled. “Seemed like the way to bring it up, humour and that.”