Scarred Roses

Chapter 5-Too many memories

Audrey strolled, close by my side, as she and I took our usual walk to the school and bus-stop: plus, a house-guest. Nick was there, right beside us. Looking unfairly good in his newly-tailored uniform, flaxen hair ablaze in the warm, spring sunshine. He was sure to make a good impression here, I thought. Especially on those girls, who liked men, visually pleasing to the eye, but loathed the same qualities in other girls. To them, it was just more competition. As if men were nothing but meat, to be fought over. Well, let them have him, I thought. Their attention would just be stroking his pig-headed ego even more than it needed to be.

When we reached the front gate, Ingrid was already there, waiting for me. Dressed this time, in a long, flowing, baby-pink chiffon-scarf, that fluttered in the coolish breeze, and a matching, knitted barrette; bits of choppy, mousey-brown locks sticking out from the back of her neck and around her face. She wore no stockings this time, seeing no need in such nice weather, and upon seeing Audrey at my side, reverted to a more timid stance. For some, strange reason, she was always a little afraid of my sister. I thought, at first, it was because she moved around in the same social circle as her troublesome sisters, but then, Audrey hardly ever had reason to know them as personal friends. They were too busy tearing out each other’s own hair, half the time, to even notice.

“I’ll leave you in Ingrid’s capable hands.” Audrey said, planting a kiss onto the top of my head. “He tries anything, you tell me about it. Right?”

“Right,” I said, “See you after school.”

“Learn new things!”

I laughed, joining Ingrid in a casual walk to the courtyards. We were relatively relaxed for a few moments, until I saw Ingrid growing tense beside me. And when I looked to my right, I realised why. He was walking right beside us.

“Hazel, could you tell me where to find the science block?” He asked, putting on the angelic, buttery front. And of course, Ingrid was there.

“Your form-class?” I asked him.

“Yeah. The lady at the office showed it to me once, but it’s kind of slipped my mind.”

“Hang on, what’s the name of your form class?” Ingrid butted in.

“13NTR,”

“Hey, Anton!” Ingrid called over the boy who’d ended up being our tour-guide and Green Thumb. He was, in every sense imaginable, a hippy. From his sandy, dread-locked ponytail, with pieces of seashell embedded into it, right down to the ‘peace’ symbol, worn in patched over his school satchel. But he was nice to us, and still came over now and again to ask us what we were doing with ourselves.

“Hey, seedlings! How’re you doing?”

“We’re great Anton. You’re in 13NTR, right?” She said, getting straight to the point.

“You remembered!”

“Yeah. Well, it looks like we’ve got some fresh meat for you. Anton, meet Nicholas. He’s in your form-class now.”

“Awesome! Hang on, can I see your timetable?”

With a passive expression, Nicholas handed him the crumbled piece of paper. Upon giving it a quick read, Anton grinned.

“Nice! We’ve got Biology and English together. Come on, I’ll take you to our place of learning. Have a great day Ingrid-you too, Venus!”

“Venus?” Nicholas looked to me, clearly amused.

“Like the fly-trap; because she’s silent, but deadly.”

He smirked at me. That infuriating smirk that felt as if he were looking straight through me-and what he saw was something others couldn’t.

“Indeed.”

I felt much better, seeing him walk off with Anton. It was good of Ingrid to come to save the day-well, morning. Her first impression of Nicholas mustn’t have been a good one, the way she treated him with caution.

“I didn’t like that stupid, little smile on his face.” She reasoned, sticking her chin up. “Like he ruled the world, and we were nothing but inferior peasants. And the way he looked at you? Ugh! There’s just something about him that I don’t like. A sort of…arrogance.”

“Arrogant seems to be his middle name.” I retorted with a snort. “Come on, we’d better track down Leo and get to form class.”

We found him at our usual spot, beneath the tree. Immersed in his chemistry essay, that wasn’t due until next Friday, he was in his absolute element. Academics was what Leo knew, lived, and breathed. He could spend hours at a time, pouring through encyclopaedias in the library, thick, dog eared history books, and his all-time favourites; Geography books. Each hard and paperback was a new adventure for him. Something more to have in that archival brain of his.

“I take it the new student has arrived,” He commented, never looking up from his exercise book. “Well, Ingrid? What’s he like?”

“Everything those girls are going to love.” She replied, “And everything we just might hate.”

“Is he that bad?” He asked, albeit, sceptically.

“You should’ve seen the way he looked at Hazel! I didn’t want to leave him alone with her, in case he tried to…”

Leo looked up from his book, worry furrowing his brows at her wavering tone. I didn’t want her being so worried over me, and I really didn’t think she would when I neglected to mention his treatment towards me on Saturday and Monday. But I knew well enough that when Ingrid formed an opinion of someone, she did it on her own terms. Without influence from anybody. And I, as one of her best friends, was no exception to that opinion.

“Come on then,” He settled, closing his exercise book. “Let’s get to class. If he should actually try anything, we’ll deal with it when it comes to us.”

“Leo’s right,” I said to her, “He’ll make friends soon enough, and when he does he’ll be too busy to even think of doing anything.”

We all headed to form class, taking our usual seats. Marlon was already there before us, armed with a packet of multi-coloured, neon markers, and a pair of plain, black sneakers on the desk before him.

“Another pair of customized kicks?” Ingrid asked with a half-smile.

“Mum bought these from ‘Kicks’ on a discount. They’re a bit plain, so I’m giving them a paint-job.” He explained, popping the lid off of the yellow marker and starting a series of bright stripes across the toe. “She saw your sister there, Hazel. Said she seemed kind of…tense, I think. Stressed, tense, something like that.”

“It’s not surprising,” I let a sigh hiss through my teeth, resting my chin into my palm. “Nicholas starts school today. She’s made it clear that she doesn’t trust him-not around me, anyway.”

“Woah. This guy must’ve done something bad, if he’s earnt Audrey Kazia’s scorn.”

Did almost killing me count as bad? I wondered. Marlon didn’t know; only Ingrid, out of all my friends, knew about what happened. And I wasn’t sure I was ever going to tell them. I did love my friends, really, and I trusted them. But what Nicholas did wasn’t even something I acknowledged on a regular basis. If they knew what he did…oh god. They couldn’t know! I wouldn’t make them keep such a secret.

“Hazel? You alright?” Ingrid whispered. Christ, I was far, too deep in thought to pay any attention.

“Yeah-I’m fine.”

“Attention, pupils!” Miss Kotter drew in our attention, clapping her hands together as she stood from her desk. “Some exciting, new notices on today’s bulletin! The Chess tournament is approaching, so practises will be including Friday’s at three thirty. Year twelve Japanese, this is your last chance to get your hands on some chocolate to raise money for the exchange trip in December. And coming this Saturday, is open-mic night for the performing arts students! Whether you’re participating, or just cheering on your mates, be at The Square, at five PM onwards for some serious fun.”

Open-mic night. Flora would love that! Hell, Flora would’ve probably organized that herself. And no doubt, she’d be on a campaign to rope us all into going-participating or not.

“Should we humour her?” Leo smiled wryly, referring, of course, to the open-mic night. “We know she’ll be begging us to go anyway.”

“And we know that anything at The Square is worth going to.” Ingrid pointed out, “And I could use a night, out of the house for once.”

“Motion seconded,” I added.

“Motion carried!” Marlon concluded with a laugh. “Do you reckon they’d let me do any beat-boxing?”

“If you steer clear of the dubstep.” Ingrid said, cockily. “Where should we meet?”

“How about Bridget’s, if we can talk her into it?” I suggested, “She’s closest to everybody.”

“I’ll talk to her in History,” Ingrid decided. “Though there’s a chance that Flora might’ve gotten to her first.”

True. Oh well, at least it meant we were all going out together. And I didn’t think it was likely for Nicholas to show up at an open-mic night. He didn’t seem the type to get involved in the musical arts. It’d be just me, my friends, and anything-in-a-milkshake shakes at The Square café. The best place to be on a weekend. It was sure to be a good night, I thought, and mum and dad had no reason to object. At last, I had some plans to look forward to.

My first two classes were fairly mundane; history and English. Homework was handed in, things were learnt, notes were taken and boredom was just as strong a prescience as it normally was. After morning break was Drama, followed by Graphics; with Flora, of course, enlisting more students into participating in open-mic night. Goodness, she was relentless! By the time class had ended, she proudly announced that she had three, more additions for the open-mic line-up. Tahlia Hannigan, Lucas Abel, and Rhys Whitlock on the base guitar. In History, we had a questionnaire on Martin Luther King Jr, followed by a hand-out of the jelly-babies: one per correct answer. So, when it was time for lunch, I felt relatively at my leisure. The sun was beckoning, the smell of fresh blossom, mingled with the delicious, mouth-watering smell of tuck-shop chips, cooking in the fryer, and the feel of an icy breeze, washing over my face and neck like a spray of cool water. That felt nice, I sighed inwardly. I almost felt like diving, head-first, into Lilac Lake-something we did a lot when we were kids. But I couldn’t think of having a swim during lunch time. I had no towel, no togs, and whenever I swam, I needed more than just a meagre hour to take a dip. I needed half a day, a whole day at the very least.

“Great weather for swimming, isn’t it?” Bridget caught up with me, still dressed in her tennis whites from P.E.

“That was just what I was thinking.” I replied, “We could go to the water-hole after school?”

“Better yet, we can bag the school pool before everybody else gets there.” She suggested. “It’s open until five.”

“I’ll head home and grab my togs first. I’ve got to let mum know I’ll be there anyway; the last time I went out, the note I left her mysteriously disappeared.”

“New kid?” It wasn’t hard for her to guess. “I’ve seen a new guy, fitting your description, hanging around the lockers in the Science Block. Good-looking, by all standards, but a little full-of-himself. Kept talking, looking at everyone else as if he were better than them.”

“That sounds like Nicholas.” I said, tightly. “Anyhow, I’m starving.”

“My stomach agrees with that notion.” Bridget giggled at the involuntary rumble. “And here we are!”

Everybody else was here, sitting cross-legged in a circle, digging into whatever was in their lunches. Noting my own hunger, I took a seat on the soft, warm grass with Bridget, pulling out a small, square parcel from my back pack and tearing off the wax paper to find out what surprise mum had left me. Ah, chicken and mayonnaise! She always knew what I liked. Especially out of the deli leftovers from the lunch rushes. Eagerly, I took a bite. Sighing with a grin as the juice from the still-tender chicken took my undivided attention.

“She loves her chicken,” Marlon commented with a snigger.

“Exactly the way I feel about pudding cups.” Ingrid declared, proudly. Looking triumphant as she pulled out a twin-pack of miniature, chocolate mousse-puddings. “Speaking of which…”

Our lunches were devoured, bit by bit. Ingrid’s pudding cups were emptied, my sandwich gone, and all but a few crumbs remained of Leo’s cheese toastie. After the food was gone, we all just talked. We laughed, we joked, we talked about classes about teachers, about stuff our family was doing. We talked about Mrs. Lambart-one of Derby’s oldest residents, and her spoilt pug-dog, Reginald Lambart the third-Reggie for short.

“I think that dog’s looking for some way of revenge.” Marlon speculated, “I’ve seen him, you know. Pissing in her gardenia’s when she’s not looking, staring at her with those big, creepy eyes. He’s looking for ways to make Mrs. Lambart pay.”

“And how’s he going to do that, yap her to death?” Ingrid scoffed, “Maybe he’ll get his dog-friends over to ruin her entire flower garden.”

“You might laugh now, but just you wait.” He tutted, “That dog may be quiet, but it’s the quiet ones you have to watch out for.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself!”

We turned around, and there was Nicholas. Standing straight and proudly, looking at us-or rather, me, with an unaffected smirk. Now all my friends could see him, judge for themselves whether or not he was truly arrogant. And unfortunately for him, the way he was behaving just gave his arrogance a stronger impression.

“Can I help you with something?” I said in a clipped tone. What I really meant to say was ‘leave before you embarrass yourself as a bad, school bully’.

“My new friends told me there was some sort of freak-show at this school-didn’t know it was you and your friends, but then, why should I be surprised?”

Behind him, were a few people I recognised, but didn’t particularly like. Mostly because Audrey has had some sort of effect on them, and they were bitter for it. Whether she didn’t return their attraction to her, or were mostly jealous of the attention she got, I wasn’t sure. And for a reason that was entirely none of their concern, they didn’t like me. So, if they had some sort of way to get to me, they’d use it whatever means necessary. This, meeting Nicholas, must’ve been one of those times.

“Would you look at that!” Ingrid replied, sarcasm thickly lacing her tone. “It’s the whole, motley crew. Is there anything we can do for you on this fine day?”

“Perhaps they need advice on their comebacks? They’re a little dry.” Marlon added.

“Not today,” He replied, “I have a message for my dear friend, Kazia. From these lovely people. They wanted to let you know that Trevor was back in town for the weekend, and wanted to catch up.”

Trevor? How did he know about Trevor?!

“He’s been talking about you.” One of those girls added, wearing a sneering smile. “Wants to get to know you better.”

Oh god, no! This was low, even for him. Why? Why did he have to go and bring up that…that poor excuse of a boy, right here and now? When he only knew one half of the story too. Their half. Oh, there were many things I had to be angry with him for, but this…I wouldn’t forgive him for this.

“Excuse me,” I murmured, standing up, fleeing the scene like a true coward. I couldn’t bear to look at his face, look at that awful smirk after what he just said. If he was truly curious, then he would’ve asked me! No, I conceded. He was just doing this for pettiness, to be cruel. God, I was so stupid! I really thought I could keep him and his nasty attitude at bay. I thought, foolishly, that his grief was a valid excuse for…all this. It wasn’t. Grief or not, nothing could excuse him setting out to hurt another person, just because he wanted to. Nothing.

“Hazel?” Ingrid was there, but I wasn’t paying much attention to her. All I could think of was the panic, tightening in my chest, pulling and tugging, telling me to run home and never leave my room again. I didn’t want to see Nicholas’s face, those vile girls, or even think of Trevor again. I was a fool to believe that I’d left the memory of him behind when he departed Derby for Manchester and never looked back. That memory was just as easy for someone like Nicholas to resurrect as it was to put on clothes in the morning.

“Hazel?” Ingrid tried again, more gently this time, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Hazel, are you alright?”

“How could he know?” I whispered, my voice crumbling. “How could he possibly know?”

“Something makes me think he doesn’t know the whole story.” She said, angrily. “Those stupid girls hung around Trevor like a bad smell-you know what lengths they’d be willing to go to for him.”

“Like lie?” I spat, more to myself than to her. “You know, I already know he hates me. I know he’d rather see me jump off a bridge than ever consider us becoming friends. But to believe people who’d rather lie about something this…sick, to protect their precious Trevor than acknowledge that he’s a monster…what did I ever do?” Tears were streaming down my cheeks, my eyes red, my face pale, all of which I was forced to acknowledge in my ugly, little reflection. “What did I do wrong?”

Ingrid hugged me close, rubbing my back soothingly. I wanted to cry on her shoulder, just let it all go with every, passing tear. But this wasn’t the place to break down. In a girl’s toilet, where anybody could walk in and see. No. I would simply dry my tears and gather at least a little dignity before I went out to face the rest of my friends.

“Hey-I thought you guys would be in here.” Flora popped her head through the door. “Nicholas and his mates are gone-we chased them off. You can come out if you want.”

“We might as well,” I replied, sniffing. “Just let me get cleaned up first.”

With a bit of tissue paper and some water from the sink, I gave my face a thorough scrub. My eyes were still bloodshot, but not much. But there was more composure, more colour in my cheeks, just enough for me to go back outside and resume what we were doing-without Nicholas or his friends interrupting. So, with Flora and Ingrid at either side of me, I braced myself before pushing the door open, and making my way back to our tree in the courtyard. Bridget, Leo and Marlon were all sitting there, waiting anxiously, it seems, none of them wearing even the slightest hints of a smile. They might not have known about Nicholas, but they knew about Trevor. Just about over half the school knew about that.

“You’re right,” Bridget was the first to speak. “He is a douchebag.”

“Him and his new ‘mates’ went off, saying they had better things to do.” Marlon added, “He said to them ‘I live with her, I can set them up easily’. Then we all gave him a piece of our mind.”

“Did you tell him what really happened?” I was only mildly curious-I doubted he’d feel anything but smugness either way.

“No-we didn’t know if you’d want us to.” Bridget explained. “We just told him he was being an asshole, and a stupid one at that, for believing stupid rumours from his new friends.”

“Oh-he’ll find out soon enough that those new friends of his aren’t going to keep him entertained forever.” I said, plainly. “Nicholas might not be a nice person, but he’s smart. He’s like a toddler, and expensive toys. He want’s what he sees in the stores and on the TV, but once he finds out how they work, and why they’re not, so special, he abandons them for something newer and more complicated. Once he sees that all they can do is talk, he’ll move on to others. You’ll see.”

We departed for class, heavy of mind. A startling contrast to how we were at the beginning of our lunch break. I’d still like to go for a swim, this afternoon-though, not at the school pool with Bridget and the others. I needed to be alone for a little while; away from prying eyes. So, when Art came and went, I hurried to the gate to meet Audrey. Just my luck, her bus had come to a shuddering stop, just across the road. She only had a morning and afternoon shift, and she didn’t have to help lock up on Wednesdays. At least it meant I could walk home with my sister and not that…that asshole.

“It was hectic today!” She said with a smile. “We had a new shipment of that Taylor Swift line of shoes, and somehow everyone heard about it! I swear, I can’t remember a time where the store was so busy.”

“That’s great.” I said, mustering just enough enthusiasm to mask my unease. “Are they as good as everybody built them up to be?”

“They’re nice-but no fantastic.” She said, “It just goes to show that there’s just too much hype around a celebrities’ life these days.”

“I thought you liked celebrity gossip.” I said with an amused smile.

“Yes-real gossip. Not stupid things like Kim Kardashian’s baby names or Selena Gomez’s purity ring being thrown away when she hooked up a Jonas Brother.”

I didn’t care much for celebrities these days. Especially reality stars. Everybody knew that the lives they lived on TV couldn’t be farther from the truth, so why buy into it? Why watch over-controlling women who still clung to their old, childhood dreams of being famous, push their daughters into a similar fate? I could never do that when I had children. I’d raise them the way children ought to be raised; away from technology, with nothing but nature, nurture and their own imaginations to keep them occupied. I suppose it was kind of useless, thinking like this. I didn’t even know whether or not I wanted to be a mother when I was older. But if I was, I’d know which ways I wouldn’t raise them. And which kinds of parents one ought not to look up to.

“So, how was school?” She asked me, “Anything exciting?”

“I’ve got plans on Saturday.” I left that part in. “Open-mic night at The Square. Flora coerced me into attending-for moral support.”

“Well, that’s good. At least you’ll have some fun this weekend. I think after the shifts I’ve lined up, I’ll just be spending the whole time sleeping.”

“More stock intake?”

“Mmhmm,” She hummed, “Celebrity brands are just too popular, it seems.”

Home loomed over in view as we steadily approached dad’s self-built, periwinkle letterbox-house with the numbers ‘23’ nailed onto it in black. I didn’t know if Nicholas was following us, and I didn’t care to check. I rushed into the house, dumping my schoolbag on my bed and pulling out a bathing suit from my top drawer of my dresser, I dug out my beach bag, walking to the linen cupboard to fetch a towel to take with me. Mum wasn’t home yet, and I couldn’t see Nicholas anywhere downstairs, so I told Audrey where I was going before I practically fled the house. Over the fence, through the plantation, and on a brisk walk to Lilac Park. My arms, legs, fingers and toes were aching, begging to move through the still, deep, sparkling pools of Lilac Lake. Sometimes, if the water was clear enough, I could go combing alone the bottom of the lake for hidden treasures. I used to do it when I was little; once, I even found a pearl and silver comb, embedded in grass and algae, that must’ve been there for years. After a good, half hour of cleaning and polishing, I posted it to Gretel, who in return, sent me a red-rose pendant, encased in rose-gold silver.

As soon as my feet touched the perfectly kept grass, I found the nearest changing block I could get to and took off the blasted uniform! Donning a fuchsia-floral, nautical suit that came with its own, little skirt. A birthday gift from Grandma. I liked it better than most bathing suits; it wasn’t as showy as those stylish, string-bikini’s we had these days, and it felt more like a mini-dress than it did an actual bathing suit. It was as if I could wear it anywhere. It made it all the more satisfying to feel that sun, tickling my bared arms and legs as I trekked, barefoot through the grass, happy to go somewhere that Nicholas or his new friends couldn’t find me. Did it make him envious? I wondered. To know there was just one place he couldn’t hurt me? I hope it did. I hope he felt at least some negativity amongst all that arrogance and vanity.

With a single splash, I left all my troubles at the borders of Lilac Lake as I kicked my way down, leaving the surface further and further behind me. Swimming worked every muscle in the body, and considering how much tension there was, I was glad to have more ways in which I could burn this stifled energy. Above me, I could see the waddling feet of a white, mother duck, and half a dozen, fluffy, yellow ducklings. Sunshine bounced off the lakes’ surface, like a huge, shimmering sapphire on the neck of mother nature herself. And I was right in the middle of it.

With my breath held tight, I delved deeper and deeper, the grass of the lake’s bottom just brushing my hands. Time to looks for treasure, I thought with glee. Swimming just a little closer, I pushed my hands into the grass and began to look. Feeling around, looking for anything hard, pointy, just something that didn’t belong at the bottom of a lake. On my search, I found about four objects, sitting, hidden in the grass. A new record! Seeing as I was in desperate need of air, I let myself float up to the surface, taking lungful after greedy lungful as I waded over to the edge of the bank. I laid them all out, one by one. The first must’ve been part of a charm-bracelet; a small, copper hammer with a loop on the end. The second, a cotton handkerchief, embroidered with bluebells and violets. The third, a figurine of a ballerina, paint faded, covered in slime. And the fourth, a whittled wolf. Every detail, from the fur on its’ tail to its’ sharp, snarling teeth, was carved precisely. As I floated, partially perched on the bank, I looked at those four objects and couldn’t help thinking that they were all, small representations of my family. The hammer was dad; a tinker by nature, who loved nothing more than to steal away to his shed and fix whatever he deemed fixable. The handkerchief was mum; delicate, soft, and pretty. Always there to wipe away the tears. The figurine was Audrey; dazzling, enchanting, could beguile a person with just a mere glance. And the wolf? I already knew who the wolf was. There was no need to even wonder.

Kicking more water behind me, I let myself float. My hair, floating streams of raven, in the water. Like streaks of ink. The sun offered an incredible surge of gentle warmth, in comparison to the water’s cold. Happy to play and float about in my very own sanctuary, I dared to let out a laugh. Not a big, loud one. Just audible enough for nature to know that I was happy. That I was one with this place, and I wanted the world to know it!

Nicholas

I honestly don’t know why I followed her. Surely, there were better things to do with my afternoon; I could have lifted weights, watched a movie, text one of my new classmates to see if they wanted to hang out. Anything had to be better than following her around. And yet, here I was. In a place called Lilac Park (a stupid name for a park), watching her. Kazia. The girl I just loved to hate. She was swimming in a lake, floating contently on her back, just…smiling. Her arms were stretched out, letting the water move with her, become part of her. She looked as if she’d been swimming her entire life. Like the water brought her peace. She didn’t deserve peace. She didn’t deserve such a good life when those who were worthier, couldn’t have one.

I’ll admit, I was mildly disappointed when I saw her again. She wasn’t the shy, little mute she used to be when I last knew her; when I tried to play with her first, she bit back; she fought like a tiger, even managed to get me in the manhood before she ran off. I used to think that she was nothing like her sister, that she’d never stand up for herself, no matter how much she wanted to. I guess she had more of Audrey in her than I thought. Such a shame. I missed the way we used to ‘play’; when I was the wolf, and she was the rabbit. A game of hunting couldn’t involve two wolves. She’d have to become the rabbit again; whether she wanted to or not.

And I hated to admit it, but…Damnit! I wished she was ugly. I wished she was still the frog-eyed, pale, little waif she was when I’d first met her. But even I couldn’t deny that she was a beautiful girl. Not the kind of girl that caked themselves in makeup, scraps of material for clothes, and spent a majority of the time taking mirror selfies, but a rare, soft beauty that almost never came naturally to girls these days. Raven hair, skin like porcelain, a face of pretty, delicate features, and a pair of lips that begged to be kissed. It was easier to focus on those parts about her. The same couldn’t be said for her lovely body. Toned, pale legs, round hips, a narrow waist, and a pair of soft, pretty breasts I could imagine myself fondling all day and night. I could see them now, as she floated along the lake. Rising and falling with each, passing breath. I wondered how it would feel to run my fingertips over the exposed parts of her bathing suit. To touch that soft, ivory skin properly. Smell it, breath it, taste it. Perhaps that’s why that guy, Trevor I think his name was, wanted to see her this weekend. Perhaps he wanted another fix of her. I couldn’t blame him for wanting it. She was the perfect mixture of lust and innocence, combined into one, unique creature.

Only, when I confronted her today, I didn’t quite get the reaction I thought she would give me. I mean, it was common knowledge around that school that she was into this guy. She went to a party with her sister, he was there, and she made a move. If that was the case, why was she so set on avoiding any mention of his name? I don’t know. Perhaps she was just embarrassed about it. Anyhow, why should I care? She was a stupid, little girl and that’s all she’d ever be. Her personal life was none of my business-let alone her love life. And yet…I was still curious. I never imagined a girl like her, throwing herself at an older guy, because of some innocent crush. So why did she? The only way to find out would be asking her, and there was no way in hell she’d tell me the truth. Perhaps I ought to leave it be. Or…No, I couldn’t. It wasn’t wise, but…could I?

Hazel

When I got home, at last, mum was just a few minutes away from serving dinner. This time, Audrey passed the message on to her, so there were no worried texts or voicemails. With the tension, free from my body and mind, I had no problem sitting down for dinner with my family and putting my fair share into the conversation. I didn’t acknowledge Nicholas-not even once. And it was nicer that way. Almost as if it were just me and my family again. Dad, talking about the old gramophone he was fixing up, mum mentioning a lovely compliment she got from one of the tourists who came into the restaurant for lunch, and Audrey recounting the story of the new, Taylor Swift line of shoes that came into ‘Kicks’. All was well. Then, of course, mum had asked Nicholas how his first day at Derby High went. Happy to have all the attention diverted back to him, he smiled. Looking through us all like glass as he spoke.

“Yeah, it was pretty good. Signed up for the football and the swim team, met my teachers, even found some people in my year to hang out with.”

“Well, that’s great!” Mum beamed, serving him some smashed potato. “The school has some great extra-curricular activities. Hazel’s friend Bridget is on the girl’s Tennis team.”

“Really?” He looked at me, a smirk playing on his lips. “I didn’t know that.”

“Hazel and her friends are involved in a lot of different activities.” Dad included. “Flora Field, I work with her father, does a lot of performing for the school’s theatre productions. Her friend Leo is on the debating team, and Ingrid’s a good pianist. Has a real talent.”

“Indeed,” He repeated what he said earlier, in just the same, snide tone as before. “What do you do Hazel, pray tell?”

“She’s a great photographer.” Audrey answered him quickly, staring at him with coldness.

“Great?”

“The best in town,” her voice lowered. But if mum and dad detected even the slightest hints of venom in her tone, they said nothing about it.

“She won a sectional competition when she was thirteen.” Mum added, “Out of eighty competitors.”

“We don’t that many big competitions, where we are, but if there’s any competitions Hazel can enter, she’ll go for them.” Dad praised, looking at me with a fatherly softness. Thanks dad, I replied the best I could without words. Thanks for understanding.

“Impressive.” He said, clearly not impressed, nor interested in the slightest.

“It is,” Audrey replied, wearing a smile that was almost mocking. “She’s got a real gift.”

The rest of dinner was devoured quickly, and as the lights were dimmed, the TV shows growing less and less familiar, and mum and dad settled themselves comfortably on the sofa, I decided to go to bed. I was hoping not to interact with Nicholas alone at all, after today. But it seemed he was waiting for me as I reached the landing. Leaning against the wall, arms crossed, infuriating smirk touching his lips. Great, I thought with dismay. Now I’d have to talk with him.

“Did you enjoy that?” He asked, “All that praise. If I didn’t know any better, I’d mistake you for an honourable student.”

“You think I’m not?” I didn’t care what his answer was-I just wanted to end the conversation.

“You wouldn’t know what honourable means.” He sneered, stalking toward me. “You skip around with those silly, little friends of yours, acting like a bunch of morons. Wasting your lives when so many others who deserved theirs more, had them taken away.”

“You don’t even know me.” I pointed out, “So what makes you think you can make such a quick judgement?”

“I’ve seen enough to know you’re an idiot.” He snickered, “An i***t who likes to think they’re clever. Now Alice…she was a smart kid. Loved school, couldn’t get enough. She didn’t hang around with the island of misfit toys; she had real friends. Friends that mattered. She worked hard at school, she never got in trouble. She did everything she could to prove to our parents that she belonged at home, with us. They ignored every plea, every word she said and decided to send her back anyway. And on their way there…she deserved life, more than you ever did.”

Mum and dad never told us much about the accident. Just that whatever happened managed to kill Mr and Mrs Koster instantly. Alice was sent to the hospital, alive but in critical condition. She couldn’t even make it through the night. Until now, I didn’t even think Nicholas was willing talk about what happened at all. He didn’t even mention his sister in front of us. Doing it now, to me, out of all people…surely, he must’ve known. No matter how many times he could try to cover his pain with insults and threats, his pain would always be there for me to see.

“Your grief is yours, Nicholas. You can say whatever you want to me, but do yourself a favour and don’t stifle pain. Pain will never fully disappear unless you confront it, head-first. That’s what I did; and I’d do it again, if it meant finally being able to move on with my life. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go to bed. Sweet dreams.”

I still despised him, for what he did. But at the moment, I felt something towards him that was stronger than hatred or disgust-pity. I pitied him for losing his parents, and a sister he so obviously adored. But he wasn’t the only one to know tragedy. At one point in our lives, we’d all experienced sadness, pain, or lost somebody we loved dearly. He was no exception to that. The best thing he could’ve done for himself was to put his childhood contempt aside and seek comfort from family and friends who were willing to give it to him. With their help, he could face his pain and move on to something wholesome and worthy. But that’s just thing thing-he wasn’t doing just that. He clung to his hatred like a tattered, old teddy bear, and used it as a means to justify his anger. He was never going to get better like that. I swear, he’d only get worse.

I know it must’ve sounded hypocritical of me-talking about moving past the pain when there was pain of my own, still buried deep beneath the surface. But the pain I felt was very different to his. He had multiple families to support him; two of them were even willing to take him in. Thanks to those girls, only a handful of people in school believe my version of what happened between Trevor and me. I might not have lost anything that night, not technically. But inside, I was torn apart. I pushed down at the pain because nobody believed it was rightfully my pain to feel. Nicholas was allowed to own his pain, and conquer it-but he wasn’t going to, anytime soon.