Undone(21)

‘Really.’ He was fidgeting. His hands drummed a beat on his thighs.

‘Kai, this is me here. Be honest.’

He laughed and it was a genuine Kai belly laugh. ‘I am being honest. OK, here’s the deal. This video thing has happened and I wish it hadn’t, but there’s nothing I can do about it. There’s no point crying about it, is there? I’ve got to man up. Nut up or shut up, right?’ I said nothing, which was OK because he carried on talking without giving me a chance to answer. ‘So the plan is, I’m going to stay home tomorrow. No point going back on a Friday, is there? Then I’ve got Saturday and Sunday, and by the time Monday comes around, people will have something new to talk about. Hopefully there will be another party this weekend and someone will do something even more embarrassing and they’ll forget all about me . . .’ His voice trailed off into nothingness and he stopped fidgeting.

The onslaught of words was like hailstones battering my head. But even though he’d been speaking at the speed of light, I’d still caught it. ‘So it was at the party?’ It was the first time I’d broached the subject; I’d been waiting for him to say something first.

‘I didn’t say that.’ His words were measured now.

‘Kai, I recognized your stupid shirt as soon as I saw it.’

He shook his head and slapped his cheeks, and completely ignored what I’d just said. Under normal circumstances he’d never let me get away with dissing his sartorial choices. ‘God, I’m so tired. Not enough coffee. Not nearly enough coffee. Right, anyway, you’d better get going before Mum wakes up. Faking an illness is so much trickier when your Mum’s a nurse.’ He jumped up from his chair and held out his hand to me. ‘Off you go now. I bet you’ve got homework you should be doing, haven’t you?’

I nodded and allowed myself to be led downstairs.

‘Kai, are you sure you’re OK? You’re acting a little weird.’

He kissed me on the forehead. ‘Ah, Jemima! Weirdness is one of my many charms.’ Then he grabbed me in a bear hug and squeezed so hard I thought I might pass out.

I went to pull away after a couple of seconds, but he squeezed even harder and whispered in my ear. ‘Nope. I’m not quite ready for this hug to end. It’s a particularly good one, in my humble opinion.’

So we stood there in the doorway for a good couple of minutes and it was nice. Kai’s hugs always made the world seem a better, safer place. He didn’t smell quite as good as usual. The aroma of stale coffee was added into the mix, but at least that explained some of the weirdness. Kai and caffeine never did mix well.

When he finally let me go, he put his hands on my shoulders and it couldn’t have felt more different from that little scene with Stu in the corridor. ‘I love you, Jem. If I was one of those horrible heteros, I would ravish you this instant!’ He buried his face in my neck and pretended to ravish, whatever that meant.

I squirmed and jumped away. ‘Get off me, you big idiot! And don’t lie – if you were straight you would totally end up with someone like Sasha Evans.’

He tilted his head to the side and considered this for a moment. ‘Yeah, you’re probably right. I’m, like, waaaaay out of your league.’ I tried to hit him but he danced out of the way. ‘But if you sorted out that hair . . . I totally would.’

I shook my head and turned to walk down the garden path. ‘You know I’m kidding, right? You’re beautiful.’ His voice was different then, more serious. I turned back and looked at him. His face was serious too.

‘You are a big fat liar, Kai McBride.’ I stuck my tongue out at him.

Then I walked away. Without a backwards glance.

I never saw him again.





chapter thirteen


I called him a liar. That was the last thing I ever said to him. Sure, we texted loads the next day, but that’s not the same, is it? You are a big fat liar, Kai McBride. I was joking, and he knew I was joking. But that doesn’t make me feel any better.

I knew something wasn’t quite right. I knew I shouldn’t have let him shoo me out of the house. My excuse? I was so bloody relieved he wasn’t in the state he’d been in the night before. I wanted to believe that he really was feeling better about everything. I thought he was trying to talk himself into it, and if he needed me to play along, then that’s exactly what I’d do.

It was only later that night that I realized he hadn’t asked me about school. Which was the first thing I’d have done as soon as he’d walked through the door, if the situation had been reversed. I might not have wanted to know how bad it was, but I would have needed to know. I’d have needed to know what I was up against, how I was going to get through the next few days and weeks and months.

That’s what should have set every single alarm bell ringing – if I had half a brain. But I shrugged it off, blaming his overly caffeinated state. And when he still didn’t ask during the flurry of text messages the next day? I was glad. Relieved I didn’t have to explain that everyone was still talking about him. People were still coming up to me and asking questions or saying horrible, ugly things or smirking from a distance like Stu.

Friday night was a family night out – something I usually enjoyed, despite moaning and whinging about it every time. Without even planning to, I seemed to have made it my mission to never ever show any enthusiasm for anything arranged by my parents. Still, despite my best efforts, I think they secretly knew that I sort of liked spending time with them. I liked it when we were all sitting at a table together. There was something appealing about the ritual of it. Dad would pour Mum a glass of wine, Noah would crunch his ice cubes before drinking his Coke. Mum would tell him he’d break his teeth if he wasn’t careful. I would sit and observe. It was nice.