Non Pratt - Trouble

Katie isn’t looking so confident now. “You wouldn’t. I’ve got just as much shit on you.”

“Yeah. You have. You were my best friend.” There’s a flicker in her gaze and I wonder if she remembers my voicemail. “I trusted you, but you swallowed it all only to vomit it back in my face. And do you know what? The friends I have are the ones who know how much of a bitch I can be and still choose to hang out with me. No one else matters.”

I can see she’s thinking it through and that she’s about to say something about Aaron — again.

“Aaron won’t let me down, so don’t even bother trying. But if you want to push me…”

I leave it open before I hurry away towards the shop. I still want that ice cream. I hear Katie shouting after me, but I’m not going to listen.

I can feel her watching me as I walk out of English with Aaron. We pass her leaning on the wall by the door and I feel her eyes track us as we move towards, past and away down the corridor.

I wonder whether Aaron does too.

I wonder whether they’ll have hot dogs at the canteen for lunch today? I’ve been trying to work out a pattern to when they give you the good stuff and by my calculations there’s a fairly good chance of scoring high today. If not hot dogs, then perhaps something with pastry…

“Did you see her there?” Hannah says, out of the blue.

“See who where?” I look around the canteen as we walk in.

“Katie. Back there in English.”

I shrug in response. Ignore Katie and she’ll go away, like a particularly noxious fart.

“She was watching us,” Hannah says, sliding her tray angrily along the rails so it almost rockets off and I pin it down with the flat of my hand. She’s really worked up about this. Last night she called to tell me all about Katie’s failed confrontation. It was a long conversation — and a repetitive one. I say the same thing now as I said yesterday:

“So what? I’m not going anywhere — she can tell who she likes whatever she wants. You and me? This” — I gently prod the taut flesh of the bump — “we’re all good here. Katie can—”

He stops when he sees me crying and pulls me in for a hug, but I wave him away angrily.

“I don’t know why I’m crying, don’t give me any sympathy.” But I dive in to give him a squeeze anyway — not so quick that someone behind misses a chance to whistle. Tosser.

We sit with Anj and Gideon, who have saved us seats and Aaron’s just come back with pots of ketchup for the hot dogs when his phone goes. I nab a pregnant person’s share of the sauce (eating for two is the best excuse) when I notice he’s frowning at the message.

“You OK?” Gideon asks. Aaron seems to have zoned out and I nudge him.

He looks up, still frowning. “It’s from the home. It says I don’t need to go and see Neville tonight.”

“Bonus or bummer?”

“I’m just worried, that’s all — it says he’s not feeling well.”

“Why don’t you call?” Anj suggests. “Reassure yourself.”

I nod hard. I know what it’s like worrying about Gran. “Quick — while Mrs English is looking the other way.”

I duck under the table. This school is ridiculous with its no-mobile policy. By all means carry them around — just never use them.

“It’s me, Aaron,” I say as soon as Neville picks up.

“Of course it is.” He breaks off into a cough that rattles with so much phlegm that I hold the phone away from my ear, as if some of it’s going to come out this end.

“You OK?”

“Course I am. Just got a bit of a cough and the staff have put me in bloody quarantine in my room.” More coughing. “Don’t want the rest of the frail oldies catching it and popping their clogs.”

“No chance of that happening to you, though?” I try to sound casual, despite being aware of Mrs English’s feet walking towards this table.

“What? You gone soft on me?” A crackly throaty chuckle and more coughing. “Don’t be so daft.”

“They told me not to come…”

“I know, I told them to tell you. Don’t want you getting sick and passing it on to Hannah and the baby. I’ll see yo—” Cough. “—u next week.”

I slam my thumb on the red button and bump my head as I emerge to see that Mrs English isn’t fooled in the slightest.

Robert can’t collect me tonight. Lola’s going to a party after school and he’s helping in the hope it’ll encourage other parents to do the same at Lola’s party next month. He asked me if I wanted to come too, but I played the pregnancy card. A: It’s not something I should be doing in my condition (which is a total lie — none of the books say “No kids’ parties!”) and B: Does he really want to show off his pregnant teen stepdaughter?

Anj and I are walking to the bus stop when she says, “So, what’s Aaron’s deal?”

For a panic-stricken second I think she’s talking about the whole question mark that Katie’s trying to put over his paternity.

“After last week I thought something had happened between you two.”

Aaron was a bit withdrawn after we went shopping. He never explained about his mini freak-out and I never asked. So much for the whole trust thing.

“No. We’re all good.”

“Well, yeah, this week…” She looks at me sideways. “Have you heard what Katie’s been saying?”

My insides turn cold. I didn’t realize she’d already started telling everyone her little theory.

“What’s she been saying?”

“I don’t know, but I heard her talking to Nicole about how weird it is that Aaron moved here in the middle of his GCSEs.”

I recover a bit. “Not that weird. They moved house.”

Although that’s all I know. Aaron said that they went to Australia for the summer and came back to a new house. It’s as if his life before the holidays never happened.

“Yeah…” Anj tails off. “It’s odd how he never really talks about anything before he came here, y’know?”

I shrug.

“Hasn’t he talked to you about it?”

“No,” and I look up as I say that, so she knows I’m not hiding some mysterious truth that threatens to break me and Aaron apart. Just the lie that holds us together.

“I thought you might know something.” She’s frowning.

I shake my head.

“…he’s, like, your best mate…”

True.

“…the father of your baby…”

False.

“…don’t you want to know what his deal is?”

The truth is that I don’t. Aaron is my rock. My hero. There’s some saying about heroes and clay feet… I don’t want to discover what Aaron’s feet are made of.

After the lesson ends, I dawdle, closing and saving my work. Although the room’s usually empty within thirty seconds of the lunch bell, I’m not the only one there. Rex is waiting by the door and gives me a “Hey” as I approach. He even makes eye contact.

“Hey,” I reply, walking out into the corridor and into the crush of bodies heading for the canteen.

Rex falls into step beside me, forcing a fast-flowing Year 7 kid to swerve round him. “So. How’s it going? With Hannah and stuff?”

I shrug. “Fine.”

Rex clears his throat and looks down at the floor. “You been deciding baby names and that?”

“No decisions so far.” Which evades the question nicely. “There’s still time for you to nominate if you like? It’s not due for another three months. Rexina has a nice ring to it…”

The way he laughs at this mildly-amusing-at-best joke, in front of witnesses, is deeply suspicious.

“What do you want, Rex?” I stop to look at him. This time there’s no eye contact.

“I told her you’d be suspicious.”

“Why’s she sent you?” There’s no need to ask who he means. “Is it to tell me that I’m not the father?”

Rex looks uncomfortable. “Look… it’s just what people have been saying…”

“‘People’?! You mean Katie,” I say a little too loudly. A few people glance over. “Tell Katie the same thing Hannah did: I’m not going anywhere.”

This gets his attention. It hadn’t occurred to him that Hannah would have talked about this. That she and I are a team.

“Come on, Katie and Hannah were really good mates. If anyone knows…” He sees the way I’m looking at him and his words dry up.

“You’re not seriously going to try and use the ‘good mates’ argument after the way Katie treated Hannah?” I seem to have no control over the volume of my words.

“Katie was upset too—”

“Why are you defending her?” I’ve had enough of this. “Really? Have you not seen yourself? Have you not seen the way she treats you? The girl’s poison, Rex.”

“That’s my girlfriend you’re talking about!”

“Stop defending her!” I’m almost shouting in frustration, dimly aware of the clot of people gathered nearby, staring. “Look at how she ditched Hannah. Those two were best friends. Instead of doing her dirty work, try looking out for yourself before she fucks you over too.”

He’s calling after me as I hurry away, but I’m not running from him, I’m running from my loss of control. The knot inside me is made of many things — guilt, anger, misery… and fear. I am frightened that this isn’t where Katie’s questions will end. When she finds she can’t turn me against Hannah, how far will she go to find a way to turn Hannah against me? God knows she won’t have to go far.