Dating Winter

DisGraceful

My mum couldn't even wait for me to get through the door before giving me a grilling. She was shouting from the moment I turned the key.

"You left your grandad's door unlocked!" she yelled, as I closed the door behind me quickly, trying to avoid the neighbours hearing.
"What? No I didn't!"
"So why is June telling me she found him sitting on the steps outside, looking confused?"
"He always looks confused!" I screamed back. It wasn't the most sensitive response.
"Course he does! He is ill, for God's sake."

Mum was never that good at keeping her cool and she usually meant well, but right now she was really being aggressive. I could see the rage in the whites of her eyes.
"I told you to always double check that you locked the door and made sure you had him settled before you left. Not much to ask."

I tried to duck into the kitchen, but she followed me, red faced.
I stopped and thought about slapping her like I had done to Tom earlier, when he'd trod on me. Thankfully, I managed to count to five in my head instead.
"So, you've got nothing to say for yourself?"
I had plenty to say, alright. Now wasn't the time.

"Mum," I said, trying to sound calm, even though I must've looked insulted. "Grandad has a key. He is more than capable of letting himself out."
She started to look more confused herself. Her eyes were wide and streaming.
"He was calling out your name when June came round the corner and found him on the steps. On his bloody knees. He could've fell over and been laying there for ages and what would we have known about it."
Tears welled in my eye sockets again. "Lucky June was there, then."

I tried to retrace my steps. I remembered saying goodbye when he was sat in the living room. I was sure that I had closed and locked the door. Then I recalled walking off, with my earphones  in, listening to tunes while checking my messages.

Could he have been calling out to me as I walked away?

Was I too busy flicking through Tom's Instagram account to realise?

If that were the case, I'd never forgive myself.

I stomped off to my room and slammed the door shut. Mum called after me.

"He's alright though. It just shows how careful we have to be around him."
Mum's tone had changed slightly. Less aggressive. More regretful.

I flung myself backwards onto my bed and threw my earphones across the room. They tapped lightly against the wardrobe door. I'd chosen objects that were fairly indestructible. My thoughts had become suddenly dark, though. I rolled over and wondered what sharp objects I had nearby.

Grabbing my left arm, I squeezed with all my might. I sat up and wedged my left hand under my bum. Pushing as hard as I could, I wanted the blood to stop flowing in my arm. I wanted to feel that numbness once more. I flung myself onto my side and felt the tingling sensation as my circulation returned.

I wasn't supposed to feel this way any more. So pathetic. So helpless. Such a massive bloody letdown.

And then I slept...

***

I must've slept through the rest of the evening as when I woke up it was nearly midnight. My belly rumbled loudly and was probably the reason that I eventually came round. Opening my door gently, I quietly made me way down stairs to look for leftovers or something even more tasty to fill the gap in my stomach.

Just as I started making a sandwich and opened the fridge to collect the cheese, Daniel emerged from the hallway, just avoiding getting his head flattened by the swinging door.
"You wanna raid the fridge too?" I asked, in a cross between a whisper and a groan.
"I mean, yeh, if you're making sandwiches then count me in," he said, smirking.
He could always charm his way into and out of stuff. Especially with me, his older sister.

"Don't make it dull though. How about some pickle and sauce too?"
Luckily for him, I was in a far more positive state of mind than six hours earlier.

Daniel was fourteen and academic. He was also fairly sporty, playing football, cricket and swimming in contests. I admired him for his work ethic. But it was also good to know that no matter how weird and unstable his big sister had become, he still found a way of looking up to me and coming to me for advice.

"So nan was Indian. Do you remember if she had a sharp nose like me?" he asked as he sat down at a stool by the worktop and began slicing his sandwich into four triangles, just like mum always did.

"The sharp nose is a classic feature of our lot," I pointed out, rubbing the end of my own large nose.
"But it came from nan right? Nan Kulwant?"
"Yes, I guess so. How come you're suddenly worrying about it? You are popular. You have a lot going for you. Why care about your nose?"
"Well, to be fair, I was just wondering if it came from the Indian side of our family? Let's face it grandad hardly has a nose and dad's parents...well they just look ordinary."
"Ordinary? What are you saying?"
"Their noses are not like ours! You know what I'm saying."

He was chewing as he spoke and saliva ran down his chin. He didn't care about stuff like that when it was just me and him alone. If anyone else had been there he'd have been civilised and you'd have never witnessed any dribble. He was very careful about his appearance.

"Ok. So the pointy nose came from nan's side of the family. So what?" I probed, starting to munch on my own sandwich to quell my aching belly.
"Nina, a girl at school, said my nose was Indian. She said I had a typical Indian nose and maybe I should consider having it reduced when I was older."

It wasn't the most offensive thing she could've said, so I didn't understand why he was getting to upset about it.

"Dan. You're not someone who gives a crap about what people think. You got loads of friends. People love you. Who cares if one mean cow wants to pick on your nose? Surely you could have told her she was fat or something? She counts like a right witch."

At this moment, his eyes seemed bleary. He looked at his hands and twiddled them slowly.

"She is perfect! I always liked her but lately she just stands out more than anyone."
"O...K... Either you like 'em mean or I'm guessing she hasn't always been this harsh?"
"Nah. She used to come to birthdays parties. You've seen her before. WE used to be lab partners. But since September she sticks with her girls and doesn't talk to my mates and me any more. It's like she's become too cool!"

I had to go with my instinct here.
"Too cool for boys? She's probably a lesbian," I laughed.

It didn't go down well. He stormed off, forgetting to be quiet, slamming the door shut and waking mum.

"Get to bed you two!" she yelled from upstairs.

Immediately my mood was darkened. I took a Prozac and went back to my room to sulk.

With a pillow over my head, I lay on my stomach, wondering about what Tom was thinking.

How was I going to get to know him better without coming across as a freak?