Falling Fast - L.S

18

Mum gasped when she saw my tear-stained face and Harry's cut lip. Again, I explained what had happened. Harry stood sullenly beside me, making eye contact with neither of us. It was obvious he couldn't wait to leave. He said goodbye without a kiss. Just squeezed my arm, then went.

I stumbled upstairs while Mum flapped and fussed and ran me a hot bath.

She tried to get me to talk about what had happened at the pub. But beyond reassuring her that I wasn't hurt and that the whole thing had only lasted a couple minutes, I refused to talk.

She left me to get some sleep.

But sleep wouldn't come.

~

The next day was Thursday. I told Mum I couldn't face school.

The truth was, I couldn't face the rehearsal.

Couldn't face Harry.

I had no way of contacting him, I realised. He had no mobile and he'd never given me a home phone number either. He said his family didn't have a phone line.

Yeah, right.

I took this as further proof that he didn't really care about me - and sank into a dark, bottomless misery.

Taylor phoned that evening, but I didn't want to speak to her either. I still felt angry with her for crying all over Harry in the taxi. Perhaps if she hadn't done that, I wouldn't have got so angry myself and...

No. In my heart I knew it wasn't Taylor's fault.

I still didn't want to talk to her, though. She was his Juliet. And I was nothing.

Mum let me stay off school on Friday as well. Normally, I'd see Harry on a Friday evening, but he hadn't called and, anyway, there was no way I could go out with him now. I couldn't bear loving him so much and knowing he didn't feel the same.

I lounged about the house all weekend, hoping that he'd call. Mum started to get seriously worried about me, nagging me to eat and asking why I wasn't going out with Taylor and Gigi. She even suggested that I spoke to a counsellor about the attack at the pub.

I told her I was fine and pretended I was going off to meet Tay.

As I reached the park, Taylor herself rang again. I took the call this time, in case she decided to phone my home number if I didn't.

We chatted for a bit, then Taylor asked how Harry was. I told her I thought things were cooling off between us.

"No way," Taylor said. "I mean I still think he's too intense, but he obviously cares about you. Why else would he have come to our defense like that?"

Because he trains to fight in that boxing club. Because being angry is who he is.

I said nothing. Just ended the call and walked, shivering, round the park. It was a bitterly cold day. The first of December. There would only be a couple more weeks of rehearsals. And then two performances.

Not long to go. Not long before I'd never see Harry again.

Dad was there when I got back from the park. Mum and Lottie went out the room and left us drinking a cup of tea in the kitchen.

We sat in silence for a while. Dad looked so out of place in our house now - with his fuzzy beard and his shapeless cord trousers. It was funny to think he'd once lived here.

"You haven't come to see me for a while," he said.

There was no reproach in his voice. Just a mild curiosity. I said nothing.