Saving Death

Chapter 11

"So, your dad kept it a secret?" Louisa asked, running her hand along the dashboard. I watched as she craned around to look in the back of the car and then turn back and open the sunshield at the front. She adjusted the tiny mirror and wiped something from the corner of her mouth.

"Uh-huh. I had no idea," I said.

"So apparently trying to kill yourself works a treat. Maybe I should try it with my mum."

I glanced over at Louisa through narrowed eyes. "I did not try to kill myself."

"Then what were you trying to do?"

"I was trying to have fun for once," I huffed. "It just went wrong."

"Alright, cool it, drama queen. You're not the only one with a dead parent." She laughed under her breath and gave me a sideways glance. Shaking my head in distaste, I pulled into the college carpark. It was almost pitch black, even though it was still early evening, but I managed to find a space near the back of the carpark underneath some huge oaks whose roots had broken through the tarmac.

"So, have you spoken to Zac?" Louisa asked, gathering her things from the foot-well. During our conversation in the hospital, I'd told Louisa about kissing Zac and owned up to how I really felt. She hadn't been surprised.

"We messaged a few times." I shrugged. "Nothing serious. He just keeps apologising. I haven't brought up... you know."

We climbed out of the car into the night air and walked to the sports hall where the bands would be playing. Other students were queuing up outside the double doors to buy tickets, but, thankfully, Louisa had had the hindsight to buy them the week before, so we casually made our way past them towards the doors.

The heat hit us as we came into the entrance hall, and I could hear the thud of music ahead, even though the concert wasn't due to start yet. They must be getting in a few last-minute practises before the competition, I thought. I slid my coat gingerly over my injured arm and proceeded to pass it to the cloakroom staff in exchange for a pink ticket, which I stuffed in my back pocket.

Louisa had sloped off and was waving through the glass windows at someone. She'd taken her coat off too, but looked quite the opposite of me—grown up. She was wearing black skinny-jeans, ankle boots and a red camisole. No wonder Blake found it acceptable to date her. She looked like an adult, whereas I barely looked my age in my jeans and converse. Feeling self-conscious, I swept my hair round to one side in an attempt to look a little more feminine next to Louisa. I was glad I'd at least gone to the effort of putting in some earrings.

"Who are you waving to?" I said, moving beside her.

"Zac," she said, pointing into the dark room. "He's over by the stage."

I squinted into hazy, smoke filled room and could just make out Zac. He was standing with a small group of other boys from our year group in college and was indicating for us to come in.

"Come on," Louisa said, pushing the doors open.

As we approached, I could see that the stage was littered with wires which trailed off to various amps and microphones. At the back, there was a drum kit and in the middle of the stage, there was a boy with long blonde hair leaning over a bass guitar. His fringe kept flopping over his face so that he had to keep blowing it away as he plugged in various wires to the base of his instrument.

"You made it," Zac grinned, giving us both a bear hug. "I wasn't sure you'd be allowed out. Especially seeing as I'm such a bad influence," he said, leaning over to me with a dry smile.

"Yeah, I didn't exactly mention you'd be here," I said, returning his smile. I was glad he was happy. He'd spent most of the week messaging me and apologising, but, it seemed, he'd finally got the message that it was just as much my fault as his.