CHAPTER 11
Gossip and Lies
Alex knocked on the Sceney’s front door and waited. He had never been to Sarah’s house before. In primary school he’d spent most of his time trying to avoid her, but with the phone calls, notes, letters, poems, rehearsed and impromptu speeches, screensaver messages and compositions — all about him, all about love — it wasn’t easy. It was strange that they only became friends once she started going out with Jimmy. But Anne was right — she was a nice girl. Till last night.
No one answered, and Alex breathed a sigh of relief as he made his way down the stairs. Then he heard the door open. He turned to see a dishevelled-looking girl squinting down at him. He looked twice before he realised it was Sarah.
“Alex.” She sounded surprised.
“Hi Sarah.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to talk to you about … things.”
They went inside. She was still in her Winnie the Pooh pyjamas even though it was almost lunchtime.
“Hard night?” said Alex.
She nodded.
“Where’s your mum?” asked Alex.
“Don’t know. She left a note but I haven’t read it.”
Alex wondered how to begin. He decided for the direct approach. “I saw you kissing Billy last night. Billy Johnstone.”
She blinked, but otherwise her expression didn’t change. If Alex had expected her to break down in tears of guilt, he would have been disappointed.
“Is that what you’ve come to tell me?”
“Well … yeah. And to find out what you’re going to do about Jimmy.”
“Does Jimmy know?”
“Not yet.”
She was quiet for a few moments and Alex could see her mind ticking over. “Don’t tell him anything,” she said.
“I was thinking you’d do it for me.”
She was quiet again.
“Sarah? You’d better tell him.”
“Why?”
“Because …”
“That’s a good reason.”
“Because if you don’t, I will.”
She looked at him and her expression changed. Alex had only seen her mad once before and it wasn’t the best experience of his life.
“Everyone makes mistakes, you know,” she said.
“You cheated on your boyfriend. My best mate. Either you tell him or I will.”
“You’re so gay.”
“What?”
“You heard me. You’re a poof.”
Alex’s right hand made a fist without him realising it. No one said that to Alex Jackson, skateboarder and slayer of the female species. “You had a crush on me for five years, what does that make you?”
She ignored him. “You think you’re good but you’re not. You’re a homo.”
“You’re a two-timing tart.”
Her face instantly tensed and for a second Alex thought she was going to cry. “I’d worry about your own girlfriend if I were you,” she said quietly.
“What?”
“Why don’t you ask her if she likes Italian boys? Especially rich skiers named Roberto.”
“You’re a liar.”
“You ask her if she went skiing with Roberto at his chateau in Switzerland. Or if she rides on the back of his motorbike. I have email too, you know. Maybe she tells me what she doesn’t want you to know?”
Alex wanted to swear at her, hit her, even. But he didn’t. He got up and walked out.
“You don’t like it, do you?” she said to his back. “Well, Jimmy won’t like it either so don’t tell him. He doesn’t need to know.”
Alex had been taught that it was polite to shut the door on your way out. He made sure he was very, very, very polite.