Time after Toby: seven days. Alarm rang at six forty-five. I’d set it in case I somehow slept after four, which didn’t happen. Showered. Dressed in the plainest outfit possible. Picked up my bag from where it’d sat, untouched, for a week in the corner. Headed to the kitchen. Hesitated before walking in. I hadn’t been alone with her, or with Dad. There’d always been someone around. And that had been kind of good.
She was at the table, in her work clothes, holding a mug of tea. She held out an arm to hug me. I let her do it for a moment then pulled away.
‘You sure you’re OK to go back?’ she asked.
Nodded. ‘You?’
‘I’ve got to do something.’
Knew what she meant. Started getting out my breakfast stuff. ‘What about Dad?’
‘Edmund’s going to help him today, get back to work on his sculptures, I guess.’
Poured the cereal, added milk. Far as I knew, Dad hadn’t been back in his studio. The pool area had been locked with a bike chain and padlock since the police took off the tape. I was kinda glad Edmund had stuck around to sleep on the couch.
Made a second bowl of cereal and put it in front of Mum. ‘Where is he?’
‘He and Ed have gone for a walk. Won’t be long. Do you want to wait and say goodbye?’
It was seven twenty-two. I wanted to get to school before the crowd. Walking into the funeral had been bad enough – everyone staring, no escape.
Kissed her on the cheek. ‘Tell him I said bye.’
Everything was weirdly normal as I wheeled my bike out of the shed. From outside I was the same kid who’d ridden to school exactly a week earlier. But some other kid had done three and a bit terms there. Some other kid had spent his lunchtimes running away to hide, as though being bullied was the worst thing that could happen to him.
It was a fifteen-minute ride to school. Time to practise wiping Toby from my thoughts. Practise not attracting attention. Practise keeping my face blank. I was good at the last two. But everyone from school had seen me bawling my eyes out at Toby’s funeral. Little Mummy. There’d be no hiding now.
School was nearly empty. I locked my bike, strolled through deserted corridors, opened my locker with a clang that echoed along the hall. Dumped my pack on the ground and started unloading.
‘Jarrah?’
Spun around to face Laura Fieldman and two of her long-legged friends. They must have been casing my locker, waiting. This had to be bad.
‘We’re so sorry about your brother, Jarrah.’ Laura came closer and put her hand on my arm. The two girls behind her, whose names I hazily thought were Jade and Eve or Evelyn or something, were nodding with the same sympathetic looks on their faces that everyone in the world now used on me.
‘It must be so awful for you. I can hardly imagine. But Jarrah, we’re here for you, OK?’
‘Um. Right.’
‘D’you want to come and sit with us till the bell?’
‘OK.’
It felt like a set-up. Gathered up my books and shoved my bag in the locker. Laura linked her arm in mine and led me down the hall and the other girls followed us out to one of the desirable alcoves that lined the playground. Laura pulled me down next to her.
‘We copied some notes so you can catch up,’ she said. ‘I mean, like I’m sure they’ll make allowances for the exams, but it might help.’
‘Yeah,’ I said.
I don’t remember what else we talked about until the bell rang. The only clear thing was Laura looking at me with her deep brown eyes, saying, ‘You’re so brave.’
Maybe I was wrong. Maybe it wasn’t a set-up. I’d expected Laura to lead me to the pack, to be torn to bits. But she and her friends stuck to me the whole day. Lots of the girls in the class, and even a few of the boys, came up throughout the day to add to the sympathy. People I’d never spoken to – whose names I didn’t know – hugged me, or patted my back or my shoulder. Dave and his creepy mates ignored me. Billy, previously the closest thing I’d had to a friend, came up at lunchtime.
‘Hi, Jarrah,’ he mumbled, red-faced.
I hadn’t heard anything after the one text, though I’d seen him at the funeral. I’d presumed he had no idea what to say to me. I’d have been the same, in his position.
‘Hi, Billy.’
He looked helplessly at the girls flanking me. ‘Um, how’s it going?’
‘OK.’
There was an awkward silence as we both realised he couldn’t hitch a lift with me on this rise in importance. Laura and co had taken me and left him behind, and that was it.
‘I’ll see you round,’ he said at last.
‘Yeah, good,’ I said. We looked at each other a bit desperately, but I couldn’t help him. Later, when things went back to normal, I’d find him again.
Geography. Fifth period meant it was now more than a week since Toby died. If I clenched my jaw as hard as I could and stared at my textbook, I wouldn’t cry. It was like walking a tightrope. I didn’t have any brain left over to think about igneous rocks. Just enough to think this about Laura and her friends: they were enjoying my tragedy. Not in a cruel way – they really were sad for me – but they liked the attention. Briefly, I was the most important kid in the school.
When the last bell went, Laura came with me to my locker and watched while I stuffed things into my bag. ‘You live near me, don’t you? How do you get home?’
‘Bike,’ I said.
‘Why don’t you come on the bus tomorrow? I get the seven forty-five. I can save you a seat.’
I nodded in a vague kind of way that didn’t promise anything.
‘I’ll see you tomorrow, Jarrah.’ She stepped close and, before I realised what she was doing, leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. ‘Bye,’ she murmured.
I still felt like a million invisible eyes were watching, so I didn’t touch my cheek or stare after her in shock. I moved things around in my locker for a few minutes and then closed it, hitched my pack over my shoulder, and headed towards the bike racks, keeping my head down so I didn’t have to look at anyone. I couldn’t stand any more sympathy.
On the way home it felt good to stand up on the pedals and use my whole weight to shove the bike in the direction I was riding. In a week or two, I reckoned, everyone at school would be back to normal. I’d be back eating lunch with Billy in some place no one could see us. It was like a swap-card craze, or when someone broke an arm. For a few days or weeks no one could talk or think about anything else, and then suddenly it was all over. That would be me. Laura and her friends would forget me, and I’d sink back to my normal level.
In the meantime, I guess it kind of took my mind off things.
Kind of.