Crashing Down (20 page)

Lucy nods. Mr Tan has his arm around her again, holding her up against the attack. Lucy is shaking. Now everyone knows about the pregnancy, the baby. She looks at Mr Tan fearfully. What will he think of her?

‘You know what?' he says, like he hasn't heard any of the words. ‘Shit happens.'

She wants to smile, is frightened of crying, but then laughs lightly. And so does Mr Tan.

‘Time to celebrate,' he says. ‘Go talk to your friends. Don't let an old man like me monopolise you.'

Lucy slides into the vacant chair next to JD. ‘So how are you, really?' she asks.

‘Weird,' he says. ‘Saw the funeral on live stream — you did well. I wanted to be there, but no way would they let me out. It's been an effort to get this far.' He shrugs.

Lucy nods. It's the first time she has stood in this hall since the night of the accident — the night Carl left the ball and didn't come back. It was confronting to walk through those doors, remembering how last time she passed through them she was furious with him for leaving her and formulating the big break-up speech in her head. One she never had to deliver.

‘It's like being numb. Like having thoughts but not feeling them. Like I've been decapitated.' Her hand flies to her mouth in horror when she realises what she's said. ‘Oh, JD, I'm so sorry. That was such a Lydia thing to say'

He laughs. ‘Don't be. I'm lucky I wasn't. If that car seat hadn't broken, I might well have lost my head. Where is Lydia anyway?' JD asks. ‘Wouldn't
mind saying hi. Haven't seen her since hospital.'

‘She came to the hospital?' Lucy frowns. ‘She never said.'

He gives a limited shrug. ‘Came a lot.'

Lucy smiles. She'd always known Lydia had a crush on JD — but to visit him and not say? Sneaky little cow.

‘What's happening for you with the exams?' Lucy says, knowing the great importance they have for him. He has worked harder than anyone else to get into uni.

‘Got a scholarship,' he says proudly. ‘Based on my average.'

‘Awesome! You deserve it. Well done. Engineering?'

‘As planned,' JD says. ‘I'm inscrutable. Must be the Chinese in me.'

‘You're Vietnamese,' Lucy says.

‘Whatever — still an Asian.' He winks at her. ‘What about you?'

‘I'll get a score from Curriculum Council,' she says. ‘Hopefully enough to get me in.'

‘It will be, if it's your average,' JD says.

‘Oh,' she says as she gets up to leave, ‘you need
to know I will have beaten you again, despite everything.'

‘How?'

‘Lit — Highest Achieving Student.' She points at herself.

‘You were always going to be,' JD says. ‘Poor Asian kid never stood a chance.'

She laughs. ‘Poor Asian! Give it a rest.' She sees a peacock parade of her friends. ‘I'll go get Lydia.'

‘Oh my God,' Lydia says, ‘you look so beautiful.' She wraps her arms around Lucy and hugs her tightly.

‘So do you,' Lucy says.

‘You're so thin,' Georgia says, ‘but totally hot.'

Lucy nods — she is the thinnest she's been since she was twelve. After the miscarriage, it took a few weeks for her boobs to understand, but eventually they reverted to their normal size. The rest of her body was thinner than ever. None of her clothes fit, which was ironic, given she'd recently been pregnant.

‘Pumped,' Lydia shouts loudly and everyone laughs.

‘JD's looking for you,' Lucy says.

‘Really?' Lydia's eyes widen. ‘Where is he? Is he here?' She sounds so excited and then tries to tone it down. ‘I mean, I didn't know he'd be here. Didn't that kid break his neck or something?'

Lucy laughs at her transparency. ‘Yeah — he's over there, waiting for you to visit him.'

Lydia pushes her hair back and starts to head over.

Lucy shouts after her, ‘Like you did in hospital!' She's sure she sees Lydia teeter slightly on her heels.

The lights dim and soft music plays. The principal, Mr Criddle, takes to the stage and speaks into the mike, asking everyone to take their seats. Lucy sits between her mum and dad. Over the aisle are the Kapulettis. Mrs K stares blankly ahead.

Mr Criddle begins. ‘Welcome to the Graduating 12s of McCauley High. It gives me great pleasure to present them to you in alphabetical order. Andy Andrews.'

As Andy steps on to the stage, a school photo from Year 1 flashes up on the screen, followed by his Year 12 picture. The difference is phenomenal — he has gone from a freckly, toothless cherub to a lean and angular ranga. The crowd laughs; some of the
parents
awwwww
in unison.

Name after name, face after face, then ‘Carl Kapuletti' and on the slide are the two pictures of Carl. There is a murmur in the crowd. Lucy looks down, feels most eyes on her. Mr K steps on to the stage, shakes the principal's hand as Mr Criddle goes in for a hug — awkward moment — then he steps off, holding Carl's certificate in his hand, tears glistening in his eyes.

Mr Criddle continues calling names: ‘… and JD — Douglas — Tan.'

Ben walks on to the stage. He says something to the principal, who nods, and Ben steps up to the mike. Everyone looks around in surprise. What is Ben doing?

‘I just want to take a minute to acknowledge our mate JD,' Ben says, gesturing towards where JD sits in the front row, harnessed into his metal frame. ‘It's been a tough year for us all. Carl is no longer here. And the only way this situation could've been any worse is if this little guy hadn't pulled through, too. But he did. And I want to ask for a minute of silence to acknowledge Carl and JD and the time we've all gone through.'

Most people bow their heads. Lucy stares at her shoes. It had to be said. The elephant in the room had to be acknowledged.

Ben breaks the silence. ‘Before I go, can I just share with you something JD told me when he was in rehab? He told me to appreciate the little things in life. That you have no idea how hard it is to take a piss when you've got a broken neck and someone holding a bottle.'

Everyone erupts in laughter. Ben has successfully eased the tension. He returns to his seat, only to bob up three people later to collect his own certificate. The principal won't let him speak again — instead, hurries him off the stage.

And finally her name is called: ‘Lucy Wishart.' She gets up, smiles at Mum and Dad, passes in front of JD, who makes to touch her arm, and on to the stage. Now every single pair of eyes in the room is on her (with the exception of the Physics teacher, Mr Sims, who has nodded off) and she feels nervous. She's not sure what to expect — loud boos, rotten tomatoes? Instead she gets applause — as loud as anyone else's, maybe even louder — and then she hears a
woohoo.
It's her mum. She glances at them.
Dad is frowning at Mum for misbehaving; Mum is giving her
WTF
look and laughing. Lucy shakes the principal's hand and steps down.

High school complete. It is actually, finally and totally over.

Over the next four weeks, everyone is studying for the exams. Lucy monitors their progress on Facebook. Study sessions at the local library, pictures of books scattered on the floor and captions that read ‘The Ultimate Torture — thanks, Curriculum Council.' It's hard not to feel left out, despite knowing there was no way she could have crammed, and retained, any knowledge. She feels ripped off — but also liberated.

She is glad she has her twice-weekly sessions with Diane. She goes on her own — drives the thirty minutes to her office in Subiaco and reads five-year-old magazines as she waits. The sessions are painful, teary and traumatic and then, slowly, cathartic and
calming. She talks; Diane listens and then offers her thoughts.

‘What you've endured is a lifetime of emotional trauma crammed into a few months. You need to take credit for the strength you have. And utilise the support that is offered. You had to make certain decisions — you did, whether they were fulfilled or not. You have to take courage in your convictions and accept that we can't control everything in life, only those things within our control. At the end of the day, do you consider you would have done anything differently?'

Lucy frowns. What would she have done differently? Had she known Carl would leave and smash the car, she would never have fought with him. Had she known telling him about the baby might have precipitated high blood pressure, bursting an artery, she would not have told him. Had she known the Kapulettis would seek a legal injunction, she wouldn't have revealed the pregnancy at all. But at the time she hadn't known the outcomes — and, as Diane said, those outcomes were beyond her control.

‘No,' she says finally, and then pauses. ‘Yes.
There is one thing I would change: my part in the contraception.'

‘How?'

‘I wouldn't have left it up to him. I would have made sure that even though we were using condoms, I was on the pill — or an IUD. I would have taken my own steps to prevent the pregnancy.'

‘Would you have abstained from sex — now, in retrospect?'

Lucy thinks this through. She and Carl had been seeing each other for months before he even remotely started pressuring her to take it further. And
pressuring
made it sound so heavy-handed. It wasn't. It was just that they were both seventeen, both virgins, and in a relationship that seemed solid. The pressure was driven from desire, not force. It was that little bit further each time. She had wanted it, too. He wanted it so much — they both acknowledged that — but in the back of her mind was always the fear of pregnancy.
So why didn't she go on the pill?
Embarrassment? Acknowledgement that she was now ‘sexually active', as the Health Ed teacher put it? It all seemed so awkward. But given the circumstances that followed, she'd face that
embarrassment and awkwardness in a heartbeat if it meant never having to go through what she had — telling her parents, friends, Carl, his parents, doctors, lawyers, judges, abortionists.

‘No,' she says eventually. ‘I think what we did was okay. It's what we didn't do that was the problem.'

‘What about in the future?'

‘Who knows?' Lucy says. ‘If you mean with a new boyfriend, that's just not something I can even consider at the moment. But I know I'll never put myself in that position again.'

‘Leavers soon?'

‘Next week. Exams are finished. Everyone is pumped. I feel a bit out of the loop. I don't have the same experiences to share. I'm kinda worried I don't belong.'

‘But you do,' Diane says firmly. ‘Your phone beeps every minute to say you have a text as you sit here. You're on Facebook and Messenger every night. You do still belong.'

‘I guess,' Lucy says, considering it. In all this time, her friends, especially Carl's, have never forgotten her. Never left her out.

‘Enjoy it. I'll see you for a catch-up when you get
back. But I don't think you're going to need me much more. I think you've figured it out.'

Those words cause an element of panic in Lucy. ‘But what if I do need you?'

‘Then you come in, but I don't think you will have to,' Diane says. ‘People tell you it takes x amount of time to grieve for this or that — it's not true. It takes you as long as it takes you. And that is not to be judged or assessed.'

‘Thank you,' Lucy says, rising. ‘This has been so helpful.'

‘You'll be okay,' Diane says, hugging her.

Lydia's pink Barina flies into the driveway. Lucy peers out of her window. Lydia is in a hurry, she thinks, watching her leap from the car, catch her skirt in the door and then fumble with her keys to unlock it and detangle herself. She's comical to watch and Lucy holds on to the edge of the window, laughing. Lydia runs up the driveway and Lucy hears her enter the house.

‘Hello,' she calls.

‘In my room.' Lucy folds the last of her clothes into a bag. Packed and ready to load.

‘Oh my God.' Lydia barrels through the doorway. ‘You're not going to believe what I've done!' She's out of breath, her cheeks are pink and she is in true
Lydia panic mode.

‘Give it a go,' Lucy says, amused. There is nothing in this world Lydia could do that she wouldn't believe.

‘Oh my God.' Lydia is flapping her hands around and walking in circles. ‘Oh my God.'

‘Go on,' Lucy says, ‘spit it.'

‘You may not know this' — Lydia averts her eyes to the ceiling — ‘but I visited JD in hospital.'

‘Yes.' Lucy nods.

‘And then after the graduation, he, well, then, he well …' Her hands are flapping madly.

‘Asked you out?' Lucy offers.

‘Yes. Oh my God, I need to sit down.' She plonks herself on the edge of the bed. ‘I am the stupidest person in the whole world.'

‘Probably not the
whole
world.' Lucy laughs.

‘Shut up, listen. Have you ever been to his house before?'

‘The Taj Mahal?' Lucy says, thinking of the pre-funeral conference there.

‘I don't know its name, but it's, like, the biggest house in the whole world.' Lydia slows down.

‘Yep, it's huge,' Lucy agrees.

‘Anyway, I go there yesterday for this date. Because JD can't go out, right?'

‘Yesterday!' Lucy says. ‘And you wait all this time to tell me?'

‘I couldn't tell anyone.' Lydia starts flapping her hands again. She pauses and breathes deeply. ‘So I get there and it's this huge lunch. Like, heaps of his relos from China who are over at the moment.'

‘Vietnam,' Lucy says.

‘Whatever.' Lydia puts a hand to her cheek. ‘Oh my God, I'm so friggin' hot. I think I might die.'

‘Keep going,' Lucy says.

‘So, like, I'm out in the garden and I'm talking to JD and it's, like, a hundred degrees, so I'm drinking heaps of water. And then I'm busting for the loo and I ask him where it is.' Lydia presses both her hands to her cheeks. ‘So he says upstairs on the left. So I go up and find the room and I go in and lock the door, but there's no toilet — just a sink attached to the wall and a mirror and towels, right?'