Don't Ask (19 page)

‘S’OK,’ I muttered. ‘You know.’

Mum gave me a reassuring smile and left the room.

‘Come and sit down,’ Jack said. He sat back down in his seat and plumped up the cushions for me. ‘Look, I’m sorry I dropped in without saying anything first. But I
couldn’t get hold of you, and then Katie told me you were ill, and then you texted me, and after that you didn’t call for hours. I was so worried. I thought you must be really
bad.’

‘You shouldn’t have worried,’ I said, avoiding eye contact. ‘I turned my phone off, that’s all.’

Jack held out his hand to me. I pretended not to notice, shifting in my seat. In my head, a little voice asked, is this the same hand he used to hit Alex? I ignored it. Now that I was with Jack,
I wasn’t afraid of him, not really. My discomfort had more to do with my growing conviction that he still loved Alex.

When I didn’t respond to him, Jack reached over and placed his hand over the top of mine, entwining our fingers together. It didn’t feel thrilling, or comforting, like it used to. I
knew that if he had the choice, he’d rather be holding her hand.

‘Something’s wrong,’ he said. ‘I can tell.’

‘No, honest, I’m fine,’ I said. I smiled. ‘So, er, how was football training?’

‘Good. I scored a couple of goals. How was Katie’s sleepover?’

‘Good,’ I said. How lame was this conversation! Jack was usually so easy to talk to. Why couldn’t I think of anything to say? Act normal. Act normal.

‘Oh right. Cool.’ He hesitated. ‘Um, Lil, you don’t seem yourself.’

‘I’ve had a migraine,’ I said. ‘You know that. Sorry.’

‘Yeah, I know, but it’s more than that. It’s not just today, it’s been a few weeks. Something’s up.’

‘No, you’re imagining it.’ I moved my hand away from his, under the pretext that I needed to scratch my nose. Then I remembered seeing a documentary that revealed how touching
your nose is a sure sign of lying, and I dropped it to my lap.

‘Is it because of what I told you?’ he asked.

I shook my head. ‘Don’t be soft. Of course not.’

No, I thought, it’s because of what you
didn’t
tell me. Because you only told me half the story. Because it turns out you’re not the person I thought you were.

We sat in awkward silence. Mum came in with two steaming mugs of tea and set them down on the coffee table. Jack and I both muttered, ‘Thanks,’ then went back to staring into our
laps. As Mum left the room she gave me a concerned glance.

When she was out of earshot, I asked Jack, ‘So why were you trying to call me last night?’

‘I needed to ask you something. I’ve sorted it. It’s not important now.’

‘Oh,’ I said, unsure whether to be relieved or disappointed. All that panic, for nothing.

‘I wasn’t checking up on you, if that’s what you think.’

‘No, course not,’ I said. Why had he said that? Did it mean he really had been checking up on me? I faked a smile. ‘So, everything’s cool then.’

‘Yeah,’ he said, without conviction. He took my hand again and held it to his face. It felt warm and smooth and familiar, and I could feel myself beginning to thaw a little. He drew
me towards him and kissed me gently. You can’t trust him, said a voice in my head, as I started to respond. I tried to ignore it, but the voice grew louder. You can’t trust him.
He’s not the Jack you thought he was. He hit Alex.

‘Not in here,’ I said, pulling away. ‘My parents are in the kitchen. We should drink our tea.’

‘Yeah,’ he said, disappointed. He picked up his mug. I noticed it had a picture of Superman on it.

My tea was still too hot and it burned my lips. I carried on sipping it, anyway. We fell back into silence, occasionally peering up at each other, then looking away.

‘Why don’t we go up to your room?’ Jack asked, eventually.

I shook my head.

‘Not for
that.
I mean we can talk better there.’

‘I don’t know . . .’ I said. I felt safe in the living room, with my parents on the other side of the wall. And I didn’t want to talk to Jack, not now. I wanted him to go
home.

‘It’s not normally a problem, Lil. They know they can trust me, right?’

‘Sure.’ But
I
don’t. I don’t.

‘Come on, then.’ He took both of my hands and got up, pulling me with him. ‘Mr and Mrs Lawton,’ he called out. ‘Is it OK if I go up to Lily’s room for a few
minutes?’

‘That’s fine!’ shouted Mum.

‘The door stays open!’ shouted Dad.

‘Thanks! See,’ Jack said to me, grinning, as if he’d won a little victory. ‘They’re cool with it.’

I didn’t know what to say, so I let him lead me up the stairs and into my bedroom. He sat down on the bed and patted the space next to him, beckoning me to join him. As I approached, I
noticed that my mobile phone was still lying on top of the duvet where I’d left it, which was now right next to Jack’s left leg. He saw it at exactly the same moment.

‘Careful, mind your phone,’ he said, picking it up. He must have touched a key, rousing it from sleep mode, because, with a beep, it leapt back into life. He glanced downwards and I
knew, without looking, that the message from ‘Jared’ was still displayed on the screen.

The world didn’t go into slow motion, like it would have done if this had happened in a film. It skipped a revolution, stopping completely for a second, and then powered back up at double
speed up so it could catch up with itself. At least, that’s what it felt like.

‘Give it here,’ I said, trying to snatch the phone from Jack’s grasp.

Too late. He’d seen it. He looked at the screen again, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he’d read, and then he looked up at me, with sad, uncomprehending eyes.

‘Who’s Jared?’ he asked. He got up from the bed and stood directly in front of me, holding the phone behind his back.

My heart was pounding so fast, the blood racing so fast to my head, that I needed to sit down, but Jack was blocking my way to the bed.

Who was Jared?

‘No one,’ I said. Feeble, but in a way, it was the truth. Jared was nobody: just a name I’d snatched out of the air, a name for the imaginary – and now ex-boyfriend of a
made-up version of myself. And, for simplicity’s sake, ‘Jared’ was also the moniker I’d given Alex in my phone, to prevent her real name ever flashing up or being viewed in
my address book.

Why hadn’t I prepared myself for this possibility? All the times I’d feared being caught out, and yet I hadn’t considered this one. I’d worried about the consequences of
Alex seeing Jack’s name on my phone, and I’d worried about what would happen if Jack saw Alex’s, but I’d never anticipated that Jack might see the name Jared and question
it. What a stupid oversight.

‘Don’t lie to me, Lily,’ Jack said. His tone was flat. ‘Who is he?’

Before I could begin to reply, he peered at the phone again and began to read. ‘Thanks . . . for . . . coming,’ he said, in the slow, deliberate way that people decipher text speak
aloud. ‘Great . . . to . . . see . . . you.’ He paused. ‘Kiss. Kiss. Kiss.’

How could Alex’s innocent thank-you text to all her party guests suddenly sound so dodgy, so incriminating? The three kisses were just a lazy way of signing off, yet Jack made them seem
dirty, nasty, like evidence of cheating. And then it struck me that, technically, I had kissed another guy. I hadn’t wanted to, but I’d done it.

‘Who is he?’ he repeated. ‘What were you doing with him last night, when you said you were at Katie’s? Where were you?’

‘It’s not what you think,’ I said. I felt so light-headed and panicky that I couldn’t process my thoughts. ‘You’ve got it all wrong . . .’

‘You said you had a migraine. I even felt sorry for you. I was worried about you.’

‘I’m sorry,’ I said, unsure what I was apologising for. I didn’t know which words to use next. I had the impression that whatever I came up with, Jack wouldn’t
believe me. What exactly could I say? Not the truth, certainly:
‘Jared isn’t a guy, he’s a girl. And, he isn’t just any girl, he’s really your ex-girlfriend Alex,
whom I’ve been meeting in secret. Oh, and by the way, Alex thinks I’m called Laura. And Laura had a pretend boyfriend called Jared too.’

My real-life story sounded so preposterous that even Jerry Springer wouldn’t contemplate having me on his show to explain it. Then again, maybe it was so ridiculous that nobody could even
have made it up, which meant that Jack would have to believe me. Was this the time to confess everything? How might he react? And what was worse: allowing him to think I’d spent last night
with a guy called Jared and that I’d lied about it, or telling him I’d been deceiving him for months by spending time with his ex-girlfriend?

It came down to this: which would make him more upset? What might make him angrier? Which might make him lose control altogether, like he had with Alex?

‘You’ve got to believe me,’ I said, pleading. ‘I’m not seeing another guy. Jared is just someone who was there last night. That text was sent to everyone, not just
me.’

It wasn’t exactly the truth, but it wasn’t a lie, either.

‘I don’t believe you,’ he said. ‘I want to, but I can’t. Katie was in on it too, wasn’t she? She lied for you. How many other times has she done
that?’

I looked up at him and saw how much pain there was in his eyes, how red his cheeks had grown, and I felt myself begin to tremble. Was this what he looked like when he was about to lash out?

‘You’ve been acting off for weeks and weeks,’ he said. ‘I know there’s something going on. I tell you what, if it’s all so innocent, why don’t we call
Jared back now?’

‘No!’ I cried. My voice came out far louder, far higher pitched than I’d expected. It was such a strong, instinctive reaction that Jack read it as a sure sign of my guilt.
Holding the phone above his head, far out of my reach, he began to attempt to ring ‘Jared’.

‘No!’ I cried again. The thought of what might happen if Alex answered the phone to Jack terrified me so much that I’d have done anything to prevent it. I clambered up on to
the bed and began grasping for the phone, making it impossible for Jack to dial. Eventually, he gave up trying and gripped me by my wrists, in exactly the way Alex had described. Panicking, I tried
to grapple free. I was near the edge of the bed, finding it hard to balance, to right myself.

‘Calm down, Lily,’ Jack said, grasping me tighter. ‘Stop it.’

‘Let go!’

‘Not until you calm down,’ he said. His jaw was clenched tight, his eyes steely.

‘You’re hurting me!’

I put all my strength into one last violent, twisting pull, succeeding in freeing my arms from his grip. But the shock of being released, combined with the unexpected pain of the friction burns
from Jack’s hands, sent me careering off balance. As he let go, I fell sideways from the bed, my arms and legs flailing pointlessly. In the moment before I hit the floor, the corner of the
bedside table came up to meet me. There was sound like snapping wood and I felt a sharp pain in the side of my head.

I lay, dazed, for what felt like minutes, but was probably only a few seconds. My head hurt. I touched it with my fingers and felt wetness. Warm, sticky wetness.

‘Oh my God, Lil, are you OK?’ I looked up to see Jack crouching over me. There was no colour in his face. ‘I tried to stop you falling but you were too quick.’

‘Leave me alone,’ I said, instinctively drawing my knees to my chest. He flinched.

‘Oh God, you’re bleeding. Don’t move, I’ll get help.’

‘Go away,’ I whimpered. ‘Don’t touch me.’

He backed away from me, an expression of utter bewilderment in his eyes. ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry,’ he repeated. ‘I’d never hurt you. It was an accident.
I’ll go and get help.’

He ran into the hall. Simultaneously, I heard my parents rushing up the stairs.

‘We heard a crash,’ said Dad. ‘What’s happened?’

‘There’s been an accident,’ Jack said. ‘It was an accident. Lily fell off the bed. She’s cut her head.’

Mum and Dad pushed past him into the room. ‘Are you OK, Lily?’ Mum asked. I’d managed to drag myself up into a sitting position, but the sensation of blood pumping from my head
was making me feel sick and weak.

‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘I feel a bit strange.’

‘Did you lose consciousness at all?’

‘I’m not sure. I can’t remember. I don’t think so.’

Dad leaned over me. ‘It’s just a little cut,’ he said. ‘Head wounds always bleed a lot. I’m sure it looks a lot worse than it is. But I think we should get you
checked over in case you’re concussed.’

I began to sob. Knowing you have to go to hospital always makes an accident seem more serious, and the shock was wearing off now. Dad stroked my back, while Mum went to find some antiseptic and
a bandage.

Jack hovered by the door. ‘Is she OK?’ he asked, meekly.

‘She’ll be fine,’ said Dad. ‘Don’t worry. You can come in if you like.’

Jack hesitated. He took a step into the room and tried to make eye contact with me, but I couldn’t meet his gaze. He stepped back again. ‘I think I should go,’ he said.
‘I’m just in the way. Tell Lily I hope she’s OK and that I’m sorry.’

‘You can tell her yourself,’ said Dad, puzzled. ‘She’s right here. Come with us to Casualty if you like.’

But Jack was already halfway down the stairs. A second later, we heard the front door slam behind him, and he was gone.