Everything Left Unsaid (5 page)

The day after Tai’s scan he doesn’t show up at the bus stop. I spend the day going from class to class and it keeps me occupied enough to push Tai to the back of my mind for a while, into that holding place of Things To Think About Later. Gen, Lina and Rae have just booked their schoolies accommodation at a high-rise down the coast, and the conversation keeps me distracted. Tai and I have a brilliant plan to book one of the last-minute mystery hotel deals to save ourselves some cash, and I’m crossing my fingers that wherever we get is within walking distance of the girls. Gen spends half of lunchtime explaining her theory that they try to cram as many schoolies into the smallest number of high-rises as possible, so we’ll probably be able to wave at each other from our balconies.

That night Tai still hasn’t texted me, and he doesn’t answer his phone when I ring. I don’t know what it means, but it makes me feel sick and afraid and angry all at once. Finally I call his house.

‘Hello?’

‘Hendrix? Hey, it’s Juliet. Is Tai there?’

‘Oh, hi Juliet. Yeah, he’s here, but he’s in his room and Mum said I’m not allowed to annoy him. Dad said he’s got a . . . um . . . tumour in his brain and the reason Tai looks funny is because he’s been crying.’

My heart seems to stop beating. ‘Are you sure, Hendrix? About – about the tumour?’ The word sounds clumsy in my mouth.

‘Yeah, and now Tai’s allowed to eat dessert instead of dinner and turn his music up loud.
And
Mum doesn’t even care that it has swears in it.’

‘I see.’ But I don’t, not really.

‘And I didn’t have to go to my swimming lesson, because Mum was still at the doctor with Tai, so Grandma Eve picked us up from school and took us to Maccas. I have to go now, Juliet – River’s touching my stuff. Bye.’

There’s a click in my ear and then the disconnection tone. I wish Tai would call me. I don’t know what to think. I text him, again and again, but he doesn’t reply. I’m scared for him, and I don’t know what to do about it.

• • •

Tai doesn’t turn up at school the next day, and only sends a single, solitary text in response to my frantic messages.

Sorry, girl. I’ll talk to you soon.

The hurt that has been lurking underneath the fear is closer to the surface now; I don’t know why he can’t talk to me, why he
won’t
talk to me.

‘Have you and Tai had a fight?’ Mum asks gently that afternoon, and after a moment I nod. It’s not true, but I almost wish it was because the silence between us seems worse.

Gen asks me the same question on the phone that night. ‘What’s up with you, Juliet? Are you and Tai fighting or something?’

‘No, it’s not like that. He’s not talking to me, but that’s not the problem.’

‘Wait. He’s not talking to you, and that’s not a problem?’

‘No, that’s not
the
problem. Not the biggest one, anyway.’

‘I’m completely lost right now.’

‘Tai . . . he’s sick.’

‘The cough? I thought that was gone.’

‘No, not that. He’s got a brain tumour, Gen.’

‘Oh my god! Is it . . . bad?’

‘I don’t know. He won’t talk to me. Hendrix told me when I called his house.’ I try to swallow the sob rising in my throat. ‘Why won’t he talk to me, Gen?’

• • •

The third day after the scan Tai turns up at school. He’s late, but he nonchalantly hands the teacher his yellow late slip and slides into the chair beside me like nothing’s wrong. Tai’s forgotten, though, that I know him. And even without that conversation with Hendrix, I’d still be able to pick that everything’s wrong and nothing is right. I can spot the cracks in his facade. His eyes, smudgy underneath, like more has kept him up than studying for the bio exam today. And his fingers, drumming on the desk, a little too relentlessly. He catches me looking at him and smiles. I smile back. If he wants to pretend that nothing’s wrong, well, two can play that game.

After home class, the seniors are called to a special assembly in the school hall. We sit there and listen, or at least pretend to, as they explain for the hundredth time how to apply for uni. Tai’s next to me still, but he’s mucking around now, flicking bits of paper at his mates, using a ruler for leverage. One of the teachers comes over to tell him off, reminding him that this is
important information for your future
. I’m watching everything, watching the smart-arsed reply lurking behind his lips, when Tai’s eyes catch mine, and his sarkiness turns to horror as he realises I know.
I know
.

The look on his face brings tears to my eyes, and I jump up and flee the room. It’s only a matter of minutes before Tai finds me, like I know he will. He sits beside me at one of the tables that overlook the oval practice field and shifts uncomfortably as he tries to find the words. I run my fingers along the graffiti people have scratched into the wood, trying desperately to swallow the lump in my throat.

‘Shit, Juliet. Hendrix said you called but I never realised he would’ve . . . shit. You must hate me. I never texted you back or anything. I just – couldn’t. I didn’t know how to tell you. Sorry.’

I shrug.

‘The scan showed a tumour. A pretty big one, apparently.’ He draws a deep breath, like he’s steeling himself to go on. ‘They don’t know yet whether it’s the bad kind or not. They want to do a biopsy – stick a needle in and take out a piece of the tumour to test it. It’s just . . . weird. You know? Like it’s not real.’

I’m crying now, huddling into his shirt and staining it with teary mascara tracks. Tai’s stroking my hair, telling me how he was awake most of the night, wondering how the fuck he could have something growing in his brain and have no idea.

The idea of going back to the assembly seems absurd, so we grab our bags from our lockers and walk out the school gates. We’re mostly silent, though I ask a few questions. When is the biopsy? When do you get the results of that? How freaked out are your olds? What happens now, Tai?

He tells me the biopsy is next week; they’ll get the results a few days after. His olds are as stressed as it comes. He has no answer for my last question.

We head back to my place, knowing Mum will be at work. I pinch some of her vodka, pour it into two tumblers, and hand one to Tai. If we were grown-ups I suppose I’d make us cups of tea and say sensible, soothing things, but neither of us drinks tea, and I can’t think of anything comforting to say, so vodka and silence will have to do.

We sit together on the lounge, sipping our drinks, and trying to hide our despair from each other. Eventually Tai says he has to leave; he doesn’t want his olds to worry if he’s late home.

He picks up his schoolbag and we walk slowly to the front door, pausing in the kitchen. I feel the tears welling up, but before I can say anything Tai has grabbed a pen off the bench. ‘Here. Give me your arm.’ He draws a little outline of a heart in black Sharpie. ‘Here’s that tattoo you’ve always wanted.’

I take the pen from him. ‘Let me do you.’

He holds out his arm but I shake my head. ‘Not there.’ I lift up a corner of his school shirt and draw a heart just above his hipbone. Then I kiss him goodbye.

Once he’s gone I grab my phone; it’s been beeping and my guess is it’s Gen, wondering why I disappeared. I’m right, too.

Hey. What was that about at assembly? You ok?

I can’t answer her, not yet, because even if I could press my shaky fingers onto the right buttons at the right time I’m not sure I want to.

By the time Mum gets home from work I’m in the bath. She knocks on the bathroom door, calling my name.

‘I’m in the bath, Mum.’ I’m hoping my voice doesn’t crack and betray me.

‘I talked to Mia today, baby. I’m so sorry. Can I come in?’

I don’t answer and she takes it as a yes.

‘You know,’ she says, sitting on the edge of the bath, ‘it might turn out to be nothing.’

‘How can it, Mum?’

‘No-one knows yet what kind of tumour it is,’ she reminds me.

‘No, but Tai said it was big and that’s got to be bad, right?’

‘Not always. And Tai’s young and healthy – that’ll be in his favour.’

‘He said they might have to operate, or maybe even do chemo.’

‘It might be the quickest and easiest way of treating it, Juliet.’

‘It’s not fair.’

There’s silence for a while, and then Mum says quietly, ‘No, it’s not.’

Later that night I get a lecture on not wagging school and not being alone in the house with Tai drinking vodka – Mum has seen the two glasses in the sink. It’s strangely comforting. Lectures like this are normal, and nothing else about today has seemed normal.

Mum is waiting by the door when I get home, as if she’s been watching for me.

‘Juliet didn’t take the news well, I see.’ She points at my school shirt, covered in streaky patches of eyeliner and mascara.

‘No. Not really.’ I walk into the kitchen in desperate need of food. Mum follows behind; she’s not done yet.

‘Take your shirt off and I’ll soak it straight away.’

She holds out her hand, so I take off my blazer and unbutton my shirt.

‘What is
that
?
’
Mum points at my hipbone, at the heart drawn there.

‘Oh, that – Juliet drew it.’

‘Why is she drawing on body parts that are usually covered by clothes?’ Mum gives me one of those deathly parent looks reserved for situations like this.

I just shrug.

‘Tai, are you having sex with Juliet?’

‘What? No.’

I’m saved when River runs into the kitchen, Hendrix right behind him.

I make my escape.

• • •

Later that night, after my brothers have gone to bed, Mum sends Dad in to talk to me. He sits on the edge of my bed, staring at the stuff on my walls, looking like he’s wandered in here for no reason.

‘Um . . . Dad? Can I help you?’

He launches into an awkward speech about how bad news and health scares make people reckless and impulsive, about not doing things I’ll regret when this is all over. Eventually he runs out of steam, looks at me and shrugs, like,
That’s all I’ve got
.

‘Um, yeah. Okay. I’ll remember that.’

He stands up to go, but when he gets to the doorway he looks back at me. ‘
Are
you having sex, Tai?’

‘No. Now please go away.’

‘Are you okay, Tai?’

I shrug. ‘I guess.’

When he’s gone I stretch out on the bed, don’t care that I’m starting to fall asleep with my clothes on, my teeth not brushed, but then I see my phone out of the corner of my eye and remember I promised Juliet I’d text her.

I don’t really want to talk about the tumour, don’t want to ask her if she’s stopped crying yet or just wants to fall in bed and stay there for a couple of days like I do. So instead I tell her about how Mum saw the heart and the lecture Dad gave me, how I’m mentally scarred by his examples of being
physically intimate
with someone without actually having sex. She tells me about how her mum saw the two glasses in the sink, how that ended up in a lecture too.

I’m going to run out of credit soon
, I warn her.
Goodnight, girl
.

Wish things were different
, she replies.
I’m scared for you
.

I don’t know what to say, so I hit the button to put my phone on silent and pretend I’ve run out of credit. She’s not the only one who’s scared. And if that’s not bad enough, there’s the way everyone
looks
at me, like they’re constantly trying not to cry. And Juliet . . . she’s just exhausting, even though I know she doesn’t mean to be like that. Her fear overshadows everything, including my own feelings about it. Hendrix and River are the only ones acting half normal, and that’s just because they’re too little to really understand. My phone starts glowing beside me, and I flip it over so I can’t see the screen.

• • •

In the morning, Mum knocks on my door and tells me it’s time to get ready for school. I ignore her and roll over, eyes still closed. A little while later she knocks again. ‘Tai, you’re going to be late.’

I hear my door open and look around to see River flying at me, landing on the bed with a soft thud.

‘Get up, Tai, you’re missing breakfast and Hendrix is using all of the milk on
his
cereal.’ He’s as indignant as he can be in rumpled Superman pyjamas, undies pulled over the top.

Mum appears in the doorway. ‘You feel okay, Tai?’

‘Yeah. Fine. I just . . . I really don’t want to go to school today. Do I have to?’

‘You can have today off. But just today, okay?’

‘Okay. Thanks, Mum.’

‘Do I have to go to school today?’ River looks up at her hopefully.

‘Yes. Go and brush your teeth and get dressed.’

‘You’re so . . .
mean
.’

‘I know. Go do your teeth.’ Mum hustles River out the door and closes it behind her, and I close my eyes and go back to sleep. When I wake up again, River and Hendrix are at school, and Mum and Dad are sitting in the kitchen, just staring at each other. I announce I’m going to the beach, pull boardies on, grab my keys, and head out the door.

The beach is deserted, only a lone seagull and a couple of oldies wobbling about, up to their knees in the water. They say something in greeting as I walk past, and I smile back, but I haven’t heard a word they said. The water is freezing, but I don’t care, diving in headfirst and staying under until my lungs protest, letting the waves throw me around. All I can see is blue. My mouth tastes of salt, and I feel like I could swim forever, surrounded by the blue. Eventually though, I swim with the waves, letting them push me all the way back onto the sand, and sit on the beach for a while. I’m practically covered in sand, on my skin, in my mouth, in my hair. I shower away the salt, wash the sand off my legs, out of my hair, rub the spot where a headache is lingering without even thinking about doing it.
Fuck
. That’s it, that’s the tumour – it’s real and it’s there.

I’m walking back home when I see a girl coming the other way. I see her iPod and a huge can of Red Bull clutched by this little hand with black fingernails before I realise it’s Juliet heading towards me, wearing the hoodie she borrowed off me last week, before all of this happened, back when everything was normal still. She’s wearing her sunglasses and I’m glad I can’t see her eyes. I know she’ll look like she’s been crying all night.