Goldfish (17 page)

Suddenly there's a bang as the door is flung open and we all recoil from a blinding flashlight. The pressure in my head gets worse; I can feel my pulse thumping in my neck, and I'm sliding farther, 'til I'm practically on the floor. Roman, Pete, and Gabe all look oddly far away, Pete's lips move, but I can't hear what he's saying. There's a rushing noise in my ears, and blackness creeps in at the edges of my vision to meet in the middle.

 

chapter 26

I wake up suddenly with a strange pressure on my chest. I can't move my arms. There's a rustling noise when I try. I realize it's because I've been the victim of a brutally hard tucking-in.

Why am I in the hospital?

I turn my head and see Mom. She's rummaging through her bag and looks like she's been crying. Lav is standing behind her, unrecognizably serious with faint mascara streaks down her cheeks. She catches my eye, and her eyes widen with surprise. What is going on?

Mom's head jerks up and she gasps at the sight of me.

“Oh, Lou!” She bends down to the bed and hugs me tightly. “What were you doing?” she breathes into my hair. She's gripping me hard, angry with relief. I haven't seen her like this since I was seven and decided to snooze in the garage for a few hours without telling anyone.

Mom doesn't let go and I'm breathing in her shampoo smell. I'm remembering the aquarium bit by bit.

“Where's my phone?” I ask stupidly.

“You're not getting that back in a hurry,” comes a grim voice from the other side of the room. I've never heard Dad sound so strict. When I turn my head to look at him, my neck feels stiff and tender.

“I'm sorry I sneaked out.” I can't keep turning my head to talk to Mom
and
Dad, so I address Dad and squeeze Mom's hand. “It wasn't Laverne's fault. I just needed to help the boys with their swim training.”

“Was that it?” Mom asks.

“Yes, of course!”

“Of course nothing!” Mom's temper flares up. “You were found in a broom closet with two older boys and a man who left school last year. You were unconscious and covered in bruises! We had no idea what had happened!”

I touch my face. It feels puffy and hard, and even lifting my hand sends shooting pains down my side.

“Do you want a mirror?” Lav asks.

Dad clears his throat. Lav and Mom look over at him. He obviously doesn't think this is a good idea.

Lav makes the decision and hands me a little compact mirror from her handbag. I put it up to my face and then angle it down to see my neck and shoulders. The cuts and bruising don't stop. My face is black and blue. I have a cut lip and strange marks all over me. It looks like I've been fighting wild animals.

Shark! That makes me remember the shark, and I shiver.

“Are you OK?” Mom is watching me warily.

“Mom, this is all my fault.”

“None of this is your—”

“No, I mean it
really
is—I snuck out, I fell off the garbage can,” I say, pointing at my shoulder. “Then I tripped over a bike in the back yard, then at the aquarium I fell over and head-butted one of the tanks. I know I look like a horror film, but no one
hurt
me. This is all incredible clumsiness.”

Lav is watching me, her mouth twitching as she fights a grin.

Mom still looks grim.

“Blame an upside-down bike if you want to blame someone.”

Mom shoots a look at Dad, who protests. “How did this become
my
fault?”

“Are the boys in trouble?” I ask.

“Yes,” the three of them reply in unison.

“Can I have my phone?”

“No.”

“But…”

“NO.”

“I need to speak to Roman, Gabe, and Pete! I'm coaching them for
Britain's Hidden Talent
, and the tryouts are days away.…” I trail off because Dad is shaking his head, eyes closed.

“No, Lou, there'll be no
Britain's Hidden … Thing
. The boys will be lucky if they're not expelled, or worse.”

Cold and hot runs through me. I feel weak, like the last bit of hope just leaked away. This isn't going to be all right, is it? Everything's ruined.

 

chapter 27

Lou, hon, are you OK? We heard you got ARRESTED with Ro Garwood and Pete Denners, that can't be true, is it?!! Want to meet up after swimming training this week? All the girls were saying that we should because we haven't seen you in AAAGES!

Nic xx

Hi Lou, I just wanted to get in touch to see if you're OK. Call me if you'd like to talk, I can't imagine how you're feeling but I can listen.

Cammie says hi.

Melia x

Girls, this is Lou's mom. I have her phone until further notice.

The hospital discharges me first thing next morning, and a young policewoman comes to our house later to drink coffee and point a skeptical face at me. Annoying. Mom gets out the china we only use at Christmas. It's strange to see it on duty in October.

No one will listen to me and I'm starting to get really scared on the boys' behalf. I show the policewoman the garbage can and the upturned bike, like the crappiest guided tour ever.

I'm still not allowed to have my phone back. I totally forget about Hannah's unread email because I have so many different problems—worrying if the boys got expelled or, worse, if the police are involved. Anytime I try to Google the local news on our home computer, Mom is on me like a tuna fish on Pete's leg. Plus I have these big painkillers to help me sleep and they leave me groggy until the afternoon, so my days drift by in a frustrating blur.

I have to stay home from school for a couple of weeks to get over the concussion and “let things blow over,” as Mom says. Saturday is the last public tryout. The day passes and despite my begging, there's no way I'm allowed to go.

Mom and Dad won't even let me leave the house. They only manage to stop me by telling me if I go and see the boys, they'll be in
even
more trouble, and then that really will be my fault. So I go back to bed and I cry until I fall asleep and I wake up with a face like a blister.

I wonder if the boys go to the tryouts without me. I bet they do. I have the most unreasonable parents in the world. Laverne reports back that:

a) People are shamelessly nosy and she's told them all to eff off, especially Cammie, who says she's “distrawn” (not even a word).

b) Roman is back in school, but she hasn't seen Gabe.

c) She's getting used to Amelia Bond's lack of a hairy face mole, but it'll be a long road.

I suppose I'd rather Roman, Gabe, and Pete went to the tryouts without me than miss out. But when I think about them reaching the final while I'm stuck at home, I feel left behind. I have serious FOMO.

I wonder how Gabe could've done this for a year. I start going nuts after three days. Mom eventually lets me out for a drive with Dad after I start chalking up my days of incarceration on the bedroom wall with Lav's eyeliner.

Victory! Though I have to buy Lav a new eyeliner.

And, with perfect timing, my aching back and nausea turn out to be not aquarium-related but, in fact, my first period. Mom brings me a hot-water bottle.

“It's been a memorable week,” I tell her.

“It's still not as traumatic as my first period.”

“Pffft. How many police were involved in
your
first period?”

“None, but I was dancing in the school play. In white pants.”

She tucks me in with that horrible thought. I don't dare sleep in case I dream.

The next day I'm catching up on some homework that Mr. Peters dropped off. (“Lovely guy. Dark eyes,” Mom said. “Bit skinny,” Dad muttered.) With a stomach jolt, I remember Hannah's email. I cannot believe I haven't thought about her since the broom closet, but concussion is a funny thing, the doctor said. “Hilarious,” I said, feeling my lumpy head.

I beg Mom for my phone. She's about to say no, but I tell her about Hannah's latest messages, about her getting more and more stressed and her parents putting loads of pressure on her. Dad comes downstairs and loiters behind me, making a sandwich and eavesdropping.

“I am going to look through your phone,” Mom says, in a voice that expects me to argue.

“'Kay.”

“Laverne would go nuts if you tried that,” Dad mutters, head in the fridge.

I roll my eyes. “That's because she has boys begging her to go out with them, and all
I
have is an argumentative synchronized swimming team.”

Mom leans against the counter and scrolls through my phone. I look at her face for reactions.

“Anything?”

“Your friends from the swim team want to know if you're OK,
babes
,” she says wryly. “You've got two new emails from Hannah.”

“Can I read them?” I say, getting up to look.

“No. Not after the week you've had.” She begins to read.

Dad stands behind Mom and looks over her shoulder. Their faces become grim.

“What?” I demand. “Come on, she's my best friend!”

They read on. At one point, without taking his eyes off the screen, Dad reaches out and holds my hand. I think he forgets to let go, and I inwardly roll my eyes. It goes on awhile as he and Mom are bent over my phone, heads touching as they scroll through all the older emails, and still we keep holding hands. Am I going to have to drag him off to college with me?
Hi, guys, this is my dad, could you get the door? No, it's cool, we go through sideways.

Finally they finish and they look up at each other. Their noses are practically touching and for a crazy moment I think … are they're about to kiss? They're not a couple. They had better not kiss.Plus Dad's still holding my hand!

Thankfully they don't kiss
and
he lets go of my hand. Double win.

“What's a thigh gap?” Dad asks. I explain.

“Back fat?”

“Um…”

“Maybe fat that is on your back?” Mom says patiently.

“Right.”

Mom catches my eye. I suppress a smile. She holds my hand and looks thoughtful. “So. It doesn't look like Hannah is coping very well with the pressure. Or that her parents are being very helpful.” She pauses.

“What?”

They're clearly thinking something about me. I just can't tell what. Maybe the usual—“I hope she's not going to get any taller.”

“OK,” says Dad in his I Have a Plan voice. This is usually the voice with which he announces his intentions for experimental pudding recipes.

He hands me my phone.

“Lou, you email Hannah and ask her what she wants to do. Tell her we can call her parents…”

“No,” I interrupt him, “she will
flip out
.”

“Lou, she has already ‘flipped out.' She thinks back fat is important. So just be honest with her. And then?”

“Yes?”

“You can give me your phone back.”

 

chapter 28

Dear Hannah, I'm so so sorry, I didn't realize you were going mental.

Hmm. Delete.

Hannah, I'm really sorry. I've been making new friends and I hadn't noticed you were …

Even worse. Delete!

Hannah, I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were finding training camp so hard. It sounds like a really difficult place. Do you want me to tell your parents? Maybe you could talk to the coaches about slowing down your training? I'm sure if you told someone you weren't happy, they would help you. It's easy to feel like winning is the only thing that matters, but I don't think it is. Take it from a loser! I'm sorry I've been so slow to get back to you—I've had a crazy couple of weeks. I'll tell you more later. Please let me know you're OK!

Lots of love,
Weez xxxxx

It took me ages to phrase this, sitting at the kitchen table with tea cooling in front of me. But finally I think I've nailed it. I press Send, then hand my phone to Dad, who carefully puts it in a box. He locks the box with a little key, which he gives to Mom, who pockets it with a smug face. Dad stands on tiptoes and pushes the box onto a high shelf in the kitchen cupboard that not even I can reach.

He turns back and stands shoulder to shoulder with Mom. They fold their arms—no one can take on Team Parent.

Almost immediately my phone makes a pinging sound and vibrates inside the box. Their faces drop.

“That's probably Hannah replying,” I tell them, unnecessarily. Dad sighs and goes back to the cupboard and Mom digs in her pocket for the key.

It is Hannah.

DON'T SAY A WORD TO MY PARENTS. Seriously! This means the world to them. But you're not a loser, you know you're not. That video from the aquarium was amazing, I've shown it to tons of people here! I'm OK. I just feel low at night, things always seem better in the morning. Gotta go … we're all off to the movies. Only joking, trainintrainingtraining. FML.

Xxxxxxxxx

That wasn't the answer I was expecting. I don't like how vague it is. Mom takes the phone, and she and Dad read the message.

“OK,” says Dad. “But I'd be much happier if we told her parents.”

“She'd be so angry at me. I already feel bad showing this to
you
.”

“Keep talking to her,” says Mom, and hands me back my phone. “I'm trusting you,” she adds, hanging on to it a second longer than she needs.

I head upstairs and spend the rest of the day Googling all the things I haven't known for a couple of weeks. It takes ages. By the time I finished checking
distrawn
(knew it wasn't a word), Lav is back from school and flopping wearily down on her bed, shaking her homework out of her bag.

“Good day at school?”

She sighs. “People are still bugging me about you.”