Love and Other Drama-Ramas! (17 page)

Mum is fantastic on Monday too. Mills’s mum, Sue, is adamant that Mills won’t be visiting Bailey in the hospital. She says that school is far too important to miss — but Mum somehow manages to talk her round. “Bailey really needs his friends at the moment,” I hear her telling Sue on the phone. “Yes, I know they could get the bus to Tallaght
after
school, but that would take hours, and I’m happy to drive them over today. I’ll drop them straight back to class afterward, I promise.”

And it works! Sue says Mills can go — but only for half an hour.

Dave’s been really sweet all morning too. It was as we were stacking the dishwasher together that I finally asked him what’s been on my mind since yesterday.

“Can people die from hypothermia? Dave, do you think Bailey did it on purpose?”

He nodded. “Unfortunately, yes. But people don’t usually try to end things by standing in the sea on a busy beach, Amy. It sounds more like a cry for help. I’m sure Bailey was hoping someone would find him, and knowing as he does now that he has friends he can rely on and who care about him will make a lot of difference.”

After breakfast, we pick up Seth (unlike Sue, Polly didn’t take any convincing), and Mum drives us all to Tallaght Hospital, where we find Bailey in one of the children’s wards: a bright, sunny room with cartoon characters painted on its yellow walls.

He’s sitting up in bed, listening to music through his headphones. He’s wearing a plain white T-shirt that makes his emerald eyes ping. (I bet he refused to wear pajamas or a hospital gown.) I realize I’ve only ever seen him in black before or in the Saint John’s uniform. He’s still vampire pale, but he looks a lot better than he did yesterday.

He takes off his headphones and drops them onto the bed beside him as we come in. “Hey,” he says, looking a bit embarrassed.

But if he’s embarrassed, then Mills is mortified: her cheeks are ruby red, and she can’t stop staring at her feet.

“This is my mum, Sylvie,” I say to Bailey. “She drove us over. You met yesterday.”

Bailey gives her a nod, his face reddening. “Mac’s in the café. He said he’d love to talk to you — to thank you — if . . .” He drops his eyes to the blue cotton blanket on the bed.

“I’ll go and join him,” Mum says, smiling gently at Bailey. “Leave you lot to catch up. I’ll be back in about twenty minutes, Amy, OK? Take care, Bailey,” she adds, putting her hand on his shoulder. “I hope I’ll see you again soon. You’re welcome at our place anytime.”

She walks out of the ward, and I stare after her, wondering if the fairies have whisked away my real mum and left this totally cool, understanding woman in her place. She’s been amazing over the last two days.

There’s silence. In an attempt to remove the awkwardness, I ask brightly: “How are you feeling, Bailey? Still shivering?”

Bailey shrugs. “Only on the inside.”

I have no idea what to say to that, but I’m grateful that his anger toward me seems to have dissolved in the seawater.

After a moment or two, he lifts his head and gives me a half-smile. “Sorry, Amy. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.” And pushing himself up a little in the bed, he goes on: “Thanks for coming. All of you.”

He looks at Mills, who bites her lip nervously and then says, “We wanted to be here for you. We’re your friends.”

“I haven’t been much of a friend to any of you recently,” Bailey says. “And, Mills, for the record: I never really liked Annabelle — not the way I liked you. And it’s all over. I texted her this morning. I’m sorry for hurting you. Hey, I wrote you a song last night. To apologize, you know.”

Mills gives a little gasp. “Really?”

He nods. “I’ll sing it to you when I get out of here.”

I look from Bailey to Mills and back again. Mills is smiling delightedly. Is it really that simple for her? One song and everything’s hunky-dory? Seriously? Bailey behaved terribly.

Seth puts his hand on my arm. “Leave it,” he whispers. “It’s not the time.”

I nod at him. It’s enough that Seth understands. He knows how protective I am of Mills. Someone has to be. She’s such a big softie.

There’s silence again. So, me being me, I have to break it. “We’re all so sorry about everything that happened to you in the past, Bailey,” I say. “And about that stuff on the beach with Finn. You must have been hurting pretty bad to stand in freezing-cold water like that. I mean, you could have—”

“Amy!” Mills hisses. And even Seth is frowning at me.

“Sorry,” I murmur. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, it’s OK,” Bailey says. “I’m sick of hiding things. I don’t know why I walked into the sea like that. It was weird; I wasn’t thinking straight. My mind was racing, and I guess I wanted to feel nothing: for my body and my mind to go numb. I wanted to stop thinking. But the colder my body got, the more my mind raced.”

“But you wanted someone to find you, right?” Mills asks quietly.

He stares down at the blue blanket over his legs. “Honestly?” And for a second, the whole ward seems deathly quiet. “Yes,” he says finally. “As soon as I heard Seth’s and Amy’s voices, I kind of snapped out of my trance. And then Amy’s mum—” He breaks off and swallows. “What she said really got to me. I mean you guys all cared enough to freeze your butts off in the Irish Sea, so I must be worth something.” He shrugs.

“Oh, Bailey, of course you’re worth something,” Mills says, her eyes filling with tears.

No one says anything else for a while until eventually Bailey says, “Do you ever wish you’d never been born?”

Mills looks shocked. “That’s a terrible thing to say.”

“No, it’s not. I feel like that sometimes,” I say gently. “It’s normal to feel a bit down every once in a while. When my mum and dad were fighting all the time, I felt pretty awful. And Seth’s been through a lot with Polly being sick and everything.”

I pause to check that Seth’s all right with what I’ve just said. He gives me a gentle smile, so I continue: “Bailey, here’s how I see it. You can carry on hiding from your past, running away from it, or you can look it in the face and say, ‘Yep, that happened to me, but I’m not going to let it ruin the rest of my life.’”

Bailey shakes his head. “You don’t know what I went through. You don’t know who I am.”

“Actually,
I
do,” I say gently. Our eyes lock; his are full of pain and anguish and worry and regret and fear — it frightens me. But I think he understands that I know everything — about Baby X and his mother — and that I’ll never tell Mills or Seth. Bailey will always carry a deep sadness in his heart — an everlasting scar — but hopefully he can learn to live with it. His eyes soften a little, and he gives me a tiny nod.

“Nothing’s changed, mate,” Seth says cheerfully, breaking the intense atmosphere. “You’re still the same old annoying Bailey Otis to us.”

We talk for a while longer until Bailey looks at the clock. “I have to go to this counselor woman at ten. They won’t let me out otherwise. It’s kind of lame . . .” He trails off.

“I went to one once,” Seth says, picking at the skin around his thumb. I look at him in surprise. “When Polly first got sick, I wasn’t doing so well,” he goes on. “The doctor found me someone to talk to. She was nice. It kinda helped. Talking to someone who wasn’t involved and didn’t know me from Adam.” He shrugs. “It can’t do any harm, and it might get you off some school, mate.”

“Guess so,” Bailey says.

I take a deep breath.
Don’t do it, Amy,
a little voice is telling me. But if I don’t say it now, I never will. And it’s important. “Bailey, you should talk to her about Finn. See what she thinks about you two meeting up.”

“Yeah, all right.” Bailey looks at me. He doesn’t seem angry, though, just a little tired.

“So you’ll think about it?” (I know, I know; I’m like a dog with a bone.)

Bailey shrugs. “Yes, Greenster. I’ll think about it, OK? Just for you.” His voice is flat, but his eyes have brightened. There’s hope.

That evening Clover is practically glued to the sofa as I unfold the drama of the last two days.

“
Siúcra ducra
, Beans,” she says with a low whistle when I’ve finished telling her everything. “That’s quite the story. Poor old Bailey. I hope he feels stronger soon.” She breaks off and picks at a hangnail. “And if that wounded soldier can face his woolly mammoth-size demons, I don’t really have any excuse, do I, Bean Machine?”

“Cliona, you mean?”

She nods. “
Exactement.
And the bold Lucas Kendall.
Especially
Kendall. I have to face them both before I can move on.
Visage
to
visage
.”

“If it can wait till Wednesday afternoon, I’ll go to Trinity with you. Give you a bit of moral support.”

“Would you mind? Just thinking about it gives me the collywobbles, but I’m sick of hiding between lectures and missing out on all the college parties. Paddy keeps asking me to write for the mag using a pseudonym, and I hate turning him down. But either I write as Clover Wildgust, or I don’t write at all. I’m not hiding my identity for anyone. Plus the Trinity Ball’s on soon. Don’t want to be Cinderella, leaving when my spell wears off at midnight, now, do I?”

“Spell?”

She sighs. “Confidence spell. Every morning I stand in front of the mirror and tell myself that Cliona and Kendall won’t bother me — that today will be the day I’ll shimmer past them, cool as a Bacardi Breezer.”

“Does it work?”

“Never. But as I always say, life moves pretty fast: if I’m not careful, my college years will have whizzed right by me. No, it’s finally time to face my fears.”

Bailey still isn’t back in school by Wednesday. I haven’t heard from him, but he’s been in contact with Seth. Apparently, Bailey’s new counselor has suggested he take some time off to get his strength back. Physical strength or mental strength, I didn’t like to ask.

Mills is on cloud nine. Bailey has been texting her every day. She knows I don’t approve, but she says she has to tell someone or she’ll burst. I just hope he doesn’t trample on her heart again.

After school I take the DART to Pearse Street and nip into the loo to change out of my uniform and into skinny jeans, Converse, and the soft gray leather jacket Clover bequeathed to me on Monday night (which was why she’d called over in the first place). “Extended loan,” she’d told me. “I’m bored of it. I’m hoping seeing it on you will give me clothes envy and I’ll want it back again.”

There is this weird ice-blue light in the loos that makes everything glow like Casper the Friendly Ghost, and I can’t get out of there fast enough, so I have to stop outside the college and make Clover hold my tiny makeup mirror while I dab on some lip gloss and mascara. (I met her just outside the train station, and she’s jitterbug nervous.)

“Don’t know why you’re bothering with the gloop, Beanie,” she says. “Hate to say it, but you’re far too young for most college guys.”

“I’m not interested in college guys; it’s
my
confidence spell,” I say. “Humor me.”

“In that case, hold still” — she whips out her cute Benefit makeup case —“and shut your eyes.” Sticking one of the mini eyeshadow brushes in her mouth, she prepares to get to work with the other. I close my eyes, and she starts tickling my lids with the brushes.

“What do you think?” she asks when she’s done. I examine her work in the mirror.

“Smokin’,” I say with a grin.

She smiles. “Smoky eyes I can do. Taught by the master herself — Saffron Cleaver.”

“Saffron Cleaver?”

“Saffy. You know, my editor. Scary but awesome. She’s part of the reason I’ve had enough gumption to be here today. I asked her about
Trinity Tatler,
and she had some brilliant ideas about how to revitalize the magazine. She told me to get myself in gear and to start sending them feature ideas, pronto, or she’d whip my behind.” (
Good for Saffy,
I think.) “And speaking of awesome, there’s Paddy. Hey, Paddser!”

He waves and starts walking toward us. Today he’s wearing tartan shorts teamed with a sunny yellow T-shirt and emerald-green high-tops. The guy must live in shorts — whatever the weather.

“How did the basketball game go?” Clover asks him. “Did you win?”

“Sure did. Annihilated UCD.” He pretends to dribble a ball with his hand and score a basket.

Basketball! No wonder he has such strong-looking legs.

“You remember Paddy, Amy?”

“How could I forget?” I smile.

He smiles back, his dark eyes shining. “And I certainly haven’t forgotten you, my sweet petunia.” He takes my hand and kisses it while I giggle. “Now, Clover,” he continues, “please tell me you’ve changed your mind about the magazine and are down at this end of Trinity seeking me out.”

“Let’s just say I’m considering your offer,” Clover says. “But I don’t do pen names — it’s Clover Wildgust or nothing — so I have to talk to Cliona first.”

“Angels in the heavens be praised.” Paddy grins. “I don’t know what’s changed your mind, tooty fruit, but frankly I don’t care. I have so many ideas, and it’ll be great to have someone on the team to share them with. I’m itching to get started.”

“Chickens and hatching and eggs, and all that,” Clover says. “I’d better get this over with. Is Cliona in the office?”