Undone (15 page)

I was vaguely aware of Lucas turning to face me. He didn’t say anything at first, so I didn’t turn towards him. But I could see his face in the corner of my vision and he was definitely looking right at me. Heat crawled all over me, but I tried to ignore the sensation and concentrate on what Sasha was saying.

‘Hey,’ he said softly.

I had to turn to look at him then, didn’t I? I couldn’t very well sit there and ignore him. ‘Hey.’ I had never seen his face so close up before. It was as ridiculously perfect as it was at a distance – maybe even more so. Lots of people look good from a distance, but not many hold up to close scrutiny. This was Lucas Mahoney in High Definition. His eyes were such an impossible blue that I wondered if they might be contact lenses. Looking at his stupidly perfect face made my skin itch. If a baseball bat had magically appeared in my hands, I wouldn’t have hesitated to smash his face with it. Of course, that would have got me arrested, but it would almost have been worth it, just to rearrange those perfect features.

‘So, Jem, what do you have to say for yourself?’

‘I . . . nothing much, really.’

He smiled, but not unkindly. ‘I find that very hard to believe. OK, tell me something about you that no one else knows. Here, I’ll go first. Um . . . right, I’ve got one. Up until last year I still had a night light in my bedroom. It was shaped like an alien and glowed green in the dark.’

‘You’re scared of the dark?’ I didn’t want to smile but I couldn’t help myself.

‘Past tense, thanks very much! I’ve managed to face my fears and now I don’t even have to leave my bedroom door open to see that crack of light from the hallway. Pretty impressive, right?’

I know what you’re doing. This is supposed to be charming and endearing. But
why
are you doing it?
Either he was just trying to put me at ease, make me feel comfortable, because he recognized this must be weird for me, or this was what he did with everyone. This was what made him King Lucas. Insincere self-deprecation and a sweet smile. I had to admit it was a pretty effective combination, but I could see through this boy like a pane of newly polished glass.

‘Yeah, that
is
pretty impressive. Your parents must be so proud.’ My sarcasm was carefully judged – enough so he knew it was there, not enough for him to think I was a bitch.

His smile faltered a little. ‘Parent. Singular.’ He fiddled with a thin strip of leather tied around his wrist.

That stumped me. ‘Oh. Right . . .’ I trailed off, not wanting to ask what he meant but not wanting to gloss over it either.

‘It’s all right, it’s no big drama or anything. I never knew my dad – he scarpered before I was even born. Tosser.’

‘I’m sorry.’ This seemed like the right thing to say. I couldn’t help wondering why Lucas had brought it up. There was no need for it really. He could have just ignored my proud parents remark, couldn’t he? That’s what I’d have done. Did he want me to feel sorry for him? Was that it?

Lucas shook his head. ‘No need to be sorry. My mum’s pretty amazing . . . and she’s clearly done an awesome job raising me, right?’

‘I . . . yeah.’

He laughed. ‘Jeez, I was kidding! How arrogant do you think I am?’ I chose not to answer that. ‘So come on then, fair’s fair. Tell me a secret.’ He leaned a little closer and I had to force myself not to lean back.

‘I don’t have any secrets.’

‘Everyone’s got secrets, Jem. It’s what makes
people interesting.’ The way he was looking at me made me feel naked. His gaze was magnetic. Maybe that’s why he was so popular – he hypnotized people into liking him.

I hate you and your friends and the only reason I’m sitting here right now is because I want to destroy you. I’ll do whatever it takes.

‘I used to go line dancing with my Mum.’ I have never been line dancing in my life.

Lucas burst out laughing and slapped his knee in a totally disproportionate way. ‘Now that’s a good one! That’s almost worse than being scared of the dark. So when did you hang up your cowboy boots?’

‘A couple of years ago. You know, line dancing is a lot harder than it looks. There’s a lot of skill involved.’

‘Is that so? Maybe you could teach me some moves some time?’

The invitation hung in the air, inhabiting the space between us. There was that strange exposed feeling again – like he had the measure of me. I knew he didn’t. I knew he couldn’t possibly know what I was thinking, but that didn’t stop me from looking away, embarrassed.

I was saved by Bugs shouting over, ‘Hey, Lucas, stop flirting with the poor girl! You’re so bloody
obvious
, mate. You want to take a few lessons from the Bugsmeister, my friend.’ He raised one ginger eyebrow with faux suaveness, then yawned and stretched his arm around Sasha. Before she knew what was happening, she was pulled into his embrace. She squealed as Bugs pretended to maul her like the big bear he was.

I’d never been so glad to hear the bell ring for lessons. I grabbed my bag and jumped up; the others carried on like they hadn’t even heard it. Lucas was watching me, amused. ‘Blimey, you’re keen.’

‘I’ve got geography with Mr Lynch. He makes you stand outside if you’re late. It’s embarrassing.’
Why do I feel the need to explain myself to him?

‘Well, we wouldn’t want you being embarrassed now, would we? Off you go.’ I couldn’t tell if he was mocking me. That smile was really quite distracting. ‘Actually, I’ll let you go on one condition.’ His legs were blocking my escape route, so I had no choice but to stand and wait. ‘Sit with us at lunch? It’s kind of a downer seeing you sitting in the corner all by yourself.’ Once again I found it hard to believe that a member of Team Popular had deigned to acknowledge the existence of an outsider. The thought of them watching me made my skin creep and crawl.

‘OK.’

Lucas smiled.

I smiled back.

I was in.

It was that simple.

Of course, it wasn’t actually
that
simple. After lunch, I was silently congratulating myself on getting through a whole hour in their company, marvelling at the fact that I hadn’t spilled any food on myself or choked on my water or sprayed food in anyone’s face.
Maybe this won’t be so tricky after all
. Then there was a voice in my ear as I queued up to hand over my empty tray. ‘What are you doing here? Nobody wants you here.’ I could smell onions on his breath.

I didn’t turn to face him as I spoke. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

He waited until the others had walked out of the cafeteria ahead of us. ‘What are you playing at? With all this?’ He flicked my hair, his finger grazing my ear in the process.

I’d seen the way he’d looked at me all through lunch, emitting all kinds of bad vibes from the other
end of the table. At one point I’d heard Nina asking him what was up – his response was a grunted ‘nothing’. I knew I was going to have to deal with him sooner or later. I’d just expected it to be later, that’s all. But I’d already worked out how I was going to handle him.

I looked over my shoulder in a really obvious way, then pulled him away from the crowds pouring out of the cafeteria. My touch on his arm was enough to confuse him. I leaned in close, steeling myself against the onion breath. ‘Look, I’m really sorry about what happened. I’m sorry about your nose.’

‘Yeah? You didn’t seem sorry after it happened,
remember
?’

‘I know. I was just . . . messed up, I suppose.’ I averted my gaze from his.

‘What do you mean by that?’ His eyes were suspicious, but I knew they wouldn’t be for much longer if I played this exactly right.

‘I can’t talk about it. I’m sorry. Please, you have to understand.’ I touched his arm again and left it there for a second or two.

‘I haven’t got a bloody clue what you’re on about. All I know is we were having a good time and then you went and freaked out like a lunatic.’

I took a shaky breath and looked him square in the eye. ‘If I tell you something, will you promise not to
tell anyone else?’ This performance was turning out to be truly Oscar-worthy.

‘Yeah, I won’t tell anyone.’ He was looking uncomfortable now. Clearly he wasn’t accustomed to girls telling him secrets.

‘You have to promise, Stu. This is serious. You can’t tell Lucas or Bugs or
anyone
. No one knows. I’ve never told anyone before.’

‘I promise.’ His voice softened. ‘You can tell me.’ He sounded almost sincere.

I leaned even closer and whispered the words into his ear. The words I knew would get me off the hook with him. Three little words.

‘I was raped.’

A stab of guilt as I said the words. A stab of guilt that had to be ignored.

Stu’s eyes widened and he flinched as if I’d hit him. ‘
What?
’

‘It happened a long time ago and I guess . . . I guess I thought I was over it. But I haven’t . . . y’know . . .
been
with anyone since then. I thought I was ready. But I wasn’t and I freaked out and I’m sorry. It wasn’t your fault.’ Those last words almost stuck in my throat. Part of my brain was truly appalled at what I was doing, that I’d even come up with this idea in the first place.
The other part was pragmatic, reassuring me that I had to do this. It was the only way.

Stu leaned against the wall and breathed out. ‘
God
. That’s . . . I had no idea. That’s pretty hardcore.’ Only an idiot like Stu would think hardcore was an appropriate word to use when talking about rape. ‘I’m sorry. That’s terrible. If I’d known, I never would have . . . I mean,
obviously
.’

‘I know you wouldn’t.’

‘Who . . . ? Did you go to the police?’

I shook my head. ‘No point. My word against his. Look, Stu, I shouldn’t have told you . . . but I wanted you to understand why I freaked out like I did. You do understand, don’t you?’ I was all but fluttering my eyelashes at the boy.

‘Of course! God, I’m so sorry.’ He went to touch my arm and then stopped when he realized that maybe being touched by him was not something I would want.

‘So we’re OK? You won’t mind me hanging out with you lot sometimes? It helps, you know? I feel like I’m finally fitting in, after all this time.’ I nearly winced, sure that I’d gone too far. That he wouldn’t buy it.

‘I don’t mind at all. I’m sorry I was a dick.’ Again with the poor choice of words. This boy seriously
needed to work on his vocabulary. He rubbed his hand over his head in a nervous gesture.

‘You’ve nothing to apologize for. I’m just glad I was able to explain. And you promise you won’t tell anyone? I couldn’t bear it if people knew. I want to get on with my life and forget it ever happened.’

‘I understand.’ I’d never seen him look so serious before. It didn’t suit him.

‘Thank you. Well, I’d better get to English. I’ll see you later, OK?’

Stu nodded but didn’t make a move to leave. ‘Jem, there’s something I . . . I want you to know that it wasn’t a dare. Me and you. Nobody dared me to pull you. I made that up.’ He shrugged and smiled sheepishly. ‘Wounded pride or something. Sorry,’ he mumbled, looking at his feet.

I smiled and it was genuine. ‘That’s OK. Thanks for telling me. I really appreciate it. See you later, Stu.’

I left him leaning against the wall. As soon as I was out of the cafeteria I had to stop myself from doing a lame little victory dance or punching the air. I walked calmly down the corridor, but I couldn’t keep the smile off my face.

I’d done it. I’d really done it. Stu wasn’t going to be a problem. He’d been officially neutralized. And it had been so much easier than I could have imagined.
It was almost scary how easy it was to get away with a story like that. I’d half expected him to call me a liar, but it would be a very brave person to say that to someone who’d just told you they’d been raped. You’d have to be absolutely sure you were in the right. And Stu didn’t know me well enough to know anything of the sort. Stu didn’t know me at all.

The admission about the dare was what pleased me the most. Either he was now telling the truth and there’d been no dare – he’d followed me into the greenhouse for his own reasons. Or he was lying, in which case he felt bad enough to want to protect my feelings. It was win-win.

When I lay in bed that night I tried to ignore the question my conscience kept coming back to: had I
enjoyed
telling that lie? Even just a little bit?

No.
No.

I’ve done it. Somehow I’ve achieved the impossible. I am officially one of Them. I thought it would take a lot longer to infiltrate Team Popular, but I suppose once they decide you’re in, you’re
really
in. There are no half measures where this lot are concerned.

I wonder if everyone would do this if they knew how effortless it is. Do people look at me and wonder how I did it? I bet they put it down to the hair and the make-up and the stuff they can see on the outside. And that was the start of it, no doubt. This would not have happened if I hadn’t changed all that, if I hadn’t moulded myself into an approximation of a face that fits. But there’s more to it than that: it’s about watching and listening and saying the things they want to hear. It’s about knowing when to speak and when to shut up. It’s about learning the dynamics of the group. Looking in from the outside, I thought I knew exactly how they
operated. Luke was King and everyone bowed down to him. The others were his loyal subjects, existing for the sole purpose of making him look good. I was wrong.

Lucas and the boys are louder than the girls – they
seem
dominant. The girls laugh and roll their eyes at the boys’ antics. You’d be forgiven for thinking they’re simpering idiots – clinging onto the boys with their manicured fingernails, knowing that if they put a foot wrong they risk losing their place in Team Popular. But the more I watch, the more I realize it’s the girls who hold the real power. Pretty much everything the boys do is to impress them. Even the things that are gross or violent or incredibly stupid – it’s all about the girls. Especially Sasha. She’s the centre of the group, which explains why she wasn’t ousted when she broke up with Lucas. It also helps explain why it was so easy for her to bring me in from the wastelands of the general school population. It’s Sasha who’s made the Plan possible really. I must remember to thank her one day.