Forever Blue (22 page)

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Authors: Abby Wilder

BOOK: Forever Blue
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Chapter Thirty Four

 

Judah - the previous year

 

 

I intended on going to school. I headed that way. I almost pulled into the carpark, but as I twisted the steering wheel it was as though a heaviness descended over me, the air turned thick, and I couldn't breathe. I pictured Cara. Only when I pulled up, all she saw were the words plastered across my car. And she believed them.

I had thought it would show strength if I turned up at school in the car. I thought it would show everyone that I didn't care what they thought, that I was innocent, but I couldn't do it. Either, I wasn't strong enough, or the word sprayed across my car had gotten to me more than I cared to admit. And even though I wasn't the one driving, I was hardly innocent.

I drove for hours but I didn't go anywhere. I didn't do anything. I just drove with the window down, the wind on my face, and let the purr of the engine vibrate through my mind until the fog lifted. There was a large truck stop out of town for all the long-haul drivers. It was deserted most of the day and only really came alive during the evenings, so I pulled in and walked inside to buy some paint remover. The man behind the counter kept looking at me and then out of the window. I didn't give him the satisfaction of responding.

While I was rubbing off the 'K', my phone rang. It was Dad. "Son, you need to come home," he said. His voice was different than usual. Normally when Dad spoke to me, his tone was coloured with annoyance or disinterest. This time, it was almost tender.

"Why?" I asked. I hoped that he would say he was worried, the school called and reported that I hadn't turned up, or maybe Ruben had called and got them worried, but everything was okay and I could go back to removing the letters sprayed across the Fairlane.

"You need to come home," he repeated. "The police are here."

I drove home picturing the scene in my mind. Police cars crammed up the driveway, lights flashing blue and red across the house, dogs scouring the property, but when I followed the line of trees down the driveway there was only one police car and the statue of the frozen boy.

Mum opened the door before I could and pulled me into her arms. "Judah," she wailed pitifully.

I detached myself and followed the voices to the lounge. Dad and his lawyer, Gus Collins, were seated on the couch with Inspector Anderson and Sergeant Dickson seated opposite them. Not a good sign. They all stood when I walked in.

"Judah," Anderson said.

I couldn't look at her. I couldn't look at any of them. "Is Ruben here?"

Gus Collins came over and guided me away from the group, talking discreetly. He had been Dad's lawyer for years. I had seen him at the house numerous times for business meetings and he'd even come over for dinner a few times. "I'm advising you not to say anything. At this stage, they are just wanting to ask some questions, but let me answer them, okay?"

"Okay," I replied. What else was there to say? I couldn't tell the truth. I couldn't say who was really responsible. I had no choice but to go along with whatever was said and hope desperately that Ruben's feeble plan of driver confusion would actually work.

"Don't let this get to you, Judah. They don't have any evidence. They have nothing to go on. Trust me to deal with this, okay?"

"Okay," I said again.

Gus Collins cleared his throat and nodded. "You may proceed," he said to Anderson.

Even though I sat between Dad and Gus, I had never felt so alone. Everyone looked at me with accusing eyes. They all thought I was guilty. Mum cried silently in the corner, her face covered with her hands.

"Judah Mitchell," Anderson started, smiling tightly. "There are some things which have come to light and we need to ask you a few more questions. Is that okay?"

I grunted out a laugh and Mum choked back a sob. "Go ahead," I said.

"We have had an eyewitness come forward, claiming to have seen your car at the scene of the incident on the night in question."

I stared at the patterns on the carpet, thinking of the headlights in the rear vision mirror. When I didn't say anything, Anderson continued.

"In fact, we have had two separate witnesses step forward. One of them claims to have seen your car speeding away from the site of the accident, and the other claims to have seen you drive away from the bonfire just before the incident occurred, intoxicated."

I looked up to see if she was lying, trying to prompt a confession out of me, but her eyes held nothing but mild interest, no condemnation.

"They're lying."

"They claim they are not."

Anger flared and I got to my feet. "They're lying, okay? I never got behind the wheel that night. I never drove."

"Just let me answer any questions, okay?" Gus interjected.

"I understand that is your statement—"

"It's not just my statement. It's the truth," I said angrily.

"Let Gus handle this, son," Dad said gruffly. Mum let out a strangled wail and Dad glared at her. "Pull yourself together," he warned.

"You see, the problem with your statement is we have several eyewitnesses who claim to have seen you take the keys from your brother that night."

I stayed silent.

"We also have a statement from your brother claiming that you both left the party at the same time and that you were driving, but then we have eye witnesses who saw him at the party alone, after you left. Is he lying for you?"

"What does he say about the accident?" I asked.

"Judah," Dad warned.

"He declined to say anything about the trip home other than the fact that you were driving, just like you, almost as though he is trying to defend you."

"That would be right," I muttered.

"Excuse me? What are you claiming happened?"

"My client is claiming nothing," Gus responded. "He maintains his innocence against any accusations and will not be saying anything to incriminate either himself or his brother." 

"You've got to admit," Anderson continued, sitting forward in her seat. "It's not looking good for you, Judah. You have a history of driving while drunk."

"It was two beers, once," I said quietly.

Gus frowned and I fell silent. "A history isn't evidence," the lawyer said.

"No," Anderson agreed. "But when combined with several witnesses who saw you take the keys from your brother, the witness who saw you drive away—"

"They're lying," I said, ignoring the warning glares from Gus.

"As well as the witness who placed your car at the scene of the accident, not to mention the fight you had with Cara Armistead."

"Who said Cara and I had a fight?"

"She did."

"She did?" My voice rose an octave.

"Yes. Cara Armistead said that before you took off that night, you had witnessed her and your brother kissing and that it had greatly upset you. She said that you said, her and Ruben's relationship was nothing more than a quick thrill and that he would never choose her. She said," the detective shuffled through her papers looking for the exact quote, "you were cruel with jealousy and even went as far as to call her little sister a skank and her mother crazy."

Mum peeked through her fingers, shock showing in her expression. "Judah?" she questioned, but at the glare from Dad, she didn't say any more.

"It wasn't like that." I shook my head and ran my fingers through my hair. "It wasn't like that," I repeated.

"But you do not deny that you fought, that you were angry with both Cara and Ruben? Is that why you said your brother was driving? You hit the girl and decided to cast the suspicion onto him to get him back for stealing Cara away from you?"

"No! I wasn't driving. I never killed anyone. Did Cara actually say that? Did Ruben?"

"I think that's enough for today," Gus said, getting to his feet. "Have you got any concrete evidence that places him at the scene? Tyre marks? Blood splatter on the car? Anything?"

Anderson stood and tucked her notepad under her arm. "That is all. Thank you for your time. We'll see ourselves out. Judah, I suggest you don't go anywhere for a few days. And we'll be needing your car." She held out her hand, expecting me to shake it. I wanted to slap it. I wanted to spit in her face. But I took it and shook it limply. "We'll be in touch," she said to Dad and Gus, and then she left.

Sergeant Dickson walked behind her, sheepishly fondling his hat, but Dad blocked his exit. "Tell me this will all go away, Dane."

But the sergeant just ducked his head and walked out the door.

Chapter Thirty Five

 

Lennon

 

 

One of the worst things about moving into the Armistead house was that I was given Lana's old room. Flynn hadn't even bothered to clear the posters from the walls or the stuffed toys from the wardrobe. I didn't know what to do with it and Cara wasn't around to ask. She spent most of her time locked in her bedroom, behind the door that had 'piss off' etched into the wood. In the end, I packed everything into the boxes I had just unpacked my own things from and left them in a stack in the corner of the room. I sat on the bed and stared at them and they glared accusingly back, reminding me that this was her room, her things, and that she wasn't here to claim them because of Ruben.

The first week of living together saw everyone pass like ships in the night. We never spoke. We never ate together. Cara sat in her room and I sat in mine, only it didn't feel like mine. Even with Lana's things packed away they still spoke to me through the walls of the boxes.

I went to school each day.

I dropped Grams' bottle of gin off on Wednesday.

Dad sent constant text updates on baby Blue.

Mum danced around the house as though floating on a cloud of happiness, or denial, I guess it depended on who you asked.

Life was normal, at least from the outside, but each night Ruben crawled through my window, wrapped his arms around me and whispered in my ear. Each night I felt exhilaration and fear. And each night I dreamed of drowning.

He had become a constant in my life, always there when I was alone, always nearby if I was around other people. He was my unseen shadow. But things had changed between us. The recent revelations about his past had tainted my thoughts. They had become clouded and confused. When he wasn't around, I almost felt relief. But when he was near, I couldn't imagine being without him. He was an addiction that I knew I should give up, but couldn't face the thought of actually being without.

By the second week of living as a newly formed family, Mr Watson had given me three warnings for tardiness, and I had only just managed to slip into my seat for class that morning when the bell rang, signalling the start of class.

Sienna kicked me under the desk. "You look like hell," she whispered.

I frowned and placed my books neatly in a stack. "I feel like it too."

She moved her chair away a little. "Are you sick or something?"

I shrugged. I couldn't explain it. I guess it was just the dreams, or the nightmares, keeping me awake at night. There was nothing actually wrong with me, I just had no energy, my bones ached and I flicked between coldness and numbness.

"Nice of you to join us on time today, Lennon," Mr Watson announced from the front of the class.

I ducked my head and flipped open the book, choosing not to look at the rest of the class while they sniggered. Due to my tiredness, Mr Watson's voice, which I usually found comforting, became soothing to the point I felt my eyelids start to droop. I shook my head, forcing myself to remain awake and stared out the window, blocking off the gentle tones of his voice. Ruben stood outside, watching me. He waved as the first spits of rain began to fall. He lifted his eyes to the sky and tipped his head back, letting the drops fall on his face and onto his outstretched tongue. I tried to ignore him standing out there in the rain, letting it soak his skin, his clothing, but as much as I tried to concentrate on the lesson, my eyes kept drifting back. His dark hair was slicked against his head. Dirty shoes poked out from the cuffs of his mud-stained jeans and when he looked at me again, his wolfish smile sent shivers down my spine. As if in a trance, I looked towards the window that separated us, eyes locked on his, and the distance shrank. Rain fell. The drops splattered as they broke against my skin. I blinked. Ruben stood and held out his hand.

"Come," he said.

I shook my head, looking around at my classmates, but they weren't looking at me. They weren't looking at Ruben. For a moment, I had forgotten that for them he didn't exist.

"Come," he said again.

I took his outstretched hand and he pulled me to my feet, wrapping his hand around my waist and pulling me close, tight, so there was no space between his body and mine. He started to sway in time to music I couldn't hear.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"We're already here."

The classroom vanished and we stood in the forest that surrounded his house. The sun was low in the sky and streams of light cut through the trees. Dark. Light. Dark. Light. Until the darkness overcame the light and the forest fell black. Stars danced down among the trees and combined with the raindrops dripping from the leaves until I couldn't tell which were which. In the distance, the abandoned house glowed with light pouring from the windows, inviting us to come closer. Music slipped through the cracks. But Ruben wasn't looking at the house, he wasn't looking at anything but me. My heart beat faster.

"Kiss me," he said.

I shook my head, suddenly aware that we weren't in the forest at all, but we were still in the classroom surrounded by people who, despite surrounding us as we embraced, took no notice.

"Kiss me," he said again, more urgently.

I shook my head, my throat too tight to form the words.

"Kiss me!" he roared, as his voice reverberated through my mind. Fireworks exploded in the sky and the world flashed between the darkened forest, the brightness of the classroom, and the crackling glow of the bonfire on the shores of the lake.

He pressed his lips against mine and pressure rose in my chest. I tried to push him away, but his grip cut into my arms and I was powerless. My mind screamed to breathe, but I couldn't. He devoured me until the fear, the exhilaration, and the panic welled enough to give me the strength to push him away. As air entered my lungs, I screamed.

"Lennon!" Sienna hissed.

I was sitting at my desk in class. The rain wasn't falling. There was no forest, no fireworks or dancing stars, no bonfire, no lake.

"Len? Are you okay?" Sienna's voice held a level of concern I hadn't heard before.

"Lennon Donnelly, can I see you for a moment?" Mr Watson frowned over his glasses.

I got to my feet, although my legs were shaking. Sienna reached out and gripped my arm. Pain shot through me, as it was where Ruben had gripped only moments before. Or, at least, I thought he had.

"Len?" she questioned.

"I'm fine," I assured her, my mind still distracted. If it was a dream, if Ruben wasn't really here, why did it hurt?

Sienna frowned prettily. "No, you're not. I'm worried about you." She lowered her voice to a hushed whisper, even though the entire class was straining to hear our conversation. "What was that?"

"We'll talk later." I pushed past her and walked out the door Mr Watson held open, giving me 'the glare' over his glasses, and avoided Cara's questioning stare from the back of the room.

We stood in the empty hallway and Mr Watson crossed his arms. "Is everything okay?"

"I'm sorry," I said. "I must have fallen asleep." I hugged my arms around myself, suddenly cold.

"Is everything okay at home?" It was the standard response by teachers for any behaviour outside the norm. "I know that a lot has changed for you recently."

Right on cue, Cara poked her head through the door.

"I'm fine, everything's fine." I forced myself to smile. "I'm just not feeling all that well. I think I might be coming down with something."

Mr Watson reached out and briefly patted my shoulder before thinking the better of it and withdrawing his hand quickly. "You can have the rest of the day off. Cara, will you make sure she gets home okay? I don't want her driving after that little incident."

"Sure." Cara walked over to stand beside me and Mr Watson walked back into the classroom under a barrage of questions from the other students. I caught Sienna's worried eye before the door closed and I mouthed that I was okay.

"Was it him?" Cara asked, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall.

"So you believe me now?"

Cara smirked. "That you can see Ruben? No. But I believe that you think you can." She pulled herself off the wall and looped an arm through mine. "Come on, I'll take you home."

The house was empty, or, at least we thought it was, until Mum and Flynn came shuffling out of the bedroom tucking their clothes in.

"Gross," Cara said, flinging her bag onto the floor.

"Honey," her dad begun, but she held up her hand.

"No, Dad. Just no."

He held both hands up in defeat before asking, "What are you girls doing home so early?"

Cara looked at me, waiting for my answer. I couldn't tell them the truth, that I fell asleep in class and woke up screaming, or, at least, I think I fell asleep. I wasn't sure.

"I'm not feeling well," I said finally.

Mum walked over and placed her hand against my forehead. "You're awfully cold." She peered at my face and I did my best to avoid meeting her eye. "And you're awfully pale." She crossed her arms. "You haven't looked well in days. Is everything okay?"

"It's just a headache," I said, moving away from her. "I think I'll go lie down for a bit."

As I left the room, Mum looked over at Cara questioningly but she just shrugged. "Did something happen?" I heard Mum ask, before I closed the door to Lana's room.

The boxes in the corner glared at me accusingly, so I decided to open them and go through some of the contents. Lana must have had a thing for
My Little Ponies
at some stage because her wardrobe had been stuffed with them. I pulled them out one by one and lined them along my desk. Their tails and manes were mangled so I searched through the box, looking for the brush I knew I had placed inside, and brushed their tails and manes until they were tamed. There was something soothing about the motion, something that kept my mind still, so when Ruben spoke behind me, I was startled.

"What are you doing here?" I said, holding one of the ponies to my chest.

"I heard what happened."

"Was it you?" I asked.

He shook his head slowly and came to sit beside me on the bed. "I would never scare you like that, not willingly, at least."

"It seemed so real," I whispered.

Ruben's eyes fell to the neat row of ponies with freshly brushed manes and tails. "Were they hers?"

I nodded and he picked one up, turning it over in his hands. "She was so young." His voice choked.

I placed my hand over his, stilling the shaking pony. "So were you."

He put the pony back down. "Please don't hate me," he said with desperation. "You're all I've got. Please don't hate me."

"I could never hate you."

"But you're pulling away from me," he whispered. "I can feel it when I'm around you, in your words, your mannerisms, your touch. Please don't leave me all alone again." He tilted my chin upwards with his finger. "You're everything to me."

And then he kissed me. Only, this time, it was gentle and tender and it didn't hurt at all. We sat with our foreheads pressed together until a knock at the door broke us apart.

"Lennon?" Mum whispered. "Lennon, are you awake?"

Ruben slipped through the window. "Keep it open for me?"

I nodded and offered, "Aurora?"

He grinned and shook his head as he climbed out the window, mouthing, "Always blue."

Mum opened the door and stood with her head poked through the gap. "How are you feeling now? Any better?"

I shook my head. "Just tired."

She walked over and sat in the same spot Ruben had been sitting only seconds before. "That Mitchell boy is here with Elmo."

I frowned and pulled the keys from my pocket. "But how?"

Mum shrugged. "He asked if he could see you."

I got to my feet and walked outside where Judah leaned against Elmo, arms crossed and staring at Cara's window. Mum followed me and called out that she was going to the shop.

"Thanks," I said as I approached Judah. "But how did you start it without the keys?"

"It's old. It's not difficult." He pulled himself straight, dragging his gaze away from Cara's window.

"What do you see in her?" I asked.

He looked startled at first, but then leaned back against the car. "I love her," he said simply.

"But why? She treats you like rubbish."

"She didn't always. And loving her isn't a choice." He moved his weight from side to side, uncomfortable from the conversation, and cleared his throat. "I heard what happened."

I groaned. "I suppose everyone knows?"

"They're calling it 'Lennon's little incident'."

I groaned again and leaned against Elmo.

Judah inched a little closer. "What happened? Was it him?"

"I'm not sure."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean it was him, but it wasn't. Sometimes I have these dreams about him, only, in real life he's there while I'm sleeping."

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