Friendship on Fire (43 page)

Anything I tried to eat would come straight back up again, without fail. My brothers watched me with wary eyes but left me alone, which I was grateful for. My diary was my only source of escape. It held the thoughts and feelings I couldn't share with anyone else in my life right now.

I did not speak to anyone that I didn't have to.

On Thursday I convinced my parents that I needed another two days off school. Mum wasn't happy about the idea; however, Dad came to my rescue and said, ‘What would another two days hurt? It's the end of the term anyway.'

I remember trying to give him an appreciative look but it probably looked like a poor attempt at a frown. He nodded at me.

Searching the fridge for small, harmless things to nibble on, I came across strawberries and blueberries on Friday. Dad and the boys were out, so I relished the time to be alone and test my stomach. I cut up the berries and gingerly placed a tiny piece of strawberry in my mouth. Waiting with dread, I chewed and swallowed.

Nothing happened. I shrugged and placed a blueberry in my mouth. It slid down; my stomach didn't reject it. Quite the contrary; it growled viciously at me while I stared down at it, blinking.

What else could I eat? With more energy than I'd used in six days, I mounted a full-scale search in the fridge and pantry for edible items. There were barbeque shapes in the cupboard. I started on them after I downed the bowl of fruit. Fresh bread. I had two pieces of toast after I finished my share of shapes. Ice cream. It was mid-morning, but who cares? Vienetta was my favourite, so while I was on a roll, it was definitely on the cards. Although my stomach had shrunk from the lack of food I gave it this week, it welcomed the savage brunch I gave it now and begged for more.

On Sunday my food obsession had worn off and I was back to crying again. This can't be my new life. One where I cry at the drop of a hat and can't sleep or eat properly. It was ridiculous.

My brothers still ignored me and my parents trod carefully with every question they asked. I refused to talk about  what happened, though I was sure someone kind would have filled them in on the whole debacle.

I dreaded Monday morning. The sun set early on Sunday night and I felt the familiar feeling of my new friend, panic, in the pit of my stomach. I couldn't face them. I couldn't face a world full of strangers, let alone the ones who broke my heart.

Accosting my parents in front of the TV, I said, ‘Mum, Dad, I'm still not sleeping well …' before Treston interrupted.

‘Daisy, it's been a week. The longer you stay away, the more attention you'll draw to yourself. You need to get back into your life, or everyone will think that they've won, when they haven't. You're stronger than this.'

His eyes showed that he genuinely believed what he said, but I wasn't nearly there yet.

I turned on my heel and went back to my room, picking up a bag of potato chips on the way.

refused to look at anyone on the way to school. Hell, I could have been hit by a car or a bike and I wouldn't have looked up for them. I avoided any voices that sounded remotely familiar and hid in the common room's bathroom as much as I could bear.

I knew I was being extreme. I knew all the logical arguments for why I should get out there and shove it back at them. The simple fact was, I wasn't yet strong enough.

My teachers left me alone, too. I'd heard that teachers have radar for kids with bad days, but I'd never had to test it out before.

And so it continued like this for the last week of term. Skye tried her best to bait me but she was either half-hearted about it or I ignored most of what she said. I couldn't decide which.

Roman watched me from a distance and Rachael was mostly nowhere to be seen. Well, good. I couldn't account for my behaviour if I did bump into her in a hallway somewhere.

On Friday night I dreaded the family coming over for dinner. I could try to fake an illness, but it probably wouldn't work anymore unless it was cancer, so I might as well give up and just not talk to them over dinner. If I had to be there, I would, but they couldn't make me talk.

Mum and Dad were a lot more conniving than I previously thought. I was hunting around for some snakes or redskins when my parents cornered me in the kitchen.

‘Talk to us, sweetheart. Tell us how you're feeling. You're worrying us.' They stood before me, frowning, eyes pleading, shoulder to shoulder. Trapped.

‘I don't want to talk about it,' I said quietly, opening the packet of snakes and taking five out.

‘You haven't talked about anything for two weeks now. It can't be healthy for your body to bottle it up inside, either. And you haven't been eating properly …' Mum caught herself before she started another health lecture.

Raising my head, I said more to them in one sentence than I had in the last two weeks. ‘How do you think I feel? I feel betrayed, that's how it is for me. Betrayed by the people I thought I could trust above everyone else. To me, friendship and commitment are now both lies. I'm sorry if I'm not the best person to be around at the moment. You will have to get used to it.'

I folded my arms defiantly and waited for their lecture.

Dad stepped in. ‘We understand that you're disappointed. Everyone will disappoint you at some stage in your life. It's how you deal with it that matters for you,' he said earnestly.

How cliche. I showed my irritation. ‘Don't you think I know that? I
try
to think positively. How can I forget about them and what they've done to me? I will have to see Rach every day at school and I was seeing Nate most days of the week before this happened. I replay what I saw in my head every minute of every day and it sickens me because I can't figure out where I went wrong.
Everyone
knows what they did; I'm the laughing stock of both schools.'

I breathed heavily after my long speech.

‘You'd be surprised how quickly people forget, Dais. They care for about a week then move on to the next rumour or scandal they can get their hands on,' he continued.

‘Actually, they just stare at me and whisper whenever I walk into a room; they don't have to talk to me about it to make me feel like I'm being scrutinised. And I deserve it because I should have seen it coming.' I said that before I meant it to come out.

‘What do you mean? Who can predict when people will hurt us?' Mum asked.

I was nearly stuttering with bitterness.

‘Think about it. I never met his parents, or his friends. I was never a
real
part of his life. He only wanted me when he had time for me and when I wasn't available for him he turned to Rachael without me knowing it. I should have listened to Roman and my brothers and taken things slower.'

I sat on a bar stool and rested my chin in my hands, defeated.

‘That's not your fault. You trusted him. You can't blame yourself for trusting someone,' Dad said. He was always practical and it annoyed me.

I wanted to scream with frustration at their simple answers for everything I was feeling. Life wasn't simple; there was no way they could make me feel better by minimising the truth.

Luckily the phone rang then and Dad went to get it.

I whispered hotly. ‘You both don't get it. I'm naive. I am forgiving and kind and stupid. I let him in after I saw dodgy signs of his personality because I was so blinded by his charm. Yes I pulled him up on how he'd treat people at times, but it sure didn't stop me from staying with him. I'm stupid,' I said, hitting myself on the forehead.

‘You aren't stupid. You are the nicest girl I know. That's something to be proud of, not ashamed of,' Mum said with a strained voice and grabbed my hand away from my head.

‘Mum, I have to get over the fact that
nice
people get walked over. They are boring, predictable and can't hold on to their boyfriends.' My voice broke on the last word.

‘Careful, Daisy. I'm happy to listen to you but I won't have you pulling yourself down like that. It's not fair and it's not true. At some point I will tell you to snap out of it,' Mum said, folding her arms.

‘Yeah? It won't do anything to help me. I'm in this frame of mind whether you or I like it. I have been made to feel like everything I have to offer is worth nothing,' I spat, and more information than I ever meant to share was thrown out into the sea, now irretrievable.

‘Everything? How can you evaluate that?' she demanded, frowning.

I looked at her with my eyebrows raised. Dad was still talking on the phone in the background.

‘Think about it, Mum,' I said quietly.

‘What? How serious were you with Nate?'

I looked down at my hands, white at the knuckles from clasping the bench. I didn't know what to say; I felt ashamed.

Tears suddenly filled her eyes as she read my face and she was unable to respond. I knew then I had disappointed her more than I thought was possible. Up until now I hadn't told her anything intimate about Nate and me. There was no real reason why I didn't; maybe I was a chicken, maybe I didn't want to see her face like I saw it now, maybe I liked the idea that I had a secret no one knew about. Now I wasn't so smug.

I tried to back pedal. ‘Mum, listen, it truly is my fault. I should have asked him the hard questions early on. But I was so curious about him I didn't want to hear what he had to say if it meant I couldn't see him anymore. I didn't want the truth,' I rambled, and then added, ‘It might not have changed anything.'

‘I haven't brought you up to be so undiscerning, have I Daisy?' Her eyes bore holes into mine. ‘So reckless?'

‘No. Now can you see why I hate myself? I've given up parts of myself I didn't think I would. Not yet. How can I go back to being how I was before? The happy, confident Daisy who would stand up against anyone for injustice?' I looked into her eyes with resignation. ‘I'll tell you one thing I've learnt. Living in ignorance is a lot less painful than knowing all the horrible things people can do to each other.'

Mum looked down as she fought to compose herself. I felt horrible, like I'd betrayed her. ‘You
are
still that person. A person who has been hurt and will need space and nurturing to fully heal.'

I wrapped my hands around my stomach. ‘I feel like I will never heal. My stomach hurts unbearably all day and sometimes I feel like I'm going to pass out from it.'

Mum nodded and said, ‘That is a sign of great stress, but it will pass, along with the other hurt you feel.'

‘Do you know what the worst part is? I still want him so badly. I long for him. I shouldn't, but I do. It eats away at me until I can't stop crying. I can't flick off the switch like that,' I said, snapping my fingers for extra effect.

Mum patted my hand. ‘Sex has a way of binding us to a person in ways we didn't know were possible. It can feel impossible to break; it probably should never have to be broken. I wish you didn't have to know about this stuff yet. You are so young to be hurt this deeply.'