Chapter Thirty-Nine
It is so weird how a person can look so much exactly the same, while also being completely transformed.
In my mind, Flo Williams has been this tiny, fragile victim for so long, I can’t quite comprehend this fully adult woman with so much confidence and a sarcastic sense of humour can be the same person. And yet, there’s that nose. There’s that same fringe that she flicks away with the same small hand with chewed nails. She laughs now, and it’s that same bloody giggle she had aged nine.
‘And do you remember Mr Johnson who taught us for a term in Year Four?’ She throws her head back laughing, her mid-length hair swishing around her shoulders in the wind.
‘I do,’ I nod happily. ‘And how Martin Mantle told everyone what “Johnson” meant, and nobody could answer, “Here, Mr Johnson,” during the register without sniggering.’
‘Yes!’ Flo grins. ‘And then everyone got convinced Mr Johnson was having an affair with the school secretary, Mrs Grain, because someone saw them talking at breaktime.’
‘And Martin Mantle kept telling everyone Mr Johnson was giving Mrs Grain his Johnson.’
‘Even though,’ Flo muses, ‘in hindsight, I’m pretty sure Mrs Grain was about forty years older than Mr Johnson.’
‘I still think they were at it, and I’m sure Martin Mantle would agree with me, whatever he’s doing now,’ I comment dryly. Flo laughs that familiar laugh, as a dog bounds up with a stick in its mouth. She accepts the gift, lobbing it back out onto the field. We watch in silence as it runs about in the open air with pure joy.
My old school friend and I have been sitting on this park bench near Flo’s house for thirty minutes already, and so far, we’ve managed to avoid the reason we’re here. Instead, we’ve been reliving silly memories from primary school. The time before.
‘I guess,’ Flo begins hesitantly, ‘I guess everyone was getting picked on or teased in some way or another. Even the teachers.’ She lets this hang, as I stare at my hands.
‘I’m so sorry, Flo,’ I say at last in a quiet voice. ‘I’m really, really sorry. For all of it. You have no idea how much I regret what happened. What I did.’
She sighs, wrapping her coat around herself as the wind picks up around us.
‘I know, Gin.’
I wait, barely breathing, and at last, she turns slightly to me.
‘I’ll be honest, I was really angry with you back then. Really angry. I was madder with you than that cow, Mindy.’
‘I get it,’ I nod. ‘I was, too.’
Despite that, she keeps going. ‘You were my best friend.’ There is pain in her voice. ‘And you just disappeared.’ I stay silent, knowing this is important for her to say. ‘I struggled to trust people when I got to the new school; I thought they’d abandon me, too. I felt like I’d lost everything.’
I don’t say that I felt the same way.
Flo audibly swallows, before continuing. ‘But Mum made me meet with a counsellor, and she was great. I worked through it. She helped me understand that you were just protecting yourself. That you were just as scared and lonely as me.’ I give a small nod, trying not to cry, as she adds, ‘It took me some time, but I realized that being angry was just hurting me. It was self-destructive.’ She pauses. ‘I forgave you. I do forgive you. We were just kids.’
The tightness in my chest loosens.
‘Thank you,’ I say at last.
She smiles. ‘I better get these idiots home.’ She waves at her dogs, calling them in. I nod again, not trusting myself to speak. All this guilt – years of it poisoning a part of me – has lifted. My heart feels light and grateful.
I’ve accomplished prediction number five – the person I thought lost forever.
As we say our goodbyes, she gets this weird little smile on her face.
‘My brother really liked you, you know?’
‘Zach?’ I reply dumbly, feeling strange about how often people bring him up around me. She rolls her eyes, laughing and flicking her fringe again.
‘He kept on at me for weeks about meeting up with you and talking things through.’ She pauses. ‘Like I said, I’d forgiven you a long time ago, but I also didn’t want anything to do with you, obvs.’ She shrugs an apology and I nod a fair enough. ‘But he kept saying what a great person you are now and emphasizing how much people change after the age of twelve.’ She frowns, amused. ‘I get the impression he thinks you’re a bit wonderful.’
‘He does?’ I reply, confused.
‘Don’t worry,’ she adds quickly. ‘He’s over it now, he’s not going to ask you out. He knows you’re taken.’
‘Taken?’ I say, shocked. ‘I’m not taken. I’m single!’
She hooks the lead onto the dogs’ harnesses, barely glancing up. ‘Oh?’ she says disinterestedly. ‘He said you were in a relationship.’
As I walk away, I can’t stop thinking about her words.
Was Zach just trying to reassure Flo? Make sure she knew he wasn’t interested in her traitor former friend?
It’s not like I can ask him. I’ve made a move three times now. I can’t ask him yet again why he doesn’t like me.
And either way, like Flo said, he’s over it now. Too much has happened. It all got so complicated: exes hanging around, lying cheats, me on mushrooms claiming to be a unicorn. It would’ve scared anyone off. Never mind the weird extra layers of history I have with his family.
I get it. I understand. It’s not going to happen.
It’s time to let it go.