25
ST. ANNABEL
I love Spain. It is my favourite holiday country and I have spent a couple birthdays here that I remember quite fondly.
There are seven of us in the air on our way there to celebrate Anastasia’s birthday for the weekend.
I made a deal with Joe to steal her away before my mother could realise she was gone so that by then it was too late for her to object and it’s not like she’ll fire him, he is practically family.
Harley isn’t with us, she is still cross with me. I can’t fault her for it but I wish she were here.
The Lancaster Jet is our mode of transport.
After the day we saw Nic at the club, I told him about Stassie’s birthday and he offered at once.
The more troubling part was getting Arden to put aside his unnecessary hate for him to get onto the jet, it was truly one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.
Don’t let the suit fool you, he can be petulant when he wants to be.
I couldn’t even tempt him with sex, we are still waiting for the right time.
Instead he is now determined to find petty things to beat him in, they already promised each other a game of tennis which of course already had its winner in Arden.
However, the impending football game will definitely be won by Nic.
As of now, since we are on air, they are stuck to chess.
They’re doing first to three; Arden has won two and Nic has won one, so if Arden wins this one he will be crowned.
“How long will this go on for?” MJ huffs in my ear, distracting me from my book ( Mansfield Park ).
“Hopefully not any longer than required,” I whisper back. Arden wins soon after and you can tell he is feeling particularly smug by the twitch on his lips fighting a grin.
“That’s the difference between an amateur and a seasoned player, Nicholas. You can learn a thing or two from me,” he says, giving Nic a non-committal shrug.
Who then counters and says, “Let’s do first to five.”
“I’d tell you to bow out gracefully but there’s no world in which I’m passing up the opportunity to show you what a real loss is.”
“Perhaps not,” I tell MJ who goes back to her phone with a grumble.
“Are we there yet?” My sister asks to the left of me.
“We are still the air, so clearly not, Anastasia,” Dan responds in place of me.
“I’m obviously aware of that, Daniel. I wanted to know how soon we’d be getting there.”
“Forty minutes.”
“You’re not the pilot, how could you possibly know that?”
The air hostess walks by at the right moment and Daniel uses that moment to dial up the charm, “Darling, can I ask you a question?”
The very gorgeous brunette with her hair in a bun with her loose curls hanging off, stops and smiles. She instantly cocks her hips, puts one foot in front of the other and flirtatiously smiles. “Happy to help, Mr Akinson.”
“Perfect. Do we have an estimated landing time?”
“Yes. It should be forty to forty five minutes.”
Stassie is raging, you can practically see the steam coming out of her ears meanwhile Dan is grinning at being proven right. He says to the air hostess, “Thank you so much.”
The girl who evidently can’t take a hint that Dan isn’t going to have sex with her (a common misconception) is still standing there despite the polite dismissal. Stassie notices and snarls, “You may go now.”
At this rate, I am never going to finish my book. A ridiculously rowdy bunch these lot were. I miss Harley.
???
Everyone is delegated a room as soon as we arrive.
There are five bedrooms but the master is firmly for mother and father, no exceptions, so really it was only four and on account of it being her birthday Anastasia doesn't have to share her room which left Dan and Nic, MJ and Arden, then Devon and I.
“I can’t remember the last time we shared a room together,” I say to my roommate, after I get out of the shower, who is changing out of her shorts and hoodie into something appropriate for dinner.
“Austria in year twelve,” Devon answers as she comes out of the walk-in.
I forgot about that actually. It is around this time we had a school ski trip to the alps, Dan and Arden had already graduated by then so it was only us three.
I wanted to room with MJ but Mrs. Duffy being our lead chaperone had other ideas, her ability to hold a grudge knew no bounds.
She thought MJ and I were disruptive during her math lessons, she hated us. So, MJ was stuck with Chloe York.
“I remember you being upset about us rooming.”
“What I was upset about was you and Madeleine-James being unbearable at night.”
MJ couldn’t hack rooming with Chloe, she was convinced she'd get diseases. She showed up just after curfew with her pillow and duvet in hand, I had no choice but to let her stay.
“We did say to join us. You insisted you were tired and wanted to sleep early.”
I see her harden in the mirror and the temperature in the room suddenly gets chiller.
“Has it ever occurred to you that I wanted to spend time with you alone for fucking once?” she screams, and I’m more alarmed than anything.
Devon doesn't yell, she believes people who can’t get their point across without raising it are no better than animals.
“I’m so lost…”
“Ever since Madeleine-James came into our lives I became your second option. Two became three but there was still a duo in our trio and it never involved me. Not even ballet was safe because she was always there, cheering you on.” She is crying now, her chest heaving with each word and I become increasingly alarmed but more so shitty.
How did I not realise this was how she felt? Am I that self-absorbed?
“I thought maybe you felt you had outgrown me and stayed out of obligation,” I admit.
“How can you even fucking think that St. Annabel? Other than Arden, we did everything together. There were no more sleepovers with just us two, no more monthly sundae sundays and as stupid as this sounds we never went into the girls sixth form bathroom to sneak fags. You did all that with her and she has asthma!” (Not the point but I feel the need to clear up that we only ever did this a couple…
or five times). “And worst of all, when she clearly stole the boy you were in love with, you stuck by her.”
I don’t know what to say except to settle with the truth of everything she has said. Nothing can be excused because I’m not so sure I can give you a real reason as to why I cast Devon aside in that way and let myself be so consumed with MJ.
Walking towards her, not touching because in her state I don’t know how she will react. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I knew how it came across, it made me sound like a child whining over something so trivial. By the time I realised how I felt, I had let the resentment build too much.”
“Honesty is the one thing about our relationship that is solid. I wish you told me,” I reply.
“I guess I was scared that if I said something, you’d stop being friends all together. Being the substitute friend was better than not being one at all.”
“Hani, if there is anyone in this world who is quite literally the opposite of that, it’s you. But you’re right, my relationship with MJ has been something I haven’t forced myself to consider until recently.”
I blow out a sharp breath before finding the courage to reveal what I’m about to tell her, “I used to hurt myself a lot back when we were in school.”
Her face scrunches up, “In what way?”
“Nicking myself by ‘accident’ or burning my thighs with a lighter since it was the least noticeable place for anyone to ask questions,” I say with a shrug, like it is the least interesting thing that has happened to me.
“Which did prove particularly difficult to hide during ballet but I managed to find a way as long as I could keep hurting myself.”
Devon stares at me, her upset plastered on her face. “How and why did I not know about this?”
“I didn’t want anyone to. MJ found out because she caught me doing it, I didn’t set out to tell her. I was sad. About my father, about who I was as a person and MJ helped me escape the terror of my mind that I was too scared to sit with alone.”
She looks at me like she is going through every moment of our life together, trying to piece where she went wrong without noticing. “Don’t eat yourself up about it. You couldn’t have known,” I firmly express . “Arden didn’t and still doesn’t.”
“You don’t do it anymore, right?” she asks, looking at me expectantly with a fear in her eyes that I need to get rid of. I refuse to be the person people walk on eggshells around.
“I’m sorry,” I say, rather than answer her question.
“What?”
“I said I am sorry. Sorry that I made you feel like I wasn’t someone you could go to. I can’t change the past but I do hope you’ll give me the chance to change our future.”
She scrutinises me, likely trying to gauge if I mean it. A knock on the door brought us out of the conversation.
“Annie,” Stassie draws out. “Nicky says we have to leave in ten minutes.”
“We’ll be out in a second!” I bellow in response. I hear the click-clack of heels down the stairs and not once do I take my eyes off my friend who is wiping away the tears on her face but the streaks remain. No matter how much we try to hide our hurt with easy fixes the scars remain.
“Can I help fix your makeup?” I ask. An olive branch.
“Are you saying I look bad?”
???
“...Happy birthday dear Stassie, happy birthday to you.” We all chorus together as we sit in the private room of the restaurant we booked and then my sister blows out all eighteen of her candles.
Stassie and I are only two and half years apart in age and still it feels like watching a child leave the nest growing without you.
I remember when she’d come to me on cold, loud weathered nights unable to sleep. I always assumed it was because on the day she came to us it had been a day like that, and though she was a baby, the remnants of the day were imprinted in her mind as the day she had been left behind.