Chapter 4
Four
‘IF WE SHOULD FAIL?’
‘We fail? But screw your courage to the sticking-place, and we’ll not fail.’
It was late. Obi and I were rehearsing in the school canteen, the only spare room we could find. The chairs were stacked, the shutters pulled down. A miasma of chip fat hung about the place. I’d dragged two tables together where we now sat, our legs dangling from the edge.
‘Bring forth men-children only,’ he said. ‘For thy undaunted mettle should compose nothing but males. Will it not be received, when we have marked with blood those sleepy two of his own chamber, and used their very daggers, that they have done ’t?’
I looked at Obi, but he avoided my gaze. ‘Who dares receive it other, as we shall make our griefs and clamour roar, upon his death?’ This was the moment when we’d rehearsed me touching his chest. I came forward. But Obi, sensing the impulse, leaned away.
He slapped the script shut and jumped down from the table. ‘There.’ He stuffed it inside his bag. ‘That should do it.’
‘Wait, where are you going?’
‘Home.’
‘But we said we’d rehearse for another twenty minutes.’
‘We’ll be fine.’
‘Showcase is next week, and we’ve barely touched the scene.’
‘My bus leaves in six minutes.’
‘We should go over it again.’
‘I don’t think we need to.’
‘Well, I think we do.’ I said it more forcefully than I’d meant to. It was the first time I’d raised my voice at him, at anyone.
Obi dropped his bag. ‘What’s this about, Shannon?’
‘Excuse me?’
‘What do you want from me?’
‘What do I want from you? I want – I don’t know – I want the scene to be good. I want showcase to go well. I want an agent. I want you to talk to me. I want you to look at me.’ I felt tears prick the corners of my eyes. ‘I want, I want you to act like my boyfriend again.’
I regretted the words immediately. My boyfriend. God, I was an idiot. Saying it, actually saying it out loud, it was obvious. Of course he wasn’t my boyfriend any more, of course not. How could he be after everything that had happened?
‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry.’
I glanced up, taken aback.
‘I’ve been acting like a monster. And you’ve been . . .’ He trailed off. ‘It’s just – I’ve not been coping very well.’
‘It’s OK,’ I said, guilt flooding my veins. Obi had nothing to apologize for. I was the one behaving like a monster.
‘She was your friend, I know that, but . . .’ He paused. ‘Look, before Christmas, we—’ He frowned. ‘We shouldn’t have done what we did, Shannon.’
‘But she told me she was happy for us,’ I said, leaving out the part where she’d tumbled to her death moments later. ‘She gave us her blessing.’
‘Her blessing – what does that even mean? Victoria didn’t know what was good for her, let alone what was right for other people. Her blessing?’
‘Obi—’
‘She wasn’t some goddess, Shannon. She didn’t just get to hand out blessings to whoever she wanted.’
‘Obi, come on—’
‘No, no, I’m sorry, but you always act like everything she said or did mattered more than what anyone else said or did.’
‘That’s not true.’
‘It is!’
‘Fine. Whatever.’ I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear and waited. ‘So what do we do now?’
Obi sighed. I wanted to reach out and touch him, to hold his hand, to draw him close. But I couldn’t. Everything was different now.
He kicked his bag back under the table. ‘We can keep going with the scene. I can stay another fifteen minutes. But—’ He stopped. ‘We, you know, probably shouldn’t . . . any more.’
‘OK,’ I said. I stared ahead at the window, at the black night beyond the mirrored glass. ‘I understand.’ In my reflection I could almost see her, I could almost make her out, sitting there, smirking from where she’d been watching me all along.