10 Tarzan Swing
Fri, Apr 11 - 17:41 PM
Finn: Can’t you come back now? I miss you already. X
Me: I miss you too! If I could drive, I’d steal the car keys and drive back right this second. I don’t know how I’m going to last an entire week with my family out here. They’re already driving me crazy x
Finn: I can teach you to drive you over the phone??? Have you arrived? X
Me: Oh, I am not an audio learner…I’d end up in a ditch within the first mile lol. Yeah - just got to the lodge. The signal’s pretty crap here. I’ve had to cycle down to the cafe to get wi-fi to send this. Sorry if I’m slow to reply! I’ll check in as often as I can x
Finn: I’m glad you made it there safe. And no stress. I hope you have a great time mister! I can’t wait to hear all about it. Xxx
Three hours in the car have left me with the mother of all headaches. Not helped by George refusing to put his headphones in whilst playing his stupid game, Mum asking twenty questions per hour and Dad not knowing how to brake gradually. Every time we slowed down, its like we were nodding dogs on the dashboard.
‘Excuse me, is your name Cameron?’ the middle-aged waitress asks, approaching my table.
‘Um, yes?’ I reply.
‘You’re Tracy and Simon’s boy, aren’t you?’
‘I am, yes!’ I look over her wrinkles and dusty blonde hair, but can’t place her. ‘Sorry, have we met?’
‘You probably don’t remember me…You haven’t been back here in a few years, have you?’
‘No, we’ve done some other holidays for the past couple of years, but Mum fancied coming back. How do you know Mum and Dad?’
‘I remember all the old regulars. The nice ones at least.’ She smiles, and it’s like a light switch flicks in my mind.
‘Oh! You’re Jeanette!’ I say, now remembering Mum asking on the way down, ‘Do you think Jeanette still works there?’
‘The very same.’ She touches her name badge to draw my attention to it. Her name is peeling off the metal Center Parcs name tag, so much so that she has to flatten it down with one finger for me to be able to read it.
‘I think we’re coming down here for dinner tonight, so you’ll be able to catch up with Mum and Dad.’ I smile.
‘Fantastic! Is your little brother with you…’ Her eyes close as she thinks. ‘Wait, don’t tell me…Gary?’
‘It’s George, but you can call him Gary if you want.’
‘Ah! I was so close!’ She laughs at her dismay. ‘Are you here with the Wests?’
My heart drops into my shoes at the mention of his name, even in plural format.
‘Nah, we don’t really speak anymore,’ I say, making it sound less important than it is and hoping the conversation moves on.
‘Oh, that’s a shame. Well, they’re here actually.’
It’s like someone’s just poured freezing cold water over me. All my hairs stand up on end, causing goosebumps to ripple down my neck and arms.
‘They—They’re here?’ I’m already planning my escape route and watching the door in case West walks in at that very moment.
‘Yeah, they were just in here for lunch. Didn’t see their son, though…The tall handsome one, Gabriel. He wasn’t with them.’
My heartbeat returns and I feel my skin warm again.
‘He wasn’t?’
‘Didn’t see him. Anyway, I should probably go do some work. Do you want another coffee?’ She points down at my empty cup.
‘No. I’m okay, thanks.’
Jeanette gives me a thumbs-up, smiles and sweeps the coffee cup off the table and into her hand.
‘Tell your mum and dad I’m looking forward to catching up.’
‘Will do! Thanks Jeanette.’
***
‘We have a problem,’ I say, bursting into the lodge and stepping over the plastic tubs of food awaiting to be unpacked into the kitchen.
Mum pops her head up from behind the kitchen counter, as Dad pokes his head out of the bedroom. George doesn’t bother to look up from his game whilst slouched on the sofa.
‘What is it?’ Mum asks, a carton of eggs in one hand and a block of cheese in the other.
‘The Wests are here.’
There’s a long pause.
‘Oh, is that it?’ Dad says before disappearing back into the bedroom.
‘Gosh Cameron, we thought something had happened?’ Mum says, rolling her eyes and returning to filling the fridge.
‘Is no one bothered by this?’ I exclaim, throwing my hands open.
‘Why would we be?’ Mum asks patronisingly.
My blood boils and my stomach knots.
‘Are you kidding me?!’
‘Don’t speak to your mother like that.’ Dad emerges again with a pointed finger.
‘Well, I’m sorry, but he’s made my life a living hell for years!’
‘You never mentioned anything,’ George pipes up from the sofa, still fixated on his game.
‘No one asked you!’ I shout so loudly it echoes back from the walls.
‘Right!’ Mum shouts even louder. ‘That’s enough! You can’t just walk in here and start having a go at us. You haven’t mentioned Gabriel in years, so how are we supposed to know you don’t get on?’
‘I’m sure I have,’ I mumble.
‘Well, I’ve never heard it.’ Mum waves a cucumber into the fridge.
‘I thought you hated the Wests too?’
‘I think hate’s a very strong word.’
‘We lost touch,’ Dad starts, ‘but we never hated them. They moved out of the street and life got in the way.’
What he’s saying makes sense, but my nails are still digging into my palm.
‘Did you speak to them?’ Mum asks as I puzzle inside my mind.
‘Well, no. I saw Jeanette at the café, she said they were here.’
‘Oh, Jeanette’s still here!’ Mum shouts excitedly.
‘You didn’t see Gabriel then?’ Dad asks to clarify.
‘No. And to be fair, Jeanette didn’t see him either.’
I just now start realising I’ve induced this conversation without just cause.
‘I don’t see what the problem is?’ George asks, now choosing to face me and share his disapproving look of shit-baggery.
‘Just leave it,’ I say, biting my teeth together tightly.
I grab my duffel bag, throw it over my shoulder and stride to my room. Launching the bag onto the bed, I kick off my shoes and fall back into the door to close it. I hold my back against the door to try to calm myself down. I feel a ball inflating in my throat, while my breath gets shorter and shorter. My stomach rises into my ribcage as I try to catch my breath. Panic sets in and tears begin to bubble on my eyelashes. I’m careful to stay quiet, but it’s proving difficult as saliva crackles in my cheeks.
I grasp control of my breathing by gripping the headboard of the bed. I take several long and deep breaths that help me stop crying and allow my chest to ease into normalcy. My mind brings up West again and I have to battle with myself to hold back from cascading backwards.
‘Right, calm down,’ I whisper to myself.
I take several deep breaths and lie down on one of the single beds. I pull out my phone to call Geri. No signal. I clench my phone in my fist and hold back from launching it across the room.
There’s a knock at the door.
‘What?!’ I snap.
‘Can I come in?’ Dad asks.
‘Do what you want,’ I say, rolling onto my side and facing the other bed, keeping my back to the door.
Dad closes the door behind him and his footsteps circle the bottom of my bed. He sits down on the other bed.
‘Do you want to talk about it?’ he asks quietly.
‘Not really,’ I say, wiping streaks off my cheeks.
‘If Gabriel was one of the bullies, why is this the first we’re hearing of it?’
‘I don’t know.’
Dad leaves silence to inflate the room.
‘Alright, well, if you think of something, you let me know.’ He gets up to leave.
I look up to catch his eye and stop him from leaving.
‘I didn’t know how to say it.’ I hold my voice as steady as I can.
‘Say what?’ he asks, sitting back down.
‘Like, if he did something. Picked on me, shoved me, said something…at the time and case by case, I suppose the incidents just seemed silly to bring up. But all together, it’s a pretty shitty way to treat someone.’
‘Language,’ he says deeply.
‘I’m not twelve Dad.’
He pauses. Surprisingly not confronting my backchat. ’You know you could’ve come to me,’ Dad says.
‘Well, when I’d been berated for several hours at school, by the time I got home, I actually didn’t want to think about it. Let alone say it aloud. I just wanted to be at home and enjoy my moments of peace before it all started again the next day.’
Dad goes quiet. I can see him lining up words to say, but he hesitates.
‘What?’ I prod.
‘Nothing.’ He shakes his head and inhales. ‘Is this still going on?’
‘Not exactly,’ I reply flatly.
‘I didn’t hear a no.’
I shrug.
‘Is there something I can do?’ he asks.
I bury my head into the pillow to shut him out to close the conversation. Dad sighs, then claps his hands to his knees, picking himself up off the bed. He puts one hand on my head and ruffles my hair slightly.
‘I’m always here for you bud,’ he says.
I twist my head out of the pillow and stare at his indent in the bed. The bedroom door opens and closes behind him.
***
‘What time does it finish?’ asks Dad.
‘Not sure, it says it’s an hour online,’ I reply.
‘Okay, the three of us will go and get a coffee and meet you at the end in an hour.’
George’s mouth creases backwards. ‘Don’t die,’ he says.
‘Gee, thanks.’
Two days into a week-long holiday and I’m already wishing for this to be over. There’s something about being away that just makes everyone extra them. Mum keeps asking about what activities we want to do and whether we’ve booked them yet, George is being his consistent pain-in-the-arse self, and Dad’s constantly trying to make conversation about things that really have no relevance.
‘You here for High Ropes?’ a deep feminine voice asks from the log cabin.
I look over from sending my family off to notice it’s Emily. ‘No way! Do you remember me?!’
‘Didn’t I save your first date from complete disaster?’ She smirks.
‘Yes. Yes, you did!’ I grin, and that warm homely feeling creeps back in.
‘It went well then?’
‘It did! We’re still going out, so I guess I have you to thank for that.’
‘Oh, stop.’ She pretends to be embarrassed. ‘I was actually pissed off with my manager that day and giving you two free tickets was my little rebellion.’
‘Well, I’m forever grateful…What are you doing here?’ I ask.
‘I’m a seasonal instructor. I work here in the summer and at the ice rink in the winter. It suits me pretty well.’ She glances behind me to see a line forming.
‘That’s awesome.’
‘Here, just sign that and head over to Nick down the side. He’ll get you in your harness.’
‘Thanks Emily. And hey, if you’ve got some time off, do you fancy hanging out?’
‘For sure! Give me your number,’ she says.
I proceed to write it down on a leaflet from a pile on the counter, and slide it over as the next person steps up to check in. As she takes the leaflet, I catch the pride bracelet again. This time, she catches me looking at it and winks.
Walking around the back of the lodge, I follow laminated paper signs that say, Harness Fitting This Way. Behind the building, I find an open-air shed with several colour-coded harnesses all hanging on hooks. There, I assume, is Nick. He’s wearing a fitted black t-shirt that makes no effort to hide his voluptuous pecks and black cargo trousers that, despite their many pockets, show off his thick thighs beautifully. And sweet Mary and Joseph. A harness that…that’s just…I’m beginning to sweat. I can’t stop staring at it.
He asks me something I don’t understand. His thick Scottish accent has made three words sound like one long noise that I have to unpick with my brain. ‘High Ropes lad?’ I think he said.
‘Yeah,’ I cough the crack out of my throat.
‘Here-ya. Let’s get you suited.’ He gestures me over to the wall of hanging harnesses. ‘Medium,’ he states, having looked me up and down.
Nick takes a harness off the wall, places it on the ground and pulls the leg holes apart.
‘Step in here,’ he instructs.
I step in, and with no warning, he whisks it up to my waist. He tightens one side over my right hip, then the left. My eyes widen as the tightening straps pull up my bum cheeks and make my back wriggle unintentionally. I glance at his biceps… Wow. Finn’s got competition.
He pulls the remaining harness over my shoulders, his knuckles resting on my collarbone as he pulls everything taut. The rhythmic tugging forces me to try to think about something else. Umm…Picking up dog poo. Nan baking cookies. The Sound of Music. Nick taking his shirt off. No, no! Umm…Disney World. Building Lego. Building Lego with Nick. Maybe Nick takes his shirt off…
‘Right, you’re all set.’ Nick gently pats my back.
‘Thanks,’ I blurt.
Nick leans into me. ‘Right, you’re gonna down there, station number six. Wait with the others and the instructor, Kat, will talk you through the health and safety stuff in a minute.’
I nod to receive his instructions and repeat them in my head to stop myself from getting any more excited. Walking further away from Nick, it’s like his dissipating testosterone allows me the space to focus on the task at hand.
There are seven or eight teenagers, father-and-son combos and a couple of adults all sat on logs in front of the start of the High Ropes course.
I approach a space on a log and sit down. I look up at the first platform, which is about ten metres in the air. My foot starts to jitter.
‘What the hell are you doing here?’ I hear from one side.
I turn, and just by his sitting posture, I instantly realise it’s West. I swallow as my harnessed spine tenses.
‘Oh. Hello,’ I reply above the sound of my tumbling gut.
‘Hello everyone and welcome to High Ropes!’A tall and lanky woman with long, straight brown hair tied up in a ponytail gathers everyone’s attention.
I look over to her and then back to West. Neither of us can decide whether to look at each other or the instructor.
‘I’m Kat, and I’m going to run through some important safety information. When you come up to the ladder, please make sure you—’
‘Seriously, what are you doing here?’ he asks.
‘Clearly, I’m on holiday. Just as you are. Now, can you just shut up? I don’t want to die doing this,’ I say, pointing up to the wooden fabrications.
West scoffs and leans back.
‘Who’s that?’ someone whispers next to him.
I lean back slightly to see West’s little brother, Elliot.
‘Cameron!’ he shouts, launching himself off the log towards me.
Elliot jumps into my chest, throwing his arms around my neck and pulling me down to his level. He bobs up and down, rocking my head in the process.
‘Hello trouble,’ I say, hugging him back.
‘Excuse me, boys, can you listen?’ Kat interrupts, drawing everyone’s attention to us.
‘Sorry!’ I reply to Kat before pulling Elliot’s arms off my neck. ‘I’ll see you in a minute. Go and sit down.’
Elliot complies and pushes himself off my knees to run back around to the other side of West.
‘Don’t tell him what to do,’ West interjects.
Well that was uncalled for.
Once the talk is over, we’re asked to form a line at the start of the course. Elliot isn’t taking any hint from West and insists on lining up next to me.
‘I didn’t know you were coming with us Cameron?’ Elliot says to me with his adorable, innocent demeanour.
‘Well, I’m…We’re not actually—’ I start, kneeling down slightly to come to his eye level.
‘Cam’s not here with us, Ell. He just happens to be here with his family,’ West finishes.
‘Oh…’ Elliot thinks and looks down for a moment. He then snaps back to his excited self. ‘I’m eight now!’
‘Eight?!’ I exaggerate to entertain him.
‘Yeah! I can do this now, and I can do rock climbing, and I can do abseiling.’
‘Wow. You’re going to be very busy this week then aren’t you?’
‘I am! Although Gabe won’t go rock climbing with me,’ he sighs.
‘No?’ I ask, looking up to West.
‘It’s not that I won’t do it with you; it’s that I’m not allowed on same course as you. The limit is fifteen. We’ve been over this,’ West explains.
‘Oh.’ Elliot pauses. ‘Is George here?!’ he shouts.
‘He is, yes,’ I say.
‘When can we see him?’ Elliot asks West, looking up at him with puppy eyes.
‘I don’t think we will buddy.’
‘But why?’ he whines.
‘Next!’ Kat says, saving me from having to be part of this conversation any longer.
I clamber up the ladder as fast as possible to try to get a head start on the course. With them on the ground, I can hopefully get a few tasks ahead without it looking like I’m actively running away from West.
My plan, however, only works for about half of the course. A backlog of people at the Tarzan Swing means West and Elliot catch up with me. I raise my eyebrows and tighten my lips to greet West without actually having to speak to him.
‘What’s this?’ Elliot asks me.
I bend down and point at the ropes draped into the clearing.
‘You see that platform there? You have to step off that, then you fall a bit, the rope catches you and then swings you into the net.’
‘Cool!’ Elliot bobs.
‘Do you three want a picture together?’ the older man in front asks, noticing our interaction.
‘No, no, no, it’s fine,’ West and I say in unison.
West and I lock eyes.
‘Oh, please!’ Elliot whines.
‘It’s no trouble,’ the man says.
I look up at my harness attached to the cable and pulley system. I check if there’s a way of unlatching it and just taking my chances with jumping off the platform here. Considering the distance to the ground…that’s a no-go. Bollocks.
‘Here,’ West says, passing me his phone.
I pass the phone to the man, close my eyes to focus my attention and muster a convincing smile. I tell myself it’s for Elliot.
‘There you go,’ the man says, passing the phone back.
‘Thanks,’ I say.
‘Let me see!’ Elliot tugs on West’s arm to bring the phone down to himself.
Elliot takes the phone from West’s hand and shows me. In that picture, you wouldn’t believe West and I literally hated each other.
‘Pass it here Ell. I don’t want to drop it,’ West instructs, taking the phone back from Elliot.
He holds the phone in his palm, looking down at the photo, holds it there for a few seconds and studies it. He catches me looking. He rolls his eyes and shoves his phone back into his pocket.
‘Come on you!’ Emily instructs me up to the platform.
‘Hey,’ I say, relaxing into her aura.
‘Having fun?’ she asks.
‘Of course!’ I lie.
Emily attaches my harness to the Tarzan Swing fabrication of pulleys, cables and bungee cords. She double-checks my harness and points to the painted footprints on the edge of the platform to make me stand on them.
‘Ready?’ she asks.
I peer over the edge and see the drop-down to the muddy ground below. I might as well be about to sky dive. My bum tries to sit me down in fear before I force myself to stand taller and take in a deep breath.
‘Jesus Christ,’ I say to myself.
‘You can do it Cameron!’ Elliot shouts, catching me off guard.
I look back to smile at him. West looks away.
‘After three,’ Emily says. ‘One… two… three!’
***
‘George!’ Elliot shouts, running past me.
I stop in my tracks and look ahead. West’s parents are stood with Mum, Dad and George. West’s Mum is knelt down, patting Rosie and Jimmy, whilst West’s dad laughs at something my dad just said. Seeing them all together is like looking back in time. I watch George get pummelled by Elliot crashing into him at speed. West comes up next to me and stops, taking in the same sight.
‘Oh, for fuck’s sake,’ he utters.
West pauses and looks at me from the side of his eye.
‘Talk to me again this week, and I’ll end you Hawkins,’he adds before striding off and leaving me frozen in my place.
A million and one computations run through my mind. The best option: running into the woods, building a shelter out of fallen branches and living forever as a Big Foot legend.
‘Cam!’ Mum waves me over.
‘Just kill me now,’ I say to myself with a gritted smile, waving back.
‘Look who we ran into!’ Mum says as I get closer.
‘Hiya,’ I say to Nicola and Steve, raising a hand to try to seem moderately interested in seeing them.
‘Mummy, Mummy! We did the High Ropes with Cameron!’ Elliot excitedly tells Nicola.
‘Did you now?!’ she says playfully.
Dad spots West and extends his hand to shake it.
‘Hiya. Long time no see.’
‘Alright Simon. How’s things?’ West disappears, and happy-go-lucky Gabriel appears in a flash. He charms Dad with chat about F1 and some fitness Instagrammer they both follow.
I watch their interaction quietly seething. He makes me out to be a fool. How does he do that?
‘So lovely to catch up!’ Nicola says to Mum. ‘We’ll see you tomorrow night?’
‘Perfect! Looking forward to it.’
As the two families say their goodbyes, Elliot runs up to give me a parting hug. Then he pats Rosie and Jimmy on their heads.
‘Bye-bye doggies,’ he says.
He’s too cute for his own good. His infectious presence is almost enough to quell the spiralling of my mind.
‘See you Cam!’ West says.
My face widens and I fake a polite smile. I couldn’t exactly call him a manipulative bastard in front of our parents. Then again, why are we seeing them tomorrow? Is Dad deaf or just stupid?!
Mum passes the dogs to me as we start walking in the opposite direction to the Wests. Mum and George walk ahead as Dad joins me to take Rosie’s lead. I pinch the elbow of his jumper and pull him back a few paces so we’re out of Mum’s earshot.
‘What the hell happened?’ I ask.
‘What?’ He seems to play dumb.
‘Don’t give me that.’
‘We just got chatting to them. We sat in the café and they happened to be at the next table.’
‘But what’s this about seeing them tomorrow?’
‘Nicola invited us round to their lodge for dinner tomorrow. It’s not a big deal.’ He says it as if it isn’t the impending doom that it actually is.
‘And you accepted?!’ I say in a high pitch.
‘What was I supposed to do Cam? It’s not all about you ya know. Anyway, Gabriel seems like he’s being fine with you now.’
With that, my entire being is invalidated. A father-and-son relationship evaporated. Every feeling I’ve felt for him, every moment I thought we shared, gone in a string of words. I choose to stay quiet. I walk a few steps in front of him and let the dogs become a figurative and literal barrier between us.
‘Curry tonight?’ Mum turns back to ask.
‘Sounds good to me,’ Dad replies.
I think about saying yes, but what’s the point? It wouldn’t matter what I said either way.
‘Cam?’ Mum pokes.
‘Yeah, whatever,’ I muster.
***
West only looks at me when he knows our parents aren’t looking. Every time he does, it’s like the soul evaporates from behind his eyes and I’m reminded of every interaction over the past few years. At the dinner table, I purposely sat at the opposite end of him. I haven’t added to our parents’ small talk or George and Elliot’s babbling over Minecraft. He, however, is showing off every drop of personality he has: cracking jokes, telling funny stories, even engaging in current affairs. The worst thing is, I can tell Mum and Dad are eating it up.
After dinner, everyone has paired off. Mum and Nicola are pouring glasses of wine in the kitchen, gabbing about their mutual friends, Dad and Steve are out the back poking a fire pit, Elliot is draped over George, watching him play his game, whilst I’ve hunkered down in the armchair in the corner. I suspect West is off in his room or something, seeing as he’s taken a break from making the back of my neck crawl.
‘Would you like a drink Cam?’ Nicola asks, holding the fridge open.
‘I’m okay thanks,’ I reply.
‘Gabe?’ she asks loudly, looking over to one side at West, who emerges from a bedroom.
‘Can I have a beer?’ he asks.
‘Ask your dad.’
West walks over to the patio doors and slides them apart just enough to poke his head through and ask Steve.
Dad and Steve choose to come inside at the suggestion of beer. However, it looks like Steve denied West’s request. In them passing inside, West’s face screws before he connects with me across the living room. I turn away at being seen, but subtly dance my eyes around to watch him walk outside and slide the patio door behind him.
For twenty minutes, I listen to the parents’ conversation. All they do is talk about things that don’t matter and people I’ve never heard of. It’s all surface-level small talk…I don’t get why they all seem to like it so much. I look outside and see West’s head poking out of a jacket. It’s pushed up by him slouching in a deck chair facing the fire. His short black hair is occasionally lit in bright yellow and orange by the flickering flames. From this angle, I can’t tell if he looks sad or if perhaps that’s just what a dickhead looks like in its natural habitat.
It’s then, in this setting with our families together, laughing, that I remember the friend I had. Missing it catches me off guard. The extent to which I hate him fades, and summer bike rides, sleepovers and endless gaming sessions take over.
‘Actually, Nicola, is it alright if I get a drink?’ I ask.
‘Of course, help yourself to anything in the fridge.’
I push myself up from the armchair and pad over to the kitchen in my socks. In opening the fridge, I check behind me to see the parents are all still engaged in their conversations. An idea comes over me. I don’t allow myself time to think about it. I just pull two bottles of beer out of the fridge and hold them by my side to conceal them. Watching across the room, I let my hands slide the bottle opener off the counter. I cough twice to cover the sound of each crack and hiss as I open them. Gliding from the kitchen, I have to be careful to separate the bottles with my fingers to avoid them clattering together and arousing suspicion.
Prying the patio door open with my fingertips, I’m careful to watch if West turns around. He doesn’t. I gently slide the door closed and tip-toe over the cold patio to the fire pit. He’s got his back to the lodge, and I relax, knowing I won’t get busted for this. I approach his side from behind and hold a bottle out in front of him to gain his attention. It catches him by surprise, and he looks up at me, the bearer of beer. He sheepishly takes the bottle in one hand. I’m careful to let the gesture speak for itself and avoid smiling or saying anything. I let the bottle slide into his palm as he takes it and questions my motives.
‘I don’t need your help getting a beer,’ he says in a familiar, deep voice.
‘Apparently you do.’
I pull up a chair a quarter way round the fire pit. I check my positioning and look back through the patio doors to make sure the bottle can’t be seen. West brings his up to take a sip before he stops just before his bottom lip.
The fire crackling replaces conversation. I keep thinking of something to ask or say, but I think I’ve been kind enough already.
‘Remember that time we came here and the bathroom flooded?’ he says in an unfamiliar voice—one more Gabriel than West.
It catches me by surprise as beer bubbles over my lips. I think for a moment before the visual of Dad and Steve frantically running around the lodge reappears from archived memories.
‘Oh, yeah,’ I say. ‘And that was the time George got his head stuck in the bike railings by the café.’ I laugh at the memory of George screaming for help.
‘Only ’cause you dared him to do it!’ West says.
‘I did not!’
‘You so did.’ West smiles.
We go quiet again. I take a sip and look into the fire to think about something else to say. The entrancing rippling of the flames, the warmth of the white embers and the liquid courage offered by a few glugs of alcohol give me the confidence to speak.
‘I miss the old you.’
He looks over to receive my words like daggers. As his chest deflates, he looks into the fire.
‘Whatever,’ he whispers in his West voice.
I look back into the fire and the flames have spread to my gut. Losing Gabriel is West’s fault. He’s the reason we’re not friends anymore. His actions are why I’ve got so much extra crap from the lads. He’s literally the head of the snake that’s tormented me for years. And here I am, bringing him a beer.
‘Why do you hate me so much?’ I ask.
Out of the corner of my eye, he turns his head towards me.
‘Who said I hate you?’ he retaliates.
‘Yeah. Right.’
His beer sloshes as he takes a long swig.
‘Think what you want.’
‘Think what I want?’ I shake my head into my neck.
‘Yeah.’ He looks back to the fire.
A few aggravated heartbeats distract my mind from lashing out. Until they don’t.
‘You’ve made my life a living hell for the past four years, and I’m supposed to assume that’s a sign of friendship? I don’t think so.’
‘How have I made your life a living hell?’
I laugh. ‘Oh, I don’t know, how about chasing me out of the gates after school every day, you telling the other guys to cover up every time I walked into the changing rooms, constantly going out of your way to intimidate me when I was by myself in tutor, shoving me into walls in the corridor—’
‘Cam—’
‘Starting that rumour about me and Mr Walsh, which, might I add, almost cost him his job! Telling Noel I fancied him in Year 10, which was total bullshit, but led to him threatening me with a bloody pottery knife—’
‘Cam,’ he tries again.
‘Googling “gay porn” on my user ID in ICT, tripping me up in the canteen, calling me the f-word on the Swansea trip. Thank God Geri was there to hear it too; otherwise, who’d have even believed me?! Who’d have spoken up? But you knew that, didn’t you? You always knew that I’d be your personal punching bag to just do with as you fucking pleased—’
‘Cam!’ he shouts.
‘What?!’ I shout louder.
‘Your nose.’
I dab my nostril with the knuckle of my finger and pull it back to see blood running down it.
‘Brilliant.’
West shoves his hand into his jacket pocket and pulls out a tissue. He stands up and leans over to hand it to me. I look up at him before I look down and snatch it from him.
‘This is your fault you know,’ I say, shoving the tissue up my nose.
‘How is this my fault?’ He sits back down.
‘You make me so angry! How can any person treat another person the way you’ve treated me? We were friends for so long. And then this! I don’t know what I could’ve done to ever deserve to be on the receiving end of everything you’ve done to me. Especially after we—’ His pointed eyes stop me. ‘Anyway.’
‘I don’t know what you want me to say,’ he says into his collar.
‘Of course not.’ I close my eyes, grit my teeth, then open them to the crackling embers. ‘You’re a prick Gabe,’ I say, standing up and walking back to the patio door. I throw it open and half attempt to close it behind me. Striding up to the sofa, I tap Dad on the shoulder.
‘Can I have the key please?’
‘Everything alright?’ he asks, looking up at my bloody tissue.
‘Yeah, fine,’ I say, taking the key from his hand. ‘Thanks for dinner,’ I say to West’s parents before stomping my shoes on and hurrying out the door.
‘Oh, you’re welcome,’ Nicola replies faintly as I close the door behind me.
I forgot we didn’t ride our bikes here.
‘Shit,’ I say to the empty bike rack.
I’m out of there. That’s what’s most important. I look around, trying to place myself in the night. There’s a sign at the end of the road. The bottoms of my feet are beginning to hurt from the force with which I march myself toward it. White LED street lamps light the road and the brisk woodland air offers some comfort to my rage.
‘Cam, wait!’ West calls behind me.
I stop, clenching my fist and debating whether I should smack him across the jaw.
‘What?’ I say, avoiding turning around.
‘Would it help if I said I’m sorry?’ he says in his Gabriel voice.
I exhale into the street. I repeat his words in my mind and turn to face him.
‘You’re not though, are you?’ I dab my nose one last time and put the bloody tissue in my pocket. ‘The second we get back to school, it’ll start again. You are the reason we’re not friends anymore. You are the reason I hate myself. You are the reason I can’t walk into the changing rooms without getting fucking PTSD! And now, you “might” be offering an apology. Well, if that’s the case, too little, too late West.’ I turn to storm off.
West catches up and grabs my shoulder to stop me and spin me around. I throw his hand off me.
‘Don’t touch me!’
‘Just… just listen.’
‘What?!’
‘I—’ He stutters and rubs his forehead. ‘I just—’ His eyes well.
I’ve seen him cry when we were kids, but this is something different. He actually looks in pain. Still, I’m growing impatient and a fire is still burning in my chest cavity.
‘What is it?!’ I insist.
Without warning, he lurches forward and grabs my head in his hands. He quickly closes his eyes, purses his lips and pulls me in towards him. My hands pop up like an airbag, pushing him back. I have to dip my head down to escape his grasp.
‘Wh—What the hell? What was that?!’
His face sinks and his skin goes pale.
‘I didn’t—’
‘What is wrong with you?’ I quiver.
‘I’m sorry,’ he stutters back.
He claps a hand to his head and backs away in long strides. He studies my face and pants, then jogs back to the lodge. I’m frozen in place, unable to unlock myself from the tarmac that’s turned into quicksand. I blink myself back into reality.
Did that just happen?