13 Hide
‘Cameron! Come on! It’s twenty-past-eight!’ Dad calls from downstairs, re-waking me for the third time this morning.
West’s voice instantly conjures in my mind again, just as it did for hours on end last night. For a moment, I’d forgotten. It wasn’t my reality. As it turns out though, it is. I dig my head into the pillow and ask my body to get up. It doesn’t obey. If anything, it relaxes further into the mattress. It doesn’t take long to hear Dad’s feet thumping up the stairs. He gives a quick knock before throwing my door open. I lift my eyelids slightly, just enough to catch the sun projecting from the landing window.
‘Are you sick?’ Dad asks as he realises I’m still in bed.
‘Yeah,’ I say in a croak.
He approaches the side of the bed I’m facing. I close my eyes and the back of his hand pushes against my forehead.
‘I suppose you do seem a bit warm…Is everything alright?’
‘Yeah,’ I rust again.
He doesn’t say anything for a solid thirty seconds. I quietly hope he just leaves me alone without another word. The mattress bends underneath me as he sits down.
‘Whatever’s going on, you know you can talk to me, right?’
‘I guess.’
‘Well, I mean it. If it’s something to do with Gabriel, you just say the word and I’ll—’
‘No!’ I snap.
Silence hangs. He gently pats my arm through the duvet.
‘Okay then. Feel better bud.’
He stands, walks out and leaves the door behind him ajar.
‘Go cheer him up,’ he whispers on the way downstairs.
Jimmy sighs through his nose, almost like he’s replying. My bedroom door creaks as it’s pushed open. The sunlight makes me open my eyes again. I look down to see Jimmy’s wet nose and beady eyes staring up at me from a seated position on the carpet.
‘Come on then,’ I say.
Jimmy walks a few steps toward the end of the bed, bounces on his back legs a couple of times and springs off the floor to the bed. He pads over the covers, making a path up to my face. He nuzzles into my chin and licks it.
‘Alright, alright,’ I say, pushing him off me.
I reach over to my bedside table and claw my phone into my hand.
Tue, May 14 - 14:02 PM
Finn: Hey, sorry!!! I had my phone on silent and got into a heated conversation with Barkley about her wanting to put my work up in the gallery for some reason. You ok? Where did you go? X
Tue, May 14 - 14:10 PM
Geri: We’ve got chemistry! Where are you?? Xx
Tue, May 14 - 14:15 PM
Geri: Finn’s here. Where are you?? xx
Tue, May 14 - 14:17 PM
Geri: Finn says he didn’t see you at lunch? Is everything ok?? xx
I formulate possible replies in my head, but realise each one of them involves spinning a new web of lies. I want to be honest with Geri, but I know she’d go full ‘mamma bear attack mode.’ West would most likely end up buried six feet under in the woods somewhere and Noel would be without testicles forevermore. As tempting as their undoing would seem, I’m sure Finn would still end up being outed. I can’t tell him. He’s definitely not ready to come out, especially after seeing his face drop at that birthday card. If I tell him, he’ll force himself. I couldn’t watch him struggle through that.
Oh, Christ. What do I do? I can’t break up with Finn. I wouldn’t be able to, even if I tried. But do I have to? Is there even a choice here? My eyes well up as they run from side to side in my spiralling thoughts. Golf balls start appearing in my throat again; however, this time, I let them come and overtake me. I tug the covers over my head, and regardless of Jimmy’s presence, I shut down.
***
Sitting in the flimsy plastic fold-out chair, I stare at the overturned paper on the desk in front of me. The gravity of the next ninety minutes starts to make me feel heavier. Mr Walsh looks at the wall clock and compares it to the time on his watch.
‘Alright folks. You have ninety minutes. Please turn over your paper and begin. Good luck,’ he announces to the hall of gridded students, each sat exactly one and a half metres apart at foldable exam tables.
The first few pages offer some reassurance that I might actually make it through this. I write definitions of various terms, analyse data and blag my way through the first essay question. The dryness of my throat then distracts me and I look up from my paper to take a swig of water. I accidentally glance over the hall and see what looks like the back of Finn’s head. It’s instantly recognisable. My heart quickly drops through my torso. Ignoring his messages, making excuses, avoiding seeing him in school—it’s been heartbreaking. Every time I’ve seen West or Noel walking my way, I’ve had to pray Finn doesn’t come up to join me and make it look like we’re still ‘together.’ I typed out a message to break things off a couple of nights ago, but couldn’t bring myself to send it.
I try to stop myself and look down at the paper. I pinch the back of my hand to distract my mind and stare at the next essay question.
‘The last question is the most important,’ I replay Mr Walsh’s exam monologue from earlier today. I start reading the question, but it’s like the words all morph on the page. ‘What are you going to do?’ I read and instantly freeze.
Every muscle in my body locks in its position. I feel the blood rush up from my feet and away from my fingertips as my hands turn cold. I try to take a breath to calm myself down but fail to expand my lungs in my body’s protest. I try again, and again, and again. I can’t get a breath, I can’t breathe. I feel my stuttering chest rocking me back and forth in the chair. I try over and over to rescue myself from the hold my body has over me. No such luck.
‘Sir?!’ I hear from my side.
A chair scrapes across the hall floor. I try to stop. I try my darnedest, but I’m aware each attempt just makes it worse.
‘Cameron?’ Mr Walsh’s voice interrupts. ‘Cameron?’ he tries again.
He crouches down and into my view. I spin my head towards him and try to open my mouth to apologise for causing a scene. However, my eyes speak for me. They ask him for help.
Before I know it, I’m on the carpet in reception, with my head between my knees and propped up against the nurse who’s allowing me to lean against her. Whether she’s an actual nurse or not is unknown. Her stern Eastern European accent has always put the fear of God into any Year 7 who’s tried to pull a sicky in their first year. I’m guessing my current position against her is an attempt to calm me down, and it seems to be working.
‘In, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four. In, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four,’ she repeats.
‘I’ll take care of it,’ Mr Walsh says from the other side of the gym doors.
The door swings open and I now have autonomy over my head again. Seeing him offers some comfort. My breathing begins to slow. I focus on the nurse’s counting until he’s close enough to hear me.
‘Sir, I didn’t finish. I need to go back in,’ I say through deep breaths.
I lean forward and place my hands down on the carpet to try to stand up before the nurse’s hand appears on my shoulder.
‘Woah, woah, woah! Stay down Cameron,’ Mr Walsh says.
‘But, sir—’
‘But nothing. Stay there,’ he says firmly with pointed eyebrows.
I stop my movements and recoil at his tone. I’ve never heard him speak like that. Even to the dicks in our year, he’s always so calm. He strides over to the reception desk and leans through the dividing window to say something to the receptionist. The woman in her sixties with curled, light blonde and borderline white hair listens intently to Mr Walsh’s instructions. She nods and starts typing into the computer. Mr Walsh turns the screen towards himself and reads it.
‘Okay, thanks Lou,’he says, taking off from reception and practically running through the doors into the main corridor.
His attitude makes it harder to breathe again, not to mention I’m currently leaning against some poor woman who’s gotta put up with my theatrics.
‘I think I can sit up now,’ I say to her, trying to hide my irregular breathing.
‘Nice try,’ she says.
After a few minutes, Mr Walsh throws one of the double doors open, holding it for someone behind him.
‘He’s through here,’ he says.
Through the door emerges Robyn, looking from side to side, then noticing me on the floor with the nurse. Her eyes widen.
‘What happened?!’ she shouts, coming across the room and kneeling next to me.
The Robyn I see in front of me isn’t the Robyn who ignored Geri and I the other day; she’s the Robyn I know. The one I love. The one I’ve missed.
‘He had a panic attack,’ the nurse says.
‘God Cam. You didn’t have to be that bloody dramatic,’ she jokes.
I laugh at her and find my breathing becomes more regular as I come out of a chuckle.
‘Do you want to try sitting up?’ the nurse asks.
I nod and slowly push myself up off the floor. Standing, it’s almost like nothing happened.
‘How are you feeling?’ she follows up.
‘A little light-headed,’ I reply.
Robyn watches intently as she reads everything the nurse says and proactively reaches behind her to pull over one of the reception chairs.
‘Here. You sit down there; I’ll go get you some water.’ The nurse uses her hand to guide my back into the foam-padded chair.
Now free from body contact therapy with the nurse, I relax a little more. Robyn slides up an armchair next to mine and plonks herself down with a small bounce.
‘What are we gonna do with you, eh?’ she says.
I look at her and smile. I then divert to the ground and let my face sink.
‘I’m sorry,’ I say.
‘Hey. Stop that,’ she instructs. ‘Water under the bridge. Just focus on calming down.’
‘Really?’ I ask, looking back up at her.
‘Really. I was just punishing you guys.’
‘Well, it worked…We’ve missed you.’
‘I’ve missed you too. I swear, if I hear Helen tell me about her Spanish boyfriend one more time, I might just throttle her.’
‘She has a Spanish boyfriend?’
Robyn’s eyes become knives.
‘Sorry.’ I hold up my hands in a plea for forgiveness.
‘You alright to look after this one?’ Mr Walsh appears over my shoulder, speaking to Robyn.
‘Of course.’ She nods and smiles in reply.
‘Don’t worry about the exam. I’ll take care of it. Your mum’s on the way, so just sit tight. I’ll see you tomorrow if you’re feeling better, okay?’ The calm and cool Mr Walsh has returned.
‘Thanks sir,’ I concede.
Mr Walsh smiles and heads back into the gym to continue running the exam.
‘So, what happened?’ Robyn asks.
Her question makes my stomach tense as all the realities flood my brain again.
‘I… uh…’
My eyes dart and I take in a deep breath.
‘You know what? Don’t tell me,’ Robyn says quickly, likely sensing my panic sizzling.
We use this pocket of time to catch up. Since none of the conversation mentions West or Finn, I enjoy this moment of sweet escape. Normalcy, even if for twenty minutes. Mum arrives to pick me up and runs into reception looking for me.
‘I’m right here,’ I say flatly to calm her down.
‘Oh thank God! Are you okay? How is your breathing? Do you need water? Have you had some water? Oh Christ, where can I get water?!’
‘Mum! I’m fine,’ I say.
‘Okay,’ she says, calming herself down. ‘Hi Robyn!’
‘Hi Trace.’
‘Do you want a lift?’ Mum asks.
‘It’s okay, thanks. I’ve gotta get back to class.’
‘Right you are,’ Mum says.
Robyn looks at me and pulls me into a hug. She squeezes me tightly.
‘Breathe.’ She points aggressively.
‘I will, I promise.’
***
I glance at the screen of unread notifications and pick out a message from Geri and Robyn to reply, ‘I’m fine,’ and hopefully buy myself some time. I dare not open the conversation with Finn. Even the preview line of ‘If it’s something I’ve done, please tell me…’ makes my stomach knot and my hands fidget. Geri’s tried calling twice this morning and both times I’ve just let it ring.
‘Cam! Geri’s here!’ George calls from downstairs.
Should’ve seen that coming.
I leap off the bed and scurry around the carpet, picking up various dropped laundry. As her footsteps up the stairs draw closer, I debate what I have time to do. I wave my duvet flat and scoop some glasses into a corner on the bedside table.
‘Bloody hell Cam,’ Geri says from the doorway.
‘What?’
‘You’ve only been off school for two and a bit days. It’s like you’ve been imprisoned.’ She navigates the carpet, slides my books to one side of the sofa and sits down.
‘It’s not that bad,’I say, pushing underwear into the chest of drawers.
‘Cam, there’s a yogurt pot that looks like it’s growing a colony down here.’
I pick it up and actively wince. I toss it in the already full bin and settle myself on the bed to face her.
‘What’s up?’ I ask.
‘I won’t stay long. I’ve got work this afternoon. But just wanted to check on you. Robyn texted me about what happened on Thursday.’
‘She did?’
‘She did,’ she affirms. ‘Do you wanna talk about it?’
‘Um…not really. Just stressed, I guess.’
She hums and nods at my closed body language.
‘Finn messaged me last night.’
‘Saying what?’
‘Saying you’ve been ignoring him all week. He said you didn’t even tell him about the panic attack?’ Her tone is accusatory.
‘I didn’t want him to worry.’
‘The whole school heard about it, so rest assured, he’s worried regardless.’
‘Oh.’
‘Yes, oh,’ she says.
We sit in silence as she checks her phone. I could tell her.
‘Geri.’
‘Mhmm,’ she hums, still looking at her phone.
‘Never mind.’
‘No, go on, what is it?’ She locks her phone and sets it down on the sofa next to her.
I quickly formulate a plan. Tell her a piece of the truth. She wouldn’t tell anyone if I swore her to secrecy, and as long as I don’t give her enough to hunt West and Noel down over the weekend, I could buy myself some more time to find a way out of this.
‘You know how I said West and I, like, did stuff when we were younger?’
‘You and Gabriel, yes.’ She grins cheekily.
I roll my eyes. ‘You can’t tell anyone this.’
‘I swear.’ She raises three fingers in a brownie promise.
‘I’m thinking, maybe he’s, you know—’
‘A raging homosexual?’
‘Um… yeah, maybe.’
‘I could see that.’ She nods, studying the hypothesis.
I lower my eyebrows at her agreement and build a portfolio of West’s mannerisms, phrases, friends, likes and dislikes, trying my best to gather evidence to support the claim.
‘Plus, can you ever tell?’ Geri asks.
‘I mean, you could tell with me?’ I reply.
‘Yes, but you’re you.’
‘I’m not that camp am I?’
‘It’s not about being camp; you were just—’ She hesitates. ‘You were always nice.’
‘Nice?’
‘Yeah, like, you didn’t conform to what the other boys in class were doing and never really wavered on caring about that. You’d always stick up for the girls. And we all got along with you better than the other boys. It’s not like I knew. It’s just…I never really saw you being with a girl, and that just made sense.’
‘Right.’
Evidently, Geri has known me better than I’ve known myself for far longer than I’ve realised. We’ve spoken about me coming out and stuff before, but this is the first time she’s said this.
‘But West isn’t nice,’I build a case against my own theory.
‘Well, that’s true. But there’s no one way of being any particular way. You know what I mean?’
‘Not exactly, no.’
‘Sexuality, I think, is more complicated than what they talk about in PSHE. Like, imagine the PH scale. If you say 100% straight is an acid at number one, and 100% gay is an alkaline at fourteen, any person could fall on any number on that scale.’
‘So, someone who was bisexual would be a seven?’ I ask.
‘Well, yes. But someone might be a two or an eleven and still refer to themselves as bisexual.’
‘Okay, I think I know what you mean. Did you come up with this?’
‘I didn’t come up with it. It just sounds like it makes sense. So, West, for example, though his “prick lad” scale might be one way inclined, his sexuality might be the complete opposite.’
‘So, the two are in conflict with one another?’
‘Boom!’ Geri mimes a mic drop. Her phone vibrates on the sofa cushion. ‘Anyway, what made you think he could be non-straight? Apart from you two previously getting jiggy-with-it of course.’
Damn, I thought I’d managed to tap dance my way out of actually telling her a piece of the truth. She picks up her phone and starts tapping a reply to a message.
‘In Center Parcs, he…uh…’ My palms begin to sweat, I rub them together to comfort myself.
Her eyes look up from the screen in my pause.
‘He tried to kiss me.’
‘He did what?!’ she shouts, slamming her phone onto the sofa.
‘Keep your voice down!’ I wave my hands in panic.
‘How? When?’
I walk her step by step through every missing detail of the Center Parcs trip. Everything from the handsome High Ropes instructor through to swerving his attempt in the street. She hangs her mouth open, clinging to every word and only asking the occasional follow-up question about the events. Once I’ve rounded off the story, she checks her wristwatch.
‘Shit, I’ve gotta go.’ She stands, and I follow her down the stairs. ‘You know, you could’ve told me.’
‘I know. But you know what I’m like.’
‘Yes, you’re a pain in the arse who keeps too much bottled up inside.’
She’s right. Even having told a piece of the truth though, I feel like a bit of pressure has been released. I unlatch the door and open it for her.
‘And listen’—she stops in the doorway and leans in—‘you should tell Finn what happened.’
‘I don’t know,’ I whisper.
‘He should know. And if that’s why you’re avoiding him, I think it’ll be easier if you just tell him the truth. No matter what happens,’ she says.
‘I just don’t want to mess it up.’
‘You won’t,’ she replies and hooks my neck into a hug.
She walks out the door and into the blossoming front garden path. Wood pigeons coo in the warm morning air, as the sunlight gently heats my face through the open doorway.
I take in a deep breath and let some of my knots unwind.
‘Geri,’ I say to stop her, ‘thanks for checking on me.’
‘Anytime.’ She smiles and walks up the garden path.
I close the door and stare at the sunlit glass. I consider how I’d feel if I told her the whole truth. However, the possible consequences prickle the back of my neck and call me back to my bedroom.
Walking back upstairs, the reassurance and returning confidence from Geri’s visit disappear with each step. By the time I sit back down on my bed, it’s like Geri was never here. Then again, it feels like there’s something missing. It’s small, but noticeable. One less thing on my mind.
***
The rain has forced me inside. I’ve been debating when to go for lunch, but I find myself here. I scan each room in the art department as I walk towards photography. Walking down the connecting corridor, I realise I’m torturing myself, but I can’t help it. I peer through the doorway, craning my head into the classroom. It’s empty. I look at the darkroom and see the red light is off. He’s not here.
I sigh into the empty classroom and grab the door handle. I might be able to lock my wavering heart inside if I try hard enough.
‘Cam?’ Finn says.
I turn around, startled. He’s walking up to me carrying a stack of workbooks and developed photos.
‘Hi.’ I fake a smile as my hand fidgets behind me.
‘Listen, can we talk?’ he asks.
This is it. I’ve been planning this conversation for days. He asks if we can talk, he tells me I’ve been distant, he can’t deal with it anymore, he breaks up with me, he’s able to stay in the closet, and I’ll just deal with whatever I have to. If it means this torment ends, I guess it’ll be kinder to the both of us.
‘Okay.’ I nod.
‘Let’s go in here.’ He walks past me and I catch his woody scent in the breeze. I slowly smell the air, acknowledging this may be the last time I can. He’s wearing a chequered open-collar shirt and blue jeans that hug his bum tightly.
He drops his work on a desk and pushes his hair back to gather himself. I stand not far from the doorway, hoping he does this quickly so I can make a clean exit.
Finn notices my stillness and comes towards me, perching himself on the table.
‘Okay.’ He pauses. ‘I’ve thought about this a lot. And I want you to tell me the truth.’
He scans my face for an indication of a response. I wait as long as I reasonably can before I nod in concession.
‘What happened last Tuesday?’
‘Last Tuesday? I don’t know.’ I genuinely don’t.
He takes out his phone and scans through his messages.
‘Tuesday fourteenth.’
He faces his phone screen towards me. I narrow my eyes slightly to focus on the texts shaking in his palm. It’s the texts from the day…oh. That day.
‘Sorry, I don’t know.’ I look anywhere other than at him.
‘Fine.’ He puts his phone away. ‘Then it’s me.’
‘What?’ I ask.
‘It’s me. I’ve done this to you. I’ve literally driven you into the ground with all the sneaking around, the secrets, the lying, you falling out with the girls, your panic attack, it—it’s all my fault,’ he whimpers as teardrops form at the corners of his eyes.
‘You haven’t done anything.’ I try holding back a golf ball.
‘I have, and I know I’ve put you in an impossible position. So, please just do it.’A tear runs down his cheek.
‘Do what?’
‘Break up with me.’ His bottom lip trembles.
‘What?’
‘Break up with me. Please.’
I divert my attention from his words to focus on my lungs expanding and contracting. I count beats in my head to stave off falling short of air before I then process what to say.
‘I don’t want to break up with you.’
‘You don’t?’
‘No. I love you. I love you so freaking much, and I—’ My throat buckles and the ball pops. ‘I don’t know what to do.’
At my buckling, he jumps up from his perch and wraps me in his arms. I let everything out and into the crook of his neck. I try to stop myself, but the floodgates are well and truly open now.
‘Hey, hey.’ He rubs my back up and down and pulls me back to look into my pouring eyes. ‘Cam. Please, just tell me what’s going on?’
‘I can’t.’ I drop my head as he holds my shoulders.
‘Please, I’m begging you. Just tell me.’
I flick between each of his glistening blues as they bargain with my soul.
‘It’s West. He knows.’
Finn looks around the room, nodding as he processes each word. His hands drop from my shoulders and he begins to bite the nail of his thumb. He thuds himself into the table.
‘What did he do to you?’
‘Huh?’ I startle.
‘What did he do to you? Tell me.’
‘Nothing.’
‘Cameron!’
I fall silent, debating my next move.
‘He didn’t do anything. But he tried.’
‘Tried to what?’ Finn freezes.
‘He tried to kiss me.’
Finn’s fist tightens beside him.
‘Kiss you?’
Shame weighs my chin down and only spares me enough strength to nod in confirmation. Tears bubble again and guilt becomes me. I wait patiently to be scolded or even broken up with. Nothing comes though. It’s only when I hear footsteps along the tile floor that I look up. He’s gone!
I hurtle myself to the doorway to see him striding off with his clenched fist. His tensed shoulders make it all too clear where he’s heading.
‘Finn!’ I shout.
He doesn’t stop, and he disappears around the corner.
‘Oh shit,’ I say to myself, taking off down the corridor behind him.
I run as fast as my mediocre running ability allows. Thankfully, his stride is firm, but not all that fast. I catch up with him as he passes tech and approaches the canteen.
‘Finn, stop,’ I say, grabbing his arm.
‘No Cam, I’m taking care of this.’ He shakes me off, picking up his stride again.
‘You can’t!’
‘Why not?’
‘Because he’s going to tell everyone you’re gay!’ I shout.
Finn stops, faces me and the blood drains from his flushed cheeks. My voice echoes off the walls, retrospectively informing me how loud I just said that. My heartbeat taps in my ear, the only thing breaking the silence. Finn breathes heavily. He’s looking past me. I turn, and my heart stops.
Through partition windows that divide the tech classroom from the hallway, West, Noel and all the other lads are sitting on the tables looking through to us. They’ve frozen in passing a football back and forth between themselves. Noel looks through to see my horror and stands up from a table. He looks at Finn.
‘Finn… I—’I stop myself as his eyes connect with mine.
In one look, I know I’ve broken the man I love in two. He glances back to the lads, shakes his head at me and takes off down the hall. I don’t know whether to run after him, realising I’ve done irrefutable damage in mere seconds. Maybe they didn’t hear? I look back through the windows and scan each of their faces to read them. They definitely heard. I debate which way to run myself. Noel walks through the classroom and out into the hall.
‘Cam?’ he says through the silence.
‘No,’ I reply, shaking my head. ‘No. This is your fault!’ I spit through a tensed forehead and pointed finger. ‘You and that twat in there.’
In that motion, I catch West’s face creep up with a grin through the window.
My fist clenches at his smarmy look, but the look on Finn’s face cuts me deeper. I’ve gotta get out of here.
‘Cam!’ Noel calls after me.