Thirty-Nine
It’s the red feeling
I can’t explain
It’s the boiling blood
In my veins
‘That Red Feeling’ from Roses
Ty, wait,’ I say, running down the stairs after him.
‘Selena, I’m really glad you got what you wanted, but I can’t be here,’ he says, opening the front door.
‘It’s not what you think,’ I say, grabbing his arm.
‘And I look forward to your explanation another time. But right now, I’m tired. Have a good rest of your birthday.’
And with that, he pulls his arm away and leaves.
I’m half tempted to run after him, when Kira grabs my arm.
‘I think you need to let him go,’ she says.
‘What would you know?’ I snap. I need to get my shoes and get going. I can probably catch him before he makes it inside.
‘Woah, what’s with the tone? He clearly doesn’t want to talk to you right now.’
‘I don’t need any of your Kira advice right now.’ I walk to the window, I can see Ty getting in his front door. Great, Kira’s messed this up for me.
‘And what would my “Kira advice” be?’ she says, crossing her arms.
‘You know, your opinions on stuff. “Don’t chase after Ty. Don’t be the Secret Sender.” Even though you’ve been the one encouraging me to talk to Ty this whole time and you signed me up for the Secret Sender!’
‘Ugh, Selena, we’ve talked about this a hundred times already.
Just because I’m the reason you became the Secret Sender doesn’t mean I agree with what’s happened since that point.
As for your Ty–Ollie drama, I am team Ty.
Ollie’s always been a bit of a narcissist. But obviously none of this will ever get resolved, because you hate confrontation. ’
‘So what if I hate confrontation? Is it such a bad thing to want people to get along?’
Kira and I are now standing face-to-face by the front door. Her arms are crossed, her lips tight, it’s how she looks before she’s about to take someone down in a debate.
‘Selena, it’s fine to not like confrontation, but it’s morally questionable to be the anonymous judge, jury and executioner of everyone when you do hate it so much.’
‘Is this about the Secret Sender again?’ I roll my eyes. ‘Kira, I don’t want to talk about this any more.’
‘You never want to talk about it! You never want to think too deeply about whether what you’re doing is the right thing.’
‘It’s a small article,’ I say, rolling my eyes. I hold my fingers in quotation marks as a I say, ‘I am not “judge, jury and executioner”.’
‘Selena, the entire school cares deeply about what the Secret Sender says. People are changing what they do based on your opinions. Do you not think this kind of anonymous influence is bad?’
‘You know what I think? I think you’re jealous that for once I’m good at something. I’m on top of something. And you hate to see it.’
Pain flashes across Kira’s face. ‘That is totally not true. You know all I do is support you. It’s why I got you into this mess in the first place! I didn’t realise I would be creating a monster.’
‘Kira, you’re making this about you again. You created me? Those are my words everyone is reading!’
‘You’re not even standing behind your words! Because you know people would be mad at you if they knew it was you.’
‘Just because you have unrealistic expectations of how your life is going to turn out, and you want your name attached to everything because of it, doesn’t mean the rest of us should.’
Kira steps back. Now she looks furious.
‘That’s what you really think?’ she says. ‘My expectations are unrealistic? I’m jealous of you? I’m only doing this because I think it’s my way or nothing?’
And because this night is already filled with terrible outcomes – Ollie passed out on my bed upstairs, Ty storming out of my home – I say, ‘Yes.’
‘Right,’ she says, shaking her head. ‘I’m going. Have a good rest of your birthday, Selena. I didn’t realise turning eighteen would make you such a dick.’
And with that, she walks out, slamming the door behind her.
Faye comes running up to me. ‘Selena, we’ve got a problem.’
‘How can anything get any worse?’ I say.
‘Michael was sitting down in the living room, playing a game with everyone, and he started to feel sick, so was looking for something, and he came across this cupboard . . . ’ She takes a deep breath. ‘He’s thrown up in your Mum’s Greek vase.’
Fuck.