“I want to see it,” he tells me with that confidence I so crave. “I want to see all of you.”
He walks off and like a love-sick puppy with too-big paws, I stumble as I chase after him.
TWENTY
BENJI
FIFTEEN YEARS AGO - JULY
I stand watching Miles’dad’s car until the rear red lights have turned the corner towards their house. He’ll hate that I called his dad to pick him up because he’s drunk, which was confirmed when his father was nothing but frowns, tuts and stern words as he bundled Miles into the car, but I don’t care. In fact, it felt good to make Miles deal with the consequences of his actions for once. I probably should have done it a long time ago.
I live walking distance from the school but I’m in no rush to go home for some reason. My body feels restless, itchy with some awareness I can’t name. My stomach is still sore and that’s another reason I should get home, but I feel as empty as I ever will, hollowed out, in fact. And that prickling feeling makes me feel like I have unfinished business to do here.
Then it hits me.
D—.
I have to say goodbye toD?—.
The day after tomorrow, Maman and I leave for France for the summer. We’re returning only a handful of days before I’m due to leave for university. I love my long summers in Toulouse. Sunny days by the pool with my cousins. Day trips to the beach and nights out in the city centre. Maman and her sister, Tante Fabienne, cooking the most delicious food and Oncle Marc manning the barbeque every other day, at least. But this summer, I feel like I’m leaving something behind. This summer I think I’ll spend an inordinate amount of time thinking about D?—.
I shouldn’t want to see her again. I shouldn’t want to have some grand goodbye. Earlier tonight she saw me at my very worst. She saw me in a state I’ve managed to keep hidden from even my own mother.
But I do want to see her one last time. And if I can’t say all the things I want to say to her, I want to at least say goodbye.
So I walk back inside the gymnasium and start looking for her. The lights are on everywhere, shining bright in my eyes that became accustomed to the dark outside. A couple of teachers and parent-volunteers are sweeping up rubbish and stacking chairs. Groups of students linger, some helping but most chatting. A few stragglers are still dancing even though there’s no music and the DJ is unplugging and rolling up wires and cables. I move around all the people I can see, looking for D— but somehow, I already know she’s not here. It’s like I can sense when she’s close and I know when she’s not.
“Where’s Miles?” A voice has me turning around. Raquelle stands in front of me looking a little bedraggled and a lot upset.
“He’s gone home,” I say. “He was wasted. Which is probably best for you too.”
She sniffs and looks away but stays standing in front of me. “Did he even talk about me? To you?”
“Yeah, he did,” I say, which is the truth, even if I’m not prepared to elaborate. I meant what I said to Miles outside; Raquelle is a vulnerable young woman and while nobody deserves the way Miles treated her, I really do believe it had the potential to really mess with her, for whatever reason.
My answer perks her up slightly but then it turns into a carrot to chase.
“What did he say?”
“Hey, where’s D—.?” I change the subject. “You came together, right?”
Her face falls again. “Yeah, but she’s gone home.”
My stomach sinks. “Oh. Without you?”
“We had a fight.” She hugs herself, her slim arms wrapping around her body.
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”
“She had a go at me for crying over Miles and for not even trying to forget him. I told her that she didn’t understand because she’s never really liked anyone. That made her super angry, like I’ve never seen before. I just don’t know what’s gotten into her recently. She’s all…different.”
I don’t know what to say to that. As I reflect, I can see why Raquelle is saying that on account of D—’s shorter hair and the suit she wore today, but they’re not drastic changes. If anything, in my mind, they make her more her.
“People change,” I offer somewhat uselessly. “Do you need me to walk you home?”
“Nah, my mum’s coming.” She glances at the phone in her hand, which has lit up. “She’s outside, actually.”
“Hey, Raquelle,” I say and fall into step beside her as she walks towards the exit. “Can I ask you a favour?”
