God, stop that, Peanut...It’s never been harder to smile.“Of course.”
She doesn’t smile back.“Can you play for me, Col?”
My stomach knots.Cleo always used to play me her favorite songs, so that I could listen to them once and play them back to her on the piano.It was like a ritual between us, one that now seems like a lifetime ago.
“I haven’t found a piano here yet, Peanut.”Apart from the grand in the hall where the morning assembly took place on Monday.I’m pretty sure you’re not allowed to play that without permission.
“Ask someone.”
Sometimes I’m amazed how simple the world is in the eyes of a thirteen-year-old.And I usually see then that my kid sister is right and I’m making things way more complicated than I need to.I really could just ask.I’m absolutely sure there’s more than one piano at a fancy school like this.It’s just that I hate asking anyone here for anything.
“I’ll find out,” I promise.“And you can save up your song requests.”
Cleo’s face brightens a little.“Deal.”
“So what are Mom and Dad up to?”I ask, because a small, pathetic part of me wants to hear that they miss me.Not that they do.I know that even before Cleo shrugs.
“They’re busy.”
Same as ever.And maybe the thing I hate most about this whole deal is that my kid sister is now sitting at home alone, apart from our nanny, and my parents don’t see any need to spend time with her and show her that she matters to them.
“It’s so boring without you, Col,” she adds, sounding so sad that it breaks my heart.
“It’s boring here too,” I say.
“When are you coming back?”
I swallow hard.“Soon,” I promise, despising myself for it.I was truly certain of that when I told Cleo so just before my flight, but I’m not anymore.And I don’t want to be the guy who makes her promises he can’t keep and lets her down.So I’ve got to find a solution.It’s that damn simple.
Cleo whirls around as her door opens.
“How are you getting on?”I hear Kirsten say.“Don’t forget you have gymnastics in half an hour.”
“Almost done,” says Cleo.
“What are you doing?”Kirsten comes over.“Oh, Colin.It’s you.How are you doing?”
“Amazing,” I lie.
“Do you like boarding school?”
I almost laugh at that.“Yeah, it’s great.”
“That’s nice.Cleo, get changed now, or we’ll be late.”
“I will,” she says, turning back to me.“Got to go, Col.”
“No problem,” I say.“See you soon.”
“Yeah, soon, OK?”
“Miss you, Peanut,” I say, but the video’s already disconnected.It feels so wrong sitting here, imagining my little sister running around our apartment packing her sports bag.I ought to be the one taking her to training, like I always did.I ought to be there, even though I know I don’t deserve to be.If Cleo knew what I did, she’d be shocked.The thought of her hearing rumors at school about me and the fire makes me sick.Mom will have assured her that I had nothing to do with it.And Cleo will have believed it because she always believes Mom.And because she sees me as the kind of role model I’m not.
Maybe this is all part of the punishment I deserve because, to be honest, I don’t deserve to be with her.Maybe it has to be this way.Because Cleo Fantino needs better company than her no-good brother, who has a person’s death on his conscience.
Olive
I never realized how much I missed the midnight parties with my pals.This Saturday evening, the old greenhouse is fuller than normal, because it now has to serve as the party location for two year groups, not one.
