The Fragile Ordinary
Page 61There were a few other classmates, but the only teacher in attendance was Vicki’s dad. When I asked him why he was the only teacher to represent the school, he didn’t answer me.
The cynic in me wondered if it was so the school could distance itself from the circumstances of Stevie’s death. His drug overdose hadn’t happened on school grounds, and as long as they kept their distance from it they could say that it was a singular case and that drugs were not a problem at Blair Lochrie. Maybe? Was his death even going to matter to them, or had it been swept under the rug to protect the school’s reputation and its ranking? Was that what mattered now? Statistics and rank protected at all costs over the welfare of the kids that walked through their bloody door?
Maybe not. Maybe Stevie just hadn’t made an impact on any of the other teachers.
But I was angry.
And not really at them. Because I should have said something. If I’d spoken up about Stevie, they might have been able to help him.
So I was angry with myself.
I was angry for the people who had been destroyed by stupid mistakes.
My gaze drifted over Carole and Kieran. Standing next to them was an older version of Stevie and very close at his side was, what I had discerned almost immediately, a plainclothes police officer. The man had to be Stevie’s father and, although he didn’t cry, there was a deep pain etched into his features that made my chest shudder as I tried to breathe out.
It was unbearable even looking at Carole and Kieran. She was frail and sallow-skinned, a black scarf wrapped around her head, and she was clinging to Tobias’s mum for dear life as she cried a continual flow of silent tears. Kieran clung to her hip, his face red and crumpled as he sobbed against her, watching his brother’s coffin as it was lowered into the ground.
The thought that Stevie was in there, gone forever, was hard to process, and as I stared across the grave site at my boyfriend, I wondered if that was how Tobias was feeling. Because I couldn’t know for sure. He wouldn’t talk to me.
It was mid-February and we were on a midterm break from school for the week. Tobias had ignored my calls and texts, so I’d tried going around to his house and his mum had said he was out with the boys. I’d asked Lena how he was doing, and she’d said he wasn’t good.
Still...he wouldn’t talk to me.
His rejection made me want to retreat into my bedroom and hide with my books like I had done before he blew into my life on a tornado of change. Staring at his stone-like expression as he, Stevie’s dad, Jimmy and Forrester helped lower the coffin into the ground, I felt a fear building in my chest. Panic.
I should have told someone about Stevie. Someone who could have done something. An adult. Teachers, his mother, police, someone! But I’d been afraid of getting Stevie in trouble...and wasn’t that just the most horrific, ironic piece of crap you’d ever heard?
He regretted choosing me.
The thought turned me to ice, but I couldn’t stop repeating it in my head, over and over. Why else was Tobias avoiding me? He wasn’t avoiding anyone else. He’d chosen me over Stevie, leaving Stevie to that world, and it had killed him.
Tobias regretted choosing me.
Could I blame him?
I thought if we could just talk about it, we’d get through it, but it was getting him to stand still long enough with me to discuss it that was the issue. Months ago I wouldn’t have been brave enough to force a confrontation. I would have turned tail and locked myself in my room and found a book that made me feel better—I’d choose fantasy over reality any day. Yet, Tobias had come along and changed that for me and, as much as my instinct was to hide, I couldn’t if it meant losing him.
Hadn’t we lost too much already?
God, he’d lost so much already. The image of Tobias laying his father to rest less than a year ago made me cry harder for him. Then that image was replaced with the memory of Stevie smiling at me in gratitude when I gave him his scarf, hat and gloves. That dissolved into the memory of him hugging me tight in the corridor the day Tobias hurt my feelings. And the memory of him looking at me with such pain in his eyes and telling me he was sorry.
We should have gone after him.
Now it was too late.
I’d never get the chance to make it right. Neither would he. Or Tobias.
Gone.
He was gone.
Those three words just didn’t make sense. It didn’t seem possible that I would never see him walk through the school halls, or wink at a pretty girl, or laugh by the pool table. He’d never get the chance to find his way out of the mess his life had become. He’d never be able to protect Kieran, who would have no one when his mum died.
“Shh,” she whispered, sniffling, and I realized she was crying for me.
But I wasn’t crying for me.
I was crying for all the days—just ordinary simple days with his family—that were lost to Stevie. Lost to them all. It sounds silly to say I was shocked by the revelation of loss, because I had read about characters dying in books, seen them die on film, heard about real people dying all the time on the news.
It was different when it was someone you had known, though. Talked to. Laughed with. Been angry at. Cursed. Hurt for. Someone who was flesh and blood and as real as myself. The reality of it was hard to wrap my mind around. My emotions warred between not feeling like it was real and feeling like it was a nightmare come to life.
Life was temporary.
That realization had never truly taken hold of me until that moment.
Life was temporary, and for most of my life I’d shied away from living it, preferring the company of fictional characters to real people.
Well, no more.
I gained control over the inner keening, breathing slowly in and out until Vicki’s hold on me loosened. Looking up from the hole in the ground to Tobias’s face, I felt myself tense with resolution. No more. Tobias and I would lose no more.
As if he heard my thoughts, his gaze jerked up from the grave to find me. His eyes seemed to burn into me, filled with so much turmoil I wanted to reach out to him.
And I would.
* * *
“Tobias!” I ran after him as he stalked away from the cemetery.
Kieran had clung to his dad, screaming, and breaking everyone’s heart and I’d watched as Tobias had just stared down at the scene, at Kieran, in horror, until Lena had returned to lift the squalling boy into her arms.
Tobias had turned in the opposite direction and started to hurry away.
This time I wasn’t letting him.
“Go back, Comet!” he yelled over his shoulder.
“No!” I stumbled up the hill after him. “Talk to me.”
“Look!” He spun around, glaring at me with tears in his eyes. He exhaled slowly and continued more calmly, “I just need some space right now. Okay? We’ll talk later. But not right now. God, Comet, just give me that.”
I bit my lip, unsure what was the best thing to do. If I pushed him harder, I’d maybe push him away for good. “Okay.”
Relief made his shoulders relax, and he gave me a brittle nod before he turned around and walked away.
* * *
Despite my numerous attempts to call him, Tobias didn’t answer. I received one text.
Tobias: I asked 4 space.
Although it hurt I decided to let it go and let him have his space over the midterm break. Once we’d returned, however, I was determined to get him to talk to me again. I couldn’t help feeling that if he hadn’t pushed me away, we’d both have had an easier time dealing with Stevie’s death.