I was 98% sure I was dead and had been sent to hell. And I was 2% sure that if I wasn't, I was well on my way.
A groan tore from my throat, painful and croaky. My head felt as if a million tiny leprechauns had spent the night Irish dancing on my brain, and were now using hammers to perform a demolition on what remained. Sunlight streamed through the windows to bleach my collarbones white, and I felt the heat of it like a gentle burn. Blankets were wound around my legs, twisted through the night.
Opening my eyes didn't seem particularly conducive to a good time, so I left them squeezed shut as allowed a second groan of complaint to pass through my lips.
"Good morning, sunshine." Cora.
"Well, doesn't my girl look like a million bucks this morning?" My mother. With a decidedly limited scope of sympathy for my current situation, judging by the unbridled amusement in her tone.
"Kill me, please," I complained, pulling my pillow securely over my head to hide from the world, ideally forever.
A snort of laughter. "Seems like you attempted that yourself last night," said Mum. Lovingly. "Liver poisoning is not a cute way to go."
I flipped her the finger, without deigning her with a response.
"How are you feeling?" asked Cora. "Did you want me to bring you some Panadol?"
"I'd probably prefer crack cocaine," I said into my pillow. "Or, like. Death."
My own mother simply laughed at this statement. Cora made a faint sound of protest, but I heard my mother dismiss her concerns. Cora would make a far better nurse; she was sweeter, and would probably leave cute snacks under my pillow.
I felt Mum poke me experimentally in the shoulder. I swatted her hand away. "You know," she said. "You don't always have to try to keep up with Sydney."
I almost laughed. I would always try to keep up with Sydney. She was my best friend, and I couldn't just let her put herself in danger. She needed me. Besides, she would always make sure that I was—
My eyes flew open.
Mum and Cora were standing at the foot of my bed. Mum just seemed amused, a faint smile resting on a face that was so similar to mine; strawberry blonde hair, big doe eyes, a heart-shaped face and a placid expression that easily fell into a smile. Cora looked less pleased at my pain, but Cora was also a nicer person than either of the Williams women. She was wearing a sympathetic frown cut deep into the lines of her face, as if grooved there by a sculptor. Sydney had mocked that expression a hundred times, but I—
Sydney.
Oh. Shit.
"Oh shit," I said, pressing a hand to my forehead. It was warm and hot and solid, and I definitely wasn't in hell, but I might as well have been. I buried my face in the warm cotton of the t-shirt I was wearing. The material was thick and the shirt was so big it swallowed me, which made it an easier place to hide from the world and the truth. "Oh. Shit."
"What?" Mum asked, bewildered.
Cora was looking at me with a mix of heartbreaking sadness and nervous anticipation. As if she was waiting for me to fall apart, and was ready to catch the fractured pieces of me as I shattered.
Because Sydney had slept with Tommy. My best friend and my boyfriend. Ex.
"What is it?" Mum asked again.
I looked up at her, then across at Cora. "Am I wearing Kai Delaney's t-shirt?" was all I could say.
The lines in Cora's face smoothed as she laughed. "Well, you puked on yours."
I only remembered flashes of last night.
The feeling of dancing in Sydney's spotlight, and the warmth of Kai's gaze as he watched me. Taking care of me, as Cora had made him promise to. Laughing and screaming and yelling. Flashes of light and bursts of sound, the bass thrumming like a heartbeat through my veins. Downing shots fast enough to drown the feelings of unease, until the only unease I felt was from the liquid churning in my gut. Stumbling, giggling, the hedge in Jack Heath's front yard. My knees pressed into tanbark as a cool hand held the hair loosely at the nape of my neck.
I wrinkled my nose. "Classy."
Mum sighed. "I failed raising you. This is a fail grade for me."
Cora was back to looking concerned again. It was her natural state. "Valerie, are you—"
"Fine," I said, smiling brightly. I think I might be halfway to dead and my head hurts and my heart hurts and since when was the sun so bright? "One hundred percent fine."
"And you look it too," said Mum.
Cora smiled hesitantly at my mum. "She's not fine, she's... well—"
I snorted a laugh, and it was almost hysterical; a manic edge curling at the corners of my voice. "Fine. She is completely and utterly fine. So what that my boyfriend of two years cheated on me? And so what if he decided to do it with my best friend of forever? And so what if I had to witness it happening with my own two eyes, because the dumb shits didn't even have the courtesy to do it in their own homes?"
My mother's eyes were blown wide, and her mouth had fallen open to form a small oh. She looked from me to Cora, as if she was unsure how to progress in this situation. She turned back to me. "Um, Valerie? That, uh, doesn't exactly seem like a so what situation."
I shrugged. Dreariness was fading quickly, leaving me somewhat clearheaded and alert. I waited for a moment; waited for anger, rage, heartbreak, sadness, despair. Instead, what set in was a feeling of tranquil apathy. Because so what. Sydney and Tommy had made their bed, and I wasn't planning on falling on it in a heap.
They could grovel and they could beg, but I had already buried them both. I wasn't ever looking to dig up the bodies.
So, I drew up in my bed, looking at Mum and Cora with a bright smile. They eyed me back wearily. "They can enjoy each other for all I care. I want to enjoy a fat stack of pancakes. With a shit tonne of hot fudge sauce and ice cream. I am talking diabetes onset. Does anyone feel like breakfast?"
Cora was wincing. "Um... sure?" She looked at my mother for confirmation; Mum just shrugged desperately in response, as if to say, well, Val's gone nuts, let's just keep her comfortable. Cora turned back to me with a bright smile. "Sure! Yeah. Great. Fun. There's a café around the corner we could go to?"
I gave her an enthusiastic thumbs up. "Awesome. I'm just going to get changed, but I'll meet you outside in a second."
Mum's smile was still firmly fixed in place, but it was wearing at the edges, obviously false. "Sure, honey. We'll uh... we'll see you out there in a second."
Cora and Mum exchanged another holy shit, Valerie's gone off her rocker expression, but I was relieved when they didn't press further and departed the room swiftly, presumably to wait for me downstairs. But I didn't break down when Cora gently closed the door behind her. I didn't even want to. My headache had vanished with my anger, and I was feeling... I was feeling fantastic.
I looked at my reflection in my wardrobe mirror. And yeah, I looked a little worse for wear. My makeup was smudged around my eyes, and my hair was mussed and tangled. Kai's shirt, which had a rather cute graphic picture of some indie band, was big enough to make me look like a formless blob. But my eyes were bright and joyful. My lips were curved into a smile. Fuck you, Tommy Aster, I thought viciously. This is what you're missing.
Speak of the devil, and the devil shall appear.
I had summoned him with my thoughts.
When the first pebble ricocheted off my window, a laugh tore itself from my throat. Tommy had always favoured the romance of standing beneath my window, looking up at me with a mischievous smile and cheeky banter.
I sauntered over to the window and peeked through the curtains. This was no Romeo outside Juliet's balcony; romance and love and adoration, calling me an angel. This was Lloyd standing outside with a boombox, begging for Diane to take him back. This was desperation and despair and heartbreak. But Tommy Aster was no John Cusack.
I flung the window open.
Tommy looked up at me, squinting into the sun. "Valerie!" he called. "Valerie, I'm so sorry." He looked awful. Dark circles graced the space beneath blood-shot eyes, and his hair was tangled. "Come out and talk to me. Please."
There was a small ledge outside the window. I climbed through the open space to sit on it, my legs dangling into open air. I leant back against the window frame, that same small smirk touching my lips. "I'm listening."
Tommy was frowning. "Is that a new shirt?" His eyes returned to my face. "Whose shirt is that?"
I considered his question for a moment. Tommy loathed Kai. So, I grinned. "It's Kai Delaney's, actually."
The corners of Tommy's lips curved viciously. His shoulders tightened. "Why are you wearing that?"
I shrugged. "Why are you sleeping with my best friend?"
Tommy closed his eyes momentarily, a pained expression crossing his face. "You're right. It doesn't matter. I'm sure there's a good explanation, that nothing happened. What matters is that I'm sorry."
"Oh?" I said, quirking an eyebrow.
"I'll do anything to make you forgive me, Val," he yelled up to me. "I'll try anything."
He looked pathetic. Desperate and lonely and devastated and pathetic. He was smaller from this far away, the sun rendering him almost a shadow.
I shrugged. "I have some dry cleaning that needs to be done."
A confused frown creased Tommy's forehead. "Wha—"
"And I could probably use some new fuel for my car. And it needs a wash. You know how to wash a car, right? And meal prep. I don't have much spare time, so if you'd like to make some lunches for school this week, that would be cool."
Tommy didn't look any less confused, but that befuddlement was tinged with something that looked a little bit like hope. Poor, stupid boy. "And... and that's what will make you forgive me?"
"Oh, no chance," I said, with a high amused laugh. "But you said you'd try anything, so I just thought I'd point you in the right direction. If you're going to keep hanging around me in some ill-fated attempt to return to my good books, you may as well be helpful while you fail."
Tommy looked satisfyingly chastened. I looked skyward, absently hoping that nearby bird would shit on his head. I would rather enjoy that.
"How is this relationship supposed to work if you won't forgive me?"
I raised an eyebrow. "It's not. Did you think..." I pressed a hand to my heart dramatically. "Tommy, darling. Are you telling me you think that we're still in a relationship? Surely Sydney didn't screw that many brain cells out of you."
Tommy's hand clenched into a fist. "Valerie, we've been together for two years. Of course, we're still in a relationship. One speed bump isn't going to change that."
Across the road, I could see Trisha Lorne watering her garden and eyeing our front yard, and the clearly distraught Tommy, with interest. I gave her a small wave before turning back to my ex-boyfriend. "This isn't just a speed bump, love. This is a body on the road, and you ran it over. Maybe you can't tell the difference at the time, but you sure can afterward. And we are so dead."
"Two years, Valerie," Tommy said. "How can you throw that all away?"
I looked down at him coldly. "I didn't. You did."
Tommy pursed his lips. His face was red, tomato-esque, and it made me smile. "So, are you saying this is it?" Tommy snapped.
I examined a fingernail. "Yep."
"And there's nothing I can do to change it?"
I looked up at him with a bright smile. "I gave you a whole list of things to try!"
"So, what, you just want to use me?" he demanded. The tone of his voice had Trisha looking up from her gardenias. It was not a particularly effective way to have a conversation, but I couldn't deny my appreciation for the symbolism of looking down my nose at Tommy, as if on a pedestal above him.
"Use you?" I asked him. "Maybe. What are you going to do about it? Break up with me?"
Clenched jaw. Red cheeks. White-knuckled fists. "I want you back, Valerie."
"Maybe you should have thought about that before sleeping with my best friend."
"She came onto me!"
Trisha shook her head at Tommy's piss-weak explanation. Her expression was deliciously judgemental. I'd have to bake her some cookies this week.
I smiled down at Tommy dismissively. "And I am very sorry that you accidentally fell repeatedly into her vagina. That must be tough. But I think we've moved beyond blaming the woman's wily seduction, don't you?"
The sound of birds trilling merrily was the only response.
I swung my legs back inside my bedroom. I wanted some fucking pancakes.
I turned back to shut the window. Birds were picking at the spot near Tommy's feet as he looked back up at the window, as if he could summon me back. But not this girl; the Valerie who was compliant, who always agreed. Who let him fight and argue with Sydney, and never really protested. Who let Sydney make fun of Cora, and joined in because it was easier.
I bent out of the window. "And if you're going to pull a John Cusack, bring a boombox. And set it to play We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together."
And then I slammed the window shut.