Writerverse drabble - 'Secret'
“So, Lily...who is he?” Lynnie burst out the second we were inside our room, clearly unable to contain herself.
“There is no he,” I insisted, shooting a glare in Lucy's direction for getting me into this mess (she smiled innocently back at me in return).
“Oh, come on!” Lucy chipped in, “There quite obviously is. You may as well admit it. I bet you were with him today, weren’t you? Had a nice little romantic time, did you?”
I felt my cheeks flush red at that without my consent; because, really, just how right could she be, while at the same time being so completely and utterly wrong?
“Oh my god, you were!” Lynnie cried out, positively clapping her hands together in glee, “That’s so sweet! Are you properly together then or...?”
“No! No I wasn’t, and no we’re not. I don’t even like anyone, for fuck’s sake. Have you seen the state of the boys in my year?”
“So he’s not in your year then? Interesting,” Lucy teased, flicking a strand of golden hair behind her head, “Older or younger? Because I know you’re all mature and, you know, all that shit...but at the same time, you’re just the kind of freak that would end up dating a twelve-year-old or something...”
“Shut up, Lucy,” I groaned, shoving my head underneath my pillow, “Just give it a rest, would you?”
“I told you we should wait a while before telling her,” Lucy rolled her eyes in an irritatingly “knowing” way, “Oh well, too late now. You want to tell her what else we know, Lynnifer?”
By this point, Lynnie was practically bouncing out of her chair with excitement. Ridiculous child...
“You like Molly's [my heart stopped in my chest for a moment when she said “Molly", thinking my dippy sister had actually worked something out for once] boyfriend!”
“What?!” I turned to Lucy, who was staring at me with big, mock-innocent eyes. “Why are you feeding her this shit, Lou?”
Lucy looked vaguely hurt for half a second, but this look was quickly replaced by a knowing smile.
“In denial, are we? It’s fine,” she smiled in an almost sympathetic way (that somehow just made me want to strangle her even more), “I know it’s hard, liking your friend’s boyfriend. But we can sort this. Have you actually done anything with him yet?”
Before I could answer (or rather, tell her to shut the fuck up and stop talking complete shit for once in her small and pointless life) the doorbell rang and we were thankfully distracted; Lynnie rushing down to answer it while me and Lucy trailed behind reluctantly, not wanting to leave our littlest sister in the hands of potential paedophiles.
But it was just Mandy, a big dumb grin stretched out across her face.
“Lily! Hello! How’re you?” she babbled enthusiastically, stepping inside the house without invitation - then, before I had a chance to answer, turning to Lucy, “Oh, hi, Luce.” Her tone dropped, suddenly serious (or, at least, as close to serious as I’d ever known Mandy to be), “I need to talk to you. Can we go upstairs?”
I shot Lucy a curious look but she shrugged, evidently just as clueless as I was, and led Mandy upstairs, leaving me with just little Lynnie staring up at me, her big brown eyes asking the questions she herself was hesitant to ask.
“What’s going on?” she asked finally, after a few awkward moments of silence, “I mean, with Lucy and Mandy. And with you and...what’s his name?”
I frowned, unsure if she was being intentionally devious or if she’d just genuinely forgotten. Either way, I wasn’t risking falling into her possible trap and confirming her suspicions (though, of course, they were both so utterly wrong, though very close in some ways).
“What’s who’s name?”
“You know,” Lynnie smiled, looking suddenly bashful and more young and innocent than ever, “The boy you like. I mean... like like.” I opened my mouth to protest, but she carried on. “It’s lovely, isn’t it? I mean...I haven’t got a chance right now, but hopefully in the future I will. And I am only 12, so there’s no rush, I suppose.” I could tell from the reluctance in her tone that she didn’t really believe this (however true it was), that it was just what she’d been telling herself to make herself feel better. But I didn’t call her up on it; she’d clearly been feeling pretty down lately, even if she was a hell of a lot better at hiding it than either me or Lucy.
“Anyway. At your age, it’s about time, don’t you think?” she said pointedly, suddenly sounding so much like Lucy that I wanted to both laugh and cry in equal measure, “So, who is it?”
I rolled my eyes, somehow managing to resist the urge to strangle my youngest sister.
“There honestly isn’t anyone, Lynne,” I assured her, “Lucy’s just got the wrong end of the stick, as always. She just assumes that because all her so-called problems are boy-related, it must be the same for everyone else. But it’s not. Because some of us have more important things on our mind. Okay?” I turned on my heels and headed for the door, preparing to lock myself in the shed and get down to some homework and studying for at least the next few hours, but was stopped by a concerned little voice, calling out behind me.
“Like?”
I turned back around, confused.
“What?”
“What more important things do you have on your mind?”
I was caught off guard, speechless for once.
“Just...you know...homework, and stuff.”
Lynnie raised her eyebrows, looking decidedly unconvinced. “I know that’s not it, Lily. I’m not stupid, you know. I know you and Lucy think I'm just a stupid baby, but I'm not." I openned my mouth to protest, but she wouldn’t let me get a word in edgeways. “I’ll be thirteen in a few months, you know. A teenager, just like you two. So stop babying me and just tell me what’s going on for once.”
I struggled for words, feeling horribly guilty but knowing all too well there was no way I could tell the truth, to my sisters or to anyone else.
“I’m sorry, Lynne,” I sighed, hoping she could tell from my tone that I really was, that I wasn’t just saying it to shut her up for once, “You’re right, there is more to it than schoolwork, but...”
“So it’s about a boy?”
“No...can we just leave it, please?”
Lynnie opened her mouth, probably about to start some huge lecture, but was stopped by the sound of Mandy storming down the stairs, sobbing hysterically while Lucy followed close behind, patting her awkwardly and clearly struggling for the right thing to say. Both me and Lucy have this difficulty - not knowing what to say to people when they’re upset, how to comfort people, make them feel better or even just how to talk comfortably to strangers (Lucy patronises them and I ignore them. We make a fine team). Lynnie, on the other hand, is the complete opposite. She’s very outgoing, not in the overly bold and brash sense but just in the way that she can comfortably talk to and get on with almost anyone, and - despite her somewhat annoying tendencies - knows exactly how to cheer people up when they’re down. Definitely the nicest person in the family as well as the happiest...
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Mandy!” Lucy snapped, her sympathy limit clearly reached already, “I didn’t mean to upset you! I was just saying...”
“Well, maybe you shouldn’t just say things like that!” Mandy practically screeched, coming to the bottom of the stairs and grabbing her bag off the floor, “Maybe you could actually, I don’t know, think about someone else for once in your pathetic little life!”
I expected Lucy to come up with some smart, snappy retort to leave Mandy speechless, but to my surprise she looked genuinely devastated. She opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again, continuing this routine several times and looking incredibly like a demented fish (possibly not her best look). In the end she said nothing, just stared straight ahead, tears (already streaming down Mandy's face) welling in her eyes.
“Lucy!" Lynnie ran up to her, embracing her in a huge bear hug, “Oh, Lucy, what is it?”
Lucy looked at Mandy, who glared back at her. I'd never seen her look so furious.
“Go on,” she snarled, a humourless smirk appearing on her plump, spot-riddled face, “Tell them. Tell your precious sisters what you just told me.”
“Mandy..."
Many ignored her, muttered goodbyes to me and Lynnie and stomped her way out of the house, slamming the door behind her.
I turned to Lucy, concern and worry rising in the pit of my stomach.
“What was that all about, then?” I asked her softly (well, okay, my attempt at soft - in case you haven’t guessed, being “soft” isn’t really something that either appeals to or comes naturally to me).
She shook her head sadly, tears beginning to run down her face and stain her perfectly applied makeup.
“Nothing. Just...forget it. It’s fine,” she insisted incredibly unconvincing, furiously wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, “Just Mandy overreacting, as always.”
I frowned at her. Mandy may be silly and loud and irritating, but I’d never thought of her as a drama queen in anything but the most ridiculous sense. Nor had I ever thought of her as an even slightly spiteful or vindictive person...and yet the way she’d looked at Lucy just a few minutes ago...
Before I had time to ponder on this any longer our dearest mother came storming down the stairs, apparently having finally decided to live up to her supposed duties and see what all the noise was about.
“Darlings, what on earth is going on?!” she exclaimed in her typical melodramatic tone, flouncing into the living room in a ridiculous nightgown (her and my dad were apparently already in bed, despite it not even being nine yet. What exciting lives they lead...). However, all it took was one look at Lucy for her silly, staged worry to turn to genuine concern.
“Lucy? Lucy, honey, what is it?" She turned to Lynnie and me for enlightenment, getting only shrugs in return, “Who was it at the door? Have you broken up with...?” She frowned, obviously trying desperately hard to remember the name of Lucy’s latest fling (changes on a practically daily basis, to be fair).
“Jake. But no. I mean, I’m not even sure if we’re probably together, but that’s not who it was, and that’s not...look, it’s fine, honestly,” she attempted a smile, but her eyes, big and blue and miserable, gave her away, “Just forget it, Mum.”
“No, I will not forget it!” Mum snapped, sitting down on the couch next to where Lucy was now sitting, head in hands. “If it’s not a boy, then what is it? Some kind of girly tiff?”
“I said leave it, Mum!” Lucy snapped, standing up suddenly and heading upstairs. "I'm going to bed. I'll see you all the morning, okay?”
She was gone before any of us could protest, leaving me and Lynnie under the wrath of our mother and her insistent questioning. She turned to us.
“Would anyone like to enlighten me on what on earth is going on here?”
Lynnie shrugged helplessly, looking stupidly close to tears herself.
“We don’t know, Mum, honest. Mandy came round saying she needed to talk to Lucy, they went upstairs and the next thing me and Lils heard she was storming off, crying her eyes out.” Lynnie sighed, and turned to me. “I wish people would actually tell me what’s going on for once. I’m not a baby, you know.”
“What? No one thinks you’re a baby, sweetie,” said our mother, talking in a tone that suggested she thought just that, “But none of us know what’s up with Lu-Lu. Not even me, and I’m definitely not a baby, now am I?”
Lynnie scowled. “Whatever you say, Mum.” She stood up and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind her and calling back to us that she was going next door for a bit. I heard her gather her bags and head outside, sighing and muttering under her breath as she did so.
Mum turned to me, completely oblivious of her own stupidity.
“Goodness. Who rattled her cage?” she frowned, looking genuinely puzzled.
“Well...never mind, Mum,” I said, resisting the urge to roll my eyes, “I’m going upstairs to see if Lucy might talk to me now. You just go back to bed.”
I took my time walking to our room, secretly dreading the conversation that I knew awaited me. Me and Lucy; we might not get on all the time, but I really do love her - she’s my sister, and one of the most important people in my life; it’s just that I never know how to talk to her. We can fight and snap and tease (and sometimes even laugh and joke and chat, when we’re both in particularly good moods) but when it comes to serious things; I’m no good with things like this anyway, but with Lucy (and Lynnie, but she’s so relentlessly fucking cheerful that we don’t often have to worry about her) it’s worse, because I actually care about her, so much - I can’t detach myself from the situation, can’t look at it from an outsider’s point of view. So I just sit there, offering empty pleasantries every so often and trying to ignore the inevitable lump in my throat, hopelessly racking my brains for something - anything - to say, something that might break the silence and end the tension and get my sister back to her usual, irritatingly confident, bouncy self.
I paused when I reached our bedroom door, my heart pounding in my chest. It was all so fucking stupid. Why was I so nervous? I saw so bad at this; people, emotions, life. I was brilliant at school; hardworking, dedicated, smart. I knew all the facts, but I just couldn’t seem to apply them to real life. For all the years I’d spent at school, all the top marks and honours and hours spent revising, I knew nothing about the way the world worked, nothing about the way people worked. And that was why I couldn’t cope. With Lucy, with Molly, with anything. I was the product of a fault in design; academically perfect in every way but not even remotely equipped for life, with the social and emotional skills of a particularly stoic door-handle.
I was interrupted from my (miserable) train of thought by a call from inside the room.
“I know you’re out there, Lily. You can come in, you know. I don’t bite.” She was teasing, trying to make a joke, but still she sounded so fucking fragile, so vulnerable that it broke my heart, and I vowed there and then to put an end to whatever it was that had made my perfect little sister so fucking empty (whatever the cost).
I sighed and slowly pushed open the door. Lucy was sat on her bed, head buried in knees, silent tears running down her face. She jumped up when she saw me; wiped her eyes frantically, desperately attempting a smile.
“Lily,” her voice was oddly husky, like she had a cold. She patted the space next to her on the bed. “Come sit over here.”
“Lucy,” I sat down next to her, awkwardly taking her hand in mine. She flinched but didn’t move it away. “What is it? What’s happened, with Mandy?”
Lucy opened her mouth for a second, looking set to spill, but then closed it again, a smug, nasty looking suddenly spreading over her pretty little face.
“I’ll tell you if you tell me.”
“Lucy..."
“Look, Lils,” Lucy interrupted me, her tone unusually calm and rational given the fact that she was...well, Lucy, “Do you really expect me to tell you about my problems when you won’t tell me yours?” I opened my mouth to protest, but she cut me off again. “It’s not fair. You’re my sister, and I want to tell you things - I want you to help me. And I want to help you, but how can I when you keep everything to yourself all the time? It’s not like I’m gonna mind. Whether it’s or a boy, or a friendship drama or even some school thing...”
“It’s not that simple. I don’t - it’s not something that’s happened. I mean, something has happened, but...it’s more how I feel. And I can’t explain it, because I’m not sure I know.”
“Well, what do you think? And what’s happened?” Lucy, feeling me stiffen behind her, let out a long, impatient sigh. “Oh, come on, Lily. It must be driving you crazy, keeping everything inside all the time.”
“You should know.”
Lucy nodded. “Yeah, I do know. We’re both fucking secretive cows, aren’t we? But if you’d just...”
“It’s a girl.” I clapped my hand over my mouth, unable to fully believe what I’d just said. Lucy was staring at me, stunned, pure bewilderment in her eyes as realisation dawned on her; as she slowly took in what I’d just said, clearly trying to find some other meaning than the obvious one; the incriminating one...the real one.
We sat in silence for what felt like hours, before Lucy spoke.
“What do you...Lily, do you mean what I think you mean? And are you serious?” All nastiness, all humour and even all sadness and concern was gone from her voice, to be replaced by pure, unadulterated shock.
“What? No. Shit, no. Sorry, I...” I felt my face flush red, unwanted tears beginning to well in my eyes; I knew she wouldn’t understand, “I have to go now.”
And with that I ran out of the room and out of the house, slamming the door behind me, immune to the calls of protest from both my sisters. I didn’t care anymore. I had to get away.
“There is no he,” I insisted, shooting a glare in Lucy's direction for getting me into this mess (she smiled innocently back at me in return).
“Oh, come on!” Lucy chipped in, “There quite obviously is. You may as well admit it. I bet you were with him today, weren’t you? Had a nice little romantic time, did you?”
I felt my cheeks flush red at that without my consent; because, really, just how right could she be, while at the same time being so completely and utterly wrong?
“Oh my god, you were!” Lynnie cried out, positively clapping her hands together in glee, “That’s so sweet! Are you properly together then or...?”
“No! No I wasn’t, and no we’re not. I don’t even like anyone, for fuck’s sake. Have you seen the state of the boys in my year?”
“So he’s not in your year then? Interesting,” Lucy teased, flicking a strand of golden hair behind her head, “Older or younger? Because I know you’re all mature and, you know, all that shit...but at the same time, you’re just the kind of freak that would end up dating a twelve-year-old or something...”
“Shut up, Lucy,” I groaned, shoving my head underneath my pillow, “Just give it a rest, would you?”
“I told you we should wait a while before telling her,” Lucy rolled her eyes in an irritatingly “knowing” way, “Oh well, too late now. You want to tell her what else we know, Lynnifer?”
By this point, Lynnie was practically bouncing out of her chair with excitement. Ridiculous child...
“You like Molly's [my heart stopped in my chest for a moment when she said “Molly", thinking my dippy sister had actually worked something out for once] boyfriend!”
“What?!” I turned to Lucy, who was staring at me with big, mock-innocent eyes. “Why are you feeding her this shit, Lou?”
Lucy looked vaguely hurt for half a second, but this look was quickly replaced by a knowing smile.
“In denial, are we? It’s fine,” she smiled in an almost sympathetic way (that somehow just made me want to strangle her even more), “I know it’s hard, liking your friend’s boyfriend. But we can sort this. Have you actually done anything with him yet?”
Before I could answer (or rather, tell her to shut the fuck up and stop talking complete shit for once in her small and pointless life) the doorbell rang and we were thankfully distracted; Lynnie rushing down to answer it while me and Lucy trailed behind reluctantly, not wanting to leave our littlest sister in the hands of potential paedophiles.
But it was just Mandy, a big dumb grin stretched out across her face.
“Lily! Hello! How’re you?” she babbled enthusiastically, stepping inside the house without invitation - then, before I had a chance to answer, turning to Lucy, “Oh, hi, Luce.” Her tone dropped, suddenly serious (or, at least, as close to serious as I’d ever known Mandy to be), “I need to talk to you. Can we go upstairs?”
I shot Lucy a curious look but she shrugged, evidently just as clueless as I was, and led Mandy upstairs, leaving me with just little Lynnie staring up at me, her big brown eyes asking the questions she herself was hesitant to ask.
“What’s going on?” she asked finally, after a few awkward moments of silence, “I mean, with Lucy and Mandy. And with you and...what’s his name?”
I frowned, unsure if she was being intentionally devious or if she’d just genuinely forgotten. Either way, I wasn’t risking falling into her possible trap and confirming her suspicions (though, of course, they were both so utterly wrong, though very close in some ways).
“What’s who’s name?”
“You know,” Lynnie smiled, looking suddenly bashful and more young and innocent than ever, “The boy you like. I mean... like like.” I opened my mouth to protest, but she carried on. “It’s lovely, isn’t it? I mean...I haven’t got a chance right now, but hopefully in the future I will. And I am only 12, so there’s no rush, I suppose.” I could tell from the reluctance in her tone that she didn’t really believe this (however true it was), that it was just what she’d been telling herself to make herself feel better. But I didn’t call her up on it; she’d clearly been feeling pretty down lately, even if she was a hell of a lot better at hiding it than either me or Lucy.
“Anyway. At your age, it’s about time, don’t you think?” she said pointedly, suddenly sounding so much like Lucy that I wanted to both laugh and cry in equal measure, “So, who is it?”
I rolled my eyes, somehow managing to resist the urge to strangle my youngest sister.
“There honestly isn’t anyone, Lynne,” I assured her, “Lucy’s just got the wrong end of the stick, as always. She just assumes that because all her so-called problems are boy-related, it must be the same for everyone else. But it’s not. Because some of us have more important things on our mind. Okay?” I turned on my heels and headed for the door, preparing to lock myself in the shed and get down to some homework and studying for at least the next few hours, but was stopped by a concerned little voice, calling out behind me.
“Like?”
I turned back around, confused.
“What?”
“What more important things do you have on your mind?”
I was caught off guard, speechless for once.
“Just...you know...homework, and stuff.”
Lynnie raised her eyebrows, looking decidedly unconvinced. “I know that’s not it, Lily. I’m not stupid, you know. I know you and Lucy think I'm just a stupid baby, but I'm not." I openned my mouth to protest, but she wouldn’t let me get a word in edgeways. “I’ll be thirteen in a few months, you know. A teenager, just like you two. So stop babying me and just tell me what’s going on for once.”
I struggled for words, feeling horribly guilty but knowing all too well there was no way I could tell the truth, to my sisters or to anyone else.
“I’m sorry, Lynne,” I sighed, hoping she could tell from my tone that I really was, that I wasn’t just saying it to shut her up for once, “You’re right, there is more to it than schoolwork, but...”
“So it’s about a boy?”
“No...can we just leave it, please?”
Lynnie opened her mouth, probably about to start some huge lecture, but was stopped by the sound of Mandy storming down the stairs, sobbing hysterically while Lucy followed close behind, patting her awkwardly and clearly struggling for the right thing to say. Both me and Lucy have this difficulty - not knowing what to say to people when they’re upset, how to comfort people, make them feel better or even just how to talk comfortably to strangers (Lucy patronises them and I ignore them. We make a fine team). Lynnie, on the other hand, is the complete opposite. She’s very outgoing, not in the overly bold and brash sense but just in the way that she can comfortably talk to and get on with almost anyone, and - despite her somewhat annoying tendencies - knows exactly how to cheer people up when they’re down. Definitely the nicest person in the family as well as the happiest...
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Mandy!” Lucy snapped, her sympathy limit clearly reached already, “I didn’t mean to upset you! I was just saying...”
“Well, maybe you shouldn’t just say things like that!” Mandy practically screeched, coming to the bottom of the stairs and grabbing her bag off the floor, “Maybe you could actually, I don’t know, think about someone else for once in your pathetic little life!”
I expected Lucy to come up with some smart, snappy retort to leave Mandy speechless, but to my surprise she looked genuinely devastated. She opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again, continuing this routine several times and looking incredibly like a demented fish (possibly not her best look). In the end she said nothing, just stared straight ahead, tears (already streaming down Mandy's face) welling in her eyes.
“Lucy!" Lynnie ran up to her, embracing her in a huge bear hug, “Oh, Lucy, what is it?”
Lucy looked at Mandy, who glared back at her. I'd never seen her look so furious.
“Go on,” she snarled, a humourless smirk appearing on her plump, spot-riddled face, “Tell them. Tell your precious sisters what you just told me.”
“Mandy..."
Many ignored her, muttered goodbyes to me and Lynnie and stomped her way out of the house, slamming the door behind her.
I turned to Lucy, concern and worry rising in the pit of my stomach.
“What was that all about, then?” I asked her softly (well, okay, my attempt at soft - in case you haven’t guessed, being “soft” isn’t really something that either appeals to or comes naturally to me).
She shook her head sadly, tears beginning to run down her face and stain her perfectly applied makeup.
“Nothing. Just...forget it. It’s fine,” she insisted incredibly unconvincing, furiously wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, “Just Mandy overreacting, as always.”
I frowned at her. Mandy may be silly and loud and irritating, but I’d never thought of her as a drama queen in anything but the most ridiculous sense. Nor had I ever thought of her as an even slightly spiteful or vindictive person...and yet the way she’d looked at Lucy just a few minutes ago...
Before I had time to ponder on this any longer our dearest mother came storming down the stairs, apparently having finally decided to live up to her supposed duties and see what all the noise was about.
“Darlings, what on earth is going on?!” she exclaimed in her typical melodramatic tone, flouncing into the living room in a ridiculous nightgown (her and my dad were apparently already in bed, despite it not even being nine yet. What exciting lives they lead...). However, all it took was one look at Lucy for her silly, staged worry to turn to genuine concern.
“Lucy? Lucy, honey, what is it?" She turned to Lynnie and me for enlightenment, getting only shrugs in return, “Who was it at the door? Have you broken up with...?” She frowned, obviously trying desperately hard to remember the name of Lucy’s latest fling (changes on a practically daily basis, to be fair).
“Jake. But no. I mean, I’m not even sure if we’re probably together, but that’s not who it was, and that’s not...look, it’s fine, honestly,” she attempted a smile, but her eyes, big and blue and miserable, gave her away, “Just forget it, Mum.”
“No, I will not forget it!” Mum snapped, sitting down on the couch next to where Lucy was now sitting, head in hands. “If it’s not a boy, then what is it? Some kind of girly tiff?”
“I said leave it, Mum!” Lucy snapped, standing up suddenly and heading upstairs. "I'm going to bed. I'll see you all the morning, okay?”
She was gone before any of us could protest, leaving me and Lynnie under the wrath of our mother and her insistent questioning. She turned to us.
“Would anyone like to enlighten me on what on earth is going on here?”
Lynnie shrugged helplessly, looking stupidly close to tears herself.
“We don’t know, Mum, honest. Mandy came round saying she needed to talk to Lucy, they went upstairs and the next thing me and Lils heard she was storming off, crying her eyes out.” Lynnie sighed, and turned to me. “I wish people would actually tell me what’s going on for once. I’m not a baby, you know.”
“What? No one thinks you’re a baby, sweetie,” said our mother, talking in a tone that suggested she thought just that, “But none of us know what’s up with Lu-Lu. Not even me, and I’m definitely not a baby, now am I?”
Lynnie scowled. “Whatever you say, Mum.” She stood up and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind her and calling back to us that she was going next door for a bit. I heard her gather her bags and head outside, sighing and muttering under her breath as she did so.
Mum turned to me, completely oblivious of her own stupidity.
“Goodness. Who rattled her cage?” she frowned, looking genuinely puzzled.
“Well...never mind, Mum,” I said, resisting the urge to roll my eyes, “I’m going upstairs to see if Lucy might talk to me now. You just go back to bed.”
I took my time walking to our room, secretly dreading the conversation that I knew awaited me. Me and Lucy; we might not get on all the time, but I really do love her - she’s my sister, and one of the most important people in my life; it’s just that I never know how to talk to her. We can fight and snap and tease (and sometimes even laugh and joke and chat, when we’re both in particularly good moods) but when it comes to serious things; I’m no good with things like this anyway, but with Lucy (and Lynnie, but she’s so relentlessly fucking cheerful that we don’t often have to worry about her) it’s worse, because I actually care about her, so much - I can’t detach myself from the situation, can’t look at it from an outsider’s point of view. So I just sit there, offering empty pleasantries every so often and trying to ignore the inevitable lump in my throat, hopelessly racking my brains for something - anything - to say, something that might break the silence and end the tension and get my sister back to her usual, irritatingly confident, bouncy self.
I paused when I reached our bedroom door, my heart pounding in my chest. It was all so fucking stupid. Why was I so nervous? I saw so bad at this; people, emotions, life. I was brilliant at school; hardworking, dedicated, smart. I knew all the facts, but I just couldn’t seem to apply them to real life. For all the years I’d spent at school, all the top marks and honours and hours spent revising, I knew nothing about the way the world worked, nothing about the way people worked. And that was why I couldn’t cope. With Lucy, with Molly, with anything. I was the product of a fault in design; academically perfect in every way but not even remotely equipped for life, with the social and emotional skills of a particularly stoic door-handle.
I was interrupted from my (miserable) train of thought by a call from inside the room.
“I know you’re out there, Lily. You can come in, you know. I don’t bite.” She was teasing, trying to make a joke, but still she sounded so fucking fragile, so vulnerable that it broke my heart, and I vowed there and then to put an end to whatever it was that had made my perfect little sister so fucking empty (whatever the cost).
I sighed and slowly pushed open the door. Lucy was sat on her bed, head buried in knees, silent tears running down her face. She jumped up when she saw me; wiped her eyes frantically, desperately attempting a smile.
“Lily,” her voice was oddly husky, like she had a cold. She patted the space next to her on the bed. “Come sit over here.”
“Lucy,” I sat down next to her, awkwardly taking her hand in mine. She flinched but didn’t move it away. “What is it? What’s happened, with Mandy?”
Lucy opened her mouth for a second, looking set to spill, but then closed it again, a smug, nasty looking suddenly spreading over her pretty little face.
“I’ll tell you if you tell me.”
“Lucy..."
“Look, Lils,” Lucy interrupted me, her tone unusually calm and rational given the fact that she was...well, Lucy, “Do you really expect me to tell you about my problems when you won’t tell me yours?” I opened my mouth to protest, but she cut me off again. “It’s not fair. You’re my sister, and I want to tell you things - I want you to help me. And I want to help you, but how can I when you keep everything to yourself all the time? It’s not like I’m gonna mind. Whether it’s or a boy, or a friendship drama or even some school thing...”
“It’s not that simple. I don’t - it’s not something that’s happened. I mean, something has happened, but...it’s more how I feel. And I can’t explain it, because I’m not sure I know.”
“Well, what do you think? And what’s happened?” Lucy, feeling me stiffen behind her, let out a long, impatient sigh. “Oh, come on, Lily. It must be driving you crazy, keeping everything inside all the time.”
“You should know.”
Lucy nodded. “Yeah, I do know. We’re both fucking secretive cows, aren’t we? But if you’d just...”
“It’s a girl.” I clapped my hand over my mouth, unable to fully believe what I’d just said. Lucy was staring at me, stunned, pure bewilderment in her eyes as realisation dawned on her; as she slowly took in what I’d just said, clearly trying to find some other meaning than the obvious one; the incriminating one...the real one.
We sat in silence for what felt like hours, before Lucy spoke.
“What do you...Lily, do you mean what I think you mean? And are you serious?” All nastiness, all humour and even all sadness and concern was gone from her voice, to be replaced by pure, unadulterated shock.
“What? No. Shit, no. Sorry, I...” I felt my face flush red, unwanted tears beginning to well in my eyes; I knew she wouldn’t understand, “I have to go now.”
And with that I ran out of the room and out of the house, slamming the door behind me, immune to the calls of protest from both my sisters. I didn’t care anymore. I had to get away.