Not My Problem

Holly leaned into Jill and whispered something, and Jill laughed and I felt so lonely. I’d arrived into registration slightly out of breath, as I’d had to run past Ms. Devlin to get there before her. Meabh was at the front of the room but there was no free space beside her. I took a spot near the door, realizing too late that it was next to Ronan. He was making obscene gestures to the boy next to him and I did my best not to hear a thing they said. I wondered if Holly had texted me while I’d been off. I hadn’t charged my phone yet. I think I was afraid to see that she hadn’t.

Ms. Devlin entered the room several seconds after me. She raised her eyebrow when she saw me panting on my bouncy ball.

“Nice form this morning, Aideen,” she said.

I laughed. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“All right, lads, I want to remind you that the student council election is on Friday this week. There’s a debate on Thursday after final period that I’d like you all to attend—”

“You might not have a life, miss, but I’m not going to any debate after school. I’d rather be kicked in the balls,” Ronan scoffed.

“That makes two of us. You’re dismissed,” she said, with a wave of her hand.

It took Ronan a second to catch on. The snickers around the room were the only thing that alerted him.

“Miss, you cannot just say you wish I’d get kicked in the balls!”

“Certainly I couldn’t say those words, in that order, where anyone could hear me. But as long as my meaning is ambiguous, then I think it’s fine. Yes, Holly?”

I swiveled to see Holly with her hand in the air.

“Miss, I think this is a problem. No one is going to come if it’s after school. Can we not make it an in-school event? Like last period or something?”

“Ronan can still go get kicked in the balls, though, if that’s okay with you,” Jill added.

My stomach flipped as I watched Ms. Devlin consider this. I knew what this debate was. A chance for Holly to shine and for Meabh to come off as stuffy and boring and aggressive. Holly had said she wanted to beat Meabh publicly, and she wanted the whole school to see it.

“I think that’s a good idea, actually,” Meabh said. “As many people as possible should hear our ideas.”

Meabh still thought if she brought the best ideas people would vote for her.

For someone who had “reading the news” in her daily schedule, I don’t know how she maintained such naive optimism. I wanted it to be true for her though.

“I think we could work something out,” Ms. Devlin said thoughtfully. “I don’t see why seniors couldn’t take one class to engage in the democratic process. Mandatorily. And I have a first-year English class at that time. They could come too and watch persuasive writing in action.”

Meabh and Holly wore equally smug expressions.

One period later I was back in the PE hall. I hadn’t a clue what had happened in geography class. In the week I was away, I’d missed something vital. It had been worth it, though, I told myself. I was worried about Mam. I carried it around with me like a heavy stone in my chest but I was hopeful she wouldn’t mess up the good start I’d given her. A little part of me was happy too, knowing I’d get a chance to see Meabh soon and talk to her properly. Underneath all the worry there was a giddy flutter in my stomach and it became stronger the closer to the PE hall I got.

“I’m glad to see you back today, Aideen,” Ms. Devlin said when I approached her with my note. “I spoke with your teachers while you were gone. Miss Hennessy told me there had been some improvement before you got ‘sick.’ I want to see that continue now that you’re back.”

She didn’t use air quotes around the word sick, but I heard them all the same.

“Miss Hennessy . . . ,” I said, rubbing my chin. “Remind me?”

“Your Maths teacher,” Ms. Devlin said dryly. “The one who uses numbers instead of words.”

“Riiiight. I’m practically a model student,” I said, and I found myself feeling cheerful, like the weight in my chest had lightened a little. “Am I getting one of those awards they give out at the end of the year? Did you call me back because you want to ask about my trophy preferences? Gold is fine.”

“The committee will be in touch about engraving later. We want to make sure we spell your name right, of course,” she replied. “Actually, I wanted to ask you what you’ve been doing differently.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you’ve been struggling in Maths for as long as you’ve been at this school. I’ve been pestering you since September about handing in homework and you ignore everything I say. All of a sudden I’m hearing you’re actually doing it. At least in one class.”

“I had some help.” I couldn’t keep the smile from my face when Meabh came up, even if no one had actually said her name.

“From?”

“From a friend.”

“Is your friend a secret?”

“I guess not.” Why was I so reluctant to tell Ms. Devlin anything? I felt like it was like being arrested. Where anything you say can and will be used against you. “Meabh Kowalska.” There was the smile again. Betraying me.

“Ahhh. She’s helping you when the two of you are up there slacking off.” She jerked her head toward the balcony.

“Miss. Honestly. Meabh is not slacking.” I felt very defensive of her. “She has a sprained ankle. And I have the vapors.” I handed her my note.

“The vapors?”

“Yes. Vapors. From my womb.”

“That sounds serious.”

“You’re right. Maybe I should go home and lie down.”

“How are things at home?”

I wanted to kick myself. I’d set my own trap.

“Fantastic,” I said. “Could not be better.”

A slip is a slip is a slip. It didn’t mean going back to square one. She’d had a whole week of being sober. A week was a good start. I bet in AA there was a chip for that. In Mam’s group there were no chips. Maybe I should make her a chip.

“I could get you help in your other subjects. We talked about this.”

“Miss, honestly, I don’t know how much more you want from me. I’ve done my Maths homework. I’m getting that trophy. Your expectations are so high.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m glad things seem to be going well. I have my eye on you, though.”

Weirdly that didn’t make me feel nervous. It was kind of nice to think someone had their eye on me.

Meabh was hunched over her laptop up in the balcony. I felt the giddiness ramp up yet again and I felt very aware of my body being awkward. It was full of nervous energy. Meabh had already spread pages of notes around and she had tied her hair back and she had one pen behind her ear, one in her mouth, and a long pen mark on her neck. She’d thrown her jumper off and so she was just in her school shirt. I could just see the shadow of a lime-green sports bra underneath.

What should I say?

Her skirt was hitched up again and her long legs caught my eye. I remembered our almost kiss the night of the party.

How should I say it?

I remembered seeing her in her wet T-shirt, watching her peel it off, and I felt a hot rush through my body. I wondered what she would do if I kissed her now and I thought about how much more fun that would be than doing Maths homework every PE class.

How do you have a normal facial expression? Mine was being weird.

A montage of images flooded my head. Even though I knew that Meabh would never consider letting me kiss her neck, loosen her school tie, unbutton her shirt, and slide my hands up her thighs on school property. It would be sacrilegious to her.

But I could picture it.

“Hi,” I said, hoping I sounded casual but sexy but mysterious and exciting. It was a lot to ask of one word.

She grunted in reply and didn’t look up.

Okay. Well, she was working. I knew it would take a lot to distract her from work. But Ms. Devlin had often called me “a lot” so I was more than capable. I mean, granted, she meant in a different kind of way, but that was fine.

I sat on the bench nearest to the zone Meabh had designated her work area. That zone encompassed an approximately three-mile radius of nerd debris, but I got as close as I could and stretched out on it, trying to appear as though I was just naturally lounging while scrunched-up papers scratched my leg and a pen lodged under my hip. I propped my head up on my hands and fluttered my eyelashes. Was I doing sexy right? Should I be doing this pose on a piano instead?

“So . . . I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch since the party. Or, well, after the party,” I said, hoping to nudge her memory. “It was really fun though. Thanks for helping.”

“Hmph,” Meabh said.

I did not like that tone.

“Uh . . . are you okay?” I said, reaching out and putting my hand on her arm. I felt like I was in trouble, so now was not the time to think about Meabh’s arms or to notice that I could feel her biceps through the fabric. But they were tensed. Not a good sign, but I just wondered what it would it be like if she used them to pin me down.

Jesus, stop it. Somehow now that the Meabh is hot switch had been flicked, no pun intended, it was all I could think about when I looked at her.

But she shook my hand off her arm.

“I don’t have time for you right now.” Her voice was cold enough to douse my sudden hornball energy. I sat up, feeling stupid and humiliated.

“What’s your problem, what did I do?”

“Nothing,” she snapped. “You didn’t do anything.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She was mad. It made my heart pound, and not in the Meabh is so hot kind of way.

“I know you don’t,” she said. She was being infuriatingly smug too. She had that stupid smug face that she always got when she was right and everyone else was wrong. “That’s kind of the problem.”

“I hate that face,” I said, feeling a surge of anger. Where did she get off being mad at me? “All I’ve ever done is try and help you.”

“Oh really?” she said loftily. “See, I think I’ve been helping you all this time. I’ve helped you with Maths. I’ve helped you carry your groceries home. I’ve helped you with your stupid favors. You couldn’t even be there for me on the worst week of my life.”

Each sentence was like another sucker punch. She thought I was a burden. She thought I was stupid and I needed her help. She thought I was some kind of charity case. She didn’t even like me. I stood up and curtsied to her.

“Well, thank you, Queen Meabh. All the poor, stupid people are supposed to be grateful for your kind assistance, right?”

She looked shocked. She hadn’t expected me to stick up for myself. No one ever did. I didn’t expect it. The words just sort of burst out of me and they didn’t stop.

“You think that you help me with my Maths homework a few times and that means you’re saving me, right? And you can put it on a transcript or you can talk about your good deeds in an interview someday. Fuck. You. Your dad is disappointed with you and that’s your biggest problem? You have no fucking idea what the worst week of my life would look like.”

She looked stupid, sitting on the floor with her ridiculous manifesto, and I walked away from her, down the stairs, and out into the brisk breeze. As I watched the class doing ladder runs on the field, I replayed the look on her face and took a moment of pleasure from the vicious feeling I’d had. Now, in the cold morning air, I felt empty, but in a good way, like I’d finally released something toxic that had been building up inside me.

I didn’t think about whether it had been aimed at the right person.

When the bell rang at eleven for our quick break, I went to find Kavi, hoping he’d know what specific stick was up Meabh’s ass. I thought I remembered him having geography at this time so I headed in that direction. Usually when I wanted Kavi he simply appeared. Often when I didn’t want him, too, so looking for him was a weird sensation. I stopped a few people who had the same geography class but they couldn’t remember if he’d been in or not. I found him, though, walking toward the café with a reusable cup in hand. When he caught sight of me, a weird expression took over his face. I jostled against the crowd until I reached him, then pulled him into an empty classroom.

Of course, when I look back on the conversation that happened next I want to burn it from my memory. But the technology does not yet exist. It’s one of those conversations you replay for a long time after and you still feel as terrible as you did when it happened.

“What’s going on? Meabh’s mad at me. And I can tell there’s something wrong with you too and you haven’t even said anything.”

“I’m angry too,” he said evenly.

I waited a beat for the long story about another time when he was angry. It didn’t come. Apparently angry Kavi didn’t ramble.

I racked my brain. Okay, I knew he’d sent me a message and I hadn’t read it or replied. But I had a good excuse. “Why though?”

His eyes bugged. “You have been MIA for seven days! You haven’t answered a single text. They haven’t even delivered since Wednesday.”

“Okay,” I said. So maybe I’d missed an opportunity for a favor but as far as he knew, I was sick all week so he could hardly be mad about that. “I’m sorry. My phone died. I was sick.”

“I thought something really bad had happened to you.”

He seemed really upset and I started to feel the familiar tug of guilt. I didn’t like it.

“I was sick. That’s all. It’s not a big deal.” I heard the words come out irritably and I knew Kavi didn’t deserve that, but he shouldn’t push me on this. I was entitled to privacy. And all I’d done was ignore my phone for a few days.

“I don’t believe you. Sick people can text. And yeah, Meabh’s mad too. Something really bad did happen to her and you weren’t here.”

“What, so you two were just sitting around all week talking about me behind my back?” I was getting angry now. It was a good thing I hadn’t told them what was actually going on; that would really give them something to gossip about.

“Yes! Obviously we were talking about you! You come up from time to time. Especially when you disappear. That’s what happens when you have friends who actually like you.”

It took a second for that to hit me because I wasn’t expecting it from him, but when it did, it stung.

“What happened to Meabh?” I asked.

“Someone uploaded a video of Meabh chasing after a first year with a reusable cup that he’d thrown in the bin. She threw it at his head and gave him a lecture. You know how she is . . .”

I tried to withhold a smile. I could fully envision that scenario.

“But they sent it round to half the school and the comments got nasty. There were so many of them.”

Ouch. I thought about Meabh on her phone reading through pages and pages of people hating her. Kavi wasn’t done though.

“It’s all anyone was talking about last week. Meabh was devastated,” Kavi continued. “I know people call her annoying all the time. They make fun of her for being the way she is, but it is who she is and seeing everyone hate for it like that, it was too much. She missed school over it.”

Meabh’s never taken a day off school. Nothing could have told me how bad it was more than this. A hot flush of shame burned inside me.

“I had to go around to her house and talk her into coming back. And she’s so amazing she just decided to try harder. She said she still wants to make things better for everyone. Even if they hate her for it.”

Kavi was silent for a few minutes. I felt like there was something else he was trying to say. He didn’t quite look at me when he asked.

“Who do you think posted it?” he asked, clearly attempting an even tone.

No. I couldn’t even think that. It was too cruel, even for her.

Was it?

Besides if she was going to try and take down Meabh, wouldn’t she use the paper to do it?

That would be too obvious. She’d need more than a stupid video for an article. She’d need a real story.

“You don’t know it was her,” I said.

He looked disgusted. “I don’t know why you can’t break away from her. Especially now. After this.”

“Jesus, Kavi, give me a fucking break. I have stuff going on too.”

He had no idea how I’d spent my week.

“So tell me what’s going on,” he said, frustrated. “I’ve been here. I’ve reached out to you. You’d see that if you turned on your damn phone. I would have gone to see you, too, but I don’t know where you live.”

“It’s none of your business. Where I live or what’s going on.”

He eyed me steadily and gave me a minute to change my mind. I stared back. Finally he gave up.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you. I wish you would tell me, but I respect that maybe you have a good reason not to. But I am not disposable. I’m not a toy you can play with when it suits you and then ignore when you have other stuff to do. If you want to be my friend, you have to stop treating me like I don’t exist if you’re not looking directly at me.”

I was stunned. I didn’t do that. What the fuck? Just because I didn’t text him back for a few days? Just because I didn’t tell him all the details of my shitty life? Who the hell was he to demand I tell him everything?

“I never said I wanted to be your friend,” I said snidely, feeling the hot flush turn to anger. “You didn’t really give me any choice.”

Kavi didn’t react. His face was blank.

I left him there like that.

Too far, dickhead.

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. You’re the stupid voice in my head that thinks all these mean things and now that I actually say them it’s wrong?

It’s not Kavi you’re mad at. It’s not Meabh.

Yes it was. He was being intrusive and demanding and he had no idea what was going on in my life and if he was going to have a hissy fit every time I didn’t answer a message, then he was too high-maintenance for me. And Meabh. Well, if the comments on Meabh’s video didn’t include the words high-maintenance I’d eat my face.

You sound just like Holly.

I muddled through Maths, completely lost. We’d moved on to a new topic and my brain hurt. I should give up. I’d just got my head around trigonometry and now we were on something totally different. How was I supposed to keep up?

By going to school maybe?

It felt like it was too late. My brain flooded with all the things I didn’t understand. Eight subjects and I was drowning in all of them. How was I ever going to get back on track when I couldn’t even remember the last time I was on track? How could I keep social services off my back, the teachers off my back? What was I going to do about my best friend, who was horrible to the girl I maybe kind of liked? Meabh didn’t deserve any of this. Even if she didn’t like me back anymore. And Kavi. I’d hurt Kavi because I was too afraid to tell anyone about Mam and because I’d let myself take out my shame and frustration and anger on the sweetest person I knew. How would I stop Mam from drinking? She could be drinking right now. She could be hurtling us both toward disaster in spite of everything I’d done to stop her.

My heart was beating so fast I thought I was going to throw up. My chest was too tight to let air in. I was suffocating in this room. The windows were closed. They were painted shut. How the hell was anyone supposed to breathe like that? We were all stuck breathing each other’s air. It was making me sick. I could practically feel that the air I was taking in was used and grimy and secondhand. I scrambled back from my desk and ran out of the room, not stopping to hear if Miss Hennessy called my name. I ran the length of the hall and down the stairs so no one could follow me.

For some reason I found myself at the sick bay door, and for some reason I knocked.

Sister D answered.

“I don’t feel right,” I said, breathless.

She ushered me in with a comforting hand on my back. Something about the softness of her touch made me want to hug her.

“Lie down, dear.”

I got into the sick bay bed, with its flat pillows and thin mattress you could feel the springs through.

Sister D shoved a thermometer into my mouth.

“Your eyes are hanging out of your head. Were you up all night playing computer games?” she asked, mild chastisement in her voice.

I shook my head.

“Is it your period, dear?” She nodded knowingly.

I shook my head.

She took the thermometer from my mouth and inspected it. I highly doubted her eyesight was good enough to read it.

“Stomach bug?”

I shook my head. Then I remembered I could talk.

“I feel— My chest feels tight, like I can’t breathe.”

She drew a stethoscope from her pocket and put it to my chest. She motioned for me to sit up and I did.

“Turn around and lift up your jumper.”

I did as she said and she pressed the stethoscope to my back as well. When she was done she gestured to me to lie back down.

“I have just the thing for you,” she said, and she opened the cupboard, popped a pill from a foil pack, and poured me a glass of water.

“Diazepam?” I asked hopefully.

“Benadryl,” she replied.

“I don’t have allergies. I don’t need an antihistamine.”

“You need to sleep. Look at the bags under your eyes. Goodness gracious.”

Skeptically, I swallowed.

I remembered thinking an antihistamine wasn’t going to do much for me.

I remembered that when I woke up and saw from the clock on the wall that it was after one.

Holly was sitting in the seat beside my bed. She had a coffee from the café and a pain au chocolat, which she handed to me. She felt my forehead with the back of her hand like she was a human thermometer.

“You are having the worst luck,” she said, sipping from her own coffee cup.

“You know you get ten cents off if you bring a reusable cup in.”

“Yeah, I know, but I always forget.”

“I’m fine, anyway,” I said. “Just tired.”

I didn’t know what else to say. I also knew I wasn’t looking her in the eye but I couldn’t bring myself to. I didn’t want to look at her. I wasn’t sure what I’d see. Would I see my life-long best friend? Would I melt? Would I see someone who was cruel and horrible and mean and I’d explode in anger?

“I’ve been worried about you,” she said, and she patted me on the thigh.

“Have you?”

I wasn’t sure if I wanted that to be sarcastic or not. It came out with a softness I didn’t like the sound of. It reminded me of Dad telling Mam he loved her. She would always say Do you? in a way that made me feel sorry for her. Like she wanted it to be true more than anything, but she couldn’t quite believe it.

“Of course I have, silly.”

You could have come around to check on me. You know where I live.

She had come to see me now, in the sick bay, though.

“How’s business?” she said then, changing the subject. “You must have loads of things backed up since you’ve been off.”

“It’s not a business.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I really need to get up,” I said. “Lunch is nearly done and I can’t miss the whole day. Ms. Devlin will go apeshit.”

“I’ll walk with you,” Holly offered. “I can read you bits from my debate speech. See what you think?”

“I have to go to my locker first.” I grimaced. “Besides, I wouldn’t understand your speech.”

Holly laughed. “I know, but it’ll help me get it into my head.”

I caught her eye for the first time since she had walked into the room. She didn’t blink. She didn’t think there was anything wrong.

I know. I know. I know.