It has been agreed that no one needs to know that I’m a pseudo-sire to a school friend’s child as well. My parents know that I know who it is, but I’ve not given them his name.
Jay.
I want to be angry with him. I want to think that he took advantage of Hannah. But this is Hannah and I remember very clearly what she said the night I pulled Tyrone off her: No one can make me do anything I don’t want to do… least of all that.
In all the time I’ve known her, there hasn’t been a single time when I’ve questioned that statement. Not even now.
A week after I found out, instead of being angry with Jay, I find that I’m angry with Hannah.
TUESDAY 23RD FEBRUARY
HANNAH
“Aaron’s here!” Robert calls up the stairs.
“Aaron!” Lola screeches from inside the bathroom and comes running out in her bathrobe, all pink from the bath, leaving Mum kneeling by the bathtub, giving me a look as if I was supposed to stop her. I hear Lola launch herself at Aaron and I peer over the banister to see him hugging her before putting her down and shooing her back up the stairs before him.
“…past your bedtime?” I hear as he gets nearer.
“It’s story time now,” Lola replies, then she turns and grabs his hand. “You can read to me. Two chapters of Mr Gum.”
“One chapter, Lolly,” Mum says and looks at Aaron. If you drew a fat black question mark above her head her thoughts couldn’t have been clearer.
“Mum, Aaron’s—” I start to say, but Mum cuts me off with a look and Lola wins, as always.
I go and wait in my bedroom, notes spread out on my bed and Post-its ready to be peeled off and stuck in the right pages of my study guide. I shouldn’t resent him spending time with Lola, but I do. Aaron was someone who was meant to be mine. He’s my friend, doing something amazing for me, not a stand-in brother for Lola, not another person to help Mum out. By the time he comes in I’ve worked myself into a pretty dark mood.
“Sorry. She insisted on another chapter. I didn’t know what to do so I just carried on for one more and then she was half-asleep anyway.”
“Explains why you took so long,” I say and turn away.
“Yes, that’s why I just said it — I was explaining.” He sits down on my swivel chair and looks at my notes scattered everywhere. “Where do you want to start?”
I shrug. Now Aaron’s here to help with my revision, all I want to do is strop at him. I want a fight with someone.
Actually, I want a fight with Aaron since he avoided me all last week. When I told him how things were with Jay — and when it all started — it was down the phone. Not exactly ideal. I expected him to say something. I don’t know what. Maybe I thought he’d tell me that he was there for me? Or that he understood? That it didn’t change things? But he said nothing at all.
Then he went away to some wedding and, now he’s back, it’s as if we never had that conversation. And he’s here for me. He seems to understand. As if nothing’s changed at all.
“What have you got so far?” he asks.
When I hand him my latest notes, half of them slide out of my hand so he has to pick them up from the floor and I resist the temptation to scuff them about with my foot. Aaron skim reads what I’ve done.
“It’s a good start, but I think you need to explore the relationship between truth and belief a little bit further.” And he’s off on one, talking about the book like it’s something he really cares about.
I glower at him as he talks. He’s really good-looking, which annoys me. I thought he was quite cute when he started, but he’s had a haircut since and the more you know him, the better he looks. Some boys are like that, aren’t they? I guess personality has a lot to do with attractiveness, which is why when you get to know half of them they instantly become less fit.
“Aaron?” I cut across whatever he’s saying.
“Hm?”
“What happened at the wedding you went to?”
He shrugs. “My cousin got married. Mum got a bit drunk. Dad danced. Badly.”
“Were there girls there?” I’m not sure what’s making me go in this direction, but there’s something niggling away at me.
“Uh-huh.”
“Pretty ones?”
“I guess.” Aaron’s looking at the book, deliberately not looking up at me and I see him swallow, just once and I know. I just know.
He so pulled someone at the wedding.
AARON
So I pulled someone at the wedding. So what? It’s not as if I’m going to see her again.
I don’t need to justify it.
Not to myself, not to Hannah.
Least of all to Hannah.
She slept with someone. I know this. I have always known this. It’s not as if I thought she had an immaculate conception. But the father is Jay. Jay. It’s been a lot to take in. And if there’s one thing I needed to do, it was to remind myself of where I stand: real friend, fake father. One thing I never have been is Hannah’s boyfriend.
So, whatever it feels like, however she is looking at me, I have not cheated.
WEDNESDAY 24TH FEBRUARY
HANNAH
I cried myself to sleep last night. What did she look like? Who approached who? What did they do together? I let myself think about what I would do if I saw a fit boy at some family thing and I know that it would involve more than a peck on the cheek and a bit of hand-holding. But then, not every girl is like me. Still. All I could think about was Aaron kissing someone. Aaron’s hands on someone’s skin, undressing them. I picture his eyes closed as he enjoys whatever’s going on and it makes me feel sick.
I can’t believe I’m jealous.
AARON
Hannah asked me to walk to the shop with her at lunchtime. I find her waiting for me outside the school. Her coat won’t quite do up any more and she’s wearing a thick non-regulation scarf to bridge the gap in her lapels, hands rammed deep into her pockets. The way she’s standing, staring so intently at the floor, concerns me. She turns as I approach, eyes still on the ground as she falls into step with me up the path and past the school gates.
“What is it, Han?” I stop when we get beyond sight of the school.
Hannah stares at the ground, frowning. “I don’t want it to be like this.”
“Neither do I,” I say.
“I know you pulled at the wedding.” She’s so sure of the truth that she doesn’t even look up to check. “And you shouldn’t have felt like you needed to hide it.”
There’s nothing I can say to that.
“I just want you to know that you don’t have to keep secrets from me. You can trust me.” She glances up and I step closer. “I trust you.”
And I know that she is thinking about the one secret that’s been so huge that she hasn’t been able to tell a single soul. Except me.
“Hannah.” I put my arm around her and pull her into a hug, the way I should have done the night she told me that Jay was the father. Maybe he isn’t the only one who’s let her down. I press my face into her hair for a second. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re forgiven,” she mumbles into my collar.