“He doesn’t look fine. He looks out of it.”
My ears ring, and I slide my back down the bus shelter until I’m sitting on the cold, hard ground. My hands go to the asphalt, and I focus on the loose pieces, rolling my fingers over them, trying not to breathe through my nose with the man smoking still too close.
“I’m taking him home. Everything’s good.” Teddy squats next to me and places a hand on my knee. I stare at him, struggling to focus. “Come on, Bay, get up. Let’s go home,” he whispers. I shake my head. “Yes, you can do it.” He stands and holds a hand out.
I stare at it for a long time, focusing on the dark hair that dusts the back, the veins that run up towards his wrist. Maybe my punishment was never meant to be physical. I take his hand, letting him pull me to my feet. Maybe my punishment will be having him shout at me as he tells me I’m sick and wrong. Words will cut me so much deeper than any knife could, anyway. Slowly, I put one foot in front of the other, following Teddy back to my house, his hand never leaving mine.
When we’re back inside, I’m made to sit on the sofa with a blanket wrapped around me. I don’t argue. I’m shaking so hard my teeth start to knock together. He leaves me, and I hear the noise of the kettle boiling, a teaspoon clinking against china. A cup is pushed into my hand and Teddy sits next to me.
“You okay?” he asks.
Of course I’m not. I just found out that I did the one thing I swore I’d never do, and now my body is on alert, waiting for a punishment. Waiting for Shane to show up and knock on my door after I hid from him for twelve years. I don’t even bother trying to answer Teddy—my voice is locked up tight.
“Look. What happened—it wasn’t your fault.”
I frown at him. I may not have realised what I was doing that night, but choosing to stay with him for so long, knowing hurting him was a possibility—thatwas my fault. Shane warned me, but I didn’t listen to him, ignoring my own fears, wanting something I knew I couldn’t keep.
“I was wrong,” Teddy says quietly, looking away from me. “At the time I thought it was you, Bay. When I woke up, whatever drug that was used on me was still in my system. Everything was hazy, and I was terrified. I didn’t realise …” He takes a deep breath. “It was Shane.”
I shake my head.
“Yes. I fucked up, Bay.” He swipes away a tear on his cheek.
I count to ten in my head, slowly and steadily, trying to control my breathing, focusing on letting my voice out. “N-no.” It couldn’t have been Shane. Everything Teddy told me is exactly something I would have done. The animals. The fire.
Me.
Always me.
I stand up quickly, dropping the blanket. “That’s—that’s not true. Y-you shouldn’t be here alone with me. You need to go.”
Teddy gets up, following me. “You’re not listening to me.” He raises his voice slightly. “It was Shane.”
I back away, and he grabs my arm.
“There’s things you don’t know, Teddy,” I say desperately, trying to pull free from his grip. I don’t want to tell him. Don’t want to admit everything I’ve done.
“So tell me!”
“Because it’s so fucking easy!” I snap. “J-just open my mouth and tell you everything?”
“We had two years together, Bay, and you never told me a thing, except that your mum was an alcoholic. This is more than that, and you hid it from me.”
My face crumples. “Because I couldn’t!” I choke out. “I had to hide it. I was s-scared.”
“I know … fuck, I’m sorry, okay. Just—just tell me what I’m missing here,please.”
I look into his eyes, two pools of warm whisky staring right back at me, imploring. “It’s not the first time,” I say, looking sharply away from him.
“What’s not the first time?”
“The blackouts. I had them on and off throughout my childhood.” Teddy’s grip loosens, and I finally break free, putting distance between us. “The first was when I was t-ten. There was a house fire, and the only thing I remember is Shane telling me that I—that I started it on purpose. M-my dad never got out.” I turn away from him and look up at the ceiling, my eyes burning as tears escape. Teddy’s gone deathly still behind me. If this is what it takes to make him leave for good, then I’ll tell him everything. And if he calls the police on me, then maybe that will be punishment enough. At least there’ll be no more secrets between us.
“After that, I would start waking up to find dead mice in my room. In my bed, in the wardrobe, everywhere.” I dare to turnaround and look at him, expecting to see disgust, but all I see is confusion.
“That never happened when you lived with me.”
“Yes, it did! When I went home after mum was in hospital, she’d found animals in the treehouse! I don’t know when I would have … I was with you the whole time, but they were fresh, and I-I?—”
