Becoming Edward Read online

  He let the board reach the bottom and then dug in hard to get it to turn. As he did he realised the board was travelling faster than he thought. When he tried to make the turn he wasn’t leaning over far enough and the board slipped from under his feet. Lewis fell and his body was pulled up the face of the wave. Then it slammed him down savagely like an American wrestler.

  His body hit the seabed hard and knocked all the wind out of him. He needed air fast. He had to get above water quickly. Lewis felt the rocks beneath his feet and pushed with his legs so that he shot up to the surface. Finally he broke into daylight and took a massive gulp of air. He breathed heavily a few times but he was okay, apart from a few bruises.

  He glanced around to see where his board had gone. It was then that he saw it fly towards him, carried by the next wave. He turned to move out of the way but he was too late and it caught him just above his right ear.

  *

  Lewis had been waiting for nearly two hours with a yellow towel pressed to the side of his head, a patch of blood was slowly turning it red. He was in Accident & Emergency, probably one of the most miserable places on earth. Rows and rows of plastic orange chairs were filled with people who didn’t want to be there. This collective emotion hung over the room, stifling it of any hope. There were people of all ages and each one had the same tired look of despair.

  A mixture of muffled moans, whimpers and whines filled the air. If hell had an airport, this is what the departure lounge would be like. Each person’s eyes were fixed on the double swing doors where the nurses kept coming in and out. Everyone was hoping that the next name to be called would be theirs. To make matters worse, time slowed in this pitiful place. Lewis watched as the clock painfully dispensed lethargic seconds into the air. Seconds that he would never get back.

  Seth sat beside him looking at a magazine. He was in a mood. Lewis could tell this because he wasn’t saying anything. Lewis’ little accident had cut short Seth’s surf session and he wasn’t happy. Seth had feigned concern over the gash on the side of Lewis’ head. He had told him not to worry, to just sit tight and we’ll get you to hospital. Lewis didn’t realise that by this, Seth meant after he’d finished surfing. He had no qualms about letting Lewis sit in the van with blood jetting out of his head, like a victim in a cheap martial arts film, while Seth carried on catching perfect tubes.

  Before Lewis could protest, a couple of concerned surfers had suggested putting the towel against Lewis’ head and getting him to the hospital immediately. Seth couldn’t really argue with that. There was no way he could justify leaving Lewis in the car park in front of them. Word would get around about what a dick Seth had been and then no-one would want to hang around with him, especially not Lewis. Seth resigned himself to the fact he had to take Lewis to hospital, but it was still for completely selfish reasons. He didn’t want to lose face.

  A nurse with hair pulled back tight enough to give her a headache emerged through the double doors. She had small alert eyes which darted from her clipboard to all the vacant faces around the room.

  ‘Lewis Mead,’ she said.

  Lewis could feel the jealousy radiating off everyone waiting around him as he finally walked towards the hallowed double doors. The nurse led him to a cubicle and asked him to sit on the bed. She took the towel away from his head.

  ‘Ouch. How did that happen?’ she asked.

  ‘A surfboard hit me on the head,’ replied Lewis.

  ‘Who’s was it?’

  ‘My own.’

  ‘Oh, so you can’t even sue. Never mind, we’ll clean it and get you sewn up. The good news is it’s not deep so it won’t take long to heal. The bad news is I’m going to have to cut this lovely hair of yours,’ she said producing a pair of scissors.

  ‘It’s OK, I needed a haircut anyway,’ Lewis said, making a feeble attempt at a joke. The nurse didn’t laugh.

  ‘Well, I’m afraid this one’s going to be rather lopsided.’

  Lewis watched as his hair, still damp with seawater and blood dropped onto the hospital floor. After cleaning the wound with a solution that smelt strong enough to strip paint, the nurse began to stitch his head up.

  Though he’d had some anaesthetic, he could still feel the needle going into the side of his head like a bee sting. Every time the nurse pulled the stitch tight he felt the skin being lifted up away from his skull. Perversely, Lewis quite enjoyed the sensation. He liked being fussed over by the nurse, plus the pain of being stitched was blocking thoughts of Rachel. He knew it wouldn’t last but it gave him a short respite.

  ‘All done,’ said the nurse.

  ‘Thanks. Am I watertight now?’

  ‘Afraid not. You won’t be able to get that wet for a good three weeks. After about two weeks, go and see the nurse at your local doctor’s and she’ll take the stitches out. You’ve got five of them in there if you want to show off to your friends. Remember, don’t get it wet or it won’t heal. You can wash your hair on the other side but make sure this side stays dry.’

  ‘Thank you,’ he replied.

  Seth dropped Lewis off at home but he didn’t hang around. He was heading back to Kimmeridge to finish off his surf session. Lewis didn’t really care; he knew what Seth was like. He opened his front door, went straight into the bathroom and looked in the mirror.

  Lewis looked a mess. Especially as he now had two haircuts. One side was short and stuck out, while the other was long and straggly like rat’s tails. He turned his head to look at the damage. Above his right ear was a wound that looked as if he’d been kicked in the head by a miniature horse. It was shaped like a ‘u’ and formed a line of thick dried blood that was more purple than red. Lewis groaned. It wasn’t the best day of his life. He had been hit twice today - once in the heart by Rachel and once in the head by his surfboard. Maybe someone was trying to tell him something. What that was, he couldn’t figure out.

  As he walked from the hall into the lounge, Olivia caught sight of him.

  ‘Lewis, what happened?’

  ‘My board hit me on the head.’ Lewis knew this was a story he would have to keep repeating. He was sick of it already.

  Olivia took his head gently in her hands and kissed him on the forehead. Lewis felt sorry for himself. The whole of the day’s events and the previous weeks’ had started to catch up on him. A small tear bubbled up from each of his eyes.

  Olivia gave him a hug.

  ‘Don’t worry, bro. It’ll be okay. Scars heal, plus it’s in your hair, so once it grows back you won’t see it.’

  ‘No, no, it’s not that I’m worried about.’

  ‘What is it then?’

  ‘It’s stupid. You don’t want to hear about it.’

  ‘Yes I do. Come on speak to me.’

  ‘Aren’t you still pissed off at me for what happened at the party?’

  ‘Oh forget it. It was a bit of drama. And you know how much of a drama queen I am.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘You’re not supposed to agree with me. You’re supposed say, no of course you aren’t.’ Olivia laughed and managed to make Lewis smile through his bloodshot eyes. They sat down on the big leather sofas.

  ‘I’m such a wuss,’ said Lewis.

  ‘Lewis, you’re not a wuss,’ said Olivia, putting her arm around him. ‘It’s good for a bloke to show his emotions. It means you’re human that’s all. Come on, what’s bothering you, apart from looking like the Terminator?’

  ‘Hey, shut up.’

  ‘I’m joking. Don’t be so sensitive.’

  ‘Well, do you remember that girl, Rachel?’

  ‘The one who bought me the Twilight box set? She was cute.’

  ‘I asked her out this morning and she said no.’

  ‘Really? Well, that’s a first. Must be a new experience for you.’

  ‘Yeah it is. But it’s just that I really like her. Properly like her. Not like all the other girls I’ve been with. I didn’t really care about them, you know. Now I’ve met someone I really like, I
can’t seem to have her.’

  ‘Can I be honest for a second?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘The trouble with you and me is - we’re spoilt,’ Olivia said.

  Lewis wanted sympathy not honesty. The truth hurt. Everything seemed to hurt at the moment.

  ‘It’s not like that. I told you…’

  ‘No, just listen to me for a second,’ said Olivia. ‘Whether you like it or not, we both get everything we want. If I see a handbag or dress or some jewellery that I like, Dad buys it for me.’

  ‘But I’m not into material things.’

  ‘I know. But you’re the same with girls. If you see one you like you go straight up to her and get her. You never have to make any effort whatsoever. You’re used to getting girls instantly. If you really like Rachel you’re going to have to work for it.’

  ‘But she said she didn’t want to go out with me.’

  ‘I’d take that with a pinch of salt. Believe me, girls like Rachel don’t always say yes immediately. I know I don’t. I prefer to get to know the person a bit better before I start going out with them. You have to take things slower. Be her friend first and earn her trust. Then you can think about asking her out.’

  ‘But I don’t know where to begin I’ve never done this before.’

  ‘Well, what’s she like?’

  ‘I don’t really know.’

  ‘See, there you go. You don’t even know her.’

  ‘I know she likes Twilight.’

  ‘That’s a start. Why don’t you read the books? At least next time you see her you’ll have something in common, something to talk about.’

  ‘Good idea.’

  ‘Wait there a second.’

  Olivia disappeared and returned with Twilight. She handed it to her brother.

  ‘I finished it the other day and I’m totally in to the next one. I’ll make us a cup of tea and you can start reading – you’ll love it, I swear.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Lewis took the book and held it like it was a strange contraption that he didn’t know how to work. He hadn’t read a book since he was at school and that was only because he was forced to. He lifted the cover and found the first page. He read slowly at first, ensuring he understood everything that was happening, but then he began to pick up the pace. After the first few pages, he couldn’t put it down.

  Chapter 10

  *

  Monday morning felt different. Something had changed within Clive, and it was this shift which was making the world outside seem slightly altered. He’d had a whole weekend to chew over what had happened with Rachel. In truth, nothing had really happened - it was all in Clive’s head.

  In his mind a great big drama had taken place, where she’d made her feelings clear, dropping massive hints to make him to back off. In reality, Clive had simply been over sensitive when Rachel had rushed out of the store. He’d read too much into it and created a phantom rejection. He’d spent the last two nights tossing, turning and agonising over the fact it was never going to happen. This was a process he regularly went through. Almost on a weekly basis Clive would go through a cycle of she-loves-me-she-loves-me-not. However, this time it was more final. Every time he’d felt like this in the past there was always a glimmer of hope that it could still happen, but today that glimmer had been erased for good.

  As he was getting ready for school, the usual jumble of frayed-out feelings clogged his weary mind. But today there was something new, and it made the world seem a little bit different. It was so imperceptible that Clive couldn’t tell what it was. In time he would recognise it as a feeling of release.

  Clive had held a torch for Rachel for so long that it had made him physically ache. Now that he had come to his senses and convinced himself it wasn’t going to happen, a tiny liberation was happening. Clive was a spaceship that had been in orbit around a star called Rachel and now he was slowly breaking free of her gravitational pull.

  He made it to the school gates in plenty of time. By now his nerves would usually be going hyperactive at the thought of seeing Rachel. The jitters were still there, but that’s all they were – just jitters. The real test would be when he sat down behind her. As he reached his English class he braced himself for impact. He could see her chattering away to Cassie. Clive swallowed hard and felt his heart rate increase, then bizarrely it levelled off. It was still pounding away but it was nowhere near the cardiac arrest that usually happened.

  Clive sat down. Rachel hadn’t said hello to him and that was what he’d expected. Rachel was obviously still pursuing her campaign of not giving him the wrong idea. Mentally, Clive shrugged his shoulders. He almost wanted to reach out to her and say, look it’s okay I understand and I’m over it. You can drop the act and we can just be friends.

  Suddenly Cassie swung her chair around, making it screech on the floor.

  ‘Clive, Rachel’s been telling me all about your story. She says it’s brilliant. Can I read it?’

  ‘What?’ Clive replied.

  Rachel joined the conversation. ‘Oh sorry, Clive,’ she said, ‘I hope you don’t mind me telling Cassie about it. I read it over the weekend and I love it.’

  The Spaceship Clive suddenly put all its shields up and went to red alert. What the hell was going on? Just forty eight hours ago, Rachel could hardly be bothered enough to raise a hand to wave at him. Now she was gushing about his story like nothing had happened.

  Clive’s previously fragile logic was collapsing around him. This wasn’t fair. She was changing the rules, moving the goalposts, and that was when it hit him. She was playing games. He’d heard girls did this. They toyed with boys’ hearts for fun. Teasing their emotions and then backing off only to come back and tickle them again until they didn’t know which way was up. She wasn’t really interested - she was just having a laugh at his expense.

  Clive’s common sense was trying to shout at him. This was Rachel, not some flaky girl. Rachel would never play games, it wasn’t like her, she hated crap like that. But Clive couldn’t hear his common sense above all the noise his paranoia was making. After spending all weekend rationalising the situation, this new information was capsizing his mind. He stared at Cassie and Rachel. A deep crease began to form between his eyebrows. He hadn’t had much sleep and the dark crescent moons under his eyes made him look slightly barmy.

  ‘I was just saying, it’s great,’ Rachel repeated.

  ‘Could I have it back please,’ Clive said in a cold robotic voice. He couldn’t think of any response so he just said something for the sake of saying something.

  ‘Yes, of course.’ Rachel handed him back the story. Clive took it and put it in his bag. ‘Clive, are you mad at me for telling Cassie about your story?’

  Clive wasn’t really, but that would do. He had to vent all this mental sewage that had built up and Rachel had just given him an outlet.

  ‘Yes I am. That story was something personal. It was meant for you only. Do you understand how hard I worked on it? I stayed up all weekend to finish it. I wrote it for you. I knew you were unhappy and I thought I’d write it to cheer you up. You never even said thank you. You never said anything. You didn’t even read it and then you ignored me all week, and now you’re all “Oh it’s great”. Well it’s a bit late now.’

  The trouble with flushing all the rubbish out of your mind is that the truth comes flying out too - well, most of it.

  ‘I’m sorry, Clive,’ Rachel said. ‘I didn’t realise. I thought it was just something you wanted me to read so I could tell you what I thought. Like a school essay or something.’

  ‘Well it wasn’t,’ Clive said. ‘The trouble with you, Rachel, is you think that everything revolves around you.’

  Rachel’s face was beginning to turn red, partly through anger and partly because she felt upset at hurting Clive.

  ‘No I don’t.’

  ‘Yes you do.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘You’re always going on about all this ‘finding your Edward’ nonsense, as
if you’re someone special and better than the rest of us. As if you’re the only person in the world that wants to be in love. What about Cassie finding her Edward? What about me finding my Bella? You never think about anyone else, do you?’

  ‘I’m not looking for an Edward,’ said Cassie. ‘I’m more of a Wolverine-type of girl.’

  ‘Oh shut up, Cassie,’ Clive replied. He stood up, put his coat on and stormed out of the class.

  ‘Clive, where do you think you’re going?’ demanded Mrs Edmunds, their English teacher.

  ‘I’m going home. Something’s made me feel sick,’ he shouted, loud enough for Rachel to hear.