Zelah Green by Vanessa Curtis Read Free Book Online Page B

‘Everyone says that. Nobody thinks that they’ve got anything wrong at all. Blah blah blah.’
    I draw myself up until I am sitting, straight, rigid.
    ‘I’m quite happy,’ I say. ‘I don’t need to be here.’
    Caro raises her dark eyebrows at me, amused.
    ‘You’ve got serious issues, man,’ she says.
    That’s rich, coming from a girl whose arms look like pink Shredded Wheat
.
    As she’s being so blunt with me, I decide to be blunt back.
    ‘Why were you screaming on the night I arrived?’ I say.
    Caro becomes very interested in picking out bits of dirt from behind her fingernails.
Dirt Alert
. I shift away from her, trying to track where it ends up.
    ‘Josh took away my sketchbook,’ she says. ‘They’re always encouraging me to express myself, but then they don’t like what I draw. Can’t win.’
    ‘Can I see your sketches?’ I say, surprising myself.
    She fiddles with the frayed edges of her khaki top.
    ‘Erm, maybe later,’ she says. ‘It’s kind of personal.’
    ‘OK,’ I say. My tears have dried to a crispy fug on my cheeks.
    ‘I designed these,’ says Caro, holding out her fingernails for me to inspect.
    We exchange miniscule smiles. Well, mine’s a smile. Caro’s is more like a cheek-twitch, as if she’s shrugging off a persistent moth.
    She stands up to leave.
    ‘Can I ask a favour?’ I say.
    ‘Well, I suppose I owe you one for not telling the Doc about me,’ she says. ‘Shoot.’
    ‘Could you keep the Marilyn Manson down a bit?’
    Caro turns to me with a glower.
    ‘Can’t do that,’ she says. ‘Manson is my number one therapy.’
    ‘Sounds like a mess to me,’ I say.
    ‘Naah,’ says Caro.
    She jumps up and heads for the door. She stops in the doorway and without turning round says, ‘His lyrics are all about people who don’t fit in.’
    Two days later and there’s still no word from Fran.
    There’s a new face at the supper table.
    A boy is sitting opposite me, shovelling up spaghetti and gulping it down without lifting his head.
    Josh is leaning back in his chair with a lazy smile on his features, sipping beer from a bottle. He always looks as if he’s either just got out of bed or is longing to get back into it. I wonder if there’s ever an hour in the day when his eyes open to their full capacity and he walks with purpose. I’ve only ever seen him slope about in his sandals, yawning and bestowing his kindly smile upon us.
    The Doc is eating with her elbows propped up on the table and her gold bangles slithering down her brown arm. She has her beady eyes fixed upon the boy.
    ‘Sol,’ she says. ‘This is Zelah. Say hello.’
    Lib, sitting to my right, sniggers at this and becomes the victim of one of the Doc’s frowns.
    ‘Sorry,’ she says. ‘It’s just, well, you know.’
    I concentrate on winding strings of pasta round my fork. I wish that Caro was here but she’s still confined to her room.
    Sol lifts his head and gives me a brief glance and a nod. His eyes are unsmiling, dark brown with huge pupils. His head is shaved to a black shadow and his skin is about fifteen shades darker than my own pasty variety.
    The Doc is refilling glasses with wine, beer and juice.
    ‘Sol doesn’t always feel like talking,’ she says. ‘But that’s fine.’
    ‘And Lib more than makes up for it,’ says Alice, who is huddled over a small portion of food with her thin wings of hair dipping on to the table.
    I’m still looking at Sol. He has the most beautiful face I’ve ever seen. I can’t imagine now how I thought that Josh was so good-looking. Next to Sol he’s just an old bearded guy in silly shorts.
    ‘Omigod,’ says Lib. ‘I think our Princess has got a crush.’
    I flush and become very interested in my empty plate.
    ‘Don’t tease,’ says the Doc. She passes a small pot of yoghurt to Alice. Alice scrapes her chair back and glides out of the kitchen.
    She slips the pot into the swing-bin on the way out.
    Lib rolls her eyes and shakes her head.
    Sol