Invincible

forty-eight

     There were almost two weeks of holiday before they left for France on the 22nd, and nothing much happened in them except for one day when Willa went round to Jared’s and his mum walked in on them making out on the sofa. Willa handled it admirably, pulling down her top and saying, standing up,

    “Hi, Ms Newman. Er- I’m Willa. Jared’s girlfriend.”

     Jared watched his mum stare at her for some moments, knowing she was somewhat mollified by the fact Willa had called her Ms Newman (as Jared had warned her to, on the off-chance they ever met), rather than Mrs Spencer.

    “I should hope so,” said Mum at last.

     He almost died of mortification. Isaac almost died laughing the next day, when Jared told him the story over Spanish revision and pringles.

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    Jared hadn’t been back in Isaac’s house since that time with his old friends, and Isaac seemed to prefer it that way. Instead they met at Jared’s, and talked until one day as if Isaac’s family (except Rosie) didn’t exist. Rosie was in fact also away for Christmas, in Scotland with her boyfriend.

    “Even if she wasn’t, she’s banned from the house,” Isaac said lazily, tipped back with his head upside down off the end of Jared’s bed. Jared turned from where he was sat at his desk.

   “Why?” he asked, because he’d found with Isaac that direct questions were the only way to possibly get answers- and also because tact wasn’t really in Jared’s arsenal of virtues. Isaac shrugged.

    “She just wasn’t good enough for them. As in, she swore sometimes and rebelled and talked back and she wouldn’t go to church. She got this hideous tattoo of a bow and arrow on her foot that, like, makes me laugh every time I think about it and which I’m never going to let go.” He grinned, and then his face sobered again. “And then this one time Dad caught her with a boy and he tried to keep it from Mam, cos like, he knew she’d flip. Except” – he shook his head, almost fond – “he can’t keep a secret to save his life. And Mam got suspicious, so she forced it out of him and then turned on Rosie saying not only was she super sinful and all that but she was also breaking up the family with her sin.”

    “Fuck, Isaac,” said Jared, because he hadn’t really expected him to answer properly. Isaac smiled weakly, resignedly.

    “Yeah.”

    Jared folded his arms over the back of his chair, wondering how much further it was okay for him to pry, and also wondering somewhere in the back of his head why he wanted to know so much.

    “Your dad’s alright then?”

    Isaac rolled over onto his stomach, rested his chin on his forearms.

    “Yeah, he’s alright. I mean, it’s not that Mam- she loves us all, even Rosie. It’s just hard for her. We didn’t really turn out how she wanted.”

     I think you turned out fine, thought Jared warmly, and made some sort of grunting noise to show he was listening. Isaac was looking straight at him, gaze oddly intense, and then his eyes slipped to the wall and he added, almost defiant-

    “She’s been depressed on and off for as long as I can remember, but she won’t take anything. Or go to a counsellor or- anything like that. It’s her cross to bear, she says. Our- cross. She takes sleeping pills, because otherwise she’d never sleep and probably collapse while trying to reform convicts- she works at the prison, I’m not sure I’ve told you that. But- yeah.”

    He trailed away.

    “Fuck,” said Jared again, because apparently he’d reverted to some sort of caveman incapable of stringing together any sort of fucking sentence, let alone the comforting one he wanted to. A wave of self-loathing swept through him as he sat just staring at Isaac, because here was someone he actually cared about exposing his secrets and he so badly wanted to make it better, wanted to show Isaac that he cared- but all he could do, apparently, was mutter one-word expletives. “Isaac, you know-“ he tried again, swallowing. “Do you want a cup of tea?”

     And anyone else might not have recognised it for what it was (namely, Jared’s frankly pathetic attempt at offering comfort), but Isaac gave him a small smile and uncurled himself, sitting up and rubbing the back of his neck.

    “Yeah. That’d be good. Thanks J.”