Tybalt and Juliet

Author's Notes:

All characters are at least 18 years old, except where stated otherwise.

It's the second half of August. Jake, Amy and their schoolmates are preparing to go to university in September or October. In this chapter, Jake mentions GCSEs, which are exams taken by 16-year-olds in England.

Thanks for reading and please do leave feedback.

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Saturday after A level results day - well, that could only mean one thing - another party at James' house.

I sat on the edge of the pool with my legs hanging over the side, watching my friends enjoying themselves. I'd covered my scar with a bandage to stop it getting sunburned, but the doctor had forbidden me from getting my arm wet, so I was relegated to the role of observer.

Amy, however, was not holding back. I'd been trying to hide a semi, ever since she'd changed into her swimming gear. She was wearing a red halter-neck bikini, which showed off the gentle swell of her breasts and the graceful curve of her neck. Her muscles were toned after a summer of horse riding and her figure was striking. True, my girlfriend didn't have Becky's washboard stomach, but she was certainly giving her a good run for her money. I have to admit feeling a few twinges of possessive jealousy as the two of them turned heads.

But it was her personality that had changed most dramatically. Scarcely three days earlier, Amy had been firmly in the grip of anxious despondency. She'd convinced herself that she was going to miss the grades that she needed for university. Now, all the pressure had been released - she'd thrown off the weight on her shoulders and more. No one at our school had ever come in the top three nationwide in an exam, no one - ever. That was an achievement that not even her Cambridge-bound boyfriend could outshine. Amy was letting her hair down for the first time in six weeks, maybe the first time in her life, and was absolutely unafraid to show it.

Eventually I became too hot and beat a retreat to the shade by the house.

Stijn flopped down on the chair next to mine. "Not drinking?" he said, indicating the glass of water in my hand.

"Nah," I said, "still off alcohol - waiting for my final scan on Monday. I couldn't even have a sip of champagne on Thursday night!"

Stijn looked across to the pool, where Amy (on Lauren's shoulders) was shrieking with laughter as she wrestled Becky (on James').

"I can't believe that's Amy Norton," he said. "What have you done to her?"

"Nowt to do with me," I replied, "it's those horses at the Stables. Her sense of balance is so good, she can stay on anyone's shoulders, even Danny's."

"Bet she rides really well," he quipped, nudging my good arm.

"That's for me to know and you never to find out," I bantered back. I hoped I would find out, but a small part of me wasn't sure I would.

We were quiet for a bit, a silence that stretched to become awkward. I could sense that Stijn wanted to talk, but didn't know what to say or how to say it.

"How are things with you and Rachel?" I asked.

He paused, as if considering whether to brush me off with a wise crack or glib comment. "Actually Jake, it's not so good," he said.

I nodded thoughtfully and encouragingly, but inside I was a little shocked. Rachel and Stijn were the first boy and girl at school to have got together. They were the perfect couple and they were going to get married - everyone knew that.

"It's over three years now," he said slowly, "and, well, it's great, but also... also something's missing."

"Missing?" I echoed gently.

"You know, I was watching the two of you earlier - you and Amy," he continued, "I think it's the first time I've properly seen the two of you together - as a couple I mean. You're so in love with each other, it's really amazing to see. After everything the two of you have gone through, it's, it's just incredible."

He paused. "And then I thought, well Rachel and I used to be like that, but maybe now the spark isn't just fading, maybe it's been gone for a while.

"Don't get me wrong," he continued, "we get on really well, and it's great fun to be with her and the sex is awesome, but sometimes, sometimes I wonder if we're really fully connecting, deep down. I don't know if Rachel's a fuckbuddy who I like to hang out with, or if she's actually my girlfriend."

He paused, thinking. It was clear he didn't want me to interrupt.

"You know, I'm looking around, we're about to go to uni and I'm wondering if I should get to know someone else. I don't know what I'm missing, if I'm missing it."

He paused again, as if disappointed in himself.

"I'm sorry, that sounds awful doesn't it. I feel like such a disloyal shit." He looked downwards, a little ashamed.

"No, that doesn't sound awful," I said. "Everyone has doubts in a relationship, it's normal."

"We don't really talk," he continued, "not properly. I mean we say that we love each other, but if one of us had a problem, would we trust each other enough deep down to be completely open, completely honest?"

I nodded. For much of the summer, I'd felt the same way about Amy. It wasn't until about three weeks after the attack that we'd been able to talk about it, but not in any particularly deep or meaningful way. Even now, the pressure of the police investigation was still a strain, but our exam results had arrived just in time to be a giant sticking plaster. Amy was enjoying herself that afternoon, but underneath the issues hadn't gone away. She was still having the counselling.

"You know, I look at you and Amy," he said, "and you've had such an awful experience, but the two of you have supported each other through it so well."

"Actually Stijn," I said, "I'm not sure we have."

Now it was his turn to be surprised.

"Really?" he said.

"Yeah," I said. "It's been a really hard slog since the Prom. I've had to get better and we've both had to come to terms with what happened, both as individuals and as a couple. That's been really difficult. Then there's been the police investigation - that's been really intrusive for Amy, especially with all the allegations at school. Plus all the gossip that's running around - a lot of it pretty unkind towards her.

"We were together what, two and a half months, people were only just finding out and all of a sudden we're both under more pressure than we've ever experienced before. It got so bad, Amy went to stay with her grandparents for a week, just to escape from it all."

I sighed. "It's taken a long time for us to start to talk about what happened. We've been struggling to find our way in the dark. I still don't really know if it would be better for us to be together or apart."

"Oh Jake," he said, "I'm sorry."

"We have good days and bad days. This week was tough up until Thursday morning, very tough, but now we're on a high with exam results. But who knows how long that'll last."

Stijn looked at me again. "What are you going to do?" he asked, "about you and Amy, I mean."

"I don't know," I admitted. "Part of me wants to be very selfish and just make sure that I focus on getting fully recovered by the time I go to Cambridge and not to worry about anything or anyone else. A lot of me wants to believe that Amy just needs time and space to come to terms with everything herself. Part of me wants us to really work to get through it together. And sadly, part of me believes that while the two of us are a couple, the reminders will be too strong and the only way for us to put things behind us, is to split up."

Stijn put his arm across my shoulder.

"But the worst thing," I said choking up a little, "is that I can sit here and tell you this, while we watch her splashing around having fun in the pool. But I can't say that to her myself."

"Fuck Jake, I'm sorry," Stijn said, looking a little uncomfortable. "I didn't mean to bring all that up."

"That's alright," I replied. "Everyone thinks the same way - my final hospital appointment is on Monday and I should get the all clear to drive - so then I'm fully recovered. But I'm not, it's all the mental stuff that takes longer to heal. It's the same for Amy, she wasn't physically injured, but she's been having counselling to get over the trauma too. She's had it worse than me - she was with me in the ambulance, when I was out cold. I hardly remember anything, but she can play the whole thing back in her mind, minute-by-minute. She won't forget Ritchie smashing me over the head with that bottle - ever - and I don't blame her."

"I'm sorry Jake, my whinging is nothing compared to what you've gone through," he said humbly.

Rachel heaved herself out of the pool and crossed the patio to us.

"Hey guys, nice bromance!" she teased, indicating Stijn's arm still across my shoulders. She slumped down in a chair next to her boyfriend.

"Well done on your grades for Cambridge, Jake," she said.

"Thanks," I replied. "And you two will be in Warwick and Birmingham - what half an hour from each other at most?"

"Yeah," Stijn said. "It'll be good to be close to each other."

I drained my glass and set it on the table in front of me.

"I'm going to go get some water. You want another one?" asked Stijn.

"Yes please," I replied, pretending not to have seen the surreptitious looks that had passed between him and his girlfriend.

Stijn stood, "back in a minute," he said.

"I'll give you a hand," said Rachel and the two of them slipped in through the patio doors into the house.

I looked at the time on my phone. Half three - they were starting early.

-

I looked across the patio from my vantage point in the shade. There was someone who I hadn't expected to see at the party, but who I really wanted to talk to. He'd been with some of the others, but now he was on his own, looking a little shifty, sending nervous glances in my direction.

I looked over to the pool. Amy was enjoying herself too much to be paying attention. I took a deep breath, stood up and walked over to him. He looked up and swallowed anxiously.

I extended my hand. He looked apprehensive, but he accepted and shook it.

"Hello Billy," I said.

"Er, hi Jake," he replied.

"Mind if I sit down?" I asked.

"No, sure," he said, shuffling nervously across a little on the bench.

"I just wanted to say thank you," I said.

"Thank you?" he squeaked in surprise.

"For what you did at the Prom," I explained.

"Please don't take the piss Jake," he said, "I fucked up, I should have stopped him, but I didn't. You got hurt bad, real bad. I'm sorry." He looked across at me with wide pleading eyes.

"I'm not taking the piss," I said. "You didn't fail anyone. I'm thanking you, from the bottom of my heart."

He looked up at me, suspicious, frightened even.

"You saw I was bleeding badly, so you took off your shirt and you made a tourniquet with it. I could have lost a lot of blood before the ambulance arrived, but I didn't because of what you did. Then you stayed and helped the police find Ritchie, before he could harm himself or anyone else."

"But anyone would have done that," he said.

"No," I said, "a lesser man would have panicked and run away."

He looked at me again, tears were starting to well up in his eyes.

"Come on," I said, "let's go for a walk."

We stood up. I put my arm on his shoulder and we walked down to the bottom of James' garden, pushing past the row of tall conifers to the scrubby area beyond - the same place where I'd found Danny paralytic on the night of the cast party, four months earlier.

We sat down on the old bench. Billy fished in his pocket for a packet of cigarettes. He lit one and drew on it nervously. He'd been fighting hard, but the dam broke and he dissolved in floods of tears.

"I'm sorry," he said, attempting to dry his eyes on his sleeve, "I'm such a pussy."

"No, you're not," I said, "not at all. You've had as much to deal with since the Prom as Amy and I have. It's hard - I know it is - things are as fresh and raw as they've ever been."

He looked up, relief in his eyes - someone understood what he'd been going through.

"I've replayed that night, every minute of it, over and over," Billy said slowly, calmer now. "I've stayed awake for so long, thinking how I could have stopped him, how I should have stopped him.

"He was so angry," he continued. "I've never seen him so angry. I tried to calm him down. I gave him more vodka - I thought that might help. But he just got worse.

"He said he was going back for you, going back to deal with you." Billy's voice was beginning to crack again. "And I didn't believe him, and then, when I realised he really was going back to hurt you, it was too late. I ran after him, but it was too late."

"Billy," I said, "I don't think you could 've done - you couldn't have stopped him. He's not well, Ritchie isn't - he's sick - all that's coming out now. He could have done far worse to one of the girls - he almost did a fortnight ago."

Billy drew on his cigarette again. "I didn't know," he said, a little sheepishly, gesturing with his hand. "I mean, I saw him smacking some of them on the arse a couple of times, but that was it." He looked up at me a little frightened. "I didn't know about the other stuff Jake, I swear. I swear I didn't."

I nodded - I believed him. Ritchie used him to deal out threats and humiliation - he was his stooge, his minion - not a friend. Pushing and shoving was the most Billy was capable of. The Head Boy would never have involved him in his predatory activities. Spiking drinks and slipping hands up skirts - those were things that Ritchie might have done with Ross - he'd never have let a snivelling lackey like Billy tag along.

Billy nodded. "He really hated you, right from the beginning. It wasn't that fucking cricket match, he was a dick to you for at least a year before that all blew up."

I nodded. "Maybe it was just because we were such different people and the things the two of us felt were important were so different. He couldn't ever understand what made me tick."

Billy paused, considering what I'd said. "You just got under his skin by being you. You didn't give a fuck about anything he did, who he was or who he wanted to be. You saw through his bullshit - we can all see it now, but you realised way back," he said ruefully.

"I think he wanted James, Stijn, Nick, Ian to be part of his club," I replied. "He couldn't understand why someone like James, who lives in a house like this, with a brilliant lawyer for a mum and a successful businessman for a dad, would want to piss around in the mud on a farm with me, Lauren and Danny! But the more Ritchie tried to prise us apart, the closer we were. He never thought he'd end up having that fight with James."

Billy took another drag on his cigarette.

"I was such a prick," he said pitifully. "I just wanted to suck up to him, I thought I was being clever. And I hated you, because you weren't scared of him or me - you just got on with being you, no matter what we did. I hated you so fucking much."

"But what you did after the Prom," I said calmly, "that wasn't hate."

"No," he replied slowly, "that wasn't."

We were quiet for a bit. He took a couple more slow draws on his cigarette.

"Do you remember - at the Prom, when we'd all just arrived and we were having our photos taken?" Billy asked. "And you saw me on my own, and you kind of grabbed me and asked if you could have a photo with me? And you said that we'd look back as old men and wonder why we'd hated each other so much?"

I nodded. He took his phone out of his pocket and found the picture. Two blond-haired, eighteen-year-old boys, in smart dress suits and black bow ties were standing together, smiling as best friends: Billy and me.

"Look at us," he gestured to the photo. "That's when it hit me, how fucking pointless it was. There were students around me, who'd be mates for the rest of their lives. And what did I have? I'd been such a cunt to everyone that no one cared about me. And Ritchie couldn't give a fuck either. Then, the one guy in the school I hated more than anyone, asks if he can have a fucking photo with me."

He buried his head in his hands. "I've been such a fucking arsehole, Jake. How could I be such a fucking fool?"

I didn't really know what to say - I certainly hadn't expected Billy to end up in floods of tears when I'd sat down next to him barely five minutes earlier. I put my arm across his shoulder again.

"If it makes you feel any better," I replied half chuckling, "I really hated you back! I think I hated you more than Ritchie, because I knew you were only doing it to suck up to him."

"Er thanks," he said sarcastically, "that really does make me feel better."

"I don't hate you now," I said. "I really don't. I mean that sincerely. That's what I wanted to tell you."

He looked up at me again, "you don't?"

"No, I bear you no ill will whatsoever. When I needed you, you were there for me and that's more than I've ever done for you - far more than I've ever done for you. That's why I wanted to thank you. That was the night the true Billy came through, the one that didn't give a flying fuck about what Ritchie or anyone else thought of him. You acted instinctively to do what was right." I paused. "You might have saved more than one life that night."

Billy looked up at me confused.

"I was out cold on the ground," I explained. "I couldn't protect Amy, he could have..."

I heard my voice trailing off. I'd never discussed that outcome with anyone, but it had kept me awake almost every night since the attack.

Billy looked alarmed as the full horror flashed through his mind. He shook his head, trying to banish the image.

"Billy," I said gently, putting my arm around him again "we all fuck up - no one's perfect - no one. Sometimes you can keep on fucking up for so long without realising. But then someone points it out, or maybe you realise - but it's not the fucking up that's important, it's how you react when you know - what you do next, how you deal with things. And that night and ever since, you've done absolutely the right thing - that's the true Billy in you. The good guy, the guy with the good heart - that's the Billy you've been hiding for so long."

He gave me a strange look, a wary look - suspicious perhaps that I might know him better than he knew himself. Maybe he just didn't believe me. He shook his head slowly again and looked away, despairing into the distance.

"Now you're off to Durham for uni, you won't know anyone up there - it's a fresh start," I continued. "It's the same for all of us - new faces, new friends - school will be a memory, no more than that. You're not going to turn a corner and find yourself bumping into Ritchie, me or any of us. You can be who you are, with no one judging you on who you were or who you wanted to be."

Billy nodded slowly. "Yes, a fresh start," he said quietly. He looked down again at the photo on his phone of the two of us. "A fresh start," he repeated.

I stayed with him at the bottom of the garden for a little longer, then he made his excuses and left to go home. I waved him off on his bike as he set off down the road.

"And the one thing Billy, I didn't tell you," I said to myself, "was the real reason Ritchie hit me with that bottle. That was the night that you stood up to him for the first time. You were the last faithful lieutenant. That was the night, when the person he'd taken for granted for the past seven years and whose loyalty he thought he could never lose, came to my aid."

-

Amy and I stayed outside as the shadows lengthened across the lawn; the others had already headed inside to get changed.

She sat sideways across my lap, her legs extended across the wooden slats of the bench.

"Is that cigarette smoke?" she said, sniffing my polo shirt.

"I was talking to Billy," I explained. "I've got another top in my bag - I'll change when we go inside."