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LATE-NIGHT PHONE CALLS

Lizzie

AUGUST 30, 2000

I WAS BITTER ABOUT A LOT OF THINGS IN LIFE, BUT TODAY’S BIGGEST REASON WAS THE fact that I should’ve been starting first year with my boyfriend and not fifth class with his sister.

I felt left behind as a child when I had been held back in specialist schools, instead of getting to attend mainstream with peers my own age. I felt it even more when my sister left this world and, now I was feeling it all over again.

Because Hugh was going on and I was staying behind.

It pissed me off so bad because some of the sixth-class students that had graduated from Sacred Heart last summer were even younger than me. Now, they got to head off to secondary school, while I remained in primary for two more years.

It was so fucking embarrassing because not only was I going to turn fourteen in sixth class, but I would be fifteen by the end of first year, while everyone else in my class would only be entering their teens.

Twelve and a half starting fifth class.

What a fucking joke .

I was older than all the sixth class, who were either eleven or had just turned twelve, and the difference was even more disparaging in my actual class.

Claire and Shannon were eleven, along with a few other boys in fifth class, while most of the other girls were still ten.

What the hell did I have in common with ten-year-olds?

I had to shave my legs and armpits regularly, while they shared no such ordeals. I had breasts, a boyfriend, and menstrual cycles, while they still played with Barbies and talked to boys on Dream Phone.

Aside from Claire and Shan, I didn’t know how to blend in with the other girls because I never felt I’d been one. I had no memories of my life before the age of three, and all my memories since were filled with doctor appointments, hospitalizations, tears, tablets, tantrums, and trauma.

In fact, I had never even owned a doll. I could remember receiving plenty of them at birthdays and Christmas, but I had either passed them on to my friends or used them for target practice when I went pellet-gun shooting with Hugh and the boys.

I couldn’t relate to the pleasure other girls got from playing dress up, and I despised the thought of twirling around in frills and bows. I wasn’t opposed to wearing dresses occasionally, but my style was worlds apart from what the stores promoted for girls my age or what my friends wore.

On top of my advanced age and physical maturity and inability to relate to my peers, the curriculum at primary school level was too easy for me. Most days, I grew more and more depressed at school because my mind was unstimulated, and I needed the stimulation to stay on track. I needed a challenge to distract me from the never-ending storm brewing inside of me.

When Hugh finally called after his first day at Tommen, I felt an immediate flush of heat.

“Hey, Liz.” When I heard his familiar voice down the line, a blanket of warmth washed over me. “Sorry I’m late calling. I had practice after school.”

“It’s fine.” I blew out a contented sigh and laid back on my pillows. All day, I hadn’t been able to concentrate, too wrapped up in thoughts of his adventures at secondary school. “How was your day?”

“Hectic,” my boyfriend chuckled. “The place is like a zoo.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s fairly wild, but I managed” came his easygoing response. “Coach held rugby trials after school, and the lads and I got called up for the school team.”

“Which lads?”

“Kav, Feely, and, uh, Gibs.”

I couldn’t describe the stabbing sensation that pierced through my breastbone when Hugh said his name. For a moment, I wasn’t sure I could breathe, but I finally managed to squeeze out the word congratulations , even though it almost killed me to do it.

“Liz.” There was a long pause down the line before he spoke. “I’m sorry, baby, but you know he’s my friend.”

Don’t be his friend , I wanted to scream, but I held back, too afraid to push away the only person I had felt was truly in my corner. “Tell me about Tommen,” I said instead, needing to change the subject before I exploded. “Who are your teachers?”

Sounding relieved, Hugh gave me a detailed rundown of his day from start to finish, while leaving out any mentions of him , which I was deeply glad of.

“Are their girls in your class?” I asked a little while later, feeling more related.

“A few,” he replied evenly.

I smirked. “Any one nice?”

“No one with the name Lizzie Young” came his teasing response. “I’m not looking at them, Liz.”

“I wouldn’t be mad if you were,” I admitted with a sigh. “I’m not exactly the easiest girlfriend.”

“I’m not looking, Liz,” he repeated, tone serious now. “You’re the only girl I’ve ever wanted, and I have zero plans of doing anything to mess that up.”