Page 39 of The Chemistry Test

I don’t know if I’m actually going to vomit or if it just feels like I am, but I’m not hanging around to find out. I don’t even wait for Ro to push my wheelchair over to me, I just stand up and get it myself, pulling it out from the gap between the wall and turning it around to face me.

I sit down and tap the SmartDrive into action, vaguely aware of Amy and Ro downing their drinks behind me. ‘You two can stay,’ I shout to them, already near the door. I can’t get out fast enough.

‘No man left behind,’ Amy says hurriedly, catching up with me.

Ro, close on our heels, falls into step with Amy. ‘What’s going on?’

‘I’ll explain when we get in,’ I say, knowing full well I can’t. At least, not properly. Not without giving too much away about CJ.

But after my less than subtle reaction, it’s not like I can keep it completely to myself – lord knows they’ll badger it out of me eventually.

I try to map out everything in my mind but keep getting confused about who said what to whom, including what I said to Amy and Ro (i.e.

both too much and barely anything). The two of them don’t even know my website exists since it’s not linked to my Instagram and I never had a good enough reason to mention it until now, so I guess that’s worked out.

But what about the other stuff? I don’t freaking know.

All I really want to do is hop on Wikipedia and look up CJ’s name.

Why the freaking heck didn’t I think to do it before?

a voice booms in my head, even though I’m pretty sure I know the answer.

Once we’re home and we’ve gone over the vaguest logistics known to man, I ask them the same question.

‘You didn’t google him because you’re a respectful person, Penny,’ Amy says, but deep down, I know that’s not it. I didn’t google him because I didn’t want to compare my life to his and scare myself away. Even from being his friend. I know what I’m like and I didn’t want to risk it.

I push the thought away as Ro takes over, already on the case. His eyes dart from left to right as he skims through all the career-related stuff. Then he stops dead and looks at me.

‘Is it him?’ I say. I need to know for sure.

‘There’s a famous Cameron James,’ he says. ‘But she’s a woman.’

My heart lifts. It’s not him.

‘Yeah, this isn’t him,’ Ro continues. ‘This is an article about a crazy-cat-lady sort of woman.’

No. My mouth falls open. It wasn’t a rumour that made him so guarded, it was a fake news story. No, no, no, no, no. Poor CJ.

Cam’s words echo in my mind. ‘If you’re wondering if this is a simple case of fragile masculinity ... I have no idea.’ No wonder he was feeling fragile, for heaven’s sake. Poor Cam.

‘It’s him. And whatever that says is not true,’ I croak, gasping for air between breaths. I need to calm down. I don’t have anything else to say as the realisation hits me.

I thought I’d been talking to two distinct – almost contrasting – people for the past two months.

Although now I think about it, even though their situations seemed completely different, they didn’t sound all that dissimilar.

The witty sense of humour, losing their grans, being on a break from work and, most of all, the way my heart sings when I speak to either one of them. It’s all the same. I can see that now.

‘What are the chances of this happening?’ I say, my breath quickening as I try to make sense of it.

Thankfully, they still haven’t questioned the details, beyond the fact that I put up a poster for an anonymous messaging service in my first week here.

‘This is so bad,’ I say, realising how severely I’ve let Cam down.

He deserved his story to be anonymous. Just like the tagline of my website promised. What the hell was I thinking?

‘If you think about it, you put the poster up here, at uni, so you always had a chance of bumping into each other,’ Amy says.

‘This isn’t your fault. He would have known that,’ she continues, as I relive the last few months from both perspectives.

The memories flash through my head as fading fragments, with each one morphing into the next before I can fully grasp them.

I start saying them out loud, desperately trying to catch and untangle them.

‘He wasn’t hiding from me at the doctors’ when those boys came in,’ I say, thinking back to the conversation we had about it before. ‘He just didn’t want them to question why he was there if they happened to be fans of his show.’

Amy’s eyes soften, as it all starts to make sense for her too.

I watch her open a can of Coke with a spoon to protect her acrylic nails, while I mull over the other stuff.

He said his gran helped him get ‘everything good in his life’ when he first told me she passed away in his messages.

Subconsciously, I start thinking aloud again, putting the pieces together.

‘CJ even mentioned his gran passing away on the plane,’ I say, feeling stupid. ‘He was so open about that, the idea he could be one of the messagers didn’t even cross my mind.’

Ro looks at me, incredulously. ‘Come on now, Penny. People’s grandparents are dropping like flies at our age – you couldn’t have known it was him just from that.’

‘Shit, Ro, that’s one way to put it,’ Amy snorts, spraying her drink everywhere and making them both giggle.

I know he’s right, but that wasn’t the only sign now I’m thinking about it. Or clue. Heck, I don’t even know what to call them. There were so many giveaways right under my nose all along.

I think back to one of our first conversations, when he said his gran helped him get his job. For some reason, I didn’t put two and two together that CJ works as well, as it really doesn’t feel like he does. Even though we’ve obviously talked about it a fair few times now.

He said he was on a break from acting and would be for a while, but of course it’s still his job, I reason with myself, now I’m thinking more rationally.

Or at least with more perspective. I turn back to Amy and Ro, since this part is practically the opposite of a secret.

Anyone could know he’s a famous actor, right?

‘When Cam told me his gran helped him get a job, I really thought he meant with a family business or something. I never would’ve guessed he meant starring in a bloody HBO show.’

Because that’s what he wanted you to think. The thought sears through my chest. I notice how I accidentally called him his online name too, rather than what I’ve always known him as in person. It feels like such a mindfuck to call them, or him, a different name now. But I’m going to have to try.

‘I know what you mean,’ Ro says, climbing on to my bed. ‘“Job” feels like too mundane of a word to describe his career.’

I told them about the acting thing back when I found out about it myself and neither of them realised he was an actor either. But Amy had, at least, heard of the show. Quite a few people our age know the name of it, even though it’s not outrageously big here.

Ro suddenly puts both ends of the bed up, folding him in half like a taco. ‘I know this is not the time for messing around,’ he splutters, trying not to laugh. ‘But this is the bed that keeps on giving,’ he says, setting Amy off as well.

The alcohol is clearly starting to take effect and now our detective work is done, I can tell the conversation is pretty much over. Amy climbs up next to Ro but turns to face me after a few seconds, as if she’s read my mind.

‘As long as you tell him, it’ll be fine,’ she says, conscious of how I’m feeling.

The thing is, it feels like I’ve got two people to apologise to.

As though I have to come out and admit it to both: Cam, who won’t want to speak to me again now I know his hidden history, and CJ, the guy it’s hard to picture my life with, but even harder to picture without.

I don’t know which one I’m dreading telling more.

Although even if I did, it wouldn’t matter. I know what I need to do.