I Don’t Cry

“Here,” I say, dealing out the weed. We stand in a huddle in the corner of the field next to the bushes. The street lights flicker as I glance around us, stuffing my earnings into my coat pocket. 

We nod and I slide away like a shadow, as if I was never there. 

Yells of drunken fury and curses of the vilest sort meet my ears as a mother welcomes her daughter home.

“Elena! Where were you?” She slaps her hard across the cheek, leaving a red splotch on the side of her face. I ignore the swear words in between her mum’s breaths and pass Lenny, giving her a sympathetic glance. She ignores me and steps into her flat. The door slams shut and screams erupt from every member of the family inside their tiny apartment.

Lenny’s parents pay so much attention to her, she says she wishes they were like mine where they ignore me and leave me be. Actually it’s as though I don’t exist and if they need something then they realise they can use me for it. But I want attention, I want people to get upset when I run away for a few days and come back ruffed up. 

I walk down the hall away from Lenny’s place and push open the door to number 34. No one ever locks it because we can only afford one key, it’s too expensive for another and we haven’t got anything anyone would bother stealing. 

The TV blares, the only light is a white glow from the screen, casting shadows around the room. 

Dad is passed out on the sofa, his hand and leg are both dangling over the side and his snores grow louder as I turn the TV off. We can’t pay the bill for all the electricity that keeps being used, I wish he’d do something else while drinking, maybe read? But that’ll never happen; and anyway we only have one book and it’s disappeared somewhere. 

I move his arm and leg back on the sofa and a beer can falls from his chest, landing in the pile on the floor and making all the other cans fall over like dominoes. The crashing and rattling makes me wince as I walk through the sea of cans away from Dad. But he’s so unconscious he doesn’t notice. 

Mum is out with another of her boyfriends, she gets a new man every month, though she insists this guy is serious about her. I’m guessing she’ll be dumped tomorrow or maybe the day after. 

I don’t change because these are one of my only three outfits and my pyjamas are too small for me, I’ve got the same ones from when I was 7. It’s cold and I only have a skinny blanket so I don’t sleep in my underwear, instead I stay in my clothes. My old trainers fall to the floor as I kick them off my feet, they roll over revealing their muddy souls. 

I go to the store room I use as my bedroom and slump down on what is supposed to be a bed. It squeaks and creaks as I roll over and glare at the yellowing wall, a fierce expression on my face because I don’t cry. 

Lenny walks to school with me today, a rinsed away bruise on her cheek. She’s still wearing the same clothes she came back home in, this morning I’m guessing she’d sprayed it down with febreeze, making it smell quite fresh. The spray is pretty useful – I used it too.

“You’re skipping again?” Lenny asks cautiously so no one hears as the bell rings, dismissing us from the lesson. I come for form time and registration, learn some stuff so I’m not stupid and go sell drugs from trustworthy suppliers to regular clients for a bit of pocket money. I’ve never used them myself though. 

I’m saving up for a pair of trousers, a jumper and shoes that should last me a while. I found them hanging in the sale window in a charity shop, they’re supposed to be really cheap but seventeen pounds is way more than I can afford. And the bills have to be paid too. I’m going to have to find a way to get more money.

“Yeah, I’ve got work,” I smile and I’m not sure if it’s real or fake. I put my hand over my bag and she nods. I look up questioningly, “Wanna come?” 

“Nah, I’m not allowed out and my parents would flip if I did. I mean, I don’t even know if they could get any more nutty…” 

“‘kay,” We say our goodbyes and I slip past the teachers. 

Today I have bigger plans.

***

They saw her, she knows they saw her.

My breath hitches as I spy a face in the window when I turn around. I blink and it disappears.

The girl stuffs a black bag under her arm and runs round a corner, her eyes darting in every direction.  

I can’t help myself so I follow her. She rushes through bustling streets and dark alleyways until the sun begins to set. My parents are going to kill me, I should be home right now. 

I start to pant and my legs begin to ache from all the walking. The girl seems to have known the whole time that I’ve been following her. She keeps trying to lose me but I’m good at this sort of stuff. 

The siren of a police car grows louder and it passes us, she ducks to the side and looks startled. I can tell she’s breathing heavily. Her legs buckle and she slides down the wall in an alley, sitting on the cold, wet stones in between some bins. 

I walk up to her and she doesn’t flinch.

“Why were you following me?” She asks but doesn’t look up. I stop and stand two meters away from her.

“The bag,” I start and she pulls it closer to her, “There’s something inside of there that doesn’t belong to you, isn’t there?”

“What if there is? It’s not like it affects you,” She says, looking up at me. I feel a pang of recognition. Do I know this girl? I search her face from her big brown eyes to light, dirty blonde hair for some sort of clue.

“You’re right, it doesn’t affect me but it does affect those people you stole from,” I take a step closer and she stands up. I can tell she doesn’t want to give back what she took and she’s not going to let me take it from her.

I decide to ask her, “What’s your name? I think I know you.”

“You don’t.”

I watch as she turns her back on me and runs to the blocked end of the alley. I’m about to shout out that she can’t go there because it’s closed when suddenly she slings the bag over her shoulder, then runs faster and leaps into the air. She puts a hand on the top of the wall and vaults over it. I stand there gaping like a fish. I’m so surprised, and impressed. So she could’ve lost me all the other times. But why didn’t she?   

And then it hits me. It’s like a wave, a tsunami even. 

She’s the girl from number 34.

***

“So you stole again, didn’t you?” Lenny comes up to me as I wait for her at the school gates. She points at my bag.

“I had to, I need to pay the bills. You of all people should understand,” I put a hand on my hip, grinning. 

“Yes, but remember that time when I followed you and you vaulted over the wall?” Lenny tries not to smile but I can always see through her serious face.

“Yeah I know, after that when we became friends you told me not to steal again, that dealing drugs is bad enough,” I roll my eyes, “But you know I never get caught.”

“It’s wrong. Stop it, please,” For the first time, her expression is actually serious. Concern lines her face as she squints at me through the sudden shine of sun. 

“Elena,” I use her non-abbreviated name, which gives me her full attention, “I know, but I don’t want to have to move away,” I scrunch up my face really hard. The tears are trying to force their way out. I rub my eyes raw, because I don’t cry.