Page 81 of The Book Swap

I cough, and begin.

“I fell into my job in what was a surprise to a lot of people, but most definitely myself,” I say, which is the only bit I know off by heart. Now I look down at my sheet. “See, I actually wanted to do something else. I wanted to write books, but the world can lead you in mysterious ways, and before you know it, you’re a partner at a corporate training company. I know...” I say, catching sight of the rolling eyes in the front row. Sweat starts to form at the back of my neck. “It doesn’t sound glamorous or exciting, but...” One of the boys I saw waiting at the front of college is directly in my eyeline. He turns to his friend and whispers something. It’s starting. The piece of paper starts shaking in my hand as I wait for it. The song they made up about me. They must have heard about it somehow. Know who I am.

“Come on,” someone shouts, and I swallow, staring back down at the words on the page, which are swimming in front of me. I can’t make them out. “Achievement.” “Success.” “Pay raise.” Everything is moving and I can feel my breath quickening. A younger Erin appears in my mind. She’s standing on this very stage reading an excerpt from The Hunger Games, as Bonnie and I watch from the audience. It’s the bit about hope being stronger than fear.

I take the deepest breath I can, in through my nose and out through my mouth, the way Helena taught me after she found me on the street. The day she taught me about Maslow’s hierarchy. At the very top of the triangle is fulfilling our own potential.

“You know what,” I say, dropping my hand which still contains my speech. “Some of you might make brilliant corporate trainers. Some of you might end up with a shit job—sorry—because you spent your entire time at college laughing at the people working hard, while you did no work at all.” I fix my eyes on the boy who was laughing. “It doesn’t really matter what it is that you end up doing, or how you get there. It just matters that you love it. That you wake up every day and cannot wait to get started.” I can see Joel standing at the very back, hands in his pockets, staring at me. “I’m not going to stand here and tell you that you have to do something that’s well paid, or well respected. If you’re good at what you do, and you work hard at it, then whatever it is, you’ll make money. You just won’t sell your soul to get there.”

Someone in the middle of the crowd laughs, and another starts clapping.

“I told you, sir,” someone shouts.

“Just...whatever it is right now that you’re thinking about doing, that thing that seems untouchable, or embarrassing or too difficult to pursue—don’t give up on that. Keep hold of it. Remember it. Get yourself a group of friends here who won’t let you forget about it. Even just one friend.” I find Joel again and nod at him, smiling. He grins back and gives a thumbs-up. “Because when the time is right, you’ll be ready. And you’ll go for it. And you’ll wish that you’d started sooner.”

Looking around the room, I can see everyone’s face on me, but it doesn’t feel the way it used to. I don’t feel small, or embarrassed, or a laughingstock. I’m just me.

“Good luck,” I say and Joel starts whooping and clapping from the back until everyone else starts to join in.

I walk to the back and watch the rest of the talks, then say my goodbyes and leave with Joel. We pass by the art block, where I witnessed the moment that led me to betray Erin. Joel squeezes me on the shoulder as we walk. Out through the front courtyard and past the hall, which was the setting for so much of my bullying. The chanting. The punching. The chewing gum. The humiliation.

Out toward where the bike racks used to be. The ones that I’d walk toward with fear pumping through my chest, every day. I just had to make it past them and start running, or jump into Elliot’s car. They’re gone now, a flower bed sitting in their place, bursting with color.

31

ERIN

The Cheese & Grain is swarming with Bravehearts and Bob the Builders, boxers and bunnies. One inflatable big boob is wandering about, with the largest, most unrealistic nipple I’ve ever seen. There’s ballerinas and brides, Batman and Baywatch, and I’m standing among them all, dressed as Bonnie.

I asked her parents to send me an outfit I remember her wearing a lot. A pink Chanel top, with a pink fur jacket and light blue jeans, topped off with gold hoop earrings and a gold Chanel belt, with white trainers. She always told me that if someone gave her back all the money she spent on clothes, she’d just use it to buy more clothes. It’s what made her feel most like herself.

The only thing missing tonight is Georgia. She stayed at Mum’s, claiming that being sober at a memorial is too depressing, even for her, and even if she has the perfect fancy dress outfit without even trying. Baby Bump has got to win extra points, for being a double b. Cassie’s come instead. She said she’s heard so much about Bonnie, she wants to get as close to meeting her as possible. She’s slicked all her hair back so it looks shorter than it is, and is wearing a pair of shorts, a white shirt and a tie. She’s come as a boy, and I know Bonnie would approve.

I direct her to the bar as I scan the room for the first two people I need to see. They’re in the corner by the stage, tearing up raffle tickets.

“Thanks for sending this,” I say, approaching Bonnie’s parents, who look up at me and smile. Her dad’s eyes glaze over as he takes me in.

“I remember that one well. I hated how much of her midriff was on show.”

“I’m hating it too, if that helps?” I reply and they both chuckle.

“I’m so sorry that I wasn’t there for her.” The words I’ve been so afraid of saying out loud, come so easily. “I wasn’t the friend Bonnie needed, and I know that.”

They exchange a look, before nodding. “We were disappointed,” her mum says, “when you stopped visiting. But we know it wasn’t just you. She was pushing you away. All of us, really.”

Biting my lip, I nod, tears filling my eyes. “I shouldn’t have let her. I should have showed up anyway.”

“We saw your mum quite a lot during that time,” Bonnie’s dad says, as I frown. She’s never mentioned it. “She had a theory about your struggles with abandonment. She told us that if we needed to blame anyone, we should blame her. But there’s no blame here, Erin. Bonnie wasn’t alone. She had people around her. Good people.”

I nod. It should have been me too and I know that, but it’s something I’ll have to live with. I’m just glad there were others who had the strength I didn’t.

“You came back too. You came back when it mattered the most.”

The three of us hug and I turn to see Cassie waving at me from a table, holding up a bottle of wine.

“Wow,” Cassie says, looking around the room. “People really make an effort.”

“You didn’t meet Bonnie, but she wouldn’t expect any less.”

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