Part Forty-SevenMature

I think about telling Daniel at first, but he seems in a good mood and I don't want to ruin it for him. I'm almost certain he'll have something to say about it, though, so I make a mental plan to tell him at some point.

It's not something I want to be thinking about all day, so instead I focus on Seb. He seems all right. Slightly better than usual, and smiling slightly, but never speaking. 

When he catches me looking at him, he mouths 'cheer up' at me, so I force a smile and he frowns. When the bell goes, he walks over to me and informs me that he's going home. He doesn't tell me exactly why, just that there's something he needs to do. 

"Tell me what's worrying you when you get home, all right?" He asks, tilting my face upwards so he can see me.

"Yeah, OK..." I say, and grab his arm as he turns to go. "Seb, don't... try anything."

He stares at me for a second. "No, I won't. I won't."


The smell of alcohol greets me when I open the door. Naturally, my first assumption is that my mother is up, so I prepare to be shouted at for some reason or another.

There's no-one upstairs. My mother is still in bed, which confuses me. No-one else drinks in the house.

"Seb?" I call out as I walk down the stairs. "Nannie?"

Seb is sat in the middle of the front room. Several beer cans surround him, and there is a knife pressed against the skin of his forearm. 

He looks up upon hearing my footfalls. "Oh. Lola. I didn't think you'd be back..."

I sit beside him and take the knife, which he lets go of willingly.

"You're drunk..." I observe casually, the tone of my voice hinting for an explanation.

"Well, yes," he says, nodding. "D'you think I could do this sober?"

We stare at each other for a minute or so and then he sighs, sounding defeated. 


I haven't... really... tried anything, you know." Now his voice is shaking very slightly and he looks guilty. "But it's getting harder not to though... I'm tired... I need to talk to you, will you come upstairs?"

I nod and he leaves.

The End

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