Cooper Bartholomew Is Dead

  Fucking Cooper.

  His whole life he’d been plagued with confusing and conflicting feelings about his so-called best friend.

  Admiration. Resentment. Envy. Lust. He couldn’t get it straight in his head. He didn’t know whether his friendship with Cooper was defined more by joy or misery, anger or goodwill. By love or hate.

  35

  CLAiRE

  Cooper Bartholomew and Libby Lawson. Claire found it hard to accept that they really were an item. It was as though the universe had conspired deliberately and spitefully to make her very worst nightmare come true.

  Libby was the kind of prissy, uptight girl that made Claire want to go and flirt with every boy in the room just because she could. To show that cleverness and restraint were vastly overrated qualities. There were more important things – like knowing how to have fun, knowing how to enjoy a party, how to actually be the party.

  The most depressing thing was that Cooper obviously liked Libby. Any idiot could see that. Claire had held this tiny dumb hope that he was just using Libby to get at her, make her jealous, but she should have known better. Cooper didn’t play games like that.

  It was horrible seeing them together, but it was even worse when they left. At least while they were there she knew what they were up to. Once they’d gone she could only imagine what they might be doing, and her imagination had always been pretty vivid. She wanted to scream at the unfairness of it all. Instead, she went back inside and got Sebastian to mix up some more margaritas. She perched at the bar and drank the whole jug.

  Before long she found herself crying. Claire never cried in public, but to her dismay she couldn’t hold back the tears. A few people came up and asked if she was okay, but Sebastian told them to leave her alone. Nobody really cared anyway. They just wanted the gossip, the juicy story behind the tears.

  She knew what people thought of her – that she was heartless and cold, that she had fewer feelings than a toothpick. But she was made of flesh and blood just like everyone else. Normally she was better at hiding stuff, that’s all, better at pretending.

  She might have been good at hiding her emotions, but she was even better at stuffing things up. And the biggest stuff-up of all had been the night she’d lost Cooper.

  She’d been at Seb’s, at a party just like this one. Cooper was supposed to have come, but he’d backed out at the last minute. He’d had a headache, wanted to stay home. He asked her to go to his place instead, hang out, have a quiet night together, but that kind of thing never appealed to Claire – she’d already chosen a dress and shoes and decided how she’d do her hair – and she didn’t want to waste herself on a night in.

  What’s more, she knew that Sebastian’s cousin and his friends, private-school boys from Sydney, would be at the party. Something about people from out of town had always excited Claire, something about making a stranger – particularly a rich and cocky stranger – look at her and want her was totally and utterly thrilling. Who could blame her for wanting to meet new people, be the focus of fresh male attention, flirt a little? But things had got out of hand. She’d lost her head, let excitement get the better of her.

  Lewis was his name. He was tall and good-looking and ridiculously confident. And he’d refused to take no for an answer. After too many drinks and a couple of lines, she’d succumbed and let him drag her to the sofa and put his arms around her. Kiss her. She remembered noticing that he was breathing a bit too heavily, putting his hands where he shouldn’t, as if he was hoping for more. She’d been trying to make it clear that she had no intention of having sex with him. Kissing was one thing but sex was something else entirely, reserved especially for Cooper.

  Her mouth was pressed against Lewis’s and her eyes were closed when she’d sensed a change in the air – a weird stillness, a shift in the atmosphere – and she opened her eyes and saw Cooper. He was staring at her, his body rigid, his mouth set in a straight, hard line. She watched him shake his head, as if he was trying to get rid of something unpleasant. He took a step backwards. Before she had the chance to say a word, to move or react, he turned and disappeared.

  She pushed Lewis away. She was about to run after Cooper and apologise, beg his forgiveness, but she saw that everyone was watching her, eyebrows raised in amusement, waiting, wondering what she would do. And in a crazy act of bravado, she laughed.

  She laughed and waved her hand dismissively. And then, to make matters worse, she turned around and kissed Lewis again. She was just showing off, putting on an act, being Claire. Her heart wasn’t in the kiss at all, her heart was somewhere else, small and shrivelled and cowering and wishing she could stop, rewind, do things differently.

  The worst thing, the thing that even now made her cringe, was that Cooper had come back. He’d seen everything. He’d seen her laugh, he’d seen her turn back to kiss Lewis again. And she knew he would never forgive her for that.

  And Claire would spend the rest of her life regretting that laugh, that extra stupid kiss.

  36

  LiBBy

  After the atmosphere at Sebastian’s, getting into Cooper’s car felt like taking off a tight, uncomfortable outfit. I could breathe properly again, stop holding myself in. Cooper and I glanced at each other and smiled with relief as he started the car and pulled away from the kerb. I looked out my window at the lights of the town below and thought that choosing to leave a party early felt somehow like a very mature thing to do. It was one of the very cool things about being an adult. I didn’t have to stay at a party if I didn’t want to, I could stand up and leave.

  ‘Do you want to go somewhere?’ Cooper asked when we reached the bottom of the hill. ‘A drink? Something to eat? The pub?’

  I shook my head.

  He stopped at a red light and turned to look at me. ‘Was that a no?’

  ‘I’m not hungry. I don’t really want to go anywhere.’

  ‘Okay . . . Ah . . . So did you want me to drop you back home?’

  ‘Please,’ I said.

  We drove to my place in silence. I had so many questions and so many new doubts. Maybe Mum and Hari had been right. How much could Cooper and I have in common if those people were his closest friends?

  He pulled up outside the front of my house, turned the engine off.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I wish I hadn’t taken you.’

  ‘Me too.’

  ‘Do you want to—’

  ‘No,’ I interrupted. I pushed open my door. ‘Thanks. I think I should go.’

  ‘Wait a sec—’ He put his hand on my arm. ‘I mean, is that it? You won’t talk to me now?’

  ‘Of course I’ll talk to you. I just . . .’ I sighed, sank back against my seat. ‘Look, I really hate that kind of scene. I hate it.’

  ‘So do I.’

  ‘But they’re your friends.’

  ‘Sebastian’s my friend,’ he said. ‘Claire’s not.’

  ‘But Seb was enjoying it.’

  ‘That’s because he’s pissed off with me at the moment. It’s complicated . . . I haven’t enjoyed his parties for a long time. I always leave early if I even go at all. He feels let down.’

  I didn’t respond.

  ‘Look. I’ve known Seb my whole life. He depends on me. And it’s not just a one-sided thing. He’d do anything for me. He’s a good mate. Sometimes he gets weird, that’s all. And you can’t blame him. If you knew his old man you’d understand. Leonard can be pretty mean to Seb sometimes. He needs his friends.’

  ‘Still. They were horrible. All of them.’

  ‘I know. I’m pissed off too. I’m not a bloody masochist.’

  Then why do you hang out with such foul people? I thought. Why would you go out with a shallow bitch like Claire?

  ‘Can’t we just forget it?’ he went on. ‘Pretend tonight didn’t happen?’

  ‘The things Claire said. It was so—’

  ‘Just bullshit,’ he interrupted. ‘Don’t take any notice. She was just trying to cause trouble.’

/>   ‘When we were in the bathroom she made it sound like you were really wild. Drugs and skinny-dipping. Public sex. Stuff like that.’

  ‘She would.’

  ‘It’s not true, then?’

  He groaned, tipped his head back against his seat and stared up at the ceiling. ‘I went out with Claire last year, right? And as stupid as it might seem now, I really liked her for a while. She’s into drugs, so I took them a few times. I did some stupid stuff while I was high, as you do. But I didn’t make a habit of it. I felt like crap for days afterwards and I was never that into it in the first place. I haven’t had anything harder than beer for a long time. And I don’t plan to. Okay?’

  ‘She made you sound so . . . so different to the way you seem to me. It freaked me out. Made me wonder if I had everything wrong.’

  ‘Do you normally let other people influence you like this?’

  ‘Not usually. But she’s not the only one . . . other people have warned me off you.’

  ‘What the fuck?’ he said. ‘Are you joking?’

  I immediately regretted my words. I could hardly repeat what Hari had said – and she’d been completely unfair anyway, jumping to a whole lot of conclusions. And the matter Mum had mentioned, I had no idea what it had been about. Whatever it was, Cooper might not even be aware of it. It wasn’t my place to bring it up.

  ‘Look. It was nothing, really. Some people I know were worried. That’s all. They thought you might be using me . . .’ I tried to smile. ‘It’s probably more insulting to me than it is to you.’

  ‘Using you for what?’ he spat. ‘What does that even mean?’

  ‘I don’t know. Please, Cooper, just forget I said it. Forget I said anything. My friends were just being overprotective. I guess they don’t want me to get hurt. I only told you about it because I was annoyed about tonight.’

  ‘Well, here I am, Libby,’ he said. ‘This is me. I’m not pretending or acting. I’m not using you, whatever that’s supposed to mean. I’ve been as straight as I can. And, yeah, maybe your friends will end up being right. Maybe you will get hurt. Who knows? Maybe I will. I can’t give you a written guarantee. You’ll just have to take a chance, make up your own mind.’

  He was right, there were no guarantees, and even if this only ended up lasting a week I knew I wanted to try. I’d be miserable if I went inside and never saw him again. If there was some risk – and the only risk I could think of was being hurt – I was happy to take it. I reached out and grabbed his fist, pulled it towards me.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I’m really sorry.’

  I leaned over the centre console, put my hand around his neck, pulled him towards me and kissed him. He resisted at first, but after a while he softened and put his arm around me.

  ‘Do you want to try again next weekend?’ I said. ‘Come to one of our parties? Ripple Beach? Last one before it gets too cold.’

  ‘I guess.’

  ‘I like you, Cooper. I really do.’

  ‘That’s a relief,’ he said. ‘Because I’ve always had a soft spot for soggy Weet-Bix.’

  37

  CLAiRE

  Claire woke up in Sebastian’s bed. Her head felt as though it was being squeezed by a cruel giant fist, and when she sat up it hurt even more. She clamped her hand over her mouth as a wave of nausea rolled through her.

  She slid to the edge of the bed, noticing Sebastian on the sofa. He was already awake, staring at the ceiling, his hands tucked behind his head.

  ‘Nurofen’s in the bathroom,’ he said without looking at her. ‘Second drawer.’

  She staggered to the bathroom, found the pills and took two, swallowing them down with a handful of water. She caught her reflection in the mirror and groaned. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying. Mascara had smudged halfway down her cheeks, her hair was all over the place. Her dress, which had looked so good last night, was rumpled and stained.

  She slipped her dress off and stepped into the shower. She lathered Sebastian’s soap all over her body and face, and washed her hair. When she got out she rubbed some of Sebastian’s moisturiser into her skin, used his deodorant, dabbed aftershave on her neck. Sebastian’s products were meant for men, but they were expensive and far more luxurious than she could afford, and she quite liked the woody scent.

  She wrapped a towel around her. In the walk-in robe, Seb had several thick, luscious-looking dressing-gowns hanging neatly on coathangers. She chose a long red one and put it on.

  When she returned to Seb’s room she found it empty. His bed was already made, the doona smooth and square, the pillows stacked neatly. Seb appeared a moment later holding two steaming cups, two perfect flat whites.

  ‘I thought you might need this,’ he said.

  ‘You’re a lifesaver.’ She took the cup gratefully.

  ‘I see you helped yourself,’ he said, glancing at the gown.

  ‘It’s so soft. I couldn’t help myself. You have the nicest things.’

  ‘Keep it if you want.’ He shrugged, took a seat at his desk. ‘I’ve got more.’

  ‘I noticed.’

  When they’d finished their coffee Sebastian went to the bathroom.

  ‘Your clothes,’ he said when he returned. ‘They’re all over the floor. And you left a wet towel in the wardrobe.’

  She rolled her eyes, but went to clean up her mess. It wasn’t worth arguing over. She’d been wrapped up in her own despair, but Seb was clearly feeling as bad as she was. He’d done a good job faking enthusiasm the night before, but despite her self-absorption she’d noticed the drawn look in his eyes, his lack of interest in his party. She didn’t need to add to his misery.

  She put the towel in the dirty-clothes basket, collected her dress and shoes, went back to Seb’s room and put her things on his bed. Sebastian sighed. He found a plastic bag, put her dress and shoes inside and hung the lot on a wall hook.

  Claire smiled. He really was obsessive.

  ‘Let’s go upstairs and watch something,’ she said. ‘A movie. Something funny. We both need a good laugh.’

  ‘We can watch something down here,’ he said, gesturing towards the large flat-screen television.

  ‘But I like the media room. It’s so much cosier. And we can get some food. I’m starving.’

  Upstairs, while Sebastian was closing the blinds, Claire sat on the floor next to the television cabinet. She searched lazily through the cupboards and drawers. She came across a bunch of video cassettes with handwritten labels. She took one out, read the label.

  Sebastian – 5 years old

  ‘Hey.’ She held it up. ‘Can we watch this?’

  Sebastian squinted. ‘What is it?’

  ‘One of your old home videos.’

  ‘If you want. They’re boring as shit.’

  Seb went to the kitchen to get something to eat, and Claire put the video on. It was entertaining for a while. It was cool to see Sebastian as a little kid. Short and dark and cute, his voice adorably high-pitched. His mother was shooting the video and Leonard was nowhere to be seen. Claire watched mini-Sebastian eating breakfast, jumping in the pool, sliding down the slippery dip, having a bath, reading a book. Sarah had obviously wanted to document every minute of this particular day. It soon got boring.

  Claire rummaged through the drawer, reaching right into the back, and pulled out another tape.

  Party – NYE

  This sounded much more promising. She ejected the other cassette, slipped the second one in.

  An image of the pool and garden. The same lush lawn, the same amazing view. But there was something different about it, and it took her a moment to work out what it was. The trees. They were much so much smaller, newly planted.

  The deck had been prepared for a party. Lights were strung up everywhere. There were long tables with white cloths draped over them, and rows and rows of shiny champagne glasses.

  Claire pressed fast-forward until the film showed a crowd of people. There was a lot of noise. Laughter and conversation. A
face she recognised came onto the screen. She couldn’t quite work out who it was at first – the woman had shoulder-length blonde hair and was wearing a sleeveless black dress – and then she laughed with surprise. It was Tessa. Cooper’s mum.

  It was so weird to see her looking so young and pretty.

  ‘Seb,’ Claire shouted. ‘You have got to come and see this!’

  She knew in theory that everyone’s parents had once been young, that they’d had parties, that they’d been sexual, but seeing it like this was a total head-spin.

  Tessa was looking sideways into the camera, laughing. She wrapped a strand of hair round her finger, pulled it between her lips, gave an exaggerated wink. She was being coy, deliberately flirtatious. She seemed so carefree, so different to the woman Claire knew. Tessa was normally so quiet and restrained.

  The camera zoomed in closer and closer. Tessa smiled. It wasn’t a normal, polite smile. It was a provocative, sexy smile. She dropped her chin, looked at the camera through her eyelashes, licked her lips. It was the kind of look you’d only give a lover. The camera zoomed in even closer. Tessa puckered her lips, blew a kiss.

  The kiss wasn’t a joke. Tessa’s eyes were full of love, and Claire wondered who was holding the camera. She had assumed it was Leonard at first, but it must have been someone else. Cooper’s father?

  A moment later, Sebastian’s mother appeared in the frame. She was holding two champagne flutes. Tessa stiffened, turned away from the lens. Her whole demeanour altered into something much more contained and familiar. Sarah handed Tessa a glass, turned a shy smile to the camera. ‘Turn it off,’ she said. ‘Leonard. Please. You’re making us self-conscious.’

  ‘Holy shit,’ Claire said. Then she turned and shouted towards the doorway. ‘Sebastian! Where are you? Oh my god, you have got to come here right now and see this!’

  She rewound the tape a little while she waited.