Free Never Close Your Eyes by Emma Burstall

thought id better warn u. there saying u gave liam a blow job in the boys toilets.
    Freya felt sick. Liam was Abigail’s boyfriend. Abigail used to be her friend. She’d hate her now, too. How was she going to face school tomorrow?
    This had been going on for weeks. Almost every day Gemma and Chantelle and the others were spreading more rumours on MSN. If only Richie, Chantelle’s ex, had never asked Freya out. They’d only snogged once and Chantelle had chucked him already anyway. But still, she and Gemma had decided Freya was a man-stealer and that was that.
    She glanced at her new shoes in the box and kicked the lid shut. She didn’t feel excited about them any more. She felt guilty. Poor Mum. She’d spent a fortune on them. Gemma and Abigail had the exact same ones but it probably wouldn’t make any difference. They complimented other girls who wore them, but they’d just say Freya was copying or something. In the past few weeks they’d called her a slag, liar and a thief, and they’d said she’d fuck anyone in sight. It was getting too much.
    Even Freya’s best friends were starting to distance themselves from her, probably because they were scared of what would happen to them otherwise. Lucy was all right, though she had to pretend that she was still friends with Gemma and Chantelle and Abigail at school. Freya understood why. But Lucy messaged Freya every night to tell her what was going on. Sometimes she rang and recited exactly what they were saying. It made Freya ill.
    u should tell your mum , Lucy wrote.
    But Freya would never do that. Mum had enough to deal with. Freya was worried about her. She seemed especially sad tonight, as if she was going to have a nervous breakdown or something. That was scary.
    want me 2 come round? Lucy asked.
    nah, im all right , Freya lied. thanks anyway.
    She sniffed, wiping her eyes and nose on the sleeve of her school blouse. Life was shit. She picked up the compact mirror on her desk and stared into it. Her face was all red and blotchy and she had a huge zit on her chin. She never knew she could be so unhappy.
    She put in her earphones and switched on her iPod. The first track was Funeral for a Friend’s ‘Red is the New Black’. It seemed appropriate. She wondered what Cal was doing. It was past nine so she wouldn’t look too keen if she messaged him. She started to type: crap day. wubu2 ? (What have you been up to?) She hoped he was online.
    â€˜Can I come in?’
    She looked up. Michael, her brother, had poked his head round the door. He didn’t wait for an answer. She could see that he’d been crying, too. They were a right pair. And Mum had been weeping. They were a right family. His cheeks were red and his eyes looked puffy. She turned off the music and took out her earphones. She felt all mother hen-ish.
    â€˜Hey, bruv,’ she said. ‘You should be in bed. What’s the matter?’
    He slumped on to her bed, elbows resting on his knees, his head bowed. He didn’t even notice the new black and white poster on the wall of the man with a dagger in his heart. Normally he’d have said ‘Gross!’ or something like that.
    â€˜I miss Dad,’ he said. His straight brown hair hung down, covering his face.
    Freya left her desk and sat beside her younger brother on the purple duvet, putting her arm round his thin shoulders. ‘I know,’ she said. ‘I do too.’
    â€˜But I wish he wouldn’t keep coming round because it upsets Mum,’ Michael said fiercely. ‘He pretends it’s to see us but I don’t believe it. It’s like he doesn’t want her but he won’t let her go either.’
    Freya felt a lump in her throat. Michael was so young yet he understood everything. ‘He still loves you, you know,’ she said, trying to sound comforting like Mum. ‘Just because he’s left doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you any