Boy meets girl

I want to meet you. Be friends in real life.

There was a very long silence. Edmon sat at his computer, waiting impatiently for a response.

This is real life too.

Edmon didn’t understand. They’d never spoken about meeting up in person before, but he’d assumed it’d be a mere formality when the issue was eventually broached.

You’re going to be disappointed. You don’t like me that much in real life.

Edmon’s breath stuck in his chest. They knew each other. They had been chatting for over a year online and still he had no idea of EyeLiteTheNite’s true identity. But she – if she was a she – knew exactly who he was. Worse, he didn’t like her. It stumped Edmon. His group was all guys, but they interacted heavily with other groups. There were a couple of girls he paid very little attention to, but he wouldn’t go as far as dislike. In the last year he’d been trying very hard to be open and approachable – for the very reason that he didn’t want to unintentionally offend EyeLite.

I can make that up to you

So you’ll be nice to me because I shamed you into it?

I’m nice to you online

Doesn’t that make it worse that you’re such an arse in real life?

Wow. An arse. Edmon was shocked. It made him wonder if everyone secretly viewed him this way.

That’s brutal

Truth is. You’re not the first guy to be an arrogant jerk in real life and save his sensitive side for when he’s protected by anonymity. Is it cos you’re a football star?

Edmon was confused, but was also buoyed by a pinprick of hope.

Football star? I’ve never been called that in my life.

Edmon loved playing, but his skill level had never matched his enthusiasm. It was one of the reasons why his mother hated him playing so much. She considered it a waste of his talent.

Yeah right. Falcon. Why would you call yourself that? Captain of the football team. Name yourself after the stupid team.

Jeez. Chris Mathers has really pissed you off. I’m really glad I’m not him.

Minutes went by. No reply. Edmon’s heart was thrumming. He wondered if EyeLite was still online. Maybe she hated that he’d called her out. Maybe she had hoped he was Chris. With a deep breath, Edmon started typing.

A scream streaked through the house, jolting Edmon’s heart. Looking at the door, he quickly turned back to the computer.

I still want to meet you. I’m Edmon Falkner. Falcon. Very unoriginal. Definitely not a football star. Definitely hoping I’ve never been mean to you in real life. Come find me when you’re ready.

Too anxious to worry about what he’d written, Edmon jumped up and raced to Reagan’s room. Edyn was already there calming her.

It was until Edmon moved in with his father and sister that he realised how many nightmares his niece had. Reagan was such a happy, bubbly child that he’d been able to dismiss her talk of nightmares as nothing too serious. Now he realised they were a nightly occurrence and within two weeks of moving in she was calling his name to protect her from her nightly terrors.

“It’s okay,” sighed Edyn, sitting on the side of Reagan’s bed. She was stroking Reagan’s hair. If Reagan had woken up, she was fast asleep again now.

“You got an exam tomorrow?” asked Edmon.

“Yeah,” nodded Edyn.

“Then go to bed. I’ll stay up with her.”

Edyn nodded heavily. She was getting better at accepting his help. It wasn’t as though their father didn’t assist where he could, but his work took him away from home so often that he just wasn’t around. It made Edmon wish that he’d moved in with his father sooner.

Sliding into the bed, Reagan immediately curled up against Edmon’s chest. Sometimes she went the rest of the night without another nightmare. On others, Edmon had earned himself a collection of bruises from Reagan flinging herself at terrors that chased her. Tonight it was bruises.

“I’ll stay with her tonight,” said Edyn over breakfast.

“How about I cover your exams and you take the rest of the year?” asked Edmon with a weary smile.

“I have a year and a half left. That’s a lot of bruises.”

“I thought the docs said she’d grow out of it. Childhood thing.”

“I really hope so,” sighed Edyn. “It’s just been so bad lately.”

“Since I came?”

“Maybe,” laughed Edyn. “But she’s not scared of you. I’ve never seen her as happy as since you moved in. I’ve never seen you as happy either.”

“Yeah, but that’s wearing off,” replied Edmon, the smile slipping from his face. “I feel guilty about Mum.”

“Eddie, if it wasn’t for her delusion that you’re Eamon – that you could somehow be Eamon – then none of us would’ve left.”

“But I am like him, aren’t I?” asked Edmon seriously. “I’ve seen the pictures. I could be his twin. We look identical. People who knew him, they look like they’ve seen a ghost when they see me.”

“Yeah, okay, you look like him,” replied Edyn. “A lot. Even I’ve had times where I think you’re him, but you’re not. You just look like him. And even identical twins are separate people. So even if that were possible – that somehow they fluked the same genetic combination – doesn’t make you him. Mum needs to realise that.”

“Think she will?”

“No.”

“Uncle Eddie! You haven’t packed my bag,” hollered Reagan from her room.

“Reagan, you haven’t eaten your breakfast,” hollered Edmon in return.

Reagan stomped into the kitchen and sat down at the bench. With a huff, she started eating, but Reagan was not the kind of child to stay silent for long. She was soon chattering away, eliminating the opportunity for Edmon and Edyn to continue any kind of conversation.

“Uncle Eddie, you need to pack my bag now,” demanded Reagan as soon as the last mouthful of food was swallowed.

“And when do you get old enough to pack your own bag?”

“I’m only in kindergarten. You can’t expect me to do it.”

Edmon smiled, while Edyn tried to hide her laugh. “But when can I expect it?” asked Edmon, putting on a serious voice, though he could not hide his smile.

“Maybe in year six, cos I will have to do it in high school,” replied Reagan with a nod.

“I could do it when I was in year one,” countered Edmon. “But maybe you’re a little slower than me. That’s okay. I’ll keep helping you.”

Reagan ran from the room. Edmon turned to Edyn with apologetic eyes.

“Good try,” smiled Edyn. “And it’s you’re mess to clean up. My exam’s in the afternoon. You right to pick her up from school as well.”

“You going to write me a note?”

“Urgh, yeah.”

“Uncle Eddie, I’m better than you!” cried Reagan, prancing back into the kitchen, her school bag on her back. “I packed it all myself.”

“Want me to check it?”

“No! I can do it now all by myself. Don’t need you at all.”

“Do I still get to walk to school with you? Or are you going to make me walk all by myself?” asked Edmon, saddening his eyes.

“You can still walk with me,” replied Reagan casually.

“You just remember to be nice to your uncle,” said Edyn, a hint of sternness in her voice. “You shouldn’t be mean to him just because he couldn’t pack his own school bag in kindergarten.”

“I promise, Mummy. I’ll be nice to him,” replied Reagan with a charming smile.

Edmon held Reagan’s hand as they walked. Reagan talked the whole way. It didn’t matter what they passed, she had something to say about it. The houses, trees, cars, people. Edmon often wondered if Reagan spoke so much because the rest of them spoke so little. Even when his dad was home he was a very quiet man. Edmon often noticed his dad just watching him. Sometimes tears slipped from his eyes. No one ever spoke then. No one but Reagan.

“You have a good day, my royal Reagan,” said Edmon when they reached her school gate. “I’ll be here to pick you up at the end of the day, okay.”

Reagan gave him a quick hug before running into the playground. Edmon watched her for a minute, admiring the confidence that could only come from knowing who you were. Even at Reagan’s age Edmon had not been sure who he really was. At times he convinced himself he was Eamon. Come back to live another life. There had been joy in that idea, as though he would have the chance to experience life in a different way, do things differently, see what else he was capable of.

Perhaps that could have worked. When Edmon looked in the mirror, it was hard for him not to see Eamon looking back at him. But his mother had never wanted him to be anything but the boy Eamon had been, to retract his every step in the hope of bringing Eamon’s future to life.

“Hey!”

Edmon’s feet stuttered. He looked up just in time to stop him from running into Courtney.

“Hey, sorry. In my own world.”

“Yeah, noticed. What’s going on?”

“Nothing. Just didn’t sleep well.”

“That’s no good. Hey, you finish your English essay yet?”

Edmon was shaking his head when he realised that Courtney almost never came up and spoke to him.

“You chat online much?” asked Edmon as they walked to class.

“No,” scoffed Courtney. “Definitely not with anyone here. I see school people enough at school.”

“Yeah, definitely,” replied Edmon, ignoring Courtney’s sideways smirk.

That encounter left Edmon feeling flat. Yet he could not help but try and find clues as to EyeLite’s identity from every girl he spoke to, and he watched every girl who ignored him even more. After a couple of days, with only silence in the chatroom, Edmon began to fear that he really had been mean to EyeLite. Now she knew who he was, she was avoiding him completely. Or he was just looking at the wrong half of the population.

“I got footy training after school. You good to pick up Reagan from school?” Edmon asked Edyn at breakfast.

“Yeah, I’ll swing it somehow,” sighed Edyn.

“I can do it,” said Dad. “But I want you both home by seven for dinner,” he added sternly.

“Why?” Edyn and Edmon asked in unison.

“Your mother’s joining us. No excuses. You be here.”

No one spoke. No one asked the pressing questions. It was silent. Until Reagan started chattering endlessly. It took a while for anyone to realise what she was talking about, but she kept going, filling the silent void.

Edmon spent the whole day on edge. His mother hated the way Reagan prattled, but Reagan hated the tension more. Although Edmon had spoken to his mother since moving out, he had only seen her once when he returned home for his things. She cried the whole time, but when she once again called him Eamon, Edmon left without another word. Since then, his mother had only ever called him Edmon, but she had always been better on the phone.

The awful anticipation of what would happen that night kept Edmon at training longer than usual. A group of girls watched them from the sideline. Most were in Chris Mathers’ group. The most popular girls in the school. And the prettiest. Edmon looked at Chris and wondered how he got away with being such an arsehole. They’d all seen it. He was able to pick and choose who he spoke to, who was worthy of his time. Yet instead of being repulsed, most people just tried harder for his recognition. Maybe that was why EyeLite had been so disappointed with Edmon’s identity. She had lost the opportunity to make Chris see just how great she was. Edmon wished she’d given him the chance to show her why she shouldn’t even bother.

“Hey, Mr Football Star, you ever getting out of here?”

Edmon spun around. Marley Winters was walking next to him as he collected the cones from the field. Just one more task to keep him from home, though it hardly made a difference. He would have to stay out another hour to be late.

“Football star? You’re talking to the wrong person,” Edmon scoffed, before stopping.

“Yeah, okay, I agree. You’re no Chris Mathers, but I reckon I’m talking to the right person.”

Edmon just stood there. He wanted to ask the question, but couldn’t make his mouth work.

“Someone’s told you that just staring at girls is pretty creepy, right, Falcon?”

“You’re really EyeLite?”

“You think EyeLiteTheNite’s mean enough to set you up like this?” asked Marley.

“No.”

“Then you have your answer. So I going to get mine? You ever getting out of here?”

“Yeah, two minutes,” smiled Edmon, running around the field to collect the rest of the cones.