Sam had always been the invisible boy in his school.
It wasnt that he tried to melt into the wallpaper; on the contrary, he was clever, with neat features that could have sparked a string of compliments if anyone bothered to look. Yet Year10, FormA at Manchester High never seemed to notice him. The pupils clustered in cliques based on shared interests, and Sam never fit any of them. He wasnt bullied, but he never had friends either.
He drifted through the dining hall, the classroom, his flat that was his whole world.
He didnt particularly yearn for anyones company.
Then she arrived.
A new girl.
Her backstory was fragmented: no parents, only a grandmother who didnt really need her. She, like Sam, was a loner, but unlike him she seemed wilted, not withdrawn.
When Sam first saw her, the grey world hed known burst into colour. Love at first sight, he thought.
Hi, he said, walking over to her desk after the lesson.
He hadnt expected to approach anyone, honestly. The other pupils poured out of the classroom, spilling into the corridor.
Gwen snapped her textbook shut and lifted her gaze.
Hi, she replied.
Im Sam. And youre Gwen? he stammered, already realizing hed never been good at courting girls.
Yes, Gwen.
So how are you finding our class? I saw you left the maths test blank. Everything alright?
Gwen had indeed left the sheet empty. Shed intended to make a good impression on the new teachers, after all.
Its odd. Im a bit behind, but Ill catch up, she said.
You could have asked someone.
Ask, huh? Easy word. Its hard for me to start conversations, she added, standing.
I get it. Im not much of a chatterbox either. If you need anything, just shout. I know this school well I mean, I get decent grades. Not that youre,
…not normal, Gwen finished with a small smile.
And so their friendship began.
For the first time Sam found a purpose in trudging through the drab corridors. He didnt just befriend Gwen; he started to look after her, little by little. He knew his way around maths, literature, even managed to cover for her in PE.
Youre brilliant, Sam! shed say, leaning over her notebook. How do you get it? The teacher explained it all and I still have no idea. Id never finish school without you.
Gwen exaggerated, but it pleased Sam a modest boost to his ego.
Its simple. You just need the right formula. Youll get there soon.
Its just Im not as quick. Or Im completely stuck.
Its not a race. The point is you understand. If you dont, Ill explain again a hundred times if I have to.
A thousand, if that meant shed sit with him a bit longer.
By the time they reached Year11, Sam was ready to confess his feelings when the right moment arrived. But the moment never came; Gwen, now more confident, started drifting toward other classmates. She seemed to get along with everyone, a talent that blossomed all of a sudden.
Sam was happy for her, yet a quiet resentment simmered inside him.
While Sam plotted how to win her back, Gwen gravitated toward Dean. Dean was loud, always at the centre of the action, and hardly ever held long conversations. Gwen began to orbit his world, and Dean quickly sized her up.
Sam watched as Gwen swapped seats to sit next to Dean more often.
One afternoon, while they were alone in the park and Dean had wandered off with his mates, Sam asked, Gwen, whats going on with Dean? You didnt turn up yesterday, even though wed arranged to meet
Sorry, we got carried away. Dean I think Im in love, she blurted.
Sam froze, but friendship forced him to ask, Is he a good bloke?
He knew Dean from the first day of primary school, so he doubted the answer.
Hes easy to be with, she said.
And with me?
Gwen gave him a sideways look. Sam, youre my best mate. With friends its simple. With a boyfriend its always a mess, but Deans different. I think well make it work.
Sam understood at once. He would remain her friend the best one, but just a friend.
School ended, and the carefree days of seeing Gwen on every corner vanished. Gwen dated Dean, and occasionally met Sam in the park when she remembered.
Dean and Gwen married almost immediately.
Sam stood at the reception, playing the part of the loyal friend to the very end. He smiled, offered congratulations, and posed for countless photos beside the newlyweds. He kept wondering why theyd rushed the wedding, a question Gwen never fully answered.
Then the reason emerged. Gwen was pregnant soon, as they put it. The news hit Sam like a sledgehammer. All hope drained away.
Ah, thats why they hurried, Sam thought. It wasnt romance or infatuation driving them, but the blunt prose of responsibility, fatherhood, perhaps a desire for stability.
Sam realised there was nothing left for him to chase. Their child would be born, and his life would go on.
He tried, honestly. He met other women, went on dates, even tried to fit into university societies, but nothing resonated. His heart was a ghostly, steadfast echo of Gwen. No one could match the image he carried of her, even the Gwen who now lived a completely different life.
Gwens married life proved far from the bliss shed imagined. She found herself living in Deans mother Ivys house. Ivy made it clear who ruled the roof. Gwen, once a young, pretty bride, was reduced to a servants role.
This is mine, Ivy said when Gwen reached for a candy in the bowl, not out of spite for the sweet but to mark her authority.
May I have one? Gwen asked.
Fine, take it, Ivy replied.
Before, Gwen had only lived with her grandmother. Now everything was suddenly alien.
She gave birth on schedule, yet the house offered no respite.
When will you start work? Ivy snapped, eyes icy. Were not a restaurant or a shelter. Everyone must earn.
And what about Kolya? she demanded. Youre not going to leave him alone, are you?
Exactly, I wont, Ivy retorted. I raised my own. Now you raise yours. No problem. Juggle night shifts and the baby.
She never mentioned that Deans own father spent most nights at home, while Dean himself refused to help.
Dean seemed blissfully unaware, or perhaps indifferent, preferring weekend benders with his mates, leaving wife and mother to sort the mess.
Lad, what can I do? Women understand each other better, you know Ivy muttered.
Sometimes Gwen had no one to talk to. Sam, despite his best efforts, could barely breach the wall between them.
Gwen endured because she had nowhere else to go.
Years rolled on, etching lines on faces and scars in souls. Sam was now twentyfive. His career was thriving; his love life, however, was still a barren field, just as at school. He remained the lone wolf, now even more guarded.
He saw Gwen rarely, and a private conversation with her felt like a Christmas miracle, because wherever he met her, Ivy was always lurking.
Gwen! he called, spotting her at a bus stop.
They hadnt spoken in almost a year.
Sam. Its been ages, she said, trying to smile.
Almost a year, actually, he replied.
She laughed. Time flies.
Whats your life like? Work?
There was no point in detailing a job that was just a job. She managed to get her son into a nursery and hoped the occasional sick pay would keep her afloat.
Its all right, as you can see, she said, forcing a grin.
Sam saw through it. Beneath her foundation makeup, a faint bruise marred her cheek.
Did Dean do that? Sam asked bluntly.
Gwen flinched, then snapped, Thats none of your business, Sam.
His attempts to help were slipping through his fingers.
Gwen he began.
She turned away. Well see each other again.
Back at her motherinlaws house, Gwen reached for her compact, wiped away the concealer, and the bruise darkened into a stark reminder. She stared at her reflection. It was no longer the girl she once knew.
What have I become? she whispered.
Before she could answer herself, Ivys voice cut through the air.
Who did you meet again today? How many times must I cover you for Deans son? You know what will happen if he finds out, dont you? Ivy hissed, gesturing at the bruise. Do you want more supplements? Who were you with?
Gwen stammered, Sam were school friends. We just ran into each other.
That Sam, the one you used to run to the park with? Ivy sneered. Hes still a sh, just the same. And Dean hes tolerating you because you keep him drunk.
The tirade went on, a relentless chorus of blame. Ivys house, which shed rented before the wedding, felt suffocating. Gwen felt as if the air itself was being squeezed out, and she dreamed of escape, though not literally.
Were moving, Ivy announced one day. To the village. City rent is too high. A house out there will be cheaper.
Its about time, Mum, Dean muttered, indifferent to where he worked.
No one asked Gwen what she wanted.
When she finally slipped away to say goodbye to Sam before the move, he looked at her as if at a funeral.
Gwen, this is a huge mistake. The move you wont escape the city, and the village will swallow you whole. Where are you headed? he pleaded.
You dont understand, Sam. No one asked me.
The choice is always yours, he insisted, though it can be a terrible one.
And who am I worth to anyone but them?
Me. Stay. Come live with me. You, Dean, and Kolya.
It fell on deaf ears.
The village was a cracked, dusty place with no familiar faces. Dean, even here, kept his habits. He vanished for days, returning home like a squeezed lemon halfdrunk, halflost. Ivy, rather than easing Gwens burden, tightened her grip.
Gwen! Slice the sausage for the sandwiches. Peel the potatoes. Then vacuum. Who else will do this? she barked.
Kolya, their son, absorbed his fathers sloth.
Kol, tidy up after yourself! Gwen snapped when he spilled tea.
You clean, not me. Why are you even in the house? he retorted.
Gwen, crushed by his arrogance, looked to Dean for a sliver of support, but he only smirked.
Right, lad. Youve got to be stricter from the start, Dean said.
Later, Gwen tried to explain to Kolya why his behaviour was wrong; he nodded politely, only to repeat the same commands a week later.
Dean drifted in and out, often coming home filthy-eyed and bruised from a night of drinking.
Youve ruined my son! Ivy shrieked when Dean stumbled home, bloodied and drunk. Youve driven him you always have a sidewoman. Think thats why he drinks? Hes scared of divorce!
Gwen could only stay silent. What could she say when Dean roamed, drank, and never admitted any affection for her? He never even considered leaving her.
Kolya grew, mirroring his fathers lack of ambition. At twenty, he still hadnt found work, drifting with Dean, returning home drunken.
Give me five hundred pounds, Mum, he begged. Dad said.
Gwen sighed. You and your dad never plan to work, do you?
Show me a decent job around here. Ill apply.
One evening, tension boiled over. Ivy launched another tirade about Gwens uselessness, and Gwen finally snapped. She drove back to the city, seeking Sam.
It was a flash of hope.
She arrived at the address she remembered from better days Sams flat. She lingered on the bench until darkness fell, too timid to ring the buzzer. His parents lived there, but where was Sam?
A faint knock on the intercom.
Mom, well be over tomorrow, Sam said, seeing his mother off with a welldressed woman.
The woman smiled politely, hugging his mother as they left. Gwen realised that some doors, once shut, never open again.
