Andy

Amelia Spandel was a year below me at Claremont. We used to catch the same bus every day, until I got my licence. We weren't friends but I knew her well enough, everyone at Claremont knows Amelia, the popular girl with the brightest smile, who greets her friends with hugs at the school gate and who is part of making every Claremont High social event worthy of wanting to attend, even by me, the boy who had zero school spirit.

Amelia isn't your usual bitchy, popular girl, far from it actually. She's genuinely nice to everyone and not just because she's trying to use people just to get ahead, unlike others. With Amelia, what you see is what you get: a sweet, caring soul. She's one of the only students who sat and talked with Pia after she was assaulted, who convinced her to finally come forward, and now Amelia was the one who needed support.

The short car ride over to the Spandel house was filled with awkward silence. Dad and I hadn't really spoken about what happened yesterday, I'd managed to avoid him when I came back home, which was great because my mind was a clusterfuck of guilt and I know I would have torn him apart if he tried to dissect it, just to figure me out. I knew he was itching to ask but wouldn't, not before we'd spoken to Amelia's parents. As bad as this was I was a little grateful that he had something to keep him distracted from me.

Dad parked his car out on the street, in front of the Spandel's. He killed the engine and just sat there for a moment, taking deep, controlled breaths, slowly in, holding it, then releasing. This was his way of keeping his emotions in check, preparing himself for what he was about to step into

"I appreciate you coming with me today, Andrew." He says to me in a low, hushed tone. "I realise how difficult this would be for you, so if you need to step out at any time, please do so."

"Amelia was a friend to Pia when she needed one more than ever," I tell him, not that he's unaware of why I'm here. "I won't abandon her."

He places a hand on my shoulder and I have to fight the urge to pull away from him, now is not the time to be starting shit with him and I'm surprised that his gesture, that is so small, is actually giving me comfort. He was right about this being difficult and I didn't realise how hard it would be until now. It feels like I'm reliving this nightmare, but this time it's Amelia, not Pia.

I trail behind Dad as he pushes open the gate and walks up to the front door, passing by the row of neatly potted, colourful flowers that line the path, creating such a warm, cheerful entrance, but I'm sure that inside the house would be anything but cheerful today.

Dad rang the doorbell and we heard the loud, musical chime from the other side of the door. Silence followed, which felt like it stretched on for hours, just Dad and I huddled together on the front stoop.

"We'll just give them a moment," Dad says when he sees me reaching for the doorbell again. "Sometimes it takes a while to process what is going on when you're faced with trauma."

Don't I know that? I'm still trying to navigate my way through my own, still making careless mistakes that hurt people. Yesterday was proof of that. I'd been awake half the night, cursing myself for hurting Claire and betraying Pia.

After what feels like a lifetime, when in fact it's only been a few minutes, we hear shuffling behind the door. The lock clicks and the door swings back to reveal a tall, grey haired man who is dressed casually in a t-shirt and shorts, compared to Dad in his button-down shirt, tie and dress pants, the same attire he wears for work and me in my Brixton uniform, where I thought I'd be going today, before Dad got the call from Claremont High.

"Good morning, Mr Spandel, my name is Lucas Stephenson, I'm the youth councillor at Claremont High." Dad introduces himself, holding out his hand for Mr Spandel to shake.

"Ah, yes, you spoke to my wife, Katerina, this morning." Mr Spandel replies, and I note the hint of an Italian accent. He holds the door open for us to enter. "Please, call me Tony."

Tony's eyes fall on me, and I can see him questioning why I'm here, why Dad brought his teenage son along for this. I focus my attention on the living room to avoid his gaze, the white walls decorated with photos of Amelia and her older sister, Betina, who was a year above me. The sisters are almost identical, both have thick, long, black, curly hair and brown eyes that sparkle, they look happy in every picture that lines the walls, and it crushes me to think of that happiness being stolen.

"Tony, this is my son Andrew." Dad introduces me, bringing my attention back to the tall man standing in front of me. "I brought him along today because his girlfriend, Pia, was the first victim, well, that we know of, there may be others who are yet to come forward, sadly, I thought Andy might be able to help by providing details of Pia's encounter."

"Pia, that name sounds familiar. Was she a friend of Amelia's?" Tony asks me, becoming more relaxed now that he knows why I'm here.

"Amelia was a great help to Pia," I explain. "Amelia encouraged Pia to go to the police and file a report." Little good that did, the guy is still out there.

"How is Pia now?" The question comes from behind me, and I turn to see Amelia's mother, Katerina, standing in the doorway between the living room and dining room. Her eyes are bloodshot, and her cheeks are puffy from crying. She is the spitting image of her daughters, same thick, black, curly hair, which falls to her shoulders; the only difference is hers has specks of grey throughout.

Her question lingers heavy in the air; she wants me to tell her that her daughter will recover from this, that this won't be a mark that Amelia carries around for the rest of her life, that she can work her way out of the darkness and put the assault behind her. I don't want to be honest with her; she's hurting enough as it is without some stranger telling her that her daughter may never be the same, this may haunt her for the rest of her life, and it could even be the reason she takes her own life.

"We just take it one day at a time," I tell her, not wanting to go into detail, more so for their sake than mine.

"How is Amelia?" Dad asks Katerina, who immediately throws a glance down the hallway that comes off the living room, all the doors are closed, bar one.

"Let's go talk in the dining room, it's more private there," Tony suggests, pushing past his wife to lead us. The room is smaller than what I thought it would be, with a tiny table that has four chairs. "I'll make us coffee."

I take a seat at the table next to Dad. The space is so tight that we're practically sitting on top of each other. I guess when you're a tight-knit family, you don't care about being so close to one another, but for me, I'd hate this.

"I feel like I've lost my little girl." Katerina breaks down in front of us, sobbing softly into a tissue that she pulls from the box behind her. "This monster has destroyed my beautiful baby. We should never have let her go to that party. I was frightened of this happening, but my daughter is a smart girl; she had told us countless times that she doesn't accept drinks from strangers."

"Katerina, this isn't Amelia's fault; she can not blame herself for any of this, and neither can you or your husband," Dad says, adapting his soothing, counsellor voice that I've come to know so well. I usually hate when he uses this voice on me, but right now I hope it brought the Spandel's comfort.

"This is the hardest part about being a parent to teenagers, you want to show your children that you trust them to make good choices, but all the while you spend endless nights, worried for their safety." Katerina sobs. Tony comes in from the kitchen, carrying two mugs of coffee, which he places in front of Dad and me, and I don't have the heart to tell him that I don't drink it, so instead, I drag the mug towards me and cradle my hands around the warmth of the ceramic.

"I understand that my wife and I have four children, three girls and Andrew here, who is our youngest. Believe me, there's a lot of sleepless nights." Dad tells Katerina as he pats me on the back. Am I the reason for his sleepless nights? Out of all his children, I would have been the most troublesome.

My eldest sister, Daisy, is the golden child, got good grades, studied law at Uni and is now a high-profile lawyer. Then there's Imogen, who dropped out of school to become a flight attendant, takes her all over the world, so we rarely see her, but whenever she visits, it's a blast. Gabby and I are the only two still living at home, and I doubt she will ever leave, not when she's getting free rent and fed. Gabby is at uni though, studying to become a veterinarian, she's about to start her third year. Compared to my siblings, I'm a train wreck, getting expelled from high school and having a record with the police.

I guess I never considered how my behaviour affected my parents, though, not when I was getting yelled at by Dad. Hearing him talk like this is a harsh jolt to my system. I've spent so long fighting against him that I never got to see how much it hurts him too.

"Amelia hasn't left her room since we brought her home from the hospital," Tony tells us, his face etched with worry for his daughter.

"She's in shock; the body shuts down when trying to comprehend trauma," Dad explains. "She filed a report with the police while in the hospital, though?"

"Yes," Katerina says, looking to her husband. "She told the officer that the room was dark, so she couldn't see the man, but that he had a distinct cologne, but she couldn't make out what it was, said it smelled woodsy."

"Pia said the same thing about the cologne," I say to Dad, I remember we searched everywhere to try and find that scent, just so she could add it to the police report, but we never did find it.

"

The police took Amelia's dress that she was wearing that night, to scan for hair or..." Katerina's voice trails off, unable to think about what her daughter went through on Saturday night.

"The police will find who did this to your daughter, and they will put him away for a very long time," Dad promises the Spandel's.

"Can you tell me what happened to your girlfriend when she was assaulted?" Katerina begs me, I can see the desperation in her eyes, she's clinging to hope that Amelia will get through this.

Talking about Pia to strangers feels so odd to me, but the Spandel's need to hear about what Pia went through that night because, between Pia and Amelia's description of their attacker, we may be able to hunt him down.

Afterwards I felt like a weight had been lifted from me, one that was shackled to me for months now and I started to realise why Dad had brought me here today, it wasn't just about me helping the Spandel's, he wanted me to talk to someone who was going through the same grief I was, who were helpless and scared, just like I had been. He wanted to show me that I wasn't alone.