Billy Button Read online

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1 Forgotten friends

  Chapter 2 The face in the doorway

  Chapter 3 The writing on the whiteboard

  Chapter 4 Bye-bye, Billy

  Chapter 5 Long walk home

  Chapter 6 Alone

  Epilogue Two years later…

  Copyright Page

  Titles in Teen Reads

  CHAPTER 1

  Forgotten friends

  Billy Button had green skin.

  At the time, Liam didn’t think anything of it. After all, Billy wasn’t the same as other boys. He came and went as he pleased. One minute he wasn’t there, the next he had appeared at Liam’s side. Ready to play. Ready to cause trouble.

  Billy could do anything he wanted. Nothing stopped him. Not rules. Not parents. Not teachers.

  He could even walk through walls.

  Because Billy wasn’t real.

  Liam hadn’t thought about his imaginary friend for years. Until this morning, in fact. Until he had been rifling through the drawer beneath his bed and felt something cold and hard against his fingers.

  He’d brought the object out and stared at it in amazement.

  A big, green button.

  He’d had it since he was five. His grandma used to let him play with the buttons from her sewing kit. He’d spend hours sorting them into different shapes and colours.

  The big, green button was his favourite, and one day she said he could take it home.

  It was the same day he met Billy.

  Liam was playing in the garden on his own. No brothers or sisters. Not since the accident anyway. Not since they’d lost Marcus.

  And Dad.

  So he made up his own brother. A boy his own age, just a bit taller, with long arms and legs. Like a spider. A mop of unruly hair sat on Billy’s head and his eyes shone like pinpricks of light.

  At first, Billy would come whenever Liam held his grandma’s button tight in his fist. Soon, he could call Billy without need of the button, although Liam always kept it in his pocket anyway. He was never lonely when Billy was around. Never scared. Billy always knew what to say to cheer him up, flashing that cheeky, lopsided grin.

  Even Mum got used to Billy being around, although she couldn’t see him, of course. Sometimes, she even set an extra place at dinner, not that Billy liked her cooking.

  “Ugh, that’s rank!” he’d complain, pulling the funniest faces. Liam would try not to laugh – and fail.

  Mum didn’t mind the giggling. She was just happy to hear Liam laugh again.

  She wasn’t so glad when Liam started blaming Billy for things.

  “Billy ate the last custard cream, Mum. Not me.”

  “Billy lost my coat.”

  “Billy smashed your vase.”

  “Billy told me to run away…”

  She lost her patience then. “You need to grow up,” she snapped. “Forget about Billy. Live in the real world.”

  Eventually, Liam did exactly that. He went to school. Made new friends. Friends who were real. Who Mum could see.

  And not one of them had green skin.

  Billy simply faded away. Out of sight, out of mind. Until today. Until Liam found that button again.

  He had it in his hand now, turning it over and over as he listened to Mr Newman call out the register. The plastic was cold, even though it was the hottest day of the year. It had always been the same and, until now, Liam had never thought it was odd.

  Mr Newman continued through the names.

  “Jon Mann?”

  “Here.”

  “Helen Wright?”

  “Here.”

  “Billy Button?”

  Liam’s head snapped up. “What?” he said out loud.

  Mr Newman looked puzzled. “Liam?

  Is everything all right?”

  Liam glanced around, feeling his face flush.

  Everyone was staring at him.

  “Sorry, sir. It’s just…” his voice trailed off. Someone sniggered at the back of the class. Liam swallowed, his mouth dry. “The last name on the register, sir. Wh-who was it?”

  Mr Newman checked the computer screen. “Ben,” he said. “Ben Clifton.” He turned to peer at Liam. “Is that OK?”

  Liam’s cheeks were now burning hot. “Yeah, I’m… sorry, sir,” he muttered. “Just thought you said something else.”

  Mr Newman shook his head and carried on with the register. Liam felt an elbow nudge him in the side.

  “What was that about, you idiot?” said a fair-haired boy called Chris Hussey.

  Liam shook his head, staring at his desk as if his life depended on it. He could still feel everyone’s eyes on him. “Nothing,” he grunted. “Just being stupid. It doesn’t matter.”

  “Loser,” Chris snorted, but he didn’t mean it. Chris and Liam had been friends from the moment they’d met. Best friends.

  The button in Liam’s hand grew colder than ever.

  CHAPTER 2

  The face in the doorway

  By lunchtime Liam was seriously freaking out. What was it with today? Yes, he’d been teased about his outburst during the register. He couldn’t blame Chris. That’s what you did – take the mickey out of your mates. Liam could cope with that.

  It was the other stuff that bothered him. The stuff he couldn’t explain.

  The stuff about Billy.

  He heard the name everywhere he went.

  Whispered as he barged his way down the corridor. Shouted across the playground. Snatches of conversations.

  Billy Button.

  Billy Button.

  The same everywhere Liam went. That stupid, childish name over and over again.

  Billy Button.

  Billy Button.

  It didn’t make any sense. He’d never talked to anyone about Billy. Not even Chris. Not because he’d been embarrassed. It wasn’t that. Billy just wasn’t important any more.

  Billy Button.

  Billy Button.

  Things got worse when he made his way to Geography, the last lesson before lunch. He was keeping his head down, just trying to get through the day without going insane. Then he walked past a kid from year seven.

  “Did you hear what Billy Button did? I can’t believe it.”

  Liam whirled around and grabbed the younger pupil by his jumper, ramming the kid into the lockers.

  “What did you say?” Liam growled. “Who are you talking about?”

  The boy’s eyes were wide as he stammered his reply. “N-no one,” he squeaked. “J-just someone we know.”

  “Billy Button?” asked Liam through gritted teeth.

  The kid was shaking now. “I d-don’t know who that is.”

  Liam wasn’t having that. “Who put you up to this?” he snarled. “Who told you about Billy?”

  The kid’s mates had inched away from the lunatic from year nine. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the boy squeaked. “P-please! Let me go.”

  Another voice cut in. Familiar and close at hand.

  “Liam!”

  Chris pulled Liam away from the younger lad. “What are you doing?”

  The year seven kid grabbed his bag and ran, scrabbling to get away from Liam.

  Liam didn’t know what to say. Chris slapped him on the shoulder.

  “Seriously, mate. What’s with you today?”

  Liam shrugged. “It’s nothing, honest.”

  “Didn’t look like nothing to me. Since when have you picked on little kids?”

  “I don’t do that!” Liam insisted.

  “You sure about that?” Chris said, pointing down the corridor. “That boy looked really scared.”

  Liam opened his mouth to reply, but stopped himself. What would he say? He was talking about my imaginary friend. Yeah
, right. Chris would think he was bonkers.

  Perhaps he was.

  The bell rang.

  “Come on,” Chris said, gently shoving Liam towards the next class. “Let’s get going before you really get into trouble.”

  Glowering, Liam thrust his hands in his pockets.

  His fingers brushed against the plastic button.

  *

  Chris didn’t sit next to Liam in Geography. Instead he found a chair at the back of the class, next to Beverly Green. On any other day, Liam would have ribbed him about that.

  Chris and Beverly sitting in a tree…

  Chris would go bright red. Chris always went bright red when it came to girls – especially Bev.

  K-I-S-S-I-N-G.

  Not today. Liam didn’t feel like mucking about. He didn’t feel like doing anything. He tried to lose himself in his work, to forget about the year seven boy in the hallway. It was useless. Chris was right. The kid had been terrified. Because of him.

  What was wrong with him? He never acted like that. He hated bullies. Always had.

  It was Billy, Mum.

  Liam’s skin crawled as the thought crossed his mind. Now he was freaking himself out. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. His hands were clammy. Perhaps he was coming down with something. That would explain it. Loads of people had been off with a tummy bug.

  It would explain why he was feeling so weird.

  The bell rang. Lunchtime. Liam turned to Chris, but he was already gone.

  It didn’t matter. He’d see Chris in the dinner hall.

  But he didn’t. Chris was nowhere to be seen. Probably for the best. Liam didn’t feel like talking to anyone anyway.

  “Just get your lunch and get out of here,” he thought to himself.

  “Then what will we do?” a voice thought back.

  “Shut up, Billy,” Liam murmured as he slopped fruit salad into his bowl. He grabbed his tray from the serving hatch and looked for somewhere to sit.

  A shoulder barged into him as he turned. Angular. Hard. Liam was knocked from his feet, his tray clattering against the floor. The bowl of fruit salad smashed against the tiles.

  Liam jumped back up, looking for who’d knocked him over. There was no one there.

  One of the dinner ladies bustled over to him. “You all right, love? Oh, look at all that fruit. Such a waste.”

  “I’m fine,” Liam said, trying to ignore the feeling that everyone was staring at him for the second time that day. “Here, I’ll clear that – ”

  He bent down to pick up the broken bowl and froze.

  A face was looking at him through the dining hall’s large double doors. A face that was there one second, gone the next. Nothing more than a blur – but Liam recognised it immediately. The black hair. The bright eyes.

  The green skin.

  CHAPTER 3

  The writing on the whiteboard

  They wanted to send Liam home after that. After he’d screamed out in the middle of the dining hall. There were a lot of questions. Was he feeling all right? Why had he shouted? Who was Billy?

  Even Mr Newman had suddenly appeared by his side, as if by magic. “Do you need to sit down for a bit, Liam? You could go back to class, if you wanted? Where it’s quieter.”

  Liam shook his head. “No, sir. I-I just feel a little…”

  He didn’t know what to say.

  “Under the weather?” Mr Newman offered, trying to help. Liam nodded. “Well, see how you feel. Perhaps some fresh air will do you good.”

  Liam doubted it, but he did what he was told. He didn’t want any more fuss. Usually he’d head straight for the playing fields to kick a ball about.

  Not today. He found a tree and sat beneath the shadow of its branches, watching the other kids. Playing games on the basketball courts. Girls huddling beside the science block. Kids from year seven glancing nervously in his direction.

  But they were all real. He was real. No green boys. No ghosts of the past.

  And so it carried on for the rest of the day. Getting through the afternoon lessons, not really saying a word to anyone. Not even Chris. Not that his so-called mate came near. Chris was keeping his distance. Everyone was. Fine. He didn’t need them anyway.

  At three o’clock, Liam glanced at his watch. Nearly the end of school. About time. All he wanted to do was to get home, flop on the sofa and fire up the X-Box. Forget about everything else. Mum wouldn’t mind. She’d still have work to do. She might even get pizza delivered for tea. Tomorrow would be different. Tomorrow would be better.

  He didn’t even realise he was tapping the green button against his desk.

  Tap, tap, tap, tap.

  At the front of the class, his English teacher, Miss Granger, was writing on the whiteboard. It was something about poetry, but Liam wasn’t concentrating.

  The teacher turned back to the class, but the words kept appearing behind her. It wasn’t Miss Granger’s neat handwriting. The letters were big and untidy – like a little kid’s.

  Scrawled across the board.

  Remember me?

  Liam heard someone whimper. He didn’t even realise it was him. He was too busy watching more letters appear beneath the message.

  Two simple letters.

  B.B.

  Billy Button.

  That name. Following him everywhere. In the classrooms, in the playground, in the corridor. That face. Taunting him.

  Billy Button.

  Billy Button.

  Liam’s chest was tight. He couldn’t breathe. He needed to get out, to get away from the whiteboard. To get away from Billy.

  He stood up, his chair scraping against the floor.

  “Liam?” Miss Granger asked, her eyes narrowing. “What is it? Are you OK?”

  Liam laughed. Not like usual – this laugh was shrill, unfamiliar. The laugh of a crazy person. “Why’s everyone asking me that today? Are you OK, Liam? What’s wrong, Liam?”

  Miss Granger started walking towards his desk, concern written all over her face.

  “Everything’s wrong,” he yelled. “Everything!”

  “Calm down,” Miss Granger said, her voice strong, commanding. “There’s no need to shout.”

  “No need?” Liam replied, pointing to the front of the class. “Look on the board, miss. Look at it! Look at the words!”

  Miss Granger did as she was asked, shaking her head as she turned back to Liam. “You mean my notes? What about them?”

  “No, not them,” Liam said. “The message underneath. From him. From Billy.”

  “From who?”

  “Billy,” Liam yelled. “Billy Button. There!”

  Miss Granger’s tone hardened. “There’s nothing there, Liam.”

  “There is!” he insisted. He turned to Chris. “You can see it, can’t you Chris?”

  Chris shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “There’s nothing there, mate.”

  It felt like Chris had just punched Liam in the face. “You’re all in this together,” Liam said quietly. He turned back to Miss Granger. “You. Mr Newman. All of you.”

  Miss Granger tried to reason with him, but he wasn’t listening. The words on the board were changing in front of his eyes. Blurring. Liam blinked, trying to focus. Trying to read the message.

  I REMEMBER YOU!

  Liam screamed. A full-on, empty-your-lungs scream. Around him, his classmates tried to shuffle away from him on their chairs. Miss Granger shouted for him to calm down, telling one of the boys at the front of the class to get the head teacher. At the back of the room, someone sniggered.

  A snigger he hadn’t heard since the day he’d broken Mum’s vase.

  “It was Billy, Mum.”

  Not Liam. Always Billy. It was always Billy’s fault.

  Before he knew it, Liam was running. He bolted across the classroom, out into the corridor.

  He couldn’t hear anything else now. Not Miss Granger calling after him. Not his footsteps pounding against the floor. Just Billy’s laughter, loud
er and louder.

  He needed to get out, away from school. Away from everyone.

  But he wasn’t alone. Someone was running beside him, matching him step for step. Down the corridor. Out of the main doors. Towards the gates.

  Someone Liam couldn’t see, but knew was there.

  CHAPTER 4

  Bye-bye, Billy

  Liam didn’t stop running until he got home. He crashed through the front door, almost falling over the trainers Billy had left in the hall last night.

  No. Not Billy. Liam. Liam had left them. Billy wasn’t real.

  Liam’s mum was out of the kitchen in a heartbeat.

  “I told you to put those away…” She took one look at his sweat-drenched face. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

  Liam hated her calling him baby. He wasn’t a baby. He was five years old…

  No, not five, fifteen. He was fifteen. Of course he was.

  Why couldn’t he think straight? His skull felt like it was splitting in two.

  Liam sat down hard on the bottom step of the stairs. “Don’t feel good,” he stammered, feeling his mum’s cool hand on his brow.

  “You’re burning up.”

  He didn’t feel hot. He felt cold. Freezing.

  Mum cupped his face in her hands, checking his eyes as if she knew what she was doing. “Must be a virus. There’s a lot of it going about,” she said. She nodded to herself, pleased with her diagnosis. “Yeah, that’s got to be it.” She helped Liam back to his feet. “Get yourself up to bed. I’ll make you some soup.”

  “I’m not hungry,” Liam protested, but his mum wasn’t having any of it.

  “No arguments. You, bed, now!” she insisted and bustled back into the kitchen on a mission to find a can of chicken broth.

  Liam hauled himself up the bannisters, his head throbbing. Past the step where he’d played with Billy. Across the landing where they knocked that photo of Dad off the wall. Into his bedroom, where he’d used to read Billy The Beano by torchlight when they were supposed to be asleep.

  The window was open, cold air streaming into the room. Liam shivered as he pulled off his tie and shirt. He’d left his coat at school. His bag, too. Never mind. Chris would bring it round for him. Tomorrow. When everything was better.

  He threw the shirt onto a chair and sat down on the bed, struggling out of his trousers. Something fell from his pocket, rolling across the carpet.