Finding Home (13 page)

I decided honesty really was the best policy on this occasion and hastily scribbled down ‘yes’ before I could change my mind.

Coral grabbed the paper once more. She turned away from me, hunched over it, so I couldn’t see what she was writing. My heart was pounding so loud I was sure she could hear it
thump, thump, thump
, echoing in the back of my mouth.

Why?

That was it? Why? Not what did you do, how long for, and was anybody else there? These were the sort of questions I’d imagined a jealous girlfriend would ask.

I looked at Coral, but she was focused on the front of the room. Her eyes were glassed over, still veined with red, but that wasn’t the alarming thing; her whole body was shaking, very subtly, but shaking nonetheless.

I remembered Luke’s words about Coral’s English insecurities and immediately felt horrible again. How could I have hurt someone like that, even if they’d already been mean to me?

We had some stuff to talk about for our Music group. Can we get back to work now?

I hoped the answer would be enough to sate her curiosity and get her focused on the task at hand.

She took the note off me, staring at it for a long time. I saw her notebook was on the table, ready to go.
Just open it
, I silently ordered.
Pick it up, open it, let it go and move on
.

I guess it was wishful thinking. 3 minutes and 48 seconds later (I counted) the paper came hurtling to a stop in front of me once more.

Listen, bitch: I don’t want you to speak to him or come near him, in Music or outside of it. You’re way out of his league; who’d want to be with a dog-ugly nerd like you, anyway?

The words cut at me a little, but I managed to remain calm. Luke would want to be with someone like me, I told myself. That’s who.

‘Isn’t this nice?’ Dad asked before taking a sip from a tall glass of cola.

I couldn’t believe I was here. The week had passed all too quickly with no further Luke interaction, leaving me devastated. He needed time, and I was going to be patient and wait, knowing that good things were to come.

It was now Saturday, and I was seated on a high stool that left just enough room for me to swing my legs. Dad sat opposite me at the table. The room we were in was so dark that I almost couldn’t see my drink in front of me. Onstage, people were moving things about: speakers, drums, and microphones.

‘Seems a bit like being on the road again, if you ask me,’ I finally replied.

‘You used to love coming to gigs with me!’ Dad said.

I didn’t say anything
. No, I used to love going to gigs with you and Mum. Hanging out with you and Mum. But obviously you don’t remember that, do you? Back when it was fun. Before you became a ‘rock star.’

‘So, tell me, are you enjoying school?’ Dad asked, changing tack. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

Groups of girls were starting to look our way, and I knew it would only be a matter of time before the autograph requests started. At least this was an over-18 venue, with a band I had only vaguely heard of before. While my Dad had no qualms about sneaking me in, I was willing to bet that the other kids from school wouldn’t be lucky enough to gain admittance — and I used the term ‘lucky’ very loosely.

‘It’s fine. It’s school.’ I shrugged, playing with my straw.

‘So, any boys on the scene?’

‘Excuse me! Can I grab your autograph?’ An indie-looking rock chick had walked up to the table. She was hovering near Dad’s shoulder, napkin in hand and lipstick at the ready. She looked way too cool to like his embarrassing soft pop music.

‘Sure. Who do I make it out to?’ Dad asked, taking the brightly coloured tube from her hand and starting to scribble on the flimsy serviette she’d placed in front of him. I hated the fact that even now he’d choose any old distraction over spending time with me. Still, at least it got me out of an awkward conversation.

‘It’s not for me,’ the woman explained. ‘It’s for my little sister, Kayla, and then one for my mum, Liz.’

I smirked. Figured. ‘I’m going to grab another drink.’ I stood up, hoping that by the time I came back, the girl would be gone and the band would have started. This was excruciating.

I walked up to the bar and shouted my order over the din to the black-shirted back of a guy behind the bar.

‘Two tequila shots, a double bourbon and coke, and a bourbon and coke, thanks.’

‘Can I see some ID?’ asked a slightly bemused voice. The back pulled away from the fridge and met my gaze. It was Nick. Nick who I’d managed to avoid since he’d asked me out. Nick who, once he saw my father and I, would no doubt start all sorts of rumours and tell everyone about my embarrassing family and ruin everything.

‘Oh, um, don’t worry about it.’ I shrugged and started to walk off. How could I get out of here without drawing attention to the fact that I was with Dad?

‘Amy!’ He called out. I looked around and saw he was grinning. He leaned over the bar mat, coming in close to my face.

‘I won’t tell if you won’t,’ Nick said, as he winked and started pouring the drinks. ‘How’d you even get in without ID, anyway?’ He was just making conversation, but I knew I would have to think quickly if I wanted to avoid getting sprung.

‘I’m friends with some of the bands playing tonight,’ I replied. Okay, so it wasn’t a complete lie.

‘Oh, really? Who do you know? Some of them tonight aren’t half bad,’ he said, placing the bourbons on the counter.

‘Well, I know a few guys in the support band,’ I lied.

‘Really? Cool. I love them.’ With care and precision, he chopped up two wedges of lemon to go with my shots, ensuring each slice was identical in size. Then he turned. ‘Mel!’ he yelled toward an open door on the left side of the bar. ‘I’m on break!’

‘Yep!’ a female voice called back as a hand in the thumbs-up position waved out the mysterious opening. Nick slung a tea towel over his shoulder and put the shots, lemon wedges, and a can of cola on a tray and smiled at me.

‘Come on,’ he said, ‘I’ll get you the bourbons later.’ I shouldn’t have gone. I really should have said no. But something about him — maybe the fact he was older, sexy and interested — made me follow him to an outdoor area just to the right of the room. It was nice to have someone paying attention to me, especially since Luke and I had kept missing each other at lunchtime lately.

It was a small courtyard with a few cursory palms and two tables. Different to the flashy interior, it was clear this area was an afterthought that was introduced to appease the smokers.

‘So, you’re obviously 18?’ I asked. It was weird to think that a guy I went to school with worked behind a bar.

‘You know it,’ he replied, lining up the shots so that they were ready to go. ‘Lick.’ He instructed me, holding out the salt. I obediently licked the little space on the back of my hand and held it out for him to pour on. Something about having my hand so close to his…I looked into his eyes and he was staring right at me. I felt shaken to the bone.

I licked my hand, careful to keep my eyes on what I was doing, and then knocked back the shot of tequila. After the initial reflex gag, it felt good, instantly warming up my body.

‘Are you having both of the shots tonight?’ Nick asked as he placed the salt shaker on the counter.

‘Oh, you can have one, if you want,’ I explained. I realised that I hadn’t even paid him for the drinks yet. ‘And I’ll give you cash for this when we go back inside.’

‘Amy, we’ll sort it out, don’t worry,’ Nick said, brushing my apology off. ‘I haven’t even got you those bourbon and cokes yet.’

‘So, doesn’t this mean you’re kinda old for our year?’ I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me. ‘Did you repeat a year?’ Oh my God. Had I really just asked that? When did I get so rude?! ‘Not that there would be anything wrong with that…’

Shovel, Amy. Dig a little deeper.

‘
Straight up! Wow. You’re pretty blunt,’ Nick said, laughing. ‘As a matter of fact, I got held back. When I was younger, my dad passed away, so Mum and I took a year off life and went travelling together.’

The words resonated long after he’d finished saying them. No wonder Mr Davison had said we’d have a lot in common. I’d never met another person my age who’d lost a parent. Sure, many of their folks had divorced, and there were a few sets of step and half family members, but I didn’t know anyone else who’d had a dead mum or dad.

I wanted to know more. I forgot all about my plans to drink and get out of there. Instead, I was thirsty for knowledge, and he had all the answers — and the alcoholic beverages.

‘I’m so sorry,’ I said. ‘How long ago?’

‘Five years,’ he replied. His face was serious, but there was no glassing over of the eyes, no sign of him squashing down a ball of pain like I had. Five years. Five years of hurting, suffering and hating. How’d he done it? How had he survived so long?

‘Do you still…hurt?’ I asked, slowly. He looked up at me from under some seriously long lashes. His eyes flashed darker, a shade more intense.

‘Every single day.’ Nick paused. ‘There’s not a day I don’t think of him. The worst is when you dream. You dream you’re together, just hanging out, mucking around, whatever. And then you wake up and you think, “Shit, I gotta tell Dad about the dream I just had.” And then you remember.’

The words resonated deep within me. I couldn’t believe he felt that way, too.

I hated it. The grief counsellors don’t tell you about the recurring pain. They advise you to avoid the shops and things around Mother’s Day, to treat yourself to something special on that person’s birthday, to commemorate and avoid the direct impact of pain wherever possible until you feel ready to manage it.

No one tells you that you’ll dream about her every night. And that every morning, for a few moments, you’ll think life is normal. It’s only then that your world comes crashing down and the pain starts all over again.

I flashed back to reality and found myself staring at Nick. He seemed to sense me watching him and kept speaking, shaken from his reverie.

‘But you get through it. And I still miss him, but it just doesn’t sting anymore, you know?’ I didn’t. I didn’t know, but I wanted to. Oh, boy, did I want to. ‘Anyway, enough of the pity party. Are you ready for that second shot?’ Nick’s eyes were twinkling again.

I nodded and obediently held out my hand. This time, when he poured, he touched my hand to steady it. It felt warm — warm and stable. I so badly wanted to tell him everything. I felt like maybe he would understand, that he would get it.

‘You’re ready,’ he announced, releasing my fingers from his grasp. The world suddenly felt less steady.

I licked the salt off my hand, meeting Nick’s eyes as I did. I saw something flash through them, and I felt a burn run through me, much deeper than that I was getting from the tequila I’d thrown back.

My eyes drifted across the table, from my empty shot glass, up to his arm, over his tattoo, and up to his intense blue eyes.

‘Well, I should be getting back,’ Nick said, breaking the moment and our connection. He looked uncomfortable as he stood up and wiped his hands on his pants.

I was relieved he’d said it. I was Luke’s now; I’d given myself to him. I couldn’t be having weird moments with other guys, no matter how much we had in common. I stood up and followed Nick back into the bar.

‘Anyway, did you see that new pop singer Stevie D or whatever his name is? He happens to be in the club tonight.’ Nick started to laugh as he walked back behind the bar.

My heart sunk. I had to get out of there, fast.

‘Oh, really? I haven’t heard of him,’ I choked out and grabbed my wallet, taking some bills out and throwing them down on the counter in front of him.
Where’s the emergency exit?

Nick poured two bourbon and cokes for me and placed them on the bar, pushing my money back towards me. I ignored him, taking the two glasses in my hand and turned to leave, eager to get back to the darkness and Dad.

‘Amy,’ he said, ‘before you go, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.’

I don’t care, Nick. Just stop talking to me!

‘
I shouldn’t have given you shit at Ashley’s,’ he was saying. I backed away, barely listening. ‘I know you wouldn’t really hit on a loser like Luke, and you had every right to be pissed at me for thinking otherwise.’

There was that guilt again, streaking through me like a rocket.

‘It’s fine, Nick,’ I smiled. ‘Anyway, I gotta go, so have a good night!’ I tried to sound carefree, but I’d never felt so fake or forced in my life.

‘Don’t look now, but the lame singer dude is coming over,’ Nick said, wiggling his eyebrows and winking at me conspiratorially.

I turned around, but there was nowhere to run. Dad was standing right in front of me. I tried to push past him, but it was no use.

‘Sweetheart, you took forever. Do you need me to vouch for her ID-wise?’ Dad asked Nick.
Oh God. Oh no, no, no, no, no.
My heart sunk. My life was ruined.

Nick’s eyes met mine. He looked confused; curious, even. I shrugged. There was really nothing more to say.

‘The coke is for her, the bourbon for me,’ Dad continued.
I want to die. Please ground, just swallow me up.

‘That’s fine, I figured. I know her from school, anyway,’ Nick said, ignoring the fact that both of the drinks he’d poured contained alcohol. At least that was one hurdle clear for the night.

‘All right then, ‘Dad said. ‘Come on, Ames, let’s go watch some music.’ He swung his arm around my shoulder as we walked back to the table.

This wasn’t happening to me. Nick knew. Oh my God, Nick knew! Soon everyone at school would know. Coral would know and she’d tease the hell out of me. Lily would know and wonder why I hadn’t told her.

Luke would know. I hoped what we had was strong enough for him to withstand the humiliation I was about to endure.

‘Dad, you really embarrassed me back there!’ I hissed when we’d taken our seats. ‘How could you?’

‘How could I what? I offered to buy you a drink. I didn’t realise that was a crime!’ His brow was furrowed again, like it always seemed to be around me.