Phoenix: The Beauty in Between (A Beautiful Series Companion Novel) (2 page)

I pick up my
phone and try to call the house again, but all I get is an engaged
signal. They’ve taken the phone off the hook.

“I KNOW YOU’RE
IN THERE!” I shriek. “YOU’RE COWARDS! YOU’RE ALL COWARDS!”

Scrunching the
note in my hands, I drop it on the ground in front of me, and
pocket the cash before hefting my bag over my shoulder. Then I
focus my breathing to calm down so I can make another call.

“Hey Mads,” I
say as cheery as possible. “Do you think I could crash at your
place tonight? I just got home, and I forgot my keys. The parentals
aren’t home so…”

“Hang on, I’ll
check with my mum,” she says immediately. I listen down the line as
she calls out to her mother and asks if I can sleep over.

Maddison is my
best friend. It’s been that way since kindergarten when someone got
paint on my school uniform, and I freaked out because I knew I
would be in trouble when I got home. Maddison gave me her uniform
because her mum wouldn’t care. She’s always had my back, and I knew
I’d be able to count on her to convince her mum to let me stay.

“Hey, mum says
it’s cool.”

“Awesome. I’ll
see you in twenty minutes,” I tell her, and disconnect the
call.

I place my
phone back in my bag and walk over to the garden tap, switching it
on to splash cool water over my face. Then I reposition my bag over
my shoulder and start walking towards Maddison’s house.

The whole way
there, I try to convince myself that this is just some
misunderstanding. Maybe tomorrow they’ll change their minds.

The moment I
arrive at Maddison’s, I hide my bag behind a bush at the side of
the house, before I knock on the front door and hope to god I don’t
look like I’ve been crying.

“Hi Paige,” her
mother says as she opens the door to me. “What's going on with your
parents? Aren’t they home?”

“Ah, no they
had to go out, and I forgot my key. It was really silly of me – I
knew they wouldn’t be there though. I just had a bit of a brain
malfunction,” I tell her nervously.

Her eyes search
my face as I hold my breath, praying that she will stop there. I
don’t know how much longer I can pretend to be ok. “Alright,” she
says finally. “Just make sure you give them a call to let them know
where you are.”

“Thanks Mrs
Bier. I’ll do that,” I say, as she moves to the side and grants me
entry.

“Mum, give her
a break,” Maddison calls out, as she walks toward me. “She just
needs a place to crash, so she doesn’t have to wait around in the
cold all night.” Grabbing me by the hand, she pulls me down the
hallway and away from her mother. “Sorry about her. She’s a bit
pissy ‘cause I asked for a sleepover on a school night.”

“It’s cool. I
don’t mind,” I assure her, as she clicks the door of her bedroom
shut behind us and leans against it.

“So, what's
really going on with your parents?”

“Nothing, I
really did forget my keys,” I assure her.

Her left eye
narrows as she looks at me. “Come on Pay, I’ve known you since
kindergarten. You have a look on your face that tells me that
something else is going on.”

“Mads, I’m
fine ok. I’m just tired, and I want to crash. I'll go home in the
morning. I won’t be in your hair for too long.”

“Paige, don’t
be like that. If I had my way, we’d be sisters. I’m just trying to
talk to you. You seem upset. Did you and your mum have another
fight or something?”

“She doesn’t
talk to me long enough to fight these days. Listen, I’m sorry to be
such a drag, but I really just want to go to sleep. Is that
ok?”

I notice the
worried look on her face as she pushes herself back off the door
and nods her head. She exits her room then returns with some spare
bedding and a camping mattress, which I relieve her of immediately
and help her set up my temporary bed.

She flicks on
the TV in her room and sits on her own bed while I lay down on mine
and pretend to sleep. I don’t want to talk. I don't want to re-live
any part of this night. I just want to sleep.

Unfortunately,
sleep is the last thing I’m able to do. Every time I close my eyes
the night keeps playing over and over in my head, causing silent
tears to stream steadily from my eyes and wet my pillow.

Eventually,
when I’m too exhausted to stay away awake, I drift off.

***

“
Mum! Dad!”
I shout through a crowd of people. They’re blocking my way, and I’m
trying to get to my family.

Digging my
elbows into people and pushing my way through, I manage to make it
within an arm's length. “Mum!” I call again, reaching out to touch
her.

She looks over
her shoulder at me and frowns before tapping my father on the
shoulder and indicating that I’m there.

He looks at
me. The way his eyes scan my face makes me feel like something
you’d pick out of your shoe with a stick. I stop walking. I know
I’m not wanted.

The crowd once
again engulfs me like a sea of people moving in different
directions. They knock against me and swear at me, because I’m
stopped and in their way.

But I don’t
move. I stay there, watching. I see my parents heads move further
and further away. My eyes burn and my chest aches. How could they
do this to me?

The heaving of
my own sobs are what wake me up. I sit upright, breathing heavily
as I look around the room to get my bearings. Maddison is still
sleeping soundly. She’s always been hard to wake up once she was
out.

Sitting in the
dark and the quiet of the room, I can’t escape my thoughts. I lay
back down with my pillow over my head and just cry. What am I
supposed to do now? I can’t sleep over with friends forever.

One question
keeps playing through my mind, over and over – what did I do
wrong?

At 6am, my
tears have dried up, and I’m tired of feeling sorry for myself.
Throwing my covers back, I get up and move over to the desk,
writing a note to tell Maddison that I'm going home to get ready
for school.

As I slip
quietly out of the house, I retrieve my bag from the bushes and
really do head home. I figure my parents would still be home at
this hour, and I want to try to talk to them. Surely, they can’t be
serious.

When I arrive,
the lights are all out, and it looks like no one is there. I walk
around the perimeter of the house and try all the windows and once
again; I try my keys. I start hunting around the garden, looking
for a fake rock and search under mats and pot plants, hoping to
happen upon a key that I didn’t know existed. But there’s
nothing.

Eventually,
the frustration gets too much for me. I pick up a rock from the
garden and throw it through the window. The loud smash of the glass
echoes through the quiet of the morning, and even louder still is
the sound of the alarm. An alarm we didn’t have 24 hours ago.

Do they
really want me gone that much?
I think disbelievingly, as I
hitch my bag on my shoulder and get out of there. Soon after, a car
from the security company is driving up our street. I keep walking
and keep my head down. I don’t want to risk being arrested right
now. I’m pretty sure my parents wouldn’t bother coming to get me if
I was.

For the rest
of the day, I walk. There is nowhere else I know of to go. I can’t
visit a friend, because they’re all at school, and I certainly
can’t go home. I end up sitting in a park, rocking back and forth
on a swing.

It’s here that
it finally hits me.

I’m
homeless.

Six months
earlier

“
What do you
mean you can’t trust me?!” my mother yells in the other room.
“Haven’t I proven myself enough for you?”

My parents are
fighting again.

“
You ruined
that trust years ago Susan!” my father bellows back.

I tuck my
knees into my chest and try to keep very quiet. If I move and they
see me, I’ll get dragged into this fight too. I don’t know why she
does it. But when she’s angry at Dad, she’s angry at me too.

Adam and
Sophie look over at me. “I don’t think they can see you,” my
brother whispers. They know this happens, but no one saves me. No
one stops her. I guess they’re scared of going against her and
becoming me. I don’t really blame them.

Trying to shut
out the sounds of their yelling, I focus on the television. I can
see the characters on the screen moving and talking. However, I
can’t hear anything besides the angry raised voices in the next
room and the thumping of my heart.

When the door
bursts open, I suck in my breath. Adam and Sophie glance at me, but
keep their focus on the television.

“
You’re an
arsehole Oliver! I'm sick and tired of this,” my mother yells
before coming to a stop beside me. I think she actually came
looking for me. “And you!” she says, pointing her finger in my
face. “You’re no better!”

“
I swear
mum. I haven’t done anything. I’ve just been sitting here. I wasn’t
even listening,” I ramble. When my mother gets into these moods,
her tirades can go on for hours.
Please don’t do this,
I beg
her internally.

When her hand
draws back, my brother and sister take their cue and leave the room
quietly, just before the loud slap fills the room when her hand
connects with my face.

Tears sting my
eyes as heat radiates off my face, but I refuse to cry. For a
while, I actually fight back, trying to convince her that I haven’t
done anything. That she doesn’t need to keep yelling at me.

But she
doesn’t listen, and I run out of fight.

Eventually, I
have nothing left to do but cry and listen, as she tells me every
single thing that she finds wrong, or insulting about me.

As I look at
her twisted, angry face, I can only imagine that she hates me. I
don’t know why. Although I wish I did. I could fix it if I knew. I
could be a better daughter.

Hours later,
she’s repeated herself at least ten times, and she’s run out of
steam. I’ve been grounded – again. For the life of me, I can’t tell
you why…

“Where were you
at school today?” Maddison asks me over the phone. “Your note said
you were going home to get ready. What happened?”

I’m sitting on
the front step of my house, waiting to see if a member of my family
is going to come home. They must be here somewhere. The window I
broke earlier is already fixed, so they can’t be far.

I figure that
if I can just make them talk to me, then they’ll have to let me
back in. I don’t care if they ignore me. I just want somewhere to
live until I’m old enough to go to university. I know that if they
let me, then I can stay out of their way. I can make it work.

The thought of
having to survive on my own scares the living shit out of me. I
don’t want to be a homeless teen. I don’t know how to be a homeless
teen.

“I wasn’t
feeling well,” I lie as I keep my eyes focused on the street and
watch for some sign of their return.

She tries to
move on with the conversation and starts telling me about how one
of our friends was trying to get the attention of a boy two years
ahead of us. I’m only half listening. I’ve got bigger things to
worry about.

“Listen Mads?”
I interrupt. “Do you think your mum would let me stay over again
tonight?”

“Um… I doubt
it. Not after last night. But I can ask. Why? What’s going on?”

“Nothing
really. I’m just locked out again.”

“Pay.
Something’s wrong. I can hear it in your voice.”

My phone
signals that it has a low battery. “I’m fine. Don’t worry. I’m sure
they’ll be back soon,” I say, and end the call.

Diligently, I
wait until the sky grows dark over my head, and the street lights
turn on. I decide to make another phone call, this time to Ramona.
I use the same story I used last night – I forgot my keys, can I
stay over because my parents won’t be home until late. Yes, they
know I’m here. No, it won’t happen again.

I use this as
the excuse until I run out of friends. Then I go back to the
beginning and make up a new one. Each night, I’m afraid they won’t
believe me. I don’t know how long I can do this before they start
saying ‘no’.

As time moves
on, I spend a lot of it reflecting on my life so far. Looking back,
I can’t really think of a time when my parents actually seemed
happy to have me around.

I have a vague
memory of my mother hugging me when I was very small, but I don’t
know if it’s real, or if I created it after witnessing her care for
my siblings.

Interactions
between myself and my father were practically non-existent. He
spoke to me only when it was absolutely necessary, and then it was
mainly grunts and barked orders.

My mother, on
the other hand – well she made sure to keep tabs on me.

I find it
strange, because she wasn’t as strict with my older brother, Aaron,
and my younger sister, Sophie. They seemed to have a lot of leeway
and were allowed to stay out late and go out more than I was.

When I
questioned this, I was told it was because I didn’t do as well at
school as they did. Or that they were allowed out because their
sporting team had done well. I suck at school, and I suck at
sports.

The truth is,
I’m the black sheep of my family – literally. I mean, I don’t even
look like them. I’ve often thought that perhaps I was adopted, but
I have seen photos of when my mum gave birth to me. In the photo,
she and dad are both looking down at a tiny baby with masses of
dark hair.

They were
smiling in that photo. So they must have loved me once…

I think I must
be some sort of genetic throwback. My entire family are fair
haired, blue eyed, and fair skinned. My looks are more
Mediterranean. I have olive skin, hazel eyes and dark curly hair. I
don’t fit in at all.