The phone vibrates, and I catch my breath. Andy’s name appears. My thumb hovers over the “end call” button before I tap the green button and rest the phone to my ear.
“Hello,” I whisper.
20
NEW BEGINNINGS
“Hey,”Andy breathes. “I’ve been trying to reach you all day. Where have you been?”
“Out with Conner,” I answer.
“Oh…” There’s a hint of bitterness before Andy clears his throat. “Uh, I was calling to apologise for my behaviour.”
“Okay…”
“I was a, uh…dick. I shouldn’t have punched Conner. It’s just that he’s so cocky, and he gets under my skin with how he thinks he’s better than everyone around him.The Ace.”
You’re wrong,I think, but I keep my mouth shut. Arguing is pointless.
“Anyway, what you said hit hard. I’m sorry, Noya. Do you forgive me?”
“Sure—as long as you don’t do it again, or get upset when I hang out with Conner.”
“I promise. Scouts honour!”
I smile slightly.
“What are you doing?” he says.
“Lying in bed,” I answer. “You?”
“Ah…I need to finish the rest of my assignment tonight to hand it in on Wednesday. My parents are super strict with my grades now, and it’s pissing me off.” Andy groans irritably. “Why can’t they get off my back for once? I can’t wait to fucking leave this place.”
My grip on the phone tightens, and I glare at the still fan on the ceiling. Part of me wants to tell me he shouldn’t be so hard on his parents. It means they care for him, and he should be grateful he has parents who want him to be something more in life.
But before I can say anything, he breathes a dramatic sigh and tells me he will see me at school tomorrow. Once he hangs up, I rest my phone against my stomach and gaze at the ceiling before a light tap comes to my door and causes me to jolt.
Mum leans against it with a strained smile. I’m not used to not having a door. It freaks me out that Dad could enter whenever he pleases, and there is no door between us.
The one safe space in this house is gone because there’s no door.
“There’s pasta in the pot if you’re hungry.”
I roll over and face away from her as I clutch my phone. “I’ve already eaten.”
“Oh…Sorry to bother you.”
Closing my eyes, I suppress the unwarranted sadness.
She wasn’t bothering me by talking to me. And if she hadn’t said what she said earlier, I’d have replayed this conversation in my mind, believing we were making progress and communicating.
I’d have taken her up on the offer of a pasta, even knowing my stomach is still sore from all the food I ate. I would have leapt at the chance to talk to Mum more.
But how can I do that now with knowing she only does it out of guilt rather than affection? How can I look at her without feeling like my insides are about to split?
How?
I can’t.