“Yes,” I lie.
“That’s so fucked up,” Conner breathes. “Does your mum ever try to call the police?”
“She’s in denial,” I say while shaking my head. “Sometimes, I wonder if he’s holding something over her, and that’s why she’s afraid.”
Lowering my focus to my lap, my hands tighten. I’m afraid, too. I’m fearful of the consequences. The fear that no one will listen, so when Dad comes home, he will tower over my bed, his hands reaching for my throat, punishing me far worse. And I can’t leave. I can’t run without him finding me. There’s no way out for me, and the gnawing sadness is overwhelming. RealisingI had dragged Conner into my mess, knowing very well that I couldn’t follow.
“You turn eighteen soon,” Conner says, and I stiffen, eyeing him. “You can do whatever you want once you’re eighteen. You’re legally allowed to leave home.” He leans back, his hands pressing into the mattress. “We can get an apartment together or something. You aren’t a minor anymore. You don’t have to stay in that toxic situation,”—he eyes me—“unless you want to, to protect your mum.”
I shake my head. “For some time now, I’ve realised that some people can’t see themselves outside of a terrible relationship. They don’t look to save themselves or the others around them. They want to stay.” I bite my cheek, chewing the inside. I feel sick. “So, as much as I hate myself for doing this, I need to save myself.” I turn to him, my hands clutching his arm. “When I’m eighteen, let’s travel the country and sell our art together. I will need to save up money. I don’t want to be a burden.”
“Your art is amazing,” Conner says, making me smile. “People will buy your art in a heartbeat. But I still want to graduate. And I know you want to graduate, too. I’ve seen you in the library, buried in Ancient History books, doing assessments.”
Heat flushes my face.
“Why don’t we get an apartment together first? Finish school, and then we will travel the world after you graduate from Year Twelve.”
“You don’t think we will be moving in too quickly? My birthday is three weeks away, and by then, we’ll have only known each other for a little over a month.”
“I don’t think so,” he disagrees. “I mean, to some people, it may seem like that, but that’s because they don’t know us like we know each other.”
I smile warmly. “You’re right,” I breathe.
He leans into me and says, “Great. I’ll get my apartment set up for us.”
My eyes widen. “What?”
“For my eighteenth birthday, Mum and Dad bought me an apartment across town, near the university.” He breathes a bitter laugh. “It’s the biggest hint of the century that they wanted me to attend university. So, when I said I didn’t want to, it came as a surprise because they had already planned a place for me to live off-campus.”
“Do you…live there now?”
“No,” he answers. “When I told Mum and Dad that I didn’t want to go to university, they took the keys from me and told me I could get them back if I went to uni. But with our new plan, I think I can compromise with them.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ll go to university for twelve months and assign myself to courses that don’t last more than that year. Then, with the money we would have saved up from work—I’ll go back to The Ark—we can start our adventure. Our fairy tale of an ending.”
“Conner.” My hands tighten, and I nod a few times. “Okay.” I laugh—a mixture of nervousness and excitement. “Let’s do this. Let’s move in together.”
We kiss, the excitement bubbling inside us.
I can see it. It is a hint, but enough to know that the front door I thought Dad bolted shut is coming undone. I stand there, an iron bar in my hands, ready to break apart the door and free myself.
I can do this…wecan do this. At the end of every tunnel, there’s a light, and mine seems to shine more brightly now.
I can finally see my future unfold, and I’m nervous but excited to see where it will take me.
37
STAND UP
Dad came home earlier tonight.At eight, I left Mrs Crawford’s place, where she pretended to be my nan. I waited until Conner left, spoke to Mrs Crawford, thanked her unconditionally for letting me stay, before heading home. When it hit nine-thirty, Dad entered the house. I glare at the gap between the floor and the door. His shadow moves past, and he goes into the bathroom. I hear the shower come on.
Closing my eyes, I sigh in relief. The card must have had enough money. I had to take more than I wanted to put into my other card for the electricity bill. Luckily, I changed it before the due date, or else Dad might have spent the money I needed, leaving us without power.
Clutching my phone, I close my eyes and think about my future, about saving myself, until I drift into a peaceful sleep.
In the car with Conner,we speak about moving in. I know it seems too fast, for I barely know him. What if he’s messy? No, he washed up his cup at Mrs Crawford's, and this car is alwaysclean, even though we often eat in it. I’ll more than likely be the messy one. My room is a bombsite, with clothes sprawled on the floor.