Page 83 of Unapologetic Love Story

Her voice had quivered as she spoke. ‘I don’t want anything. From anyone. I just needed a name.’

‘Well, you’ve got one. And listen, it might get easier when you get older. Once you’re out of senior school. Your impairment affects you in social and occupational areas and that makes school . . . uncomfortable. I appreciate that. But things might improve.’

Raina had stared at the peeling grey wall of the office. ‘Really?’

‘Yes! Lots of people like you hold down small jobs these days. Quite happy little workers, sometimes. If you can find something away from other people, you can toil away with that hyper-focus. Employers will love that. They’ll be looking for people who don’t care about making friends.’

‘I . . .’ Raina had felt as if a chord that connected her speech to her brain was finally breaking, after years of frailty. She couldn’t recall a script that would suit in this instance. She couldn’t put the twisting, churning feeling inside of her into words that would please this medical professional. ‘Maybe I could just be normal? Like everyone else. Now that I know.’

There had been begging in her voice.

Dr Griffin cleared his sinuses once again, managing to make it sound like a dismissal of her words. ‘You’re not going to live life like other girls your age, Raina. Without the ability to follow cues and interact with your peers, you’re always going to be different. They’re able to sense it. I think you know that already.’

It was everything she’d been afraid of.

‘Now, I’m writing everything down in a document for you,’ he went on to say, speaking slowly. ‘We’ve discussed a lot of it already, but my observations and professional diagnosis will be in the report. Shall we get Mum back in?’

Her mother had needed a moment. The memory was a bad taste in Raina’s mouth. She closed her eyes, recalling what came after.

They’d been walking to the car, her mother dawdling to speak with Joyce, one of her nurse friends. Joyce was the one who’d suggested they seek diagnosis.

‘At least now you know, Meggie,’ Joyce had said in a voice full of too-sweet syrup. ‘It’s good to know what you’re dealing with, that’s what I always say. You’ve been pointing it out since she was tiny. Now you know you weren’t imagining things.’

‘I just didn’t know girls could have it,’ Raina’s mother had said dazedly.

‘You still have Solana,’ Joyce had consoled her. ‘She’s perfect, that one. Like a little doll.’

Raina stood by the car. She slid her fingers under the door handle and pulled at it rapidly, though it refused to open. ‘Can we go now, Mum?’

‘Wait, Raina,’ snapped Meggie, all warmth vanishing. ‘Don’t be rude, I’m talking.’

Raina had been reminded of those old films, where the hero was trapped in a room that was filling up with water. Where the walls were closing in, spikes coming down from up above.

She was frozen, unable to escape.

And no one was watching. Nobody cared.

She looked up and over her mother’s old Saab. On the other side of the car park, a girl was standing on her boyfriend’s feet and they were laughing while attempting a waltz. He kept kissing her nose to make her laugh harder.

They don’t feel love. Or empathy. Not the way normal people do. They’re sort of locked inside their own little world. They often won’t have room for other people.

Stupid mermaid trying to walk on land with the humans.

And suddenly Raina hadn’t been able to breathe.

She’d pulled so violently on the car door, it almost snapped away.

‘All right, all right!’ barked Meggie, marching to her side of the car. ‘For God’s sake, we’re going. It’s unlocked. Don’t have another one of your conniptions.’

Joyce and the young couple were soon far in the distance as Meggie drove from the clinic back to their house in Woodstock.

‘You’re bloody hard work sometimes,’ Meggie had said bitterly, turning her windscreen wipers on with an aggressive flick. ‘That diagnosis wasn’t cheap either. And don’t go thinking it’s going to magically give you an easy go of it. Or an excuse. You can’t be a victim, Raina; you have to go about life the same as everyone else.’

Raina’s tank had been empty. Her battery shot. She had nothing left to give.

‘And if you ask me,’ her mother went on, ‘I think this is a path to real unhappiness. I do. You won’t find success. And you can forget about finding love.’

‘Mum, I need to get out.’