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JOSIE
As I stroll into town, I feel like I’ve been transported back in time.
It doesn’t take long to get to the café. I haven’t been out and about since I got home, but now that my bruises have faded and I’m feeling semi-sane again, I thought it was time to venture out into the real world.
It’s busy—as expected, considering there are few other options around here. The café is buzzing with voices, the clattering of utensils, and furniture scraping against the faded lino flooring. There’s a collective intake of breath when I enter, the bell ringing like a foghorn announcement. With my tight-fitting top and mini skirt, I stand out like a sore thumb. My platinum hair shining under the lights is like a neon sign flashing above my head declaringI don’t belong here.
The server behind the counter not-so-subtly eyes me up and down, a look of distaste on her puffy face. Her ginger hair piled on top of her head looks rigid as if it hasn’t changed from that style in months.
“Visiting?” She chews gum obnoxiously. Bits of spit splatter onto the counter. “We don’t get too many visitors here. Not enough touristy things to do.” She says the word ‘touristy’ like it’s a curse. She shakes her head as if annoyed, even though I haven’t said anything yet.
“You don’t remember me?” I ask.
It took a moment for me to realise it’s Joanne Burnett under the puffy cheeks and dark freckles. She’s changed a lot since we last knew each other. She babysat me once. I bit her thumb and made her cry. She was twelve years older than me. It scored me some cool points back in the day.
She offers me a confused expression, tilting her head. “We’ve met before?”
“Josie?” I offer. “Josie Mayor?”
“Josephine!” she half-shrieks, gaining even more attention. “I didn’t … you look … wow,” she concludes, dumbfounded. “Your hair … and your …” I don’t know what body part she’s referring to next. Everything, probably.
“Josie, yeah,” I correct.
“Wow.” She shakes her head. “You’re back?”
“I guess so, yeah.”
“Staying with the folks?” She leans against the counter. I notice she has little tattoos dotted up her left arm in all different shapes and patterns. Tattoos were very taboo here once, so I got at least three inked across my skin within the first year of having left this place behind.
“Yeah. For now.”
“What have you been up to?”
“A lot.”
She pauses at my dull response, waiting for more, before quickly realising that’s all I am going to say.
“I married Angus,” she announces. “You remember him?”
Of course you did. In Fern Grove, you marry the first person you date because no one ever leaves.
“Yes, Angus. I remember. You’ve been together for a long time.”
“Got four little rugrats now too!”
“Four? Jesus.” I raise my eyebrows.
She looks offended for a moment at my tone, but it fades quickly.
“Well, anyway, great to see you.” She beams, and I’m a little surprised at that. I didn’t think anyone would say those words to me, especially not the first time they see that I’ve returned. Four years might seem like a lifetime, but in the world of small-town scandal, it’s not long. No one would have forgotten what happened. And why I left. “What can I get for you?”
The shop fills a little more while I wait for my coffee. I lounge against the counter and let my eyes roam over the pastries in the cabinet. It’s a pathetic display compared to what I’m used to, and I feel sad about all the great restaurants and bars I no longer have access to. I watch as a fly enters through the crack in the door and lands on one of the brownies. I cringe, turning away from it. I’m definitely not in the city.
Two girls I remember from school notice me. Or rather, I notice themgawkingat me. Their necks are bent, mouths whispering furiously, another girl craning to get a better look. Two boys are also sitting at the table, their backs to me.
I exhale, turning back to the cabinet. The fly has moved to one of the blueberry muffins. I had been thinking about ordering one and now quickly dismiss the thought.
“Is that really you?”
