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I can’t sleep. I can’t help him. He just smiles at me whenever I ask if he’s okay, and the only time we talk is before I leave for school and he says, ‘Choose happiness, Frankie.’
I’m sure one day I’ll understand what he means.
I pick up my phone again. Doubt creeps in, but it doesn’t matter what I tell him; it’s not like I’ll ever meet him.
Me:Can I tell you something?
His reply comes twenty minutes later.Hello, my cucumber friend.
Me:I have to be up for school in two hours. Can you stay up and talk to me until I fall asleep? It’s so loud here.
Kai:Where are you?
Me:In my bed??
Kai:Why’s it loud?
Me:My parents argue a lot.
Kai:Are you alright?
I close my eyes and press my face into my pillow for a moment.No, not really. I mean, I’m okay, but I just feel helpless. I feel like there’s something I should be doing, and as much as I hate my mum for the things she says to my dad, I still love her. I love both my parents. When I do nothing, I hurt my dad, but if I did something about it, I’d hurt my mum.
As soon as I send it, I realise I’ve already chosen.
Kai:It’s not your job to try and solve their problems, Tess. They should know better than to argue like that when you’re in the house. Pressure like that should never be placed on a child, no matter the situation.
Kai:What is your ideal future? Like, if you could picture a perfect life, what would it look like?
Kai:Don’t hold back on me;)
Me:I want to live in a forest. Not like a crazy hermit woman, but in, like, a massive log cabin with a glass roof so I can hear the rain. And I want an entire walk-in wardrobe dedicated to cardigans. And a library with a ladder. And I really want a brown cat because I love animals. On a more achievable note, I actually really want to be a zoologist.
Kai:Aren’t those other things achievable?
I bite my lip.In another life. For another person.
Kai:I don’t see why you can’t have the treehouse or whatever, or the library with a ladder. I’ll admit, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a brown cat, but that doesn’t mean they don’t exist. And just because you can’t see yourself achieving any of those things right now, it doesn’t mean you won’t. It doesn’t mean you can’t. Life is a mountain, and dreams come true for those who climb it; it’s hard, and sometimes you want to turn around because it gets too much, and sometimes you look up at what you have to climb and realise you’re not even halfway, but if you keep thinking at how much there is to go instead of looking at where you put your feet, you’ll never reach the summit. You have to want it, and you have to focus on the now, otherwise you’ll live for the future instead of the present, and by then you’re not even living.
Kai:Wow, I’m soooo high.
I laugh. But then I instantly feel terrible, because my dad is still crying.
We talk until the birds begin to chirp outside, and the sun streams through my window. We talk about nothing and everything, about hopes and dreams and our favourite foods. He wants to do autograss racing, but he doesn’t get angry when I get it mixed up with rally driving. He has a secret love for building things; he’s even built his own computer, which I’m super impressed about. And he has a passion for playing the guitar, which he keeps from his friends because they’ll laugh at him. And—and I may have gasped at this—he has a blue-tongued skink.
When he asks about my interests, I realise I don’t have any. I enjoy reading, but I don’t do that anymore. I’ve wanted to take up pottery for a while, but I don’t have money to pay for classes. And sometimes I crawl out my bedroom window and sit on the porch roof to feel rebellious for a moment. And when I get pocket money, I buy cardigans from charity shops. I just love how warm they are and how I can pull the sleeves over my fingers.
But they’re not hobbies. Or interests. I literally just sit on the roof and buy cardigans.
I’m thankful when exhaustion finally weighs down on me.
I wake half an hour later for school. My phone rests in my hand. A surge of panic rises—I didn’t reply to Kai.
He hasn’t text. He’s probably asleep, anyway, or nursing his hangover.
I don’t expect to hear from him ever again. I try not to be butthurt about it, but I’m ashamed how much I miss our conversation. I’d forgotten about everything for a while.
It isn’t until I’m on the bus home that my phone pings.
