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Relief courses through me. My shoulders sag, as if the panic that had held onto me with its claws finally lets go. And all that anger I felt for Archer swarms back—he’s okay, he’s okay, he’s okay. As long as he’s okay, I can be angry with him for what he said to me. For leaving me.
‘Why did he answer to you?’ I whisper.
Chase blinks. ‘What?’
‘I called him so many times, but when you called him, he picked up on the first ring. Why would he do that?’
A muscle ticks in his jaw. ‘I really don’t know, Frankie.’
He’s ignoring me. That’s the only explanation. Why would he ignore me, though? What have I done? Did I do something wrong? Maybe I should have called him last night. Maybe hewaswaiting for me to return to the tent so he could apologise.
Chase seems to note my train of thought, because he shakes his head, and growls, ‘Don’t you dare. Don’t you think, not even for a second, that you are to blame for any of what happened last night.’
I open my mouth to protest when a groan sounds outside.
I bolt to the tent flap and peer out, Chase doing the same over my shoulder.
Cassie and Demi’s tent is open now, and they swig water and munch family-sized packets of crisps as they giggle about what the hell they got up to last night. I can’t tell if it's Brian or Greg snoring, but the groan came from Dave: only his bald, blue head hangs out the tent.
Chase snorts.
‘Dave,’ I call to him. ‘Are you okay? You’re looking a little… blue.’
Dave groans again. ‘Very funny.’ I bite my lip. ‘I couldn’t sleep last night, thanks to you and whatever the fuck this shit is on my head. It still wasn’t dry by the time I went to bed, and the tent kept getting stuck to my head and waking me up—‘
Chase and I burst out laughing.
???
I head down to the breakfast vans with Chase. As I eat my vegetarian breakfast sandwich—which tastes like cardboard with sauce—I check in with my dad briefly.
He’s still waiting on the results from his tests he had this week, and I reassure him these things take about two weeks. He sounds tired, but he’s eating okay. Apparently, our widowed neighbour, Janet, came round last night and they ate Indian together.
My heart both warms and constricts at the thought. Any hope that my mum may reconcile with my dad douses like a flame—but, then, do I really wish for her to abuse him again, just so I can have a mum?
Since she left, the house has been quiet. Too quiet at first, but lately it’s… almost peaceful. The wildflowers are growing in the garden again, and I actually planted that blossom tree I’d been wanting to for years, and I’m getting more hours of sleep, and there isn’t this dark cloud lurking around the halls anymore. And my dad’s nose isn’t shoved into the daily newspapers; over the past couple weeks, he’s started talking again. Smiling again—faint and pinched at the corners, but smiling. And even though I still hear him crying at night, I know it’s not because my mum’s shouted at him, but because he misses her.
For years I wondered how my dad could possibly love someone like her when she treated him so poorly, but maybe love doesn’t just go away that easily. Maybe love really does make us blind to all the bad parts of someone.
On the other end of the line, I hear the faint click of the front door shutting, and my dad whispers, ‘Gotta go. Jan’s here. Thanks for checking in, Frankie-ming.’ The call ends.
Jan.
Maybe this is a good thing. That he’s not alone in that house. That he has someone to remind him just why, exactly, he’s better off without my mum. To show him all the love she never gave him.
Maybe that’s it. Maybe it takes receiving love off someone else to realise how wrong you were about the person before.
I look at Chase, watching him try to help Dave wash off the paint on his head, and the breath punches out of me. I’d already realised it last night, hadn’t I?
His laugh skitters along my skin as Dave shudders from the water going down the back of his shirt.
I’m in love with Chase, and it’s taken me until now to realise it.
My mouth dries as another revelation slams into me: I need to break up with Archer.
Even if nothing becomes of Chase and I, it’s not fair to string him along when I don’t have feelings for him beyond lust and desire.
I’ll tell him Monday when I get home, but first…
