Chasing the Tide
Page 23
“What the hell is your problem, Dania? You were the one who told me to go!” My voice rose and I cast a quick look around. Luckily no one seemed particularly interested in our less than amicable reunion.
Dania bit on her lip and for a second and I thought she was going to cry. I recoiled, completely off balance. She looked hurt. Upset. Bewildered.
“I just never thought you’d leave me behind is all,” Dania said softly, shocking me. I stood rooted in place, not sure what to say. What to do.
I had never, in all the years I had been gone, allowed myself to think about what my absence would mean for Dania. Dania was in my past. A past I never wanted to think about again.
When I looked at my former best friend I saw the worst of who I could be. She and I had always brought out the viciousness, the ugliness, in each other. Looking at her I was reminded of how I had tortured and traumatized the man I loved because I had been too much of a coward to stop it.
When I looked at Dania, I saw the girl who had stood by me as I set Flynn’s house on fire. A fire that had destroyed his home and killed his beloved dog, Marty.
I saw the woman who had encouraged the horrible parts of me to dominate everything.
She had been my miserable company. My wicked companion. I had hated and loved her in equal measure.
“There was nothing left to say, Dania. You had your life. I had mine. That was it,” I said frankly, not pulling any punches.
Lyla had laid her head on her mother’s chest, her tiny fist clutching Dania’s hair.
“Whose the father?” I asked, knowing I wasn’t entitled to that information. I figured Dania would tell me exactly where I could shove my curiosity anyway.
But she didn’t. Instead she answered me.
“She’s Stu’s,” Dania said and I could hear the regret in her voice.
“Stu’s? Really?” Stu and Dania had always had a strange relationship. They epitomized dysfunctional.
“Yeah and he has nothing to do with either of us if you were wondering. I’m pretty sure he’s in jail anyway. I’m doing this alone. I messed up with Brandon. I wasn’t going to fuck up twice,” Dania explained angrily, defensively.
I held up my hand. “I wasn’t saying anything about Brandon,” I argued.
Dania’s mouth set into a grim line. “But you were thinking it. And I don’t blame you. I think about him every day.” Dania kissed the top of her daughter’s head and put her back in the seat of the grocery cart.
“I’ve got to go. Lyla needs a nap.” She pushed the cart down the aisle without a goodbye.
“Dania!” I called out just before she disappeared around the corner.
The woman who had been my only family turned around, her eyes sort of sad. “You don’t have to say anything, Ells. I get it. I really do. It was good seeing you,” she said, not giving me a chance to say anything else.
Chapter Seven
-Ellie-
“Can I keep her?” I asked, running my hands through the soft, thick fur. A wet, sloppy tongue lapped at my cheek and I laughed. A honest-to-goodness laugh. I didn’t laugh much. It felt good.
Julie gave me a look that I had come to hate. It was like she was saying that she was sorry before opening her mouth. I knew exactly what she was going to say.
“You know you can’t,” she said, putting her hands on my shoulders and steering me away from the line of dogs and cats up for adoption outside the local hardware store.
“I know,” I mumbled, looking over my shoulder one last time at the dog that was now giving her slobbery attention to some other kid. The now familiar knot in my stomach clenched painfully.
“Maybe one day you can get a dog,” Julie said unconvincingly.
“I doubt it,” I replied petulantly. I crossed my arms over my chest and followed my social worker to her car.
Once we were buckled in and heading back to my foster parents’ house, Julie turned down the radio, her face serious. Whatever she had to say wasn’t going to be good.
“I got a call from the school yesterday. Is there something you need to tell me?” she asked. This was a trick question. There was nothing that I particularly felt like telling her. But I guessed from the tone of her voice that I wouldn’t get away with saying no.
“Well obviously you already know what happened. So why don’t you just say what you need to say,” I bit out, staring out the window, refusing to look at her.
Julie sighed. “Ellie. Come on. I’m not the enemy here,” she said and I hated the tone in her voice. It was a tone that said she was disappointed in me. She was the only person whose opinion mattered in the slightest. And that wasn’t saying much because I didn’t really care what she thought either. I had stopped giving a shit a long time ago.
“I got in a fight,” I admitted, my arms crossed over my chest like a shield.
“Yeah and I also heard you trashed the teacher’s lounge after school. Did you really steal the coffee maker and smash the glass on the copier?” Julie asked incredulously.
I didn’t say anything. What was the point? She already knew the truth. Otherwise we wouldn’t be having this conversation.
“This is serious stuff, Ellie. You’re thirteen years old now. One more year of this and you can be sent to juvenile detention. And trust me, you do not want to end up there,” Julie lectured, slowing the car down as she pulled up in front of the two-story white house where I was currently living.
“So let me guess the next part of this story,” I began, my jaw clenched. “The Georges want me out. They can’t handle me. I’m too ‘angry,’” I scoffed, using air quotes to make my point.
Dania bit on her lip and for a second and I thought she was going to cry. I recoiled, completely off balance. She looked hurt. Upset. Bewildered.
“I just never thought you’d leave me behind is all,” Dania said softly, shocking me. I stood rooted in place, not sure what to say. What to do.
I had never, in all the years I had been gone, allowed myself to think about what my absence would mean for Dania. Dania was in my past. A past I never wanted to think about again.
When I looked at my former best friend I saw the worst of who I could be. She and I had always brought out the viciousness, the ugliness, in each other. Looking at her I was reminded of how I had tortured and traumatized the man I loved because I had been too much of a coward to stop it.
When I looked at Dania, I saw the girl who had stood by me as I set Flynn’s house on fire. A fire that had destroyed his home and killed his beloved dog, Marty.
I saw the woman who had encouraged the horrible parts of me to dominate everything.
She had been my miserable company. My wicked companion. I had hated and loved her in equal measure.
“There was nothing left to say, Dania. You had your life. I had mine. That was it,” I said frankly, not pulling any punches.
Lyla had laid her head on her mother’s chest, her tiny fist clutching Dania’s hair.
“Whose the father?” I asked, knowing I wasn’t entitled to that information. I figured Dania would tell me exactly where I could shove my curiosity anyway.
But she didn’t. Instead she answered me.
“She’s Stu’s,” Dania said and I could hear the regret in her voice.
“Stu’s? Really?” Stu and Dania had always had a strange relationship. They epitomized dysfunctional.
“Yeah and he has nothing to do with either of us if you were wondering. I’m pretty sure he’s in jail anyway. I’m doing this alone. I messed up with Brandon. I wasn’t going to fuck up twice,” Dania explained angrily, defensively.
I held up my hand. “I wasn’t saying anything about Brandon,” I argued.
Dania’s mouth set into a grim line. “But you were thinking it. And I don’t blame you. I think about him every day.” Dania kissed the top of her daughter’s head and put her back in the seat of the grocery cart.
“I’ve got to go. Lyla needs a nap.” She pushed the cart down the aisle without a goodbye.
“Dania!” I called out just before she disappeared around the corner.
The woman who had been my only family turned around, her eyes sort of sad. “You don’t have to say anything, Ells. I get it. I really do. It was good seeing you,” she said, not giving me a chance to say anything else.
Chapter Seven
-Ellie-
“Can I keep her?” I asked, running my hands through the soft, thick fur. A wet, sloppy tongue lapped at my cheek and I laughed. A honest-to-goodness laugh. I didn’t laugh much. It felt good.
Julie gave me a look that I had come to hate. It was like she was saying that she was sorry before opening her mouth. I knew exactly what she was going to say.
“You know you can’t,” she said, putting her hands on my shoulders and steering me away from the line of dogs and cats up for adoption outside the local hardware store.
“I know,” I mumbled, looking over my shoulder one last time at the dog that was now giving her slobbery attention to some other kid. The now familiar knot in my stomach clenched painfully.
“Maybe one day you can get a dog,” Julie said unconvincingly.
“I doubt it,” I replied petulantly. I crossed my arms over my chest and followed my social worker to her car.
Once we were buckled in and heading back to my foster parents’ house, Julie turned down the radio, her face serious. Whatever she had to say wasn’t going to be good.
“I got a call from the school yesterday. Is there something you need to tell me?” she asked. This was a trick question. There was nothing that I particularly felt like telling her. But I guessed from the tone of her voice that I wouldn’t get away with saying no.
“Well obviously you already know what happened. So why don’t you just say what you need to say,” I bit out, staring out the window, refusing to look at her.
Julie sighed. “Ellie. Come on. I’m not the enemy here,” she said and I hated the tone in her voice. It was a tone that said she was disappointed in me. She was the only person whose opinion mattered in the slightest. And that wasn’t saying much because I didn’t really care what she thought either. I had stopped giving a shit a long time ago.
“I got in a fight,” I admitted, my arms crossed over my chest like a shield.
“Yeah and I also heard you trashed the teacher’s lounge after school. Did you really steal the coffee maker and smash the glass on the copier?” Julie asked incredulously.
I didn’t say anything. What was the point? She already knew the truth. Otherwise we wouldn’t be having this conversation.
“This is serious stuff, Ellie. You’re thirteen years old now. One more year of this and you can be sent to juvenile detention. And trust me, you do not want to end up there,” Julie lectured, slowing the car down as she pulled up in front of the two-story white house where I was currently living.
“So let me guess the next part of this story,” I began, my jaw clenched. “The Georges want me out. They can’t handle me. I’m too ‘angry,’” I scoffed, using air quotes to make my point.
