Unbroken, Chapter Three, Part One

‘Dancing at discos, eating cheese on toast.  Yeah, you make me merry, make me very very happy, but you obviously, you didn’t want to stick around.  So I learnt from you.’  Kate Nash- Merry Happy.

I’m pouring cereal when Mum grabs my face. 

“Sadie, is that a black eye?”

I shrug and pull back from her.  “Good morning to you to.  Did you sleep well?”

She sighs, her gaze still on my eye.  “Yes.  Until you woke me up by charging up the stairs at three in the morning.”

“I tried to be quite,” I say, adding milk to my bowl.  “But I was drunk.  I mean, have you ever heard a drunk person try to whisper?  It’s well funny.”  I chuckle to myself and the movement makes my eye throb.  I grimace.

“Yes actually,” she replies, her tone sharp.  “Last night, when you walked into the wall and swore.”

My head aches at the memory.  Actually, my head aches full stop.  So do my legs.  And my knuckles.

“Did you get into a fight?”  She sounds worried and the guilt starts up again.  Mum has a habit of making it do that.

“I didn’t start it,” I begin.  “If that’s any consolation.”

“No it isn’t, not really.”  She moves to pick her bag up from coffee table and I watch her into the lounge.  “Remember your Dad’s picking you up after lunch.”

I open my mouth to speak but she beats me to it.  I already know what she’s about to say.

“Please be nice.”

I pout against my spoon as I watch Mum leave for work at the local supermarket.  She says she likes working on the tills because she gets to talk to people who don’t have an attitude problem.  I don’t know what she means though.

Once she’s gone I sit down at the table and ignore my cereal.  Instead, I try to see my black eye in the back of my spoon.  My skin looks a little purple, but it’s nothing a bit of make-up won’t cover.  I’d love to see the other girl.

I get a text after I’ve showered and put on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.  It’s from Niamh, asking why I told her about meeting Chace by text instead of telling her last night.  I reply saying I didn’t want to interrupt her blow by blow of how the fight had gone.  She’d only just finished by the time the taxi had got to my house.  The taxi driver must have thought we were right yobs.

It’s twelve-thirty by the time I’ve straightened my hair so I munch on a packet of crisps in the living room while I wait for Dad to steal me away from happiness.  Declan’s playing on his games console and I laugh when his character dies for the third time in fifteen minutes.   He scowls, makes a comment about my black eye, and then goes back to his game.

When the doorbell finally rings, Declan’s at the door before it can finish it’s chime.

“Dad!”

He sounds like a kid meeting Santa at Christmas.  It makes my skin crawl.

“Hi Dec,” Dad replies and I see him enter the room out of the corner of my eye.  I pretend I haven’t noticed him yet as he leans against the stair rail and rubs his hands together.  I hate it when he does that.

“Hi Sadie.”

I continue staring at the TV which is black now Declan’s no longer playing on it.  It’s calming and I wish I could stay staring at it all day but I know I’ll have to look at Dad eventually.  I can smell his cologne and I just know he’ll be wearing his long black coat.  Dad can’t stop dressing for business, even at the weekend.  I can’t remember the last time he wore jeans.  Not that I’d want to think back that far to before everything got so messed up.

“Are you ready?”

I pinch the sofa and turn to glare at him.  He’s wearing his coat.  “I don’t see why I have to go.  I’m nineteen years of age.  I can look after myself.”

Dad makes a strangled sound and I know I’m getting on his nerves.  I can tell he wants to run a hand through his mousy brown hair in frustration but he doesn’t want to let on just how much I’m annoying him.  He knows there’s no stopping me when he shows weakness. 

“I know that, Sadie.  But I’m not babysitting you.  You’re coming over because you haven’t seen me in a week.”

“It hasn’t been long enough,” I mutter.  I know Dad’s heard.

Declan reappears from the back garden with a football under his arm.  “Are we going?” he asks impatiently.

“As soon as Sadie decides to move, yes,” Dad answers.  “Sadie?”

I huff loudly as I get up.  I’m not in the mood for a full blown row.  My heads still hurts.  “It’s only going to be the same as last time,” I warn him as I force my feet into my trainers and storm out of the house.

Declan follows, bouncing the ball on the concrete.  The sound echoes in my head.  This is a bad hangover.

It takes Dad forty minutes to drive to the other side of town.  I have to sit in traffic, listening to country music and Declan going on and on about the latest video game he wants.  I try to sink into the seat, wishing I could be somewhere else.  The car smells of leather and Dad’s aftershave and the scent makes me feel dizzy.  My stomach’s whirling like a tumble-drier and I groan into my shoulder.  Seeing our old side of town only makes the sick feeling stronger.  We pass my old school, old local shop and old friend’s houses.  There’s nothing old about it though; everything on the right side of town is clean and well presented.  The people here actually care and that’s probably why I didn’t ever really fit in.

I’m in an even worse mood when he pulls up into the driveway of our old family home.  Hundreds of old memories cloud my vision as I step out of the car, slamming the door behind me.  I may be acting like a spoilt teenager, but I have a reason.  I hate returning here.  It just makes me realise how different my life is compared to two years ago.  I live in a small council house now, for one.  I look up at my old house.  The lawn’s green and the gravel drive is wide enough for two cars.  The bay window in the lounge is still draped in the same curtains Mum picked out after they got married just after I was born.  It still looks like a dolls house.  Clean and spacious and expensive.  If Niamh saw this place she’d die.

“Are you coming in?” Dad asks from the porch and I scowl at him. 

I make sure he sees me take the cigarette packet out of my jeans pocket and light up.  Not because he hates to see me smoking, which apparently he does.  And not because I want to upset him, even if I do.  But because I want him to see that being here stresses me out.  Everyone knows I only smoke when I’m stressed.

I sit on the wall, my back to him, and smile when I hear the front door close. Alone in the cold air, my mind goes back to last night.  It feels surreal to think that I actually met Chace Milligan.  He’d been so cool and collected.  My heart swoons and I let out a sigh.  I suck on the cigarette before tapping it on the wall.  Ash falls to the floor and I watch as it gets carried away in the wind.

The sound of a car horn makes me look up a few minutes later and I see a car backing out of the driveway across the street.  It’s sporty and red and I’d recognise the personalised number plate anywhere.

“Hey!  Sadie?”

I grimace at my feet before directing a plastic smile towards the girl in the driver’s seat.  She’s my age with long blonde hair.  Her lips are painted blood red and so are her nails, I notice, when she offers me a delicate wave.  She isn’t the girl from last night, though she might as well be.  God knows I want to punch Via Morgan in her beautiful face.

“Long time no see,” she says.

I nod.

She stops the car directly adjacent to me.  “How’s things?”

“Good.”

“Still working at Val’s?”

I shake my head.  “Fired.”

My one word answers aren’t putting her off trying to have a conversation with me, even though I wish they would.

“Oh dear.  Well, I’ve got to go and pick Pixie up from her stylists.  See you around.”

I try not to choke on the cigarette smoke I’ve just inhaled.  Why does a dog need a stylist?

“Yeah,” I say, watching as she gives me another wave, then pulls away.  “Whatever.”

I don’t know why I used to be best friends with her.

                                                                           ***

Dad leaves me alone for another ten minutes before he tries to get me to come inside.  I only agree when he announces that he’ll send Shelby out to talk to me if I don’t.

I retreat into the snug and turn on the TV.  This is the only room Shelby hasn’t touched downstairs.  It’s still got the same squishy couch decorated with oversized cushions.  I hug one to me as I flick through the channels before I find the one I’m looking for.  The woman with the squeaky voice has been joined by a man today.  He’s got expensive looking highlights and impossibly white teeth, too.  I ignore everything they’re saying until it’s time for the premiere for Chace’s new film.  The program’s being filmed live from London and I sit up when I spot a limo pulling up in front of the red carpet.  My smile’s huge.  Chace is wearing a suit the same colour grey as his eyes.  His hair is slicked back just like it was last night.  The only difference is that he’s shaved.  His creamy white skin glows under the paparazzi’s flashes and I can’t help feeling a shiver run down my spine.  I saw him last night.  I sat with him last night.

He’s waving to the crowds of screaming girls.  Signing autographs.  I wish I’d asked him to sign my arm or something.  At least I’d have proof then.  It still feels like a dream.  But just as I’m thinking that he turns back around to face the main camera and I spot his lip.  His cut is clearly visible.  The presenters are talking about it actually.  Asking how he got it.

“I bet he got it kissing his boyfriend.”

I turn around to see Declan standing in the doorway to the snug.  I’d been so preoccupied watching Chace that I hadn’t heard him come in.

“Oh shut up, Declan,” I mutter. 

He sticks his tongue out at me.  “How else did he get it then?”

I smile.  “I elbowed him in the face.”

“Is that supposed to be some perverted fantasy?” Declan asks.  “You’re seriously weird.”

I throw a cushion from the sofa at him and he laughs.  “I only came in to tell you Shelby’s made lunch.”

I gag.  “Not hungry.”

“I said you’d say that.”

“Good,” I reply.  “Now get out.”

Author's note - I've edited this a bit before posting, trying to add in some more descriptions, but I'm still not sure if there's a good balance between description and dialogue.  Opinions please!

I'd also like to know whether Sadie's reaction to her dad is right.  I mean, she hates him, and it'll become clearer why in later chapters - I'm trying to bleed the information slowly - but I don't know if she hates him enough in this chapter.  He doesn't do anything to provoke her, so it's not like they can argue, but yeah.  More opinions please.

Thanks for reading!

xDudettex