Unbroken, Chapter Three, Part Two

    Niamh texts asking me to meet her soon after I’ve got home from Dad’s.  Mum’s annoyed at me for refusing to eat in the same room as Shelby but I try to explain that I did it for her.  I don’t need two mum’s.  There’s no way on earth I can ever like Shelby one-hundredth as much as I love my mum.

It’s spitting with rain when I reach the old train station.  There’s  a group of teens smoking and drinking beneath the bridge but I steer clear of them.  Instead I sit on the same bench as yesterday and scroll through my phone.  I don’t know why, but I’m looking for the last text Via sent me.  It was a couple of weeks ago, after I’d bumped into her on my way home from The DVD Barn.   She hadn’t stopped to talk to me, but she’d sent me a text apologising and asking to meet for a coffee one evening.  I haven’t text her back.  I don’t plan to.

“Yo!”

Niamh’s grinning at me as she approaches.  She’s got her hood pulled up over her head but I can still make out the scratches on her cheek.

“Nice shiner.”  She laughs.  “She really got you.”

I press the tender skin beneath my left eye and wince.   “Bitch.”

“Now do you see why I had to have another go at her?”

Niamh drops down onto the bench next to me and gets out her phone. 

“Drew text me this morning.”  She’s smiling and I smile with her.  “He said he saw the end of the fight, you kicking like crazy and me trying to rip the girls hair out.”  She laughs.  “He said we looked possessed.

I try to remember the fight but I can’t.  It’s all a blur of screaming and pain and rage.

“But it’s not as awesome as you meeting the babe himself.”  She prods my elbow.  “I mean, wow.”

I grin but Niamh doesn’t let me talk.

“I mean, what was he doing at Dexter’s?”

I don’t have an answer to her question.  I’d been trying to figure out the same thing this afternoon after the coverage of Chace’s film premiere had finished.  Why would a movie star be out clubbing in a small town that’s known for nothing?  I’d been surprised enough to find it on Google maps.  I wouldn’t have bothered putting it on there. 

“Do you reckon he had a fight with Ella?”  Her face floods with glee.  “That’ll teach her for snogging him in ‘Simple Valley.’  You know, I love that film, but she totally ruins it for me.”

“Me too,” I say.  “Do you think that was why he was there?”

“To find another girl?” Niamh adds.

 My spine tingles even though I know we’re only making up unfounded theories.

“Don’t.  Just thinking about it’s making me jealous.”  She shows me her phone and I see her screen saver.  It’s a picture of Chace in ‘Simple Valley’.  It had been a rom com and Niamh and I had sworn to kill Ella Beck for getting to kiss him. 

“You’re so lucky.”

I shrug.  “Yeah, but it’s not like I’m going to see him again.  He’s back in London already,” I say.  “He was at a movie premiere this afternoon.”  I don’t want Niamh to think I’m disappointed, so I go for the uncaring look instead. 

“What a life,” Niamh says, sounding wistful. 

The teens over by the bridge are getting nosier and I look over to see them trying to set fire to a bin. 

“I think I wanna marry him,” Niamh announces proudly. 

“What about Drew?” I ask, looking back to her.  “He’s a babe too, right?”

Niamh nods emphatically.  “Totally.  Just not as much as Chace is.”  She sucks on her lip ring.  “God.  I can’t believe you got to look into those eyes.”

I sigh.  “It was hardly the most romantic of meetings.  He was congratulating me on a well-earned nickname.”

“Riot.”  Niamh laughs.  “He got your real name, right?”

I nod.  “Yep.  And he told me it means princess.”

“Really?  That’s so sweet.”

I try hard not to smile like an idiot.  “I looked it up when I was over my dad’s.  He was right.”

She sticks her tongue out and I know it’s at the mention of my dad.  “You had to go over there?”

“It was horrible,” I say.  My teeth grind and my stomach goes from doing flips to clenching like a fist.    “Dad wanted me to have lunch at the table with all of them, but I just made a sandwich and hid in the snug.”

“Do you reckon he’s got the hint yet?”

I snort.  “Don’t be stupid.  He still forces me to go over.  If he really understood how much I hated him for leaving Mum, then he wouldn’t bother.”

It starts to rain harder then and we both duck inside one of the deserted alcoves.  There’s graffiti all over the brick walls, mostly stating who the biggest slag is.  I count three mentions of ‘Stacey’ and four of ‘Brooke’.

“Do you think you can ever forgive him?”  Niamh sounds serious and I don’t feel like answering her.

I stare at the walls for a bit longer, counting more names.  If I had some spray-paint, I know who I’d add to the list of slags.  “Depends whether he divorces the skank or not.  Until he does, no.”

A crack of thunder sounds over-head just as we both stop talking.  I hate awkward silences.

“We should probably go,” I say.  I don’t like the direction the conversation’s taken and it’s starting to go dark.  The clouds are thick and purple.  “We could go back to yours.”

Niamh sighs.  “Mum and Dad are in and if they see your eye, they’ll know something went down last night.”  She laughs.  “I managed to convince them that the scratches were from a bush I fell into.”

“Mine it is then,” I reply.  “But I have to warn you.  Declan’s home.”

                                                                           ***

    We climb the stairs to a chant of ‘Freak’.  Declan’s only acting big because Mum’s out and he’s got his pervy mate over.  Together, Declan and Dave are easily the biggest twits this side of town.

Niamh flips them the bird and Dave mutters something about my ass but I carry on upstairs, pushing Niamh along so she can’t run back down to throttle him.  I’d like to throttle him myself, but I’m hungry and I’ve got chocolate stashed in my room.  My stomach rumbles and I try to hurry Niamh along which results on her tripping on a loose floorboard, crashing through my open door and collapsing in a heap on my bed.  I land on top of her, squashing her into the duvet.  She lets out a groan of disapproval but I give it another ten seconds before I get up and retrieve the chocolate from the bottom of my wardrobe.

“I think I broke my toe,” Niamh says, a little out of breath as she sits up and examines her foot.

I laugh and hold out the family size chocolate bar I’ve already broken into.  She takes a chunk and soon forgets about her toe.

“Your brother’s a tool.”

“Don’t I know it,” I reply, licking melted chocolate from my fingers.  They taste of sugar and happiness and I smile.  “I’m still trying to get Mum to send him to boarding school.”

“Doesn’t that cost a bomb?”

I shrug and sit back down on the bed.  “Dad can pay.  He’s the one with all the dosh.”

Niamh snorts, fluffing her hair with her hands.  “Like he’d send the kid who likes him away.  He’d probably prefer to pack you off to Switzerland.”

I surrender the bar over to Niamh, my stomach suddenly full.  “I’d like to see him try.”

I’m just concocting a plan to send Dad and Declan off to Timbuktu when my phone buzzes from my pocket.  I take it out and scowl at the unknown number.

“Who’s that from?” Niamh asks.  She’s chewing loudly in my ear and I push her away with a grin.

“No idea.”

“Blocked number?  It could be that girl from last night.  I’d love it if she was asking for round two.  Or is it three?”  She smirks.  “Let me see.”

I hold my phone up out of her reach and click on the message.

“Who’s it from?  Is it her?”

“Give me a second!”

Niamh mutters something but I don’t hear what.  My eyes are too focused on reading the message.

After a moment of silence Niamh reaches for the phone again.  “Well?”

I shake my head, a little confused as a chill runs through my body.  “Apparently it’s from Chace Milligan.”

“Stop joshing with me!” Niamh exclaims.

I get up from the bed and throw the phone down next to her.  She shoves her handful of chocolate into her mouth and scans the text I’ve already read twice with eager eyes.  The text’s only short, but I take three whole deep breaths before Niamh speaks. 

“Dude.  What is this?”

I shrug.  “It’s probably Declan messing around.”  My heart’s pounding hard in my chest, contradicting the way my mind’s already made up about it being a hoax.  It has to be.

“I’ll text back.”

I spin around to face her.  “What’s the point?”

“Well if it is your little brother, then we can have some fun with him.”

I nod.  “And if it’s not?”

We both go quiet.  I can hear the sound of the TV downstairs .

“It can’t be from him.  Chace.”  Niamh sounds unsure.  “I mean, how would he have got your number?”

“I don’t remember giving it to him,” I say.  “But then I was completely wrecked.  I suppose I could have given it to him.”  I squint as I try to remember my conversation with him.  I can recall talking about my nickname, but that’s about it. 

“Let me text them back.”

I sit down on the floor, stretching my legs out in front of me.  I still feel like crap, my head a mess and my muscles aching.  “Go on then.  But don’t give the game away that we know it’s them.”

Niamh nods and bites down on her lip, her fingers flying over the buttons on my phone.  She smiles.  “I can either go all fan-girl on them, or play it cool?”

I reach up to rub my temples.  Something about this feels weird.  “Cool.”

“Cool it is.”

I watch as she replies, wondering what she’s writing, but when she hands me back the phone with a satisfied smile I don’t even look at the text she’s sent.  Something in my gut is stirring and I don’t know if it’s all the chocolate I’ve shovelled down my throat or the text.  Or more importantly, who the text’s supposed to be from.

Niamh moves to my stereo and puts on the radio, turning up the volume and bobbing her head when she recognises the song.  The sound of the music seems to soothe my muscles somewhat and the feeling in my gut even loosens slightly.

“So what do we do now?” I ask, looking down at my phone.  The screen’s blank and I guess that Declan’s too engrossed in the TV to have noticed our reply.

“We wait.”  Niamh shrugs and plays with the multitude of bracelets on her arm.  “It shouldn’t be long.”

“In the meantime,” I say.  “Why don’t we search the world wide web for the pics that were taken at Dexter’s last night?  I wanna know if there’s one of us fighting.”

Niamh scrunches up her nose with a grin.  “That could be fun.”

I reach over to where my laptop’s stored under my bed and once it’s in my lap, I turn it on.  Niamh slides off of the bed and crouches down next to me.  I catch sight of the angry red marks on her cheek.

“Your Mum honestly believed you about the bush thing?” I ask.

Niamh nods.  “I was surprised when she didn’t question me any more about it.  I was expecting a full scale interrogation.”

I laugh.  “Like the time we got drunk and stole all the traffic cones from outside the precinct?”

“Not as bad as that, no.”  Niamh munches on more chocolate and I feel suddenly jealous that she can eat whatever she wants without getting fat.  “I mean, that was bad.”

The internet loads and I click on the website for Dexter’s.  Someone’s already uploaded all of the photos that the in-house photographer took last night and we skim over the thumbnails until we think we see ourselves.

“She’s too tall to be you,” I say, pointing to a picture of a girl with dark hair that had caught our attention. 

Niamh mock punches me.  “Like I don’t already know I’m small.  I’m like, what?  Five two?”

I smile.  “But you can fit in all the really cool kids clothes while I’m stuck, gradually morphing from a size ten to a twelve.”

“You’re not fat,” Niamh says matter-of-factly.  “You’re gorgeous.”

I look down at my legs.  “It would probably help if they stopped putting two for one chocolate bars in the local shop.”

“Sadie?  Did you hear me?  I said you’re fab the way you are.”

“That’s what you’re supposed to say to fat people,” I reply, waggling a finger in her face and I notice that I need to repaint my finger nails.  “It doesn’t work.”

“You’re not a size twelve.”

“Yet.”

“And even if you were,” Niamh says, ignoring that I’ve spoken. “You wouldn’t be fat. People are so obsessed with weight, it’s ridiculous.  I mean, you should just be happy that you can reach the top shelf in the supermarket.  I have to get the kid with the step ladder to help me whenever I want some biscuits.  Or crisps.  Or anything.”

I smile.

“And he smells, too.  Like onions.  It’s vile.”

My smile upgrades to a grin.  “Like the guy who clears the tables at the precinct?”

Niamh nods, her eyes wide.  They look more black than brown today.  I think it’s all the eyeliner.

“So what you’re saying is; I’m slightly fat and you’re at a disadvantage in the height department, but at least we don’t smell?”

She nods again before snorting with laughter. 

                                                                             ***

It’s not until Niamh’s left that I realise I still haven’t received a text from Declan.  We’d gotten so wrapped up in searching the photos, especially when we’d found one of me during the fight, my eyes wide and fist pulled a back, that we’d forgotten about our mission to wind my brother up.

I leave my phone on my bedside table and trudge downstairs to find something real to eat.  The sugar rush from the chocolate’s worn off and now my stomach’s rumbling, berating me for not eating the Sunday roast that Shelby had prepared.  The house is quiet, save for the ticking of the living room clock, and the sound of next door arguing yet again. The walls in this place are paper thin.  I frown when I notice the kitchen light’s on.

“Sadie?”

I start at the sound of Mum’s voice.  I’m at the kitchen door and she’s sitting at the table, a mug of tea cradled in her hands.

“Hey,” I reply.  “What are you doing up?”

Niamh didn’t head home until gone nine, and I’d stayed surfing the web by myself for at least another hour.  I look to the oven clock to see that it’s half ten.

“I was just thinking.”

I frown again.  “About what?”  I watch her as I pour myself a bowl of cereal and I realise she’s waiting for me to sit down with her.

“I visited Nan earlier.”

My mouthful of cereal slides awkwardly down my throat as I take the seat opposite.  “Oh.”

Mum takes a sip of tea before peering at me from over the rim of her cup.  I know she’s looking at my black eye.  “I think she was a little sad that neither of you came with me.”

“Why didn’t Declan go?”

Mum rolls her eyes and I know she knows that I’m in the mood to start an argument.  “He was revising.”

I mirror her expression.  “I didn’t know he had an exam on video games.”

“Sadie.”

“I mean, him and Dave are gonna pass with flying colours if they have.”

Mum runs a hand through her hair and lets out a sigh.  “It’s up to him whether he wants to pass his exams or not.”

I can’t help harrumphing.  “What.  So he can mess his life up and I can’t?”

“Sadie.”

“That’s what it sounds like you’re saying.”

Mum’s eyes narrow and she seems to spark back to life.  “He hasn’t got himself fired from four jobs in eighteen months!”

I laugh.  “He hasn’t ever had a job.”

“He’s fifteen.”

Our voices are suddenly raising in volume, ruining the calm aura the house seems to adopt at night.  It makes me almost forget I’m on a no good council estate. “So?”

“I’m not having this conversation with you.”

“Fine.”

Mum opens her mouth to say something but decides against it.  I like it that way.  I always have to have the last word.

I finish my cereal in silence and Mum just stares at her mug.  It’s the one I bought her last mother’s day; blue with sunflowers.

“Nan asked about you.”

My eyebrows raise.  “I’ll see her tomorrow.”

“She’ll like that.”

I nod.  “Well it’s not like I’ve got a job to go to.”

Mum sighs before pushing back from the table.  “That’s the problem.”

Author's note - Sorry this part is long, but I didn't think it would be worth splitting it up.  Yeah, I'm not completely happy with this, but that's probably because I'm having issues with how Sadie's coming across to the reader.  I guess I want her to seem like she likes her mum and Niamh, but not really anyone else.  It'll be explained why in later chapters.

Thanks for reading!

xDudettex