Sidelines ✔️

31 • Spaced • 31

"You gonna take that?" Taylor asked me.

I was about to shake my head and tell her that it was probably just a spam caller when the call cut off and the silence was followed by my phone buzzing again. When my eyes focused on the screen and saw that an unknown number had sent me a text. I froze when I realised what it said.

Hey, Charlie I've been trying to get hold of you. Call me back when you get the chance, Dad. X

I could barely breathe as I read the text three times just to make sure it was really there, but it was. It was lighting up my phone screen in black and white. It was there and it was real. When the realisation hit me that he had texted me and had been trying to get in touch with me sunk in, I discarded it. I turned over my phone and looked up at my friends, who were both looking at me confused.

"What is it, Charlie?" Joe asked, his eyebrows furrowed together in concern.

I blinked away any tears that were threatening to come to the surface and shook my head. "Nothing, it's just some spam caller trying to get hold of me." I explained.

Taylor and Joe nodded reluctantly, deciding not to push me. They went back to the topic of English with Joe wanting Taylor to refresh his brain with some quotes and concepts for the English test tomorrow. I however, just nodded along with whatever they were saying. My mind could only focus on one thing. The words of the text message circled around my brain, taking my focus away from my friends.

The unexpected contact from my father stayed on my mind for the rest of the day. By the time I met my stepbrother's in the parking lot after school, the thought of my Dad still hadn't left my mind.

My thoughts made the  drive home from quiet for me. Somebody was talking to me, but I wasn't paying attention. I was in the back seat of my stepbrothers car lost in my thoughts. I kept thinking about my Mom saying I could go and stay with my Dad. Before today it sounded like an idea, an escape route, a place to run to if I needed it. Yet, nothing about the idea really felt tangible. Any glimpse into a reality of the idea was romanticised. I hadn't spoken to my Dad since he left.

"You should have seen us at practise today, Charlie. We smashed it." Someone said to me, the sound of my name getting my attention.

I recognised the voice to be Tommy, but it could have been anyone of them. I wasn't going to reply. I didn't need to.

I managed a small nod as my mind circled back to the thoughts of my Dad. My hurt sunk as I pictured his face in my mind, I could almost hear his voice calling me Charlie or Monkey as he occasionally liked to. He never called me Charlotte. Not once. If he was mad at me, he'd try and sit me down and usually managed to get through to me.

I didn't wind him up quite like my Mom or Alice were able to. I was different from them, they were all too similar and they all liked to get involved in whatever conflict was going on. I was never sure what the argument was about, but I kept my distant, not getting involved. I realised they preferred it that way because when I was around, they tried to shut me out like they were trying to protect me from the truth. Yet, I could see it. Their marriage was crumbling.

My Mom and Dad were always arguing with each other, but they were as bad as each other. They'd try and tell you different, but I know better than to believe one version of events. Alice used to get angry at them. She'd try and remain calm, but it wasn't always enough. To get our parents to hear you when they were arguing you'd have to raise your voice, but I just liked to leave.

Alice used to get back from studying at the library and she'd find me sat at the top of the stairwell. Most times I was hungry. I wanted a snack and our parents arguments had become a device to hog the kitchen from us.