My Kind of Woman

10. Married Woman!

For the first time, I felt complete relief at hearing that name. Lying to Jackie wasn't okay, but the thoughts I were having about her mother were worse. It made lying the only option I had. I didn't want Jackie to start pressing me or getting excited about the possibility of Giana and I, but it was a distraction from the other confusing thoughts I'd been having.

I nodded.

"So the checkboxes are like what you've felt or what you want?" Jackie asked.

I shrugged, not knowing what to say yet. "Want, I suppose. At the moment."

I remembered that I'd ticked three of the top basics: thinking about them, stomach fluttering, wanting to be around them excessively. I was still working on the stupid list at that point, but after talking about it with Jackie I wanted to scrunch it up and throw it away. The list was childish; it was physical proof of my inexperience. I didn't like looking at it.

The bell that signified the end of our break sounded, and Jackie jumped up, knowing her lesson was on the other side of the building. She pointed at me as if I was being scolded.

"We will continue this later. Coming over?"

I would've said no so I could've avoided talking about the list, but staying the night meant seeing Mio. "Yeah, sure, I'll pop home first for my bag though."

She had dashed out of the classroom before I'd even finished my sentence, and after she closed the door, I remembered that Ms. Bisset was still sitting at the front. I looked at her and she smiled back, shaking her head - her actions reminding me of Mio. Maybe I just had an affinity for older women.

After the day finished, I went from school straight to my house without Giana and Jackie. Jackie I would see later on, but Giana I was kind of avoiding. Since my birthday, our interactions had been awkward and I'd been looking for any way I could to get away from her. As unkind as it sounded. Everything with women just felt all too complicated.

My bike was chained up in the front yard, the back wheel sagging slightly, due for a tire pumping. My dad's car was parked up in the street though, meaning his day had ended earlier than usual. I felt sometimes I didn't see him as much as I should've, and I really should've. He was my only family member.

I came in through the front door, kicking my shoes off by the mat and tossing my rucksack down beside them. Straight through the thin hallway, I saw the back half of my dad leant over the counter, presumably looking at something.

"Hello. I'm in." I called, trailing through into the kitchen.

"Good day, chickpea?" He asked, turning to smile at me in greeting. In front of him on the counter was a piece of scrap paper with something scribbled on the back in his unintelligible handwriting.

I opened the fridge, then closed it when I realised there was nothing to snack on. "Yeah, was alright. I'm going to Jackie's in a bit."

He just nodded, and I saw then that something was troubling him. The brightness to his downturned eyes was dull and absent, his lip corners drooped and his leg bounced. I knew before he would say anything, that she'd made her appearance again in some way or another. She was trying again to rip my father apart at the seams.

"What's happened?" I questioned, trying to look him in the eye.

He sighed. "Your mom's been arrested in Jacksonville."

"So? She's in Florida. That's her problem." I snapped. "Whatever it is, I'm sure she deserves it."

My dad, like the kind man he was, looked like he didn't agree with me. He wouldn't badmouth my mom, even after everything. "She wants me to pay her bail money."