I guess it’s a habit of mine, waking up early before anyone in the house. For some reason I can’t seem to sleep in past 6:30am. I kind of like it because I get a bit of peace and quiet before Lindsay or my mum wakes up. I heard movement in my mother’s room as I walk past it to go downstairs. She will be coming downstairs soon.
I make myself a bowl of cereal and then sat down at the table. After spending at least five minutes to myself, Mum comes into the kitchen. She greets me good morning, but I don’t respond. She turns on the coffee machine and then pops some bread into the toaster. We don’t speak to each other like we do almost every morning, acting like we are strangers. I may be being rude to my own mother, but I just don’t like to talk while I’m eating.
Lindsay doesn’t join us in the kitchen until maybe about fifteen minutes later. Glancing up at my sister I can see why it has taken her so long to come down here. She has put on tons of mascara, eye liner, a light green eye shadow, lip gloss and foundation. I don’t know how she can even think she is beautiful wearing that junk. She greets Mum and ignores me as she walks over to the cabinet, grabbing a bowl. She fills it up with Special K that is left out on the counter, along with the milk. She then takes a seat across from me.
Mum takes a sip of her coffee. “So what are you girls getting up to today?”
Lindsay shrugs her shoulders. “Oh, nothing much.” She takes a spoonful of her cereal.
I make sure no one is looking my way and roll my eyes. I find it so unbelievable what Lindsay has said. She is forgetting that I can see right through her, knowing exactly what she is planning to do today. I can read her mind. Even if we aren’t close sisters anymore, I can still read her mind. As twins we shared a sixth sense of knowing what the other one is thinking. She is going to give another shot at getting Nathan to notice her.
“What about you, Alex?” Mum asks me. “Are you doing anything interesting today?” She takes a bite of her peanut butter toast.
I don’t say anything. All I do is shrug my shoulder and continue eating my breakfast. I just don’t feel like talking.
“Girls, just to let you know I’m going out with Dereck tonight,” Mum continues after I ignore her.
At the mention of my mother’s boyfriend’s name, I glance up at her. Dereck London. I hate him. Mum has been seeing him for the past six months now. When mum first announced to Lindsay and me that she was dating again, I yelled at her. She was still with dad. Why would she even think about dating another guy beside him? Dad left when we were twelve. He was coming back. I know he was. I don’t know where he is. Mum never told us. She just told us that he left. He was probably on a business trip. He worked for some big company in the city. He used to attend a lot of them when we were younger and was gone for mostly the weekend. It has been almost six years now, and he still hasn’t returned. I still believe he is on a business trip, and I don’t appreciate Mum having an affair. Lindsay doesn’t seem to care if she is. She likes Mum being with Dereck.
“Jerk,” I mumble, hoping mum wouldn’t hear me. She doesn’t like it when I say mean things about Dereck.
But she does hear me, and she shoots me a warning look about my behaviour towards him. “Alex, you know I don’t like you speaking that way about Dereck.”
“So?”
“So, I would like you start being more respectful to him and give him a chance.”
“I don’t want to give him a chance.”
I stand up and take my bowl over to the dishwasher, placing it inside.
“Alex, please. I know you’re mad at me for dating him, but I want you to at least give him a chance.”
I close the dishwasher and look over at Mum. She is staring at me, waiting for me to answer. Lindsay is watching me also, chewing her food slowly.
“No.”
I walk out of the kitchen and head up to my room to gather up my things for school. As I gather my things, I catch a glimpse of the photograph of my dad and me beside my bedside table. I stare at it, feeling this rip in my heart as I remember when he first left. I didn’t want to think about it, but sometimes I do. In the picture I’m about seven years old, sitting on his lap as we both pulled goofy faces at the camera.
Dad and I have always been close. We did almost everything together. I remember when he would sometimes come home from work and would be so exhausted, but he still made time to sit down and draw with me. He was an artist himself. I was the one who taught me how to draw. He collected my drawings and kept it in a folder for me to someday look back at them and see how much I improved with my drawings. I still have the folder. It’s hidden away in the back of my wardrobe. I haven’t looked through it in years, especially when he left.
I turn away from the photograph. I didn’t have time to stop and think about the photo. I have to get ready for school. As I walk down the stairs, Mum comes by, kissing my forehead and telling me to have a good day at school before rushing out to the car.
“Lindsay, we are leaving in five minutes!” I call out to my sister.
I knew she wouldn’t be ready. She never is. She comes running out of the kitchen and then pushes pass me up the stairs to her room. There is no way will she be ready in five minutes. I wait impatiently for her. Soon five minutes passes and I threatened to leave her here. She comes running down the stairs just when I decide to leave.
I take the wheel and drive us to school. I know Lindsay hates it when I always drive. I haven’t allowed her to get behind the wheel since the day we got our licenses. I didn’t trust her driving, and that’s why I never allowed her to. She will be the type of person who wouldn’t really focus on driving, but instead flirting with random guys as she drives pass them.
I manage to find a parking space without someone trying to steal it from me.
Without any arguments between us, Lindsay and I go our separate ways. I walk ahead of her. I see Simon with a bunch of his team mates from the school rugby team, standing at the bus bay where a coach is there to take them somewhere for a stupid lousy game. No doubt Lindsay will probably throw herself at him the moment he sees her.
I see Emilynn also, standing at the entrance waiting for Linds.
“Have you seen Nathan yet?” I hear Lindsay ask Emilynn the moment I walk pass her friend.
I roll my eyes. What a slut. Is that all she ever thinks about? I turn to face them, throwing Lindsay a dirty look. Doesn’t she know her boyfriend is just near her? She sees my glance, but chooses to ignore me.
I make my way to my locker, grabbing my things for the first two periods. English was the first subject for the day again. I wasn’t looking forward to class at all, not if I have to be sitting beside Nathan. Worst part is I will probably have to watch Lindsay flirt with him since Simon won’t be attending class today.
I try to focus on my work, copying what Mrs Callea was writing on the blackboard about structures. From the corner of my eye I can see my sister trying to flirt with Nathan. I roll my eyes and shake my head. I glance up at Nathan and I notice him not taking any interest in my sister. I have to bite my lip to stop myself from laughing out loud. Lindsay was pretending not to understand what Mrs Callea was writing, so she asked Nathan to explain it to her, but he just ignored her and continues with his work.
When Mrs Callea dismisses us for second period, Lindsay follows Nathan out of the room. That girl just doesn’t know how to quit it. I went the opposite direction towards art so I didn’t have to see her flirt with him.
Visual Arts is the only subject I enjoy. Sometimes I wish it was the only subject I could study for the HSC.
I pull the canvas I have been working on in class for the past few days. On it I have an outline in pencil of a rose with its petals falling to the ground. It’s different to what I drew in my sketch book, which I keep private, I normally just drew whatever comes to my head. I never show anyone my drawings of my dad.
I grab some black paint, pouring it on a plastic plate. I grab a thin paint brush so I could outline the drawing. I slowly outline the drawing, being careful not to go out of the lines. Mrs Hawkins comes around to check how I’m doing. She smiles at my progress, and moves onto the next student.
Near me I can hear Summer Anderson filling in the latest gossip with her friend Michelle Higgins as they work on their artwork. She is talking about my sister. I try not to listen in on their conservation and concentrate on my own work, but I couldn’t help eavesdropping when they were talking loud enough for anyone to hear. I never liked Summer. She is this snobby red hair girl who is worse than Lindsay when it comes to gossiping. It’s like they needed to know what is going in everyone’s lives rather than worrying about their own.
“Did you hear what happened to Lindsay Jennings?” Summer says.
“No. What?”
“Well, apparently I saw her flirting with Nathan Bridges in the hall today on my way to class.”
“No way! Isn’t she with Simon McGuire?”
“Yeah, she is. You know how Lindsay is. She is always flirting with guys. Anyway, she bumped into him on purpose, dropping her books on the floor. He helps her, and he knew she did it on purpose. He knows she likes him, and apparently she asked him out yesterday and he rejected her. You will never guess who admitted he liked.”
My stomach twisted into knots. I have a feeling of what she was going to say, and I didn’t want to hear it. I already heard it from my sister. I didn’t need to hear it from someone else too.
“He likes her sister,” Summer says.
Michelle gasps. “No way!"
I glance over my shoulder at them. They giggle as they talked about how I was never going to get myself a boyfriend. I narrow my eyes at them. It’s like they have forgotten that I’m in the same classroom as them, and I can hear everything they say. Maybe they wanted me to hear it, just make myself feel bad about myself. Why would I make myself feel bad anyway? I’m perfectly happy the way I am.
I could go over there and say something to them, but I don’t bother. There’s no point telling them to shut up because they will just keep saying nasty things about me or even someone else. A lot of the popular girls in my grade give me a hard time for not having a boyfriend. I don’t see what the big deal is about having one. I don’t want one. Guys aren’t even worth being with. They only play with your heart just to get what they want and then leave you, stabbing you until you bleed to death.
That’s what Dad did to Mum. He left her. He left Lindsay and me too. I tell them all the time that he will back, but they tell me he isn’t. I refuse to believe them because in my own heart I know Dad will return… someday. I don’t know when, but I know he will come back for us. I still believe he is away on a business trip.
I ignore the girls, and went back to my drawing. I don’t have time to listen to them. Right now all I want to do is focus on this, finish the outlining so I can start painting the picture.