The cool autumn air of the evening is a relief after all that jumping around. The clouds have begun to combine to make a giant woollen blanket across the sky. The streetlights are already on, and I'd guess we have about half an hour to get home before it gets dark.
Helen and I begin to make our journey home on foot. My mind starts to wander as the sound of leaves crunching under our feet zones me out when Helen breaks me out of my thoughts.
"Want to stop at the shop for a drink on the way?" She asks me.
I frown. A drink would be amazing right now, but I'm not sure how she's planning on paying for it.
"You have money left?" I ask her casually, trying to question her subtly.
Helen doesn't say anything but gives me a slight nod as she stares straight ahead of her. A realisation washes over me, and I turn to her.
"You saw dad, didn't you?" I say, more of an accusation than a question.
Helen looks down at her shoes as we walk, not answering. I move in front of her, stopping her from walking, and look at her, waiting for a response. She shrugs.
"He's our dad," She says, her voice small.
I shake my head at her response. As if his contribution to our DNA means anything of value at this point.
"He gives you money because he thinks it can replace the fact that he does nothing else in our lives! Don't fall for his shit, Helen. Just because he gave you some cash doesn't mean he's going to be there for you," I lecture her.
"Don't you think I know that?!" Helen shouts. Her shoulders are squared, and she's looking me in the eyes. The volume increase in her voice after speaking so softly causes me to jump. It takes me a moment to get back my resolve.
"You know where that money comes from," I remind her.
Helen looks away, but I can still see the side of her face. Her jaw is tense as she thinks.
"I don't get a dad that is there in the morning, night, or even the weekends. I don't get a dad that is there for my soccer games or principal's awards. I don't get a dad that teaches me how to apply for jobs, do my taxes, or even just teach me to drive. I get a dad that gives me cash every now and then, and I get that you hate where it comes from. I do too, but It's all I get from him, and it's better off in my pocket, buying things for you and me than it is in his pocket or... Or in his arm..." She says, her voice breaking and tears forming in the corners of her eyes as she tells me this.
I swallow. Breathing through my nose as I process her words. The cold air is freezing my lungs with each breath. Helen sits down on the curb of the footpath we were walking on and puts her head in her hands.
"I just don't want you to have expectations for him because he'll only let you down and hurt you again," I say softly, feeling bad for lecturing her.
Helen doesn't respond. She just sits there with her head in her hands. Her long hair covers her face and hands like a curtain. I sit down next to her and place my hand on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze.
"I'm sorry," I say, trying to make up.
Finally, she looks up. Her cheeks are stained with two small streaks of tears like she was trying not to cry but couldn't prevent it entirely.
"I know you're just trying to protect me, but I need to make my own choices when it comes to dad. It's okay if you don't want to be there to pick up the pieces or whatever, but I need to find my own way with it. I can't just cut him off like you did," Helen explains.
I nod. It's not like it was easy for me to cut him off. I get it. I do. I want a dad too. But, to me, it's not worth risking any more pain, and that's just what I do. I keep most people outside her, Daniel, mum, Mouse, and Noelle, at a certain distance so they don't disappoint me or hurt me. It's automatic for me at this point. I guess it works differently for her, though. I guess for her, letting people in is worth the risk.
"What you said about dad not teaching you to drive - is that why you haven't tried to get your learners yet?" I ask her, remembering what she said.
She nods, looking down at her hands.
"Mum is so busy, I feel bad asking her whenever she finally gets a break, and I'd ask Daniel to help me learn the book, but what's the point? He isn't allowed to teach me in the car yet and shouldn't have to be doing it. I will probably have to pay for lessons, but thinking about that just makes me so mad because dad SHOULD be doing it," She explains.
I hadn't even thought about who would teach us to drive. I was still stuck on the first step of passing the learner's quiz. When I think about it, though, she's right. Paying for lessons is probably the only way to go, really.
"Well, maybe we can use dads guilt money for lessons," I offer, making Helen laugh.
"After we get those drinks, maybe," She counters.
I stand up, dusting the dirt from the back of my pants. I hold out a hand for Helen to help her up, and she takes it.
"Let's go get that drink then before it gets too dark to walk home," I say to her.
Helen wipes her face, and we resume our walk down the road. It doesn't take long until we get to the shop, which is only about five minutes from our house, but it is getting darker now. As we reach the doors, my phone dings with a message.
Samantha
Coming over?
I put my phone back in my pocket, reminding myself to text her later. I don't feel like going anywhere now except back home. Maybe I'll watch a movie with Helen.
When we walk inside, Helen stops at the chip aisle. I laugh at her and continue making my way over to the fridges for a drink, knowing she's going to take some time choosing between Doritos and CCs.
When I get to the fridges, I see a girl standing there in front of them, staring at the fridge doors with a frown on her face. Her arms, covered in the red flannel shirt she is wearing, are crossed in front of her as she looks. Her long blonde hair is sitting over one side of her shoulder, out of the way as she concentrates, giving me a perfect view of her side profile. She is beautiful, and she looks lost.
I walk over to her slowly and look at what she's staring at. This fridge is full of eggs.
"Did you need some help?" I ask her. I sound like an employee and hope she doesn't confuse me for one.
She looks at me, and I notice her eyes. They're a light baby blue, with a coldness to them, not like a coldness towards people, but like a coldness inside her, like she's been left outside with nothing to warm her.
"Um... Yeah. Yeah, I guess. I have specific instructions on what type of eggs to buy, but I don't know what brands are right. I don't know... I don't normally buy... eggs," She says. Her voice is soft but has a huskiness to it too. The combination is surprising but pleasant.
"What's the instructions?" I ask her.
"Organic, ethical, free range, but real free range, not just the minimal requirements," She recites.
I laugh at the specificity of needs.
"I know someone who buys eggs like that," I tell her.
I step forward, looking at the egg options, and pick out a carton. I hand it to her, and she smiles at me as she takes it.
"This is the brand they like," I tell her.
"Thank you so much," She says to me, inspecting the carton but still looking confused.
The look on her face makes my heart feel like it's struggling to keep pace. She's beautiful, and she's a new face. It makes her interesting, and I need to know more.
"My name is Sierra; what's yours?" She introduces herself, looking at me. Her cold, blue eyes piercing through me.
"You can call me whatever you want, baby," I say to her with a smirk.
I cringe internally as the words come out of my mouth. What was that? Oh my god. The smile that was on Sierra's face just a moment ago falls, and her expression hardens. She scoffs and turns around, leaving me standing in the fridge section of the shop alone, wondering what on earth is wrong with me.
"Who was that?" Helen's voice asks from behind me.
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