Archive of Our Own

Things quickly reverted to how they’d always been in the house. You did your best to avoid being there and your job was the perfect excuse. Standing behind the cosmetics counter at the local pharmacy was ideal compared to the erratic moods of your father and your mother’s cold indifference. Plus, it would help you pad out the bursary that saw to your existence as an undergrad.

That night, you heard your mother and father yelling before you got in the back door. You always snuck in and quickly retreated to your room. Usually, your father was too distracted by the tv to notice you and your mother was already in bed. Tonight, you were greeted by a shattering bottle as you stepped into the kitchen.

“Just in time,” your father snarled, “another leech to suck me dry.”

“Oh, shut up, you ass!” your mother retorted, “you work so hard, don’t you? Sucking down beer as you drool over your internet porn.”

“Please,” you said as you stood trapped in the doorway, “you guys, it’s late and the whole neighbourhood can hear--”

“You think I give a fuck,” your father shouted, “you think you can tell me what to do?”

“No, I just…” you blinked and tucked your chin down. You shook your head and sidled around the counter, hoping to hide in your bedroom until they were too drunk to keep on.

“You little bitch, you’re not running away this time,” your father’s shadow closed in on you and he grabbed your arm, “you’re just like your mother, huh? So when are you gonna spread your legs and trap a man in a shithole?”

“Fuck you!” your mother snapped and your father flinched as she latched onto his arm, “don’t you touch her.”

“Get the fuck off!” he spun back and shoved your mother. She hit the table and bounced to the floor, “I’ll do what I want. I broke my back for twenty years raisin’ this girl and what does she do? Talks back like a little brat.”

He kicked your mother and she gasped. You rushed forward and your father caught you and flung you back so you hit the side of the counter. The air rushed out of you and you kicked a foot out to stop him from getting closer. You struggled with the strap of your purse and slid your fingers under the flap, searching blindly for your phone.

“Get--” you grunted as he knocked your leg down and snatched the front of your shirt, “Dad!”

He thrust you away from the counter then back again so you hit your head off the front of the cupboard. You cried out and brought your knee up into his crotch. He staggered back as he gasped and groaned, falling to one knee as he wheezed and grasped the front of his jeans.

“Goddamnit,” your mother croaked as she got up, “shoulda just gone to your room.”

“Me?” you gulped, always the one to blame whether she was sad and secluded in her bed for weeks or your father was on another drunken tangent. 

“Yeah, you,” she scowled as she neared your father as he huffed through his nostrils, calling you worse under his breath as he tried to stand, “it was so nice when you were away.”

You flinched. You thought you were used to it. You tried to tell yourself you were strong, that you could take it. But you couldn’t, not anymore. You reached back and touched the rippling sear across the back of your head and strode beside the counter to the back door.

“You’re right,” you muttered as you stopped in the frame, “it was a lot better.”

You sniffed and pushed through the creaky screen door and tramped down into the overgrown grass. You sniffed but had no tears over the scene that transpired much too often in your short life. You elbowed past the gate and let it clink behind you. You continued onto the street, your purse slumping down your shoulder as it threatened to fall off entirely.

You neared the glowing convenience sign and the chirpy sensor announced your entrance. You went to the row of glass-doored fridges and picked out a flavoured vitamin water. You paid and went out to sit on the curb and cracked the seal on the bottle. You tried to think of what to do as you tasted the lightly tinted beverage.

Your head still hurt, the pain thrumming around your skull as the pit in your chest sank deeper. Three years. Three years and you’d be done your degree and maybe have a hope of getting a real job. Maybe get out before something worse happened.

Fuck, like that would happen. You didn’t even know what you were going to do this summer. You couldn’t just go back now. Your father wouldn’t forget what you did, not ever, but tucking tail wouldn’t work this time. His anger wouldn’t go away completely but you could let it cool.

You unlocked your phone and scrolled through your contacts. Mostly names of those students you only ever texted about your group projects. You had a few friends from high school still but you hadn’t talked to most of them since graduation. Except for Theresa. 

She texted you just last week, said she heard you were back in town. You didn’t answer because you didn’t know how. You were too embarrassed. She was always the well-to-do one and you still wondered why she was ever your friend, even as teens. She lived on the other side of town where the cars were brand new and they had labradors in doghouses, not chains with snarling rottweilers. She was everything you weren’t.

‘Hey,’ you typed. You keyed in a sentence then backspaced, then tried again, again, again, until it wasn’t so cringey, ‘sorry, I’ve been working down at Bloom’s. How r u?’

You put your phone down and capped your water. Was pink a flavour? It didn’t really taste like anything. Your phone chimed and you picked it up. You hadn’t expected a response. It was almost eleven and Theresa was still a popular girl; you saw all her snaps.

‘No problem. I’m good. Happy to be free of classes. We should hang out.’

‘Sure. Whenever. I work afternoons so I’m free most mornings and a day here and there. Let me know.’

‘How about tomorrow?’ the message blipped up just as the three dots appeared, ‘I’m having a pool party.’

‘I’ll let you know,’ you replied, the prospect of other people made you nervous. You never were one for parties and you weren’t quite ready to reinduct yourself with the high school cliques.

‘Cool, I’ll be up early getting the place ready… could always use a hand ;) <3’

‘Will do :)’

You got up and peered up and down the street. You ducked around the corner as Colin, one of the local drunks, whistled his way from the street to the shining store façade. You were sure to stay hidden in the shadows until the door binged at his entrance and you dragged your feet back to the sidewalk.

The small train station was rarely used. They didn’t sell tickets anymore so they didn’t need anyone there to mind the desk. Everything was online now. The barreling locomotive barely even stopped there as few were going anywhere so the benches inside the tiny structure were empty.

It wasn’t the first time you’d slept there but you hoped you wouldn’t have to again. You dragged a chair in front of the door and laid across the plastic seats along the far wall, your purse propped under your head as a pillow. 

That party wasn’t a good idea, you didn’t even have a swimsuit to wear and you weren’t chancing your parents’ place for at least a few days. You drifted off worrying about the gathering you wouldn’t even attend.

🏘

You woke stiff and sore. You sat up and stretched as you moved around the damp space. The dew seeped in through the cracks of the long neglected station and you moved the chair from in front of the door. You tidied your appearance blindly as your purse swung from your elbow and you set off for the coffee shop.

You ordered a medium roast laced with a double shot of espresso and sat in the corner. You held your head and yawned as you tried to figure out what you were going to do. You actually had a day off but nowhere to go. It was the cruel irony which defined your life.

You connected to the wifi as your battery hit twenty percent. Your anxiety addled habit of keeping a charger in your purse assuaged your brief panic. You stood and found the outlet just under your seat and sat back down.

“Hey,” the familiar voice brought your head up. Of course, she had to be there. It was like the stars were aligning just to humiliate you.

“Theresa,” you smiled and dropped your phone, “what are you doing here?”

“Headed to the hardware store to grab new floaties,” she preened, “needed an iced coffee to get me through-- and I kinda hoped I’d run into you. Your parents still live down here, right?”

“Sure do,” you nodded, “I… it’s good seeing you.”

“Really!” she trilled, “I was so happy you texted last night. Are you gonna come?”

“I don’t… I don’t know,” you fidgeted, “I’m tired and… I…” you picked your thumbnail nervously, “it’s not really a good time for me.”

“Oh, do you work today?” she frowned, her bright blue eyes hopeful but ready to dim.

“No, I…” you rubbed the back of your head and flinched as you touched the tender spot along your crown, “um, do you need help then? At the hardware store?”

She bounced excitedly, her drink contained only by the plastic lid as her cheekbones bulged beautifully. She tilted her head and did a little dance with her fingers pointed out.

“You always were the organised one,” she teased, “so you’re gonna come?”

“I’ll help set up,” you relented, at least it would keep you busy, “but uh, I don’t know if I can handle a party.”

“Oh, well, no worries, I appreciate the help at least,” she said, “I hope I’m not ruining your day off though.”

“No, no, not at all,” you assured her, “so, floaties? What happened to the old ones?”

“It’s a long story,” she giggled, “it’s so good to see you.”

“You too,” you grabbed your coffee and followed her past the other table.

You came out into the sun, the morning in full effect as you squinted. You followed Theresa to her familiar silver Volvo. She dropped her purse in between the seats as you opened your door and settled in, hoping you didn’t smell like the train station. She turned the engine and flipped on the AC as her phone connected to the stereo and pop began to blast from the speakers.

She turned down the music and reversed out of her spot as you buckled your seatbelt, still balancing your cup in one hand.

“We can stop by your place on the way and grab a swimsuit,” she said as she looked both ways, “then--”

“No, don’t worry about it,” you said, “I probably won’t swim--”

“Come on, you never know,” she said as she turned out into traffic, “maybe you can stay the night, you can grab some stuff as well--”

“Theresa, please, I can’t… I can’t go home right now,” you said quietly. She muted the stereo and blinked at the road. You watched her face tense and her golden lashes flutter, “let’s just go to the store and get what you need.”

“What happened this time?” she asked gently.

“Nothing, just… can’t be there right now,” you sighed as you set your cup in the plastic holder.

“Sure,” she said tritely, “you know, I’m not as stupid as you think. I know how your dad is--”

“Do we have to do this right now?” you asked, “please, just… nothing I can do.”

“Well, I can do something,” she said as she set her chin, “you’re gonna stay at my place and not worry about that asshole.”

“I can’t do that--”

“You damn sure will,” she insisted, “if you keep on, I’ll tell my dad everything and he’ll go over himself and let that jackass have it.”

“Theresa,” you half-chuckled, “please, it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine,” she sniffed, “is this why you didn’t answer me? Do you really think I judge you like that?”

“No, but… I just-- you know, I was just embarrassed,” you shrugged, “I really don’t wanna talk about.”

“Alright,” she relented as she turned into the hardware store, “but guess what, you’re gonna help me make this party perfect and then you’re going to have a great time. I mean it!”

“Twist my arm,” you said dryly as she pulled into a spot.

“Don’t make me,” she warned as she checked her phone, “also, my dad’s been asking about you. You know how he is, he has to know everything.”

“Oh?” you drew your brows together. Mr. Odinson was always nice, always friendly, the kind of dad you wish you had. That’s why you avoided him. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy each time he came around.

“He’ll probably be hiding with my uncle by the time we get everything ready but he’ll want a full update,” she said as she got out on her side and continued chatting over the roof as you opened your door, “you know, when I got home, he wanted to know everything. Even asked me about boys, like hullo, you’re my dad but you don’t need to hear about that.”

“Probably just worried,” you said, “but… were there boys?”

“You tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine,” she grinned as she hit the lock button on her keys.

“Oh, you know, I don’t think a vibrator counts even if it is more useful,” you kidded, “so, spill it.”

“Where do I start?” she giggled.