“Okay,” he says, almost like a question.
“Okay, then.” Julian stuffs his hand into his pockets and walks through the door first. My palm feels cold without his; it’s probably the sweat he left behind…Yeah.
The car ride home was quiet; dad didn’t speak to me at all. Usually, I like it when he has nothing to say, but right now I think the problem is that he hastoomuch to say.
This is how it usually begins when there isn’t beer involved. We pulled up to our house a few minutes ago, yet neither of us has made a move to get out of the car. It feels like a game, almost. We both know there’s only one winner, but he still wants me to take my turn, to prove to him that I’m just as stupid as he says. He's clever with his punishments; the game starts way before he makes his first move. It’s planned, and it’s cruel; every minute that passes is a well-thought-out move on his behalf.
I know him, though. Eventually, I’ll be the one to begin. I’ll reach for the door handle, only to be met by his mean words and cruel hands. It’s become familiar to me now. I think if he were to behave in any other way, I would be even more scared than I am already. I suck in a big gulp of air before reaching for the buckle to unclasp the belt. My body is hot all over, and my heart feels like it’s about to explode as I press my finger firmly against the button. The springs groan against the pressure, and my coat rustles against the seat. I can't even look up, I’m too scared to face the reality of being caught, even though I know it’s coming. The pressure suddenly eases as the clasp slides from the buckle. I catch it just before it has the chance to spring free,but I can tell by the way the muscle in his neck tenses–
He knows.
He doesn’t move, not yet. His eyes stay on the steering wheel in front of him. My movements are slow as the seatbelt pulls to the side; my first pathetic attempt to not anger him further. I wrap my fingers around the door handle, pulling it gently until the metal pops free of the frame. The sound makes me jump. I close my eyes as my body freezes in place,waiting.
I don't dare move to see if the numbers on the clock have changed, so instead, I count how many breaths I take whilst I wait for his cruelty to begin.
Five… Six… Six and a half… Seven…
But nothing comes, I open my eyes to make sure that I’m not dreaming;there’s no one there.
“Get out of the car and inside the fucking house,” his voice is quiet, but close. I don’t need to turn my head to know thathis face is right beside mine; the warmth of his breath hitting my cheek tells me so. The cool air creeps in through the open door and wraps around me, icy and bitter, just like him. That’s when the fear creeps in, along with the realisation that he made the first move this time.
It’s also the same moment that I wet myself in the back seat of his car.
Chapter Three
Julian
Age 9
“Mom, can you try to hurry up? Pleeeeease!” I’m not usually so impatient, but I’ve been looking forward to today all week. Zander is coming for a sleepover, it’s the first time he will actually stay overnight, and I want everything to be perfect. I’ve been up since before the sun, making sure my room was tidy and setting up the blow-up bed beside mine. I chose the best pillows and even put my blanket on his bed; it’s Charizard, so I know he’s going to love it.
“Julian, we’re picking him up at ten; it’s now nine-fifteen. He only lives five minutes away, so I think I can have my coffee and still make it on time.”
“Bu-but what if there’s traffic?”
“It’s Saturday, honey. Most people will still be at home,” she says as she blows the steam across the top of her cup.
“Well, what if… What if the car doesn’t start?” I think I’m starting to annoy my Mom, but I like to be prepared. If the car doesn’t start, the five-minute drive will turn into a twenty-five-minute walk.
“When has the car evernotstarted?” She raises her eyebrow at me over the top of her glasses.
“Well… never, I s’pose.” She got me there. I guess I’ll get my shoes on whilst she finishes her drink, that way, we can get straight in the car and pick up Zander. I’m bursting with excitement at the idea of spending the whole day and night together. It won’t be like it is at school, where people constantly watch us or interrupt our games. We can just do whatever we want, however we want. I grab my shoes from the cupboard and sit on the bottom step. Our house isn’t big, by any means. It’s a simple ‘two-up-two-down.’ Mom always says it’s plenty big enough for us, though. I agree. I kind of like knowing that she’s only on the other side of the paper-thin walls, especially when I have a bad dream.
I slide my foot into one shoe, then pause to look at the other. They’re completely different from each other; the reason makes me smile.
“Right, are we re–” Mom stops mid-sentence when she notices the shoe in my hand. “Where’d that come from?”
“It’s Zander’s, he swapped a shoe with me when I couldn’t keep up with the rest of the class in P.E. He said it wasn’t becauseIwas slow, it was because of the shoes I was wearing. So he told me to swap one of mine for one of his, that way we would both run as fast as each other.” And he was right; for the rest of the run, he was by my side. Mom smiles, and it makes me like Zander even more, knowing that he can make my Mom just as happy as I can.
“Ok, let’s go pick him up; it doesn’t matter if we’re a little bit early, I suppose,” She winks and turns to grab her keys from the tray. Before she has the chance to turn back around, I’m already outside and tugging on the handle of the car.
Mom waits at the end of the drive. She said I could go and knock on the door to let him know we were here. I made sure to knock really loudly, because I didn’t want Zander to think we forgot about him.
“Pssst!” The noise is coming from the sky, but it doesn’t sound like a bird.Weird.
“Up here!” I look up, trying to find where the voice is coming from, when I see Zander hanging his upper body out of the upstairs window.
“What are you doing?! You’re going to fall!” My voice is wobbly and high-pitched at the thought of my best friend falling from the second floor.
