One More Thing

Chapter One: The Worst Day of my Entire Life

"Valerie," says Dad, fingers drumming on the steering wheel. "There's something I've been meaning to tell you."

My shoulders stiffen.

"What is it?"

Dad sighs, taking a sip of coffee from a pink travel mug that once belonged to mum.

It's a cold day. Rain thrashes against the windscreen like a ricochet of bullets and I've never felt more grateful for being inside a car.

"I'm seeing someone," says Dad.

I'd guessed as much. The new aftershave. The sudden onset of "gotta stay late tonight, work needs me" text messages. The ping ping ping of his phone and the trying-not-to-smile smiles. It was pretty obvious that something was going on from the get-go.

"Oh," I say. "Who?"

Dad chews his lip and tries to avoid looking at me. After ten seconds of awkward silence, he finally speaks.

"I wasn't sure how to tell you this," he says.

"Why? It's not a teacher is it?" I grimace.

"Nope. Not a teacher. You're in luck."

Phew!

"Is it someone I know?"

Before Dad can reply, we're interrupted by an angry knocking on the passenger window. I jump, almost spilling my hot chocolate.

"You're blocking my car!" shouts Meg Sellers, a loud bratty girl in my year. Sydney Hammond stands behind her, staring at us icily.

Dad winds the window down, a little too late, and apologises. They've already gone, Sydney's straight blonde ponytail swishing behind her like a metronome.

Dad starts the car frantically and pulls out, nearly crashing into the school bus behind us.

"Dad!"

"Sorry," he says. "Agh. I'm not having a good day, am I?"

I laugh nervously as we drive away. The wind howls, creeping through the top of my window. Dad closes it quickly, shutting the cold air out.

I like this time of year. There is something otherworldly about the warm hazy light and falling orange leaves; a world on the cusp of change.

And it's even better when you're clutching a warm hot chocolate brought to you by your dad as an after-school treat. He's started doing this every Friday since his work shift pattern changed. Two hot drinks from the local Costa Coffee. One for him, one for me.

"So, what were you going to tell me?" I ask him.

"Ah, yes. That."

I nod patiently, searching for answers in his eyes.

"I'm dating a lady called Cathy," says Dad.

"I don't think I know any Cathys," I say.

"Yeah. I don't think you'll have met her before."

"Surname?"

"Hammond."

Hammond.

Hammond.

Sydney Hammond.

No.

It can't be.

"She has a daughter in your year," Dad says nonchalantly.

Shitshitshit.

"Ah," I say, trying to hide how horrified I am at this news. "We literally just saw her, Dad."

"What? She wasn't the one who shouted at us, was she?"

I don't think I've ever seen him look this scared before. His blue eyes are so wide they're almost perfect circles behind his thick-framed glasses.

"No! She was the other one," I say.

"Ah," he sighs, semi-relieved. "Well, I hope she won't recognise me."

I'm about to say that she definitely saw me, but decide against it. Dad has been happy lately, for the first time in a long time. I don't have the heart to put a dampener on his mood.

I try to smile but my face is heavy. Why, out of all the girls in the school, did Cathy's daughter have to be Sydney?

I wonder if she knows. About her mum dating my dad. I don't think she does. If she did, she'd be so horrified she'd probably go into a coma for a hundred years and still wake up with a scowl.

"Do you know Sydney well?" asks Dad.

"Not really. She's one of the popular kids. I don't think we'd have a lot in common."

Dad nods slowly as we pull up on the drive.

"That... doesn't surprise me," he says.

What is that supposed to mean?

We get out the car and shut the doors. Dad pulls the front door key from his pocket as we step onto the porch.

"I'd like you to meet Cathy sometime," he says, looking at me imploringly. "Only when you're ready, though. There's no rush, Val."

"Yeah, I'd like to meet her at some point," I say politely.

Once we're back inside, I put down my school bags and make an excuse to go upstairs. The house is quiet. Lucas, my younger brother, is playing basketball until late in the evening. He's been spending a lot more time out of the house lately.

I shut my bedroom door and throw myself onto the bed.

I can't help but feel hopeless.

I don't want to meet Cathy.

I don't want to interact with Sydney any more than I already have to.

I just wish none of this had happened.

Maybe if mum was still here, things would be better.

Tears well in my eyes and, for the first time in a long time, I let them fall.