First Light

26 marlo's mum

Wednesday 24th of November 2021 (the following week)

Faye:

Quand rentres-tu pour Nöel?

I've been staring at the text on my phone for a few minutes now. Whenever the screen goes dark I find myself tapping it again, as if doing that will somehow erase the message and make it so it was never sent.

It's from my mum, asking when I'm coming back for the Christmas holidays. Only problem is, I don't want to go back. I don't want to see either of my parents. The full holiday is four weeks. I can't do four weeks of living there with them again. The only reason I'd want to go back is to see my cat Salem.

If I had it my way, I'd only go for Christmas Eve and Christmas itself, because of French tradition. In some ways, Christmas Eve is more important than the Christmas day itself, because of the réveillon dinner and present opening. I'm not looking forward to the dinner at all, because it's just us three, and I know they will both insist on talking about everything I'm doing wrong in life.

I text back, telling her I'm not sure because I still have assignments to do. That part is a half-truth because I'm nearly done with them. I know I'll be able to finish everything by the end of this week.

Her reply comes within the next few seconds.

OK.

Okay. That's how it is with her; short conversations by text and long lectures in person.

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Saturday 27th of November 2021

"When are you going back home?" Marlo asks me.

We're sitting on a tree stump in the forest and it is freezing. I'm wearing my striped fingerless gloves but they are doing absolutely nothing to warm my hands, so I've had to shove them in my coat pockets to try and help.

"I'm not sure. My mum asked me that the other day," I answer, watching my breath disappear into the air in front of me.

"And what did you say?"

"I said that I still have assignments to do," I laugh even though it's not funny, and turn to look at him. "They're all done now, though, so I guess I kind of lied to her."

He doesn't say anything for a moment, like he's trying to work out how to reply to this. "Do you not want to go back and see your parents?"

"Not really." I look away from him and down at my feet. Or at least in that direction, because I can barely see anything.

"Can I ask why not?"

Maybe I should tell him about everything they've done.

"I don't really have a good relationship with them. Not to sound ungrateful, but they aren't very good at being parents."

I can tell he's waiting in case I want to add anything else, but I don't.

"I don't think that makes you sound ungrateful. I would probably agree with you if I knew how they were," He shifts slightly. "You don't really wanna go back to see them at all, do you?"