When The School Bell Rings

• CHAPTER • FORTY THREE •

A pounding headache wakes me up from my sleep, terrorising me as soon as I open my eyes. 

I groan as the morning light peeks through my blinds, exposing me to the outside before I'm ready. 

Turning to my side, I smile when I see Advil and a glass of water sat on my bedside table. I know one of the guys must have put it there when they literally scooped me into bed last night. 

If it wasn't for my dad coming home from rehab today, I would have gone back with them and probably embarrassed myself even more than I already did. 

Shit. 

Dad. 

Forcing myself out of bed, I put on my dressing gown and head down to the kitchen. I pull out some ingredients from the fridge and start whipping up some pancakes, dancing to the music I put on. I mix the batter with my eyes closed, my hips swaying to the melody as I hum along. 

A shrill voice snaps me out of my peaceful morning.

"Morning, Camille," Zoe says from behind me. I hear the scrape of a bar stool being pulled out from the kitchen island, giving me the sinking feeling that she's staying. 

I take a breath before turning around, plastering a fake smile on my face. 

"Good morning, Zoe. Did you sleep well? Or was sleeping with my two brothers keeping you awake?" I greet her before putting on a fake-thinking face, "or maybe it was being a backstabbing bitch that made you toss and turn last night?"

She rolls her eyes, reaching for the carton of orange juice and pouring herself a glass. She takes a dramatic sip before sighing loudly. 

"I slept very well, thank you," she smiles back at me, winking insinuatingly. 

Ew. 

"What's for breakfast?" she peers over the counter expectantly, the short shirt she's wearing riding up to expose her panties. 

This girl. 

"Pancakes. Dad's home today so," I trail off, trying to politely insinuate she should leave. Instead, she sinks back in her seat and looks at her nails casually. 

"Oh yeah, heard about that. At least now you can work again," she points to my healed arm, causing me to clench my fists. 

"Okay, I'm kinda done playing nice," I drop my spoon in the mixing bowl and walk round to her, leaning in, "Leave my house or I'll pull you out by your fake blonde extensions. Got it?"

She smirks at me before hopping off the stool, straight into the arms of Noah, who has just walked in. 

"What's going on?" he stretches out, his voice raspy from sleep. 

"Nothing," I beam at him fakery, "just telling your girlfriend to leave before Dad gets here." 

He looks between us, trying to figure out what's best to do, before settling on Zoe's puppy-dog face. 

"Sorry, babe," he shrugs. She stomps her foot furiously and storms upstairs, emerging a few minutes later with her dress back on and Oscar following behind with a confused face. 

"Bye bestie," I fake wave at her before slamming the door I was holding open for her. Noah and Oscar look between each other for a few seconds in confusion.

"Breakfast?" Oscar finally asks, acting like that didn't just happen. 

"Sure," I walk back into the kitchen and heat up the stove. They surprise me by preparing other things for breakfast, making it a quick team effort that has breakfast served in less than 15 minutes. 

We sit down and start eating in silence, our hunger taking over our senses. After about five minutes of no-one speaking, they finally break the silence. 

"Hey, Camille," Noah starts, making me look up from my plate expectantly, "We kinda...well...um", he looks to Oscar for help. I furrow my eyebrows at them. 

"We just wanted to say... we know we've been taking advantage of you... and, well, we want to do our bit... Yano," Oscar continues, passing a look back to Noah to speak. 

"We're looking for jobs and we're going to help with Dad," Noah nods nervously. 

My jaw drops at their apology.

I look between them, expecting them to burst out laughing and call it all a prank but they look at me with serious faces. 

"Um," I stutter, trying to get words out but they don't come. Instead, I just stare at them, blinking in shock as I try to digest what they said. 

"Well... we're just sorry," Oscar says and Noah nods, muttering 'sorry' before darting his eyes down at his plate. 

"It's okay," I breathe out, feeling a breath I've been holding in for years finally leave my body. An inexplicable weight feels lifted, like I can finally focus on myself again.

Just as I am about to say something else, the front door pushes open to reveal a slightly skinnier, less pale Dad than the one that overdosed a few months ago. 

"I'm home," he smiles widely, sobriety covering his face.

We all leap up, running for a hug whilst we enjoy the probably temporary feeling of having our sober father back. 

He really is a good father when he's not drunk or high.

Whilst he catches up with Noah and Oscar, I walk to the kitchen to dish him up some pancakes. I glance at my phone quickly, sending a quick Morning text to the group chat before heading to the table with his plate. 

He tucks in, raving about how much better the food is than in Rehab. 

We catch up with him, laughing at his jokes as he tells us of the weirdos that were with him in recovery. He smiles widely, the effects of antidepressants clear in his face. 

"And guess what," he announces, taking a final bite of his food before pushing the empty plate away, "I got a job."

My jaw drops for the second time this morning and I can't help but jump up and hug him, knowing this is a whole new step that he's never reached before. 

"Where?" Noah asks, smiling widely, along with his brother. 

"Security for a private firm. They said my military training was just what they were looking for," Dad smiles proudly at us. 

"That's perfect," Oscar nods in agreement. 

"It'll be different this time, kids. I know it," Dad pulls us all in for a group hug, kissing each of the top of our heads affectionately. 

God, I hope so. 

Will it? 

Place your bets?

Also... meh <3