The Significance of Orange Juice

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

“Well done on your results.” My father congratulated formally and my mother nodded in agreement.

                I frowned. Was that it? Two As and two A*s and all I got was a well done? Surely, the least they could do is apologise for enrolling me in a summer course. I chewed on the inside of my cheek as I tried to restrain myself. There was nothing more I wanted than to jump up and down in front of them until they acknowledged my achievement. To scream in their faces until they actually dignified me with a proper conversation as opposed to five measly words.

                I pushed myself to my feet, cutting off my internal ranting. “I’m going to my room.” I said flatly and headed up the stairs before they could comment. Reaching the safety of my room, I flopped down on to my bed with a groan.

                My boob started vibrating and I fished around in my bra to retrieve my phone. I accepted the call and grunted a hello.

                “Wow, talk about déjà vu; you’ve faceplanted on the bed again, haven’t you?”

                Olivia knew the answer to that question so I kept quiet and waited for her to explain what she wanted. There was a pause, before Olivia began again, slightly more compassionately than before.

                “You shouldn’t worry about what they think. It’s your grades, it’s you who needs to be happy with them.”

                I sat up and began rummaging around for the sketchpad I kept stored next to my bed.

                “Yeah, but they’re still my parents. Would it kill them to just be happy for me for once? I got the grades that they wanted.” I complained as I turned to a clean page in the sketchbook and pulled a pencil from my bun. My hair tumbled down around my face as the pencil that was holding it was removed and I brushed it away from my eyes with a huff.

                There was another long pause from the other end of the phone and I turned on loudspeaker so that I could sketch while she talked.

                “They think that Rhys would have done better than me.” I said quietly after the pause got to awkward to bear anymore. My pencil flew across the sketchpad, making elegant lines on the paper as I transferred the image from my mind.

                “Honey, you’ve got to stop thinking like that,” came Olivia’s voice from the corner of the bed where I’d tossed my phone, “Rhys is gone. What matters is that you are here and that you have got amazing grades. Not Rhys, not anyone else – you. Isabelle Franklin.”

                My pencil faltered on the page.

                “Right, that’s it,” Olivia said decisively, “I’m on my way over.”

                “Olivia, there’s really no -” I began, feeling bad for ruining her good mood over her results.

                “I can’t hear you!” Olivia sang childishly. “See you soon!”

                I was still protesting as the beep signalled that Olivia was no longer on the other end of the line. I looked at my phone in amazement. Looked like Olivia was coming over then.

                I returned to my drawing and picked up where I had left off, with only a faint jolt left to show where I had hesitated. I quickly lost myself in the drawing and it could have been hours or minutes later when I finally heard Olivia greeting my parents downstairs. I signed and dated my work before poking my pencil back into my hair.