For the Love of Sam and Eva

Five Things

“What did you do to yourself?” Dad demanded as soon as I walked in the front door.

I knew I should have taken the back entrance.

I bit my lip nervously, debating whether to give him the full truth or give him half of it to spare Sam. It was a hard decision, especially since he was becoming a friend of mine.

But if I was going down, I was taking Sam with me.   

“You know that guy I went ice skating with today?”

He nodded his head, arms folded across his big chest.

“I don’t know how it happened, but I ended up doing something and fractured my wrist.” I squeezed my eyes shut and braced myself for his reaction.

It actually wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.

“Honey! Get me the police now!” Dad boomed, storming towards the phone. I had no idea why he’d asked Mum to get them when he was on his own way to get them, but I was already running towards him and trying to pull him back. It was like attempting to stop a bulldozer.

“It was an accident, Dad! Chill out!” I yelled.

That was six weeks ago. He didn’t end up calling the police despite how much he’d scared me into believing he would.  Instead, he scolded me for being clumsy. Me! Sam was the clumsy one, not me.

I eventually learnt – after a couple of rather deep conversations – he was renowned for his lack of hand-eye coordination. I was known for my failed attempts at ballet; not because I couldn’t do it, but because I felt strange wearing a pink tutu at the age of seven. There were even pictures of those times, hidden somewhere my mum though I wouldn’t be able to find.

I’d have to burn them later.

By having my arm crook for the past six weeks, I’d been left to watch my netball team on the sidelines and cheer them on as they scored goals I’d never seen them do before. The new coach was a strange woman with fuzzy blonde hair and too many bracelets around her wrists. Every time she moved it was followed by the clanging of her metal bands. 

“Aw, darl, look at the messes you get yourself into.” Mum tutted her tongue, shaking her head at me as I tried to eat my biscuit without the crumbs falling into the sling. Dad simply rolled his eyes, still in a cranky mood. I knew he would be like this. He was able to hold grudges for years, and now I had to suffer under his brooding gaze for ages until this blew over.

“It’s been six weeks. I’m pretty sure my wrist is fine now. I might even be able to take off my sling.”

Mum hummed in agreement, taking a seat next to Dad at the table. “All righty then. I’ll take you to the doctor’s tomorrow.” I saw her grasp Dad’s hand around his cup of coffee. Something about the way their fingers weaved together without realising and the slight smile tugging on Dad’s lips brought a warm, fuzzy feeling to my stomach.     

There were muted thuds of footsteps upstairs, drawing my attention to the ceiling. Nina was abruptly shooting down the stairs like a rocket, pieces of her clothing flying behind her. She caught sight of me with my crumbling biscuits and giggled.

“Shut up.” I grumbled at her.

She’d been giving me hell since the accident because at the moment, she got to drive us school. But I liked to point out the fact one of our parents had to be in the car with her because she was on her learner’s licence. 

Haha.

Ha.

But one glance at her and I felt insignificant. Her hair, the same dark mahogany shade as mine, was crimped and chopped into layers. She had Mum’s blue eyes, which were currently outlined thickly with eyeliner, and her lashes were curled. How on earth she did that I had no idea. She had a tight and not-so-modest outfit clad on her slender body and I could have sworn I saw something lacy underneath it. Mum narrowed her eyes at Nina, daring her.