Ecstasy

Chapter 63

Calla:

I ran for my buzzing phone, expecting Mum. I touched the home button. The screen lit up and there he was. His picture, yet again. I let my tense shoulders relax.

"Do you need to get that?"

I turned to look at Emma. "No. It can wait." I put my phone back on top of my bag and returned to the desk. The library was still. We were the last two people left. The librarians had left the key on the reception desk for us to lock up after we left.

"Right so we have finally worked out how to do that equation, what about this one?" Emma went on.

I wondered why he wouldn't just give up. It was hard on both of us. I felt like crying after every phone call, and I did most days. Brisbane was definitely more busy and crowded than little Tweed Shire, Murwillumbah. I felt lost in the streets, and the train system was so confusing. I longed for the small intimate streets of home, where he could just walk over a few streets to my house. The schools in Brisbane were different too, Mum had enrolled me in a private girls college, determined to make sure my focus was back on study and off boys. I didn't blame her. Although I couldn't do a performance arts program like my old school. I didn't like maths. The numbers were worse than letters, writhing on the page like ants or worms. I felt like smacking them dead.

"Calla? Earth to Calla?" Emma called me out of my thinking. She said my name funny. I didn't feel like correcting her. I knew if Tyson were here, he would.

"Maybe we should call it a day. You seem distracted. Is everything okay?" She looked concerned.

Emma was nice. Although I missed Mitchie and Phoebe dearly.

"Yeah," I tried a smile. "Just tired."

"Okay, we'll pick it up tomorrow, I have hockey practice at lunchtime so, after school?"

I nodded in response.

***

Aunt Carol reminded me more of Gran than Mum. Her hair was streaked with greys and she had the same hook nose. I'm sure in her time she was very beautiful. I couldn't understand why she never married.

She may have looked like Gran but she didn't cook like her. During our month long stay I had assumed the role of cooking dinner. It was hard in the cramped kitchen. The house was a tiny old federation home with only three bedrooms. I had to share a room with Sylvie and Mum took the other guest bedroom, although she spent most of her time lying on the couch in front of the TV in her pyjamas. She didn't seem to be motivated to do anything these days. She hadn't found herself a job although the hospital had contacted us more than once for shiftwork that needed to be filled. She just sat on the couch and immersed herself in cheesy daytime television. It was fine. She needed some time. I understood that. But I needed her too. Sylvie wouldn't eat anything and I was doing all the parenting. School work was hard and Emma was trying to tutor me but she wasn't as good as Mum was as at understanding me. Despite all our arguments during homework, I missed her.

***

The room was dark except for Sylvie's pink Barbie nightlight plugged into the socket beside the door. I had laid in bed for the last three hours just listening to her breathe in the bed next to me. The quiet and the dark was when I couldn't really keep my memories at bay. I could conjure him up in the darkness and he would be lying right beside me. Touching me. Whispering he wouldn't leave. A blissful, ignorant moment before everything turned to ash. I sighed and looked over at my phone on the dresser.

I could almost feel his breathe in my hair, on my neck. God I missed him. I missed him so much it physically hurt. That's why I couldn't call him. I shouldn't.

Suddenly the silence was permeated by the trilling of my mobile.

"No!" I cursed, jumping out of bed. I must have forgotten to put it on silent. I skipped across the creaking wooden floors and answered the phone before it made any more noise.

"Hello?" I said.

"Hey." It was Mitchie.

I felt tension release in my chest. "Hey," I whispered. I slowly opened the door and stepped out into the hallway to talk.

"How are you?" Mitchie's voice sounded too far away. Millions of miles.

"I'm," I hesitated, "okay."

"Talk to me," she insisted.

I sighed and sat down on the cold floor against the wall. "I just miss home."

"I know. I miss you."

We were quiet for a beat.

"You need to talk to him."

"I can't." I put my head in my hands.

"He's told me you won't answer any of his calls. He's not doing good Calla."

"I – I can't Mitchie," My voice cracked. "Mum wants to move here permanently. It's our last year of school. I can't change schools again. We just have to learn to live apart."

"Okay," Mitchie agreed, "but that doesn't mean you can't talk."

I swallowed and tossed my head back. "It'll be easier to just drift apart than it would be to string it along. I can't deal with it Mitchie." I felt my voice wobble. "Every time I hear his voice, I just–" I couldn't continue.

"I know, I know. Please don't cry. I don't want to make you cry."

I took a shaking breath.

"I'm okay." I released the breath steadily.

"Good. Because I'll come up next week."

"What? How?" I asked.

"I'll take a train, and a bus. And another train. If I have to." She laughed.

I smiled.

"Okay?" She asked.

"Okay," I replied.