Ange (girlxgirl)

Chapter Forty-four

I'm on the road by 4 in the morning on Monday so that I can get there just after lunch. When I told Dad as soon as he and Katherine got home, he said he was pleased that we were seeing each other only he was a little concerned about amount of school I'm missing. Emma and Carol were also happy and Natalie texted me last night saying she was proud of me and that she hopes it all goes well. I'm on the outskirts of Sydney and my stomach is churning. One of the last times I spoke to Joan we both said extremely hurtful and hateful things that weren't necessarily true. I find my way through the city to her apartment building, right in the middle of Sydney with a view of the Opera House and Bridge. I park and get my bags, taking the lift to the top and waiting outside the door, seriously considering turning back around. I knock, my mouth is dry, palms are sweaty and I shift my bag to my other shoulder. I hear footsteps coming towards the door and the sound of locks unlocking and low and behold, there stands Joan. She has a tear sliding down her cheek and before I can say anything at all, she grabs me in a big bear hug.

"I'm sorry," she whispers as we stand there in the hug.

"Me too," I whisper back.

That is all that needed to be said. We forgive each other and move on from a grudge that we have held against each other for four years.

"Just look at me, I'm a mess." Joan remarks, wiping her cheeks and walking into her apartment.

"Bloody hell." I gasp, dropping my bag in the hall and looking out the window.

"Yeah, it is great isn't it?" Joan says.

I turn to look at her. She looks nearly exactly like mum, expect for her shoulder length, wavy orange-red hair, similar to Carol's. She is skinner than her recent Instagram pictures suggest, her clothes seem to hang off her and she paler and broken looking then the old usual, her eyes are red from crying earlier and she looks a little daunting. I smile at her.

"Where is Jack?" I say conversationally.

"He is at uni?"

"Do you still have your dog?"

"No," she tells me sadly. "He got sick and died two months before we moved into here."

"That's sad," I sympathise.

"Do you want a bite to eat or drink?"

"Actually, I haven't had lunch yet."

"Awesome, we will go out." She rushes down the hallway and into a room, still yelling out to me. "I'm just getting dressed. God, you are a lot skinner then usual and you have gotten hotter. Not as hot as me though, of course."

I laugh and relax, realising that everything has pretty much returned to the old sisterly ways.

The next three days pass really quickly and I still haven't told Joan, I'm scared for her reaction and there never seemed to be a good time. Joan has changed since four years ago, she is a lot more laid back but never fully happy. She is extremely funny, but when she laughs she never really seems to lose herself in the joke or moment. Over the three days I meet her friends (one of them really pretty), eat at expensive places, talk like nothing ever happened and laugh more then ever.

I open the mirror cabinet and see bottles of pills, I shuffle through them all. Anti-depressants, sleeping pills, valium, herbal pills and heaps of other tablets for mental health and problems. I finally realise why Joan is always here, but at the same time not really here at all. I feel pity wash over myself, I close the cabinet and remind myself to not feel pity because Joan despises it as much as me, but now I see why people do, it is an easy feeling to feel for someone. I look back at myself in the mirror, this is my last chance to tell Joan, I leave tomorrow and I will regret it if I don't tell her in person and I'll regret it even more if I don't tell her this time.