When the Lights Go Out {complete first draft}

Day Four - Perhaps the Most Important Question of All

Please, Friday, leave

 

It’s an important question to ask yourself, or be asked by someone else, isn’t it? Most people don’t know the answer to it – some people can say straight away, though. They’ve always known. I would have known, too, had I been asked before that day, the day I died.

                  My mother had grabbed me, pulled me away from the school’s swimming pool, away from my Coach, the college scout, my friends and family. She dragged me by the arm down the corridor and out the door. When we got to the car, she opened the passenger door and looked at me. Her eyes told me to get in the car, so I did, quietly. She shut the door behind me and moved around to the driver’s side. Then she gunned it out of the parking lot and drove down the road. As she stopped at red lights, she vigorously wiped at her eyes, but she didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to say anything either, I didn’t want to upset or disappoint her more than I already had.

                  After five minutes, she stopped. Kendal had sent me five messages in that space of time, and Vincent had tried to call me – I didn’t want to speak to him, he’d left me by the car, alone, without a way to get to school in time for… well, anything – I ignored the call.  

                  My mom cut the ignition and reached down into the foot well of my seat. She picked out her purse from her briefcase and got out of the car. I looked around the parking lot. Surround us was a Walgreens, a hair salon, Starbucks, and The Ranch, a restaurant. Although the car park was large, not many cars were here. To be shopping, or eating, at four on a Friday afternoon was unusual. Everyone was still working till five, and then the partying began – the weekend started. 

                  She stood in front of the car and beckoned me out. I quickly got out, not wanting to anger her anymore. I wanted to please her – especially now, especially because I was running out of time – and so I did as I was told. She turned on her heel and headed into The Ranch. I followed just in time to hear my mom ask for a quiet table for two near the back of the restaurant. We followed the waiter, passing tables with families with young children eating burgers and pasta, and an old couple that looked like they were in a heated conversation. The walls were a dark red colour, and the curtains were a purple tartan. There were hundreds of little lights in the room. If I stared at them for long enough, they looked like little stars in the sky.

                  “Here you are,” the waiter said, setting down two menus. My mom took a seat in the little booth, and patted the seat next to her.

                  “Thank you,” she said nicely to the waiter. He nodded and left, giving us some time to look at the menu. “I’m going to order a whiskey,” my mom said to me as she scanned through the list.

                  “You’re driving.”

                  “I could get a cab – or you could drive. I need a drink, though.” 

                  “We’ll have to get a cab,” I muttered, looking at the menu. I didn’t know what we were doing here, so I didn’t know whether to think about ordering food or not. We only usually ordered food together, out, as a family, to celebrate. Mom had dumped Jowan on Kendal when she’d stormed out of school with me, so they had to find their own way home. I didn’t think we were going to be here that long, if we needed to get back to them, and feed them. “What are we doing here, mom?”

                  “I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt. I’ll give you one chance.”

                  I glanced around the dark room. Two waiters were at a nearby table, clearing it. the semll of food wafted in from the kitchens. When I glanced back at my mom, she was still looking at the menu, but she was tapping her finger against it, too. “What?”