My Favourite Part

17: r&j

In honour of the chapter title & a relevant scene later on (😉), here's a gorgeous clip from The Royal Ballet's Romeo & Juliet 💌 Enjoy the chapter! x

───･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"I still can't believe Mr. Rogers was a catfish." Babe says, shutting her locker after fishing out her books for period 4.

Last night, after everything went down, I called on Lisa and Bea for their much-needed help. August and I had tried our best, but hugs, crisps and are you sure you don't want to talk, Mum? seemed to be of limited usefulness – Mum still hadn't moved, slept or eaten a thing. They came over to ours, I went over to theirs to brief Babe and fill Caz in via Facetime, and by the time we swapped over again, Mum had an Actimel in hand, and was actually speaking in full coherent sentences, instead of empty aphorisms. I thought I'd be at least a little over it by this morning, but I guess it isn't the kind of thing that a good night's sleep gets rid of.

"I can't believe your mum kicked him out," Cara adds, smoothing down baby hairs, looking intently into her locker mirror, "d'you think it's for good?"

I lean back against my locker, blank. I shrug,

"Not a clue. Honestly, I don't know if she's more upset that he lied or that it feels like another relationship that doesn't match up to when she was with my dad."

"Aw, babes..." Caz pouts, concerned. Both she and Babe have this theory that I never got over my dad leaving. Caz thinks it's why all my jackets are oversized. Babe thinks it's why I'm in love with an 'older man'.

"I mean, it's whatever, I just," I shake my head,

"I think she couldn't listen to him talk about being a 'good man' like we were some kind of challenge, you know? Like, if he could be the man Mum needs, or the father me and Auggie 'need'..." I throw air quotes around 'need', because we don't need a dad. We don't need anyone.

"...Then it's like, mission accomplished, you are now a 'good man'. I don't know." I say, turning to open my locker.

That's what Eric had thought of the whole thing when I explained it to him last night. It made a lot of sense to me. I like his literary approach to things.

I have a free period now, and I usually spend those writing outside, or in the library listening to podcasts and eating birthday party Oreos as covertly as possible without getting yelled at, but when I pull my laptop out, a small slip of lined paper, adorned with a prettily-penned 'E' floats into my hand.

            Hope you're feeling better today, my beautiful, strong Evie. I have a free morning if you need me. -E

I smile at the note; my heart flutters and I forget about Walt, Dad, all of it. In my peripheral I see Babe's eyes glance up from her phone for a moment, although she doesn't say anything. I fold up the paper like it's nothing, tuck it back into my locker, and ask,

"Babe, did your mum say anything? About what they talked about?"

If she's suspicious, her eyes don't give it away, although her tone's a little unconvincing,

"Just that men are full of shit."

"Ugh, a-men." Cara co-signs, applying a final coat of lip gloss before putting the sparkly tube back in her locker, next to a heart-framed picture of her and Dion.

Talking to the girls has put me in better spirits already, and my morning's about to take a turn for the better again. I send off a short message to Eric,