The John Hughes Club

Chapter Four

Well, I've survived my first week at Archleigh High School. After our first lunch together yesterday, Chas sat with me again today. The stares seemed to get less and less, the more and more we chatted. By the time that Zigs and Ella joined us, the staring and the discreet whispers had all but gone. I can honestly say, this Friday has been my best day for being at my new school. It's the only day that I've felt relaxed during my time there. I now know where I'm going. I'm getting to know the teachers. I'm feeling more confident about engaging more in some classes—not Maths, though...does anyone ever want to engage in that class? Yeah, I think I'm starting to settle in.

"Mindy! I hope you've got everything ready?!" Mum's shouting up the stairs, reminding me to make sure that I have everything I need for when dad comes to collect me.

I can't wait to see him, I really can't. It was three weeks ago I last saw him, through a bucketful of tears in each eyeball, when I left Stratford-upon-Avon. It was during the Easter break, and with an huge chocolate egg being held under my one arm, that I'd clung to dad with my other. It was awful. I didn't want the chocolate, I just wanted my dad. I didn't want to go to Minehead, I only wanted to stay with him.

"I'll see you after your first week at your new school. You can tell me all about it, when I see you then." Is what dad had affectionately said to me, hugging me hard and kissing the top of my head.

The worst part about that was; hearing the emotion in his voice. Hearing his deep and strong dad voice, become brittle with the goodbye that we were having to say, splintered my heart into a trillion pieces. So as I'm shoving my makeup bag deeper into my rucksack, I'm smiling. Soon, dad will be here. Soon, we'll be talking and laughing like we always do. Giving my new bedroom one final check with a roaming stare, I'm looking forward to being back in my old bedroom at dad's. This room is quite nice, it has everything I need—a bed, dressing table, wardrobe, some shelves and a newly carpeted floor—but it's devoid of the finishing touches that both my old bedrooms had. My old room with mum and my bedroom at dad's, both had my Mindy mark on them. My best pencil drawings were always proudly displayed on one wall, while another wall was full of pictures of my many fun times with my friends, then I'd have strings of fairy lights just about everywhere—wrapped around my headboard, around my mirror, dangling on my shelves and draped around the doorway. For a girl who loves the blackest of makeup, I do love the prettiest of lights. I also love thick and fluffy blankets, soft and funky cushions and faux fur rugs. I think that once I return to this new room of mine, I'll start putting my Mindy mark on it. I'll put up the fairy lights, get out from the storage boxes my blankets, cushions and rugs. The only reason I haven't yet done that, is quite simply, because I've been having a stand-off with my mum. I didn't want to be in Minehead. I didn't want my new room. So there was no way in hell I was going to make my new room be like my old room. But something has changed course inside of me. I'm not feeling so angry. Not feeling so full of resentment. Does this mean I want to stay in Minehead with my mum? No, it doesn't. It just means that I'm beginning to accept all that's happening in my life. I don't want to stay in Minehead, but know that I must. I also know that dad will come and take me back to Stratford, whenever he possibly can, and that my old room will be there when he does. I guess, I'm accepting change. These changes have been coming for a very long time. Now that they're here, me and my teenage thoughts, feelings and hormones just have to learn to roll with them.
Mum and dad divorcing, I'm rolling with it.
Mum and I moving to Minehead, rolling with it.
Mum has a date tonight, not exactly rolling with it.
I don't know why I have a chip on my shoulder about it, but I do.
My parents split about two years ago, have been living separately for most of those two years, but their marriage had already died six years ago—the day that we lost my sister. Grief and the ball of blame kept being thrown between them. In the end, it killed their love and their marriage. Dad was always the one who had tried to make it work, while mum was the one who always refused to let that happen. Which is why I don't like her liking someone else. My dad is an amazing man, and it hurts when my mum can't see that. I'll never see a man who is any better than my father, so I can't get my head around the fact that my mum so easily can. With that in mind, I want to get out of here the moment that my dad arrives. They'll be no 'have a nice time on your date, Mum' from me. Nope, not happening! No, I shall leave mum, her date and Minehead, temporarily behind me. My weekend is going to be full of my dad, my old friends and familiarity of just about everything.