The Boy With The Hopeless Dreams

Chapter Three

After the hour was up, I stood up and walk to the school gate with Sam. We made small talk, but it wasn’t like the awkward small talk you make with your parents’ friends at the occasional gatherings I was forced to go to; it was comfortable. We chatted mainly about our dislike for school and homework. 

At the gates, he turned right and sauntered off while I turned left and basically skipped all the way home. I have since realised that was why people kept staring at me…

I opened the front door and was welcomed home by the familiar sounds of shouting. Oh, the joys of arguing parents. My mum and dad haven’t got on for about a year now, ever since Dad started coming home later and later from his new job. 

Of course, I thought nothing of it when he first took the job but after two months, three lipstick stains and countless secret phone calls, I knew something was wrong.  But I moved that issue to the back of my mind this evening as I wished only to revel in my memories of the time I’d spent with Sam.

“Hello, Lily.” Mum appeared in the kitchen doorway, eyes red and puffy from crying.  Again. Dad stood sheepishly behind her, his eyes not meeting mine. Again. “How was school?”

I rolled my eyes and started walking upstairs. I was so fed up off all of this arguing.  Mum and Dad were whisper fervently behind me.  I personally thought it would be much easier if they just got a divorce and moved on. Nobody in the family was happy, not even my five year old sister, Mac. But then again, a broken family wouldn’t be a nice thing to be a part of.

I flopped down on my bed, staring up at the glow-in-the-dark solar system on my ceiling. I’d always loved stars and the idea that something great lay out there, albeit millions of miles away, but still out there. It made my problems seem somewhat smaller and less significant. 

The door creaked open and Mac came bounding in, her toy rabbit, Olivia, clutched tightly to her chest.  She looked at me with her sad, doe-like eyes.

“Lily, why are Mummy and Daddy angry at each other?”  I hated when she asked me that and she did at least once a week.

“Well, Mac, when adults are acting like big idiots they lose their temper and get cross.  It just shows how stupid grown-ups are.”  A small frown creased her little forehead.

“Are Mummy and Daddy cross at me?”  Oh, the poor thing. How do I explain this?

“No, sweetheart, of course not. Who could ever get mad at you?” I kissed her on the nose and pulled her close to me, breathing in the sweet smell of Play-Dough and detangling spray.  She snuggled into me and asked if I could sing to her.  Normally, I would have refused but I thought I’d make an exception today. 

After I’d finished the first verse of the nursery rhyme she joined in and we sat there, singing silly songs, drowning out the shouting that had started up again downstairs. 

An hour later, the door slammed and Mac had fallen asleep on my chest.  I really ought to do Mrs. Chadwick’s homework but I just couldn’t bring myself to spending another hour doing physics I don’t understand. 

Begrudgingly, I peeled Mac from me and lay her back down on the bed.  She looked so peaceful.  Oh, how I wished to be a child again; you had nothing to worry about other than what colour shoes you’d wear and which Peppa Pig picture to colour in.  Mac had no idea what was coming. 

As I opened my folder, there came a soft knock on the door and it opened quietly.  It was Mum.

“Lily, darling, can I have a word please?” She said.  I noticed her voice was shaking. We walked downstairs and into the living room, all sorts of awful ideas running through my head.  Once seated, Mum took my hands in hers and looked me straight in the eye.  “I don’t quite know how to tell you this… But… Your father’s left.”  I stared at her incredulously.

“Left? As in gone to Tesco?”

“No. ‘Left’ as in left us for another woman.” I placed my head on her shoulder and started to weep. I don’t think I was weeping for myself though. I was weeping for Mac and for everything she would miss out on because our dad had walked out.  “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault.”

“No, Mum, it’s not, I promise. You can’t help it that Dad’s a senseless pig.” She laughed. Good.

“You mustn’t tell Mac, not yet.”

“Mustn’t tell me what?” Mac was standing in the doorway, sleep lines on her face.

“Nothing, Mac. Want to hear a story?” I asked, wiping my eyes surreptitiously with my sleeve.  She bounded over and leaped into my lap.  I told her a story about a beautiful princess and how she was saved by the most magnificent prince ever to have lived.  I watched her brow furrow as she listened, waiting for the antagonist to defeat the evil witch, and as her face lit up when the prince and princess ended up living happily ever after. She doesn’t know that “happily ever after” doesn’t exist. But I wasn’t going to be the one to tell her that.

Two hours later, Mac was tucked up in bed and Mum and I were sitting at the table.  Dinner had been a silent affair.  I pushed my chair out, thanked Mum for doing dinner and headed out of the room.  It’s not that I didn’t want to talk to her. I did, but I just didn’t want her to see me cry again. I shut my bedroom door, put my pyjamas on and got into bed with no hope of getting any sleep.  I reached over to my bedside table and checked my phone, my vision blurry from fresh tears. It flashed with one new message; probably from Amy. As I opened the message, I saw that it was from a number I didn’t know. I wiped my eyes and read:

“Lily, this is Sam. I got your number off of Amy just before our detention. Hope you don’t mind. Thanks for looking after me today. S x”

My heart stopped. It was a text from Sam! I forgot about everything as I read the text a million times.  He’d called it “our detention”. It was basically a date. Maybe. My fingers fumbled over the keypad as I replied:

“Hey Sam. Yeah that’s fine :) don’t worry about it! Hope your day was good. See you tomorrow. L x”

That seemed like a pretty casual reply. I hit send and put my phone back on charge, grinning like a maniac.  Then I realised what had happened that evening and the smile vanished. I laid my head down on the pillow and prayed. Normally I don’t pray but tonight I thought I may as well try. Maybe there really was something out there listening to me, watching out for me.  Maybe everything that had happened was all part of a plan; a plan that could turn out for the better.  I clung on to that thought as I drifted in and out of restless sleep, feeling like a bundle of mixed emotions. I was joyously happy because of Sam and so painfully sad that Dad didn’t love Mac and Mum and me enough to stay.  How can you go into a marriage, knowing full well that you have promised you will love someone until you die, only to break that promise and leave them behind? What’s the point? It seems like a pretty big waste of everybody’s time to get married if that’s how it ends…  Unless it was true and some people really did live happily ever after with one person.  Hopefully, there will be that one person for me or else I’m calling it quits on love.  I said to myself I would forget about Dad. He can go stuff himself.

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Oh no.... stupid Dad.

But WONDERFUL Sam.

Mmm Sam! Please doooo let me know what you think!

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Meg x