New Kid in America

Chapter 8

As soon as I walk in the door I am herded into the living room by Dad, who apparently has come back to talk to us. Mum is sat on the sofa next to Heather with a cup of tea in her hand and an icy glare for Dad. I sit on the arm chair and Dad stands in the middle of the room, looking between us all awkwardly. I can tell he's not sure what to say, but it must be important if he's not at work right now.
"Right," He begins, "I'm sure both you girls know what is happening, but I'm just here to explain further. Then I'll be taking Cassie to Trevor's and be back to work."
"It's nice to see you too Dad," I interject sarcastically, trying to hide my excitement at seeing Trevor, my cousin. "And yes, I had a lovely last day, except from the fact that I now come from a broken home."
"Come on, Cass," Heather squeaks, "Don't be so rude. Give him a chance to speak."
"Oh do shut up," I snap impatiently, "You were the one who said he was wrong."
"Oh my gosh, Cass, you're so mean!"
"I told you to shut up, you insufferable, pathetic, toady lickspittle!"
"Oh speak English!"
"I am, sorry if your uneducated ears couldn't understand my intellect."
"Oh, you're such a-"
"-Girls!" Dad interrupts, causing both of us to look back at him. "Now please, calm yourselves. And no questions 'till the end. And Fiona, no interrupting. Just let me explain."

According to Dad, the past few months he and Mum have been having a lot of trouble. So much so, they filed for a divorce last month. The original trouble was caused by Mum's total disregard for Granddad's death which upset Dad a lot. He was very close to his father, and it was total bad luck that my auntie Greta, Mum's sister, was getting married on the same day as the funeral. Mum made Dad go to the wedding instead, but he snuck away in the middle of the service and I went with him to the funeral. Since then, things have been bad between them, but they put on an act around me and Heather so as not to upset us. They were considering withdrawing the afore mentioned divorce until Dad was offered this once-in-a-lifetime job in America and accepted it. Mum was upset he didn't talk to her first and they are going through with the divorce next week. The big effect is: Mum gets custody of Heather, but I go with Dad. To America. In two weeks from now.

Heather and I sit dumbfounded as Dad finishes his story. How did we have no idea they were having trouble? Why didn't they tell us? We are 15 after all. Mum walks over to me and whispers, "I'm so sorry, Cassandra. But I'll stay in touch."
"Oh well that's reassuring," I retort. "You know, it's nice that my mother wants to stay in touch. Heart-warming. Really heart-warming."
"Come on Cass," Heather starts, "Give her a chance, you know what she meant."
"If there's one thing I won't miss it's you, Heather," I get up and storm away, but just as I'm in the doorway Mum calls out, "Cassandra, wait,"
"What?" I ask grouchily, turning round to face her. She walks up to me and hugs me tightly.
"Look after yourself Cassandra," Mum whispers, her voice teary. "I love you a lot, I hope you know that. I'll say goodbye properly at the airport. There are boxes in your room for packing."
"Thanks," I smile gratefully as she pulls away. I have lots of retorts in my head regarding the whole 'boxes in my room for packing' thing, but I withhold them. I know she's only trying to help.
"You have half an hour to start packing," Dad says, "Then we're off to Trevor's. I can help if you like."
"No," I say, shaking my head. "I'm OK."
"OK," Dad says as I turn and traipse upstairs, packing for my new life in America.