Riot Girl (5 page)

“Oh my, Daniel!” Daniel’s mother, Rebecca, cried out, her hands flying to her mouth with dramatic flair. Her perfectly styled blonde hair was cemented with hairspray and her manicured hands screamed: “stay at home wife”.

Daniel’s father, James, helped her into a seat before she fell down; he was a handsome older clone of his son with grey hair starting to creep across his brown mop of hair. James hadn’t had a lot to say so far, he was apparently the strong and silent type, taking it all in stride. But there was a lot going on in his head, I could see it in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Ma,” Daniel looked genuinely upset and I felt a pang of guilt to be the cause of their distress. “Indi and I, we didn’t plan this. But it’s happened and we would like to keep our baby, it feels like the right thing to do.”

Our baby
, I thought. The lie rolled so easily off his tongue; I wanted to confess- to tell them all that this was really Joel’s baby and that Daniel was just trying to help me. I couldn’t understand how this had escalated so quickly.

“Oh my,” Rebecca repeated breathily. “What will people say?”

Miss Smith nodded sympathetically, her duty to her two students temporarily forgotten as she revelled in the drama unfolding around her.

“She’s not keeping it, not while she lives under my roof,” my father growled, speaking for the first time since he’d arrived. He reeked of stale alcohol and cigarettes.

If we hadn’t been in a room full of people he might have tried to hit me; as it was, he was barely keeping his anger under wraps. I shifted uncomfortably, suddenly aware of both the physical and emotional differences between my father and Daniel’s.

“People will think what they want to think,” James finally spoke up, drawing the surprised attention of everyone in the room. He had a quiet, determined tone. “And Indiana and our grandchild will
not
live under your roof, Mr Jones.”

Daniel’s face transformed, confusion causing his brow to wrinkle. “Dad?”

“The apartment over my office has been gathering dust, we can set the three of you up in there,” James continued. “But, there is one condition.”

Rebecca and my father looked at James in something like horror-or perhaps utter shock.

“What’s that Dad?” Daniel looked paler than his mother by now; clearly he hadn’t been expecting this reaction any more than his mother or I were.

“You must
both
,” he said pointedly, looking from Daniel to myself, “finish school, and- if God willing you get the grades- you will both go to college. You will need your education if you want to give this child the life it deserves; that you deserve.”

I stared at James in disbelief, my mouth hanging open in surprise. I glanced briefly at my own father, who was glaring at me with pure hatred. I knew that James had his own law firm, a small local business with a two-storey building in the middle of town. I presumed that the apartment must be above his offices.

Daniel looked at me and gave a small nod before turning to his parents. He stepped forward tentatively before embracing James; I thought that I heard him give a small sob but he was standing with his back to me so I couldn’t be sure.

“I expect you to provide for your family Daniel,” his father stepped back and looked Daniel right in the eye. “Your mother and I will help you but you’ll need to learn to manage school with your job alongside the baby. It’s going to be hard work, son, especially once you’re both in college. But if you want this, truly want it, then we will help all that we can.”

Rebecca sobbed into a tissue that Miss Smith had passed to her; she was no doubt worried about what her friends from the tennis club would say. My father stormed out of the room, slamming the office door behind him.

I felt overwhelmed and abandoned by the only family I had left, and I burst into tears. I was embarrassed about crying in front of people I barely knew, but I couldn’t stop it. Tears streamed down my face as Daniel embraced me; it felt awkward and I found myself hoping that his parents and Miss Smith didn’t pick up on it. After all, we were supposedly in a relationship and expecting a baby together, a hug shouldn’t be awkward between two people who were meant to know each other intimately.

Mostly I was overcome with emotion at the understanding and incredible generosity of Daniel’s father, but I also had an undeniable feeling of drowning in this web of lies. I felt trapped by it all and out of control of, not only my own life, but that of my baby’s.

But if I confessed now, what would happen? Where would I go? My dad had made it clear that I couldn’t go back to live at the trailer if I wanted to keep my baby.

And, in spite of the overwhelming fear, I
did
want to keep my baby.

Daniel and his father positioned themselves outside my bedroom door at the trailer; they reminded me of the bouncers I’d seen outside bars in town. My father was sat on our tatty, threadbare couch with a can of beer in his hand and a glare in his eyes aimed firmly at the other two men.

I sighed and clicked my bedroom door shut behind me. I looked around, taking it all in: the window through which Joel had climbed countless times since we were little kids; the bed where we had first made love; the cupboard I’d hidden in as a child when my father was in a rage.

I sat at the end of my bed, still unmade from the last time I’d slept in it a few days earlier. I took a long deep breath, running my bed sheet through my hand and thinking of that first time with Joel, the look in his eyes.

This messy little room contained my life. Not just the material possessions, but so many of my memories. I stood up and started to load my things into bags.

From under my bed I pulled out a worn photo album. It contained the only pictures I had of my mother, hidden away from my father in case he threw them out, and photographs of Billy, Joel, Waz and I as we grew up. They were still precious to me, even if it was too painful to look at them now.

When I’d finished packing everything up I took one final look around the room, my eyes lingering on the window- hoping against the odds that he might appear- and I blinked back the tears I refused to shed over him.

“I’m ready,” I called out to Daniel and James.

Daniel’s father, ever the old-fashioned gentleman, had been insistent that I was not to lift anything because in my ‘condition’ I needed to be careful. James and Daniel came into the room and took the bags; when the room was clear I motioned for them to wait for me outside so I could speak to my Dad alone.

“It’s okay,” I nodded to Daniel, who looked less than impressed about leaving me alone with my father.

“Yeah, it’s okay-run along you little shit,” Dad spat out venomously as I closed my eyes and shook my head. “Leave me alone with my daughter.”

“Dad, don’t be such an asshole!” I scolded. “Daniel, please go, I’ll be out in a minute.”

He turned to leave and joined his father right outside the front door, leaving me alone but not
too
alone. I sighed; it was hard to imagine not living here anymore. Yes, it wasn’t the perfect home and I didn’t have the greatest dad, but these things were mine and they were all I’d known. I was eighteen-years-old now but I had never imagined leaving home in these circumstances. I was afraid of the unknown path waiting for me outside the front porch of this trailer.

“Don’t drink yourself to death, okay?” I spoke softly, sad to be leaving even if he was a drunk. “I’m only in town, if you need me.”

“I don’t need
you
or anyone,” he replied, refusing point blank to look at me.

I nodded and turned to leave.

“Indi,” Dad called, and I stopped hopefully. “That Warren boy’s mother left an envelope for you.”

“She did? When?” My heart raced with the possibility waiting inside that envelope. “Where is it?”

He pointed to the kitchen counter; I moved some things and found it, a white beer-stained envelope.

“Left it a day or so ago–she said the other kids’ mom left it for you before she moved,” he grunted.

“Billy and Joel’s mom? Moved where?” I quizzed him urgently as I ran my fingers across the white stained paper. My heart was fluttering, what was inside it?

“How would I know?” he snapped. “Somethin’ about those boys of her getting her a house, outta this godforsaken town.”

“They moved her away?” I didn’t understand, but it seemed that they’d been in contact with everyone back home except for me.

Dad turned his attention back to the horse racing on TV, no longer listening to me and drawing our exchange to a close.

I tucked the envelope carefully into my pocket. I wanted to keep it out of sight until I got some time alone to find out what was inside.

Part Two

Indi, Aged Twenty-Four

Dreaming of coming home to you; talking like we used to do…”

The melody coming from the radio caused me to stop wiping the table, it was an old song and I wasn’t expecting to hear it. My breath caught and my heart hammered against my chest. My legs almost buckled beneath me as the voices on the radio penetrated my defences.

I absolutely hated it when they caught me off guard like that. The lyrics opened up a door I had tried hard to keep locked for so many years. I barricaded my heart and head with every emotional block I could muster but it was times like this, when I was least expecting it, that they managed to catch me unaware and I was seventeen years old once more.

Talking like we used to do my ass,
I thought angrily and took it out on the table as I continued to wipe away breadcrumbs and ketchup marks. My little boy was such a messy eater, too much like his father sometimes. I stopped myself before the tears started to roll down my cheeks and instead I thumped the radio power button. The room became quiet, which was worse because then I was left to go over the memories once more; I pushed my cherry-red hair out of my eyes.

Sitting down at the table I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and allowed the images to roll freely through my mind for the first time in a long time. I would have time to pull myself together before anyone else came home. At twenty-four years of age, I still fell to pieces at the thought of my teenage years. I’d tried desperately to mend my broken heart, but all I’d managed to do was crazy glue it back together.

If I’d known when I was seventeen-years-old that letting Joel Travis into my room, and my heart, would be the end of me, I would have thought twice. Still, I couldn’t help but think back to that first night and recall the look in his eyes as he took me in his arms…

The front door slammed shut and I came out of my daydream instantly. Looking at the clock on the kitchen wall I was surprised to see that I had been sitting there for more than an hour. The hurt and upset I’d felt after hearing the song was gone and I was horrified to find I was aroused instead. I hardly ever thought about my ‘first time’ and I’d forgotten how painful I had found it in the beginning. It was the thought of running my hands over Joel’s young, lean body that had gotten me hot under the collar; damn him for still being able to get under my skin.

“You okay? You look a little flushed.” Daniel said as he came over to kiss me on the head by way of hello. It was lunchtime and I hadn’t gotten his sandwich ready which seemed to have put him off kilter. I rarely broke out of habit, and never without notice. He put the back of his hand gently to my forehead. “You don’t have a temperature.”

“I’m okay, little bit of a headache that’s all. I’ll get your sandwich,” I replied, shaking off his hand and heading over to the refrigerator to grab the sandwich meat.

I loved Daniel. Kind of. He’d been the one to pick me up and put me back together when Joel had gone and his persistence had paid off in the end. I’d gotten used to him being around and I became fond of him.

There was never the kind of heat there that I’d had with Joel though. I guessed it was normal to feel that way after your first love. The butterflies and passion fade and then you’re left with what I had with Daniel: stability and affection.

We had our young son, Jacob, and we lived in a nice little house in a good neighbourhood. It was a far cry from the pokey little trailer I’d grown up in. Love or not, I wouldn’t let my son grow up as I had with an absent mother and alcoholic father. I was with Daniel for the long haul. I guess that’s why he couldn’t understand why I kept rejecting his marriage proposals; heck even I didn’t understand it. It’s not like some knight in shining armour was going to come and carry Jacob and I away to live in a fairy-tale land.

One of these days I was going to have to give in and say yes. God knows I should marry him and get rid of my stupid name; besides, he was a good man and a good father. He had loved me even though he knew deep down I didn’t love him in the same way. What was I waiting for?

I took Daniel’s sandwich over to the dining table and placed it in front of him with a forced smile. He
was
a good man, so why did the thought of marrying him make me feel sick to my stomach? Apart from Joel he was the only man I’d been with. He had always been good to me and if patience was a virtue then Daniel really was a saint.

In the early days I was a crazy person; black was my signature colour and it definitely matched my mood. I had dyed jet-black hair, thick black eyeliner and mascara; the only shade in my wardrobe besides black was grey. No wonder when Joel and the others left, no one would come near me.

Except for Daniel. Slowly, patiently, he broke down my walls and drew me in to his life, and eventually his social circle. I hated them; all smart ass preppies–everything the guys and I had stood against: perfect hair, smiles, homes and families, not to mention the expanse of money that would no doubt get them into the best schools.

I smiled to myself smugly as I thought how disgusted Joel, Billy and Waz would be at my set up today. I lived in house surrounded by a white picket fence and I was a member of the PTA for Jacob’s school... Hell, I was even our old high schools’ guidance counsellor!

This was definitely the epitome of everything the four of us said we
didn’t
want as adults. Of course I could see now that we were jealous, angry kids brought up on the wrong side of town; dragged up, actually.  Our parents had no interest in us and the rest of the town had written us off as trailer trash.

I felt bad for the kids who lived in that trailer park now. My guilt each time I saw one of them traipsing through the halls at school must have radiated off me. I got out; how many of them would be able to say the same by the time they got to my age?

My thoughts were interrupted when I caught sight of Daniel staring at me expectantly.

“Earth to Indiana,” he said seriously. “Where were you?”

“Oh just thinking about work, a kid is giving me some trouble.” I felt bad for lying but I was a master of it; Daniel never seemed to know when I was doing it.

“Speaking of which, I better head back. Lucky you not having to go five days a week,” he smiled and kissed me on the cheek as he made his was out of the house and back to his car.

I waved him goodbye from the front porch like the dutiful little wife I pretended to be, all the while the riot girl inside screamed and raged at my conformity. I gave her a mental pat on the head and she threw herself on the floor of my porch in a tantrum.

“Tell me about it,” I said to myself, and shut the front door on her.