Chapter 6

Andy

"How was school?" Dad asks me as soon as I walk through the door, No, hi Andrew, it's great to see you, Andrew, nope, he goes straight into counsellor mode, asking questions to try and invoke some sort of emotional reaction from me.

"Fine." I huff, taking the stairs two at a time, just to get away from him. I throw my bag down onto my chaotic mess on the floor and pace around my room, trying to kill time. There's no avoiding it, though, I may as well just go get it over with so I can salvage some of my afternoon.

I hate these counselling sessions, they're a complete waste of my time and energy. I don't want to talk about what I'm feeling, I don't want my every word to be psychoanalysed, I just want my life to go back to how it was before, although that's not a possibility.

When I enter the dining room, I find that he's set up the table with bags of potato chips and a glass of Coke, as if I'm a child who needs incentives to talk. He can shove his bribes fair up his asshole.

I take the seat across from him, and he pulls out his writing pad and pen. He's probably expecting that today we'll have some sort of breakthrough and doesn't want to miss a moment, so he can tell everyone that he fixed his fucked up son.

"So school was just fine?" He asks me, not letting the subject go, I swear he loves nothing better than to beat a dead horse, but today I'm not in the mood for it.

"Yep," I answer him, keeping my focus on the wooden table in front of me so he can't read my facial expression and come to his own conclusions.

"Andrew, come on, we're never going to get anywhere unless you open up to me." He pushes, irritating me even further.

"Here's a thought, why don't you tell me what you want me to say, seeing as though my response isn't good enough," I yell at him but he doesn't even flinch, he just takes it in his stride and keeps his cool, which just pisses me off more.

"How are your classes? Have you made any friends?" He tries a more direct approach to move past my 'difficult mood' as he often calls it. I probably wouldn't be in a difficult mood if I didn't have a father, so hell bent on knowing my every fucking thought.

"My classes are good, I'm taking all the same ones as last year, and I don't need friends." I decided not to tell him about Claire inviting me to sit with her group of friends; he'd read way too much into it, and I don't want to have that conversation.

"Well, that's great about your classes; it should make things slightly easier, considering you already know the course load." He says, scribbling something down on his writing pad.

"Oh yeah, it's a dream come true, to be 19 and being forced to re-do the 12th grade while all my other friends will be starting university or a trade this year," I say through gritted teeth. He's a fucking joke.

"Look, Andrew, I know this isn't the most ideal situation, but your Mum and I didn't want one bad year to affect the rest of your life." He says, bringing Mum into it to pull at my heartstrings, he knows I'd do anything for her.

"So this was your way of helping me? Like how you helped Pia, right?" I sneer at him in disgust. I can feel my blood starting to boil. I stand up and look him right in the eye, wanting him to feel my words cut him open. "I hate you for allowing Pia to fall through the cracks."

I slam my chair so hard against the table that it causes the glass of Coke to topple over and smash onto the floor, creating the perfect distraction so I can escape. I can't stay here, I can't be around him without wanting to hurt him. I run from the house, straight to my car.

The tyres screech as I pull out of the driveway and onto the street. There's a building rage inside of me, desperately seeking an outlet, something that can take my mind off of Pia. An image of Claire flashes in my thoughts, and before I realise what I'm doing, I'm pulling my car up outside her house and getting out.

I keep willing myself to walk away, get back in the car and go home, but it's like my feet are in control, leading me up to her front door. As I get closer, I catch sight of her inside, sitting on the lounge, her head down, writing in her school binder. Of course, Claire would be the type to do her homework as soon as she gets home; she wouldn't procrastinate like I do, leaving it until just before I go to bed. She does everything that is expected of her and never steps out of line; no wonder my parents adore her so much.

If anyone needs to let loose, it's Claire Lions. The girl is way too uptight for a 17-year-old. I'm willing to bet that in her entire 12 years of school, she's never had a detention. In fact, I'd even go as far as to guess that no teacher has ever even raised their voice at the precious good girl. My school record would make her blush. I'd spent more time in the principal's office at Claremont than I'd had hot dinners.

I knock on the door, and when Claire answers it, I register the look of surprise on her face, which is quickly replaced by a scowl. The girl needs to smile more; she has such a beautiful smile, so radiant and bright, but she hides it behind hostility.

"What are you doing here? You said you had counselling this afternoon." She says in an accusing tone.

"I decided to ditch it and go for a drive instead," I tell her. A deviant smile spreads across my face when she closes the door behind her and steps outside. I can smell her sweet scent when it's picked up by the warm breeze, that delicious cupcake scent. "Do you want to come with me?"

"I can't, I have homework." She says, looking over her shoulder to peer through the window, probably checking that neither Sam nor Veronica catches her away from her studies. She turns back to face me, moving in closer to close the gap between us. "Where are you driving to anyway?"

"Around, wherever I feel like it." I can see it written on her face, she's tempted to join me, she just needs that little push to get her to cross to the dark side. "If you want to stay here and be boring and predictable, then so be it. I just thought we could have some fun."

I turn and start to walk away, back down the driveway way and it doesn't take too long for me to hear her trailing behind me. I knew I'd tempt her by calling her out; she's so easy to mess with.

"I'm not boring or predictable." She says in a low, hushed voice, still frightened she'll get caught.

"Then prove me wrong, Claire." I bait her, knowing she won't be able to resist. We may not have been friends for many years now, but I still know how her mind ticks; she hates being called out.

"Wait, I have to go back inside, get my phone and tell my parents where I'm going." She says, reaching out to grab my arm. The moment her fingers touch my skin, I feel a warm glow go through my entire body, stopping me in my tracks. She lets go, and the feeling fades. I don't know what that was, but it felt really good, making me crave more.

I knew if she went back into the house, there was a high risk that she'd be stopped by her parents, who then would call my dad and tell him I'd been there. I had to prevent that from happening. I needed her to come with me. I didn't understand why, but there was an urgency to be around her.

"Let's live dangerously for once, be spontaneous, I guarantee it will be fun." I try to tempt her, and when she moves away from the house, towards my car, I know I've won her over. It was almost too easy, not that I'm complaining.