A fresh start is exactly what London McLaren needs in order to forget the demons of her past. A new last name, a new town and a new school.
She's about to start her final year of high school, ready to obey her parent's orders to keep her head down a...
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Thursday, March 26th, 2020
I haven't spoken to my parents all week. I've barely even seen them. It's not like I'm avoiding them but I'm not making an effort to speak to them either.
Besides, I pretty much said everything I needed to say so I thought it was only fair that they spoke to me first.
Only they hadn't. They hadn't uttered a single word to me about the fight since it happened.
It was clear now more than ever that they were just in denial. Everything that I had said was true and it hurt even more that they weren't even trying to deny it.
"So, anyway, she looks right at me, right? And can you guess what she dared to say? Oops, didn't see you there."
"No," Kennedy gasps.
Sydney was midway through a very intense conversation about the girl who had taken her seat on the bus this morning. She was elbowed out of the way.
Despite it being an entertaining story, I'm struggling to pay attention. My mind is elsewhere and I can tell Harry's picked up on it too.
He suddenly gets up and gestures at me to join him.
"I'm gonna go get some more food," Harry tells the group. "Coming, Lonnie?"
I don't argue with him. Instead, I stand up and trudge over to the canteen line with him.
He crosses his arm over his chest, watching me warily. "Okay. What's up?"
"Huh? Oh, nothing. Nothing," I splutter, focusing on the canteen line as it gets shorter.
"Lon."
"Harry," I mock, trying to make light of this situation.
I was trying so hard to stop my lip from quivering. How pathetic.
I didn't want anyone to realise just how much my parent's silence has actually affected me. I never thought that they wouldn't at least try to defend themselves.
"Look, you don't have to talk to me but at least talk to someone, alright?"
"What are you talking about?" I say, feigning innocence.
He shakes his head. "Something is going on with you. I don't know what it is, but I know it's something."
Harry Coleman. Too observant for his own good.
"Look, I don't tell a lot of people this because it's not exactly something that people tend to be proud of. But late last year, I saw the school counsellor," he admits, scratching the back of his neck.
"And honestly," he continues, "It helped. A lot. Sometimes, you just need to get some shit off your chest."
I'd spoken to a therapist before. It had only been brief and it was too early on, only days after Nix had died. I don't think I had been ready at all then to admit what had happened out loud.
