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An Endless Summer(108)

By:C. J. Duggan


Sean replaced him at the door, listening, waiting for the voices to fade down the stairs. Knowing Chris, it wouldn’t take him long to figure something out. And he did.

“Coast is clear, come on.” Sean tried to wrap an arm around me but I slapped him away.

“I don’t need your help,” I glowered, stumbling rather inelegantly to my feet.

Bloody spinning room.

“Yeah, I can see that,” Sean mused.

I pushed past him, zigzagging down the hall like a ball in a pinball machine, leaving a trail of wet footprints on the carpet. I could hear Sean laughing as he followed from behind. God, what an arse.

I spun around so fast Sean nearly collided with me. “You think this is funny? It’s just a giant joke to you!”

Sean sighed. “No, I don’t.”

“Do you even know why I’m upset?” I demanded.

Sean nodded. “Chris came and saw me.”

“You should be relieved. At least now you’ll get paid.” I spun around to stomp into my room.

“Do you think I even care about that?”

“I care!” At least something good could come from the sale: I wouldn’t be indebted to Sean anymore.

He sighed and looked up to the ceiling as if praying for God to give him strength.

“You don’t get it, do you? You just don’t get it.” Sean’s eyes darkened.

I searched through my drawers for a dry top, ignoring him when he stalked over to me, grabbing me by the arm and forcing me to look into his searing eyes.

“Yeah, it’s sad and shitty and all those things. But home is where this is.” He pointed to my heart. “That’s what makes it a home. Wherever you go, whatever you do, it will be home because you’re there. You take the memories with you.”

“It’s not that simple,” I whispered under my breath.

Sean ran his hand through his hair. “I blame your parents.”

“Ha! Join the club.” I crossed my arms in defiance.

“Not for that.” Sean’s eyes burned into me.

“For what, then?”

“For spoiling you to within an inch of your life, for turning you into being so damn materialistic you can’t focus on the things that really matter.”

It was as if Sean had plunged a knife and twisted it into my heart. Anger boiled inside me, or was that vomit? Wait … no, it was anger. And fury threatened to blur my vision.

“You’re calling me materialistic? This coming from the man that owns a whopping great lake house, who has a boat and a car. So you could just give it all up tomorrow and that would be all right, would it?”

“Yes,” he said coolly.

I scoffed. “I don’t believe you.”

He was silent for a moment, watching me. “Then you don’t know me at all.”

“Well, you obviously don’t know me, either.”

“I know the Amy Henderson who rolled up her sleeves and scrubbed urinals, the Amy Henderson who violently attacked thieving staff members, the Amy Henderson who looks fear in the face and plunges into it anyway. The Amy Henderson who was in my bed last night.” He shook his head. “But this Amy Henderson in front of me, the one who gets shit-faced in the middle of the day when things don’t go her way and throws the mother of all pity parties for herself, you’re right. I don’t know her.”

Silence fell between us. A long, tense silence.

“Well, I’m sorry I’m such a huge disappointment to you,” I said. “But I won’t be sorry for how I feel. I can’t just accept it.”

Sean reached out and brushed my cheek. “You’re going to have to.”

I pulled away from his touch; I’d had enough of being lectured. I couldn’t believe the one person I’d thought above anyone else I could rely on was now siding with my parents.

“You should go,” I said.

I could feel Sean’s gaze on me. I silently begged that he wouldn’t argue, he’d just move, and was relieved when he slowly walked to the door.

He paused at the threshold. “I’m not asking you not to care, but you just need to realise what’s important, what you really want in life.”

“And what is it that you want out of life?” I scoffed.

Sean smiled. “I’ll let you know.”



***



To Mum and Dad’s credit, they kept me in the loop to the best of their abilities, but it was Chris who gave me all the juicy details.

I sat with Chris and Adam on the outside picnic table, sharing a packet of salt and vinegar chips and downing a double-shot raspberry lemonade. I stole Adam’s sunglasses from the top of his head to mute the blinding sunrays that did absolutely nothing for my thumping headache.