Out of Chances (18 page)

He was turning into his father. Gemma was right.

If there was one person he didn't want to be like, it was his father. The faces of his band mates were serious. This round of drama was all on him. Gemma had every right to hate him because he'd told her secret when he'd had no right. He'd never expected his family to tell Lisa and have her use it against him.

His voice was very soft when he spoke. ‘Is this where you throw me out of the band?'

‘Nah. This is where we kick your ass and put you under supervision,' Ed said

Dan rolled his eyes. ‘I don't need supervision.'

‘Your father cut you off, you can't pay me rent and you sit here drinking, eating pizza and playing video games. As your landlord I am kicking you out,' Mike said with a solemn voice.

‘As your friend you are moving into Kirsten's old room. Mum and Dad are happy to help you out.' Ed smiled as though that had solved all of the problems Dan had. ‘It's rent free, although if you could chip in for food that would be great. Also if you finish the milk, replace it or …' He made a slicing gesture across his neck.

‘He's not joking about the milk,' Gemma whispered.

‘Can I think about it?' The idea of living at the Vincent's was more than he could handle. Ed had the family that everyone wanted. They cared and supported, but he didn't want to be
that
interloper, and he had been enjoying his own space … so he could drink and play games and write songs.

‘No,' they all said.

Shit.
They really had discussed him while he wasn't looking. What else had they said?

‘Oh.' He didn't know what else to say.

‘We are doing this for you, but if you aren't going to cooperate, I don't, we don't have another plan. Instead of shutting yourself away, what do you need—and don't say space or time.' While Ed was acting as a friend, Dan also knew he was thinking of the band.

This was his last chance to get it together.

‘I don't know.' He'd lost almost everything. The band was all he had left. Drinking and trying to forget hadn't helped. Instead of dealing with the problem, or dealing with Lisa, he'd let it fester. He had to stop turning away from the hard choices and man up and make them.

Grow a set.
He looked down at the floor. He had to take the help that was being offered or he would be kicked out. Lisa and his father would win. He had to prove them wrong. He was going to be a success.

He lifted his gaze and looked at Ed.

‘I suppose I should ask if anyone is going to help me move.' Asking for help had always been seen as a weakness in his family. He had to get over that.

Mike smiled. ‘We all will, but not today as we have to do damage control.'

Dan shook his head. ‘Don't call it that. If that's the best she could do to hurt me and us …' He shrugged. ‘I'm not worried.' He glanced at Gemma. ‘Are you?'

‘Nervous.'

‘Since we're all here let's call our agent back, make a statement, etcetera.' Ed was already getting his phone out.

Indigo watched as Emma and her friends packed up their bags. She was glad they were going. Once they had gone she'd be able to revel in her hurt instead of pretending that she didn't care. All she had to do was drive them to the train station then her flat was hers again.

‘Give me a minute with my sister.' Emma smiled at her three friends.

‘Here.' Indigo tossed the keys to the blonde who'd sucked Dan. ‘You can load the car.'

Kate fumbled the catch and dropped the keys on the floor. Her friends tittered as she had to carefully bend down in a belt that was trying to be a skirt. It wasn't elegant.

The three of them gathered up their bags and tottered out in their wedges. They were dressed up as though catching the train to Kal was an event. Indigo shook her head. Her sister was no different.

‘Thank you for letting us stay. It was the best birthday present.' Emma gave Indigo a hug.

Indigo returned the embrace even though she wasn't feeling the love.

‘How do you do it?' Emma whispered.

‘What?' Indigo pulled back to look at her sister. She seemed so frail and young now, not surrounded by her gaggle of girlfriends

‘You don't care what people think. You have no trouble getting a guy when you want one … you left home and have this amazing life doing whatever you want.'

Indigo bit back the laugh. Her life wasn't amazing. She did care what people think, but it was true that when she wanted a man she could get one. She'd never really thought about it that way.

‘I do care what people say.'

‘Really? Kate cried after you said she was easy and gave lame head jobs.'

‘I didn't mean to make her cry.' Indigo had been hurting so she'd lashed out. She was still hurting, but she should apologise.

‘You were right, but we were egging her on.' Emma sighed. ‘I didn't mean to call you flat chested.'

‘Yeah you did, you've been calling me that for years.' Indigo couldn't erase eight years of teasing that easily. It was all she'd heard through high school from the boys and girls.

‘Only because it was the only thing I could tease you about … you were always better at school than me. You had more boyfriends than me.'

Indigo gave her sister a tiny frown. All that teasing was because it was the only thing Emma could pick on? What about the other kids? Had they thought the same thing? She'd never been the smartest kid, but she had been sporty. She had been resilient. She'd learned never to let people see the damage they were doing, as then they'd dig deeper—her dad had taught her that by the way he treated their mother. ‘It's not a competition.'

‘It was to Dad, he was always saying I should be more like you.'

‘He never said anything nice to me. I was invisible.' All his attention had been on their brother. But with the two of them gone it was just Emma at home.

‘What if I ditch Jay and then can't get another one?'

Indigo lifted her eyebrows. ‘That's what you're worried about? Why do you need a boyfriend?'

‘I'm not like you. You're happy alone.' Emma shrugged. ‘You seem to be happy no matter what.'

‘That's not true, Emma. I get sad like anyone else.'

‘You don't show it.'

Had she really built up that image of casual perfection? It was amusing that people looked at her and thought she had it all when she felt like she had nothing. No boobs and no Dan.

The boobs were an easy fix. Those who had teased her over the years would have nothing to pick on. She looked at her sister. She wasn't doing it for herself; she was doing it for them to stop the name-calling. Maybe they'd just find something else to pick on and then she'd have to change that too, just like her mother. Reinventing herself to please everyone else was no way to live.

Dan hadn't teased her about the way she'd looked.

He'd also moved on and that was still raw. She'd liked him more than she wanted to admit. If it hadn't have been one of Emma's friends she'd have never known. It would've been easier not to know … would he have told her the next time they got together?

There wasn't going to be a next time now so it didn't matter.

Indigo smiled at her sister. ‘Thank you.'

‘For what?'

‘For making me see how good I do have it.' She didn't want to change anything about herself or her life.

‘What should I do?'

‘For a start, eat a real meal. If Jay doesn't like it he isn't worth it.'

That was something that she had to remember too. Any man who was disappointed in her breast size wasn't worth dating.

‘Did you mean it, that I could come here if I was going to uni … what about TAFE?'

‘If you're studying you can stay with me.' She'd had to get a job straightaway and live in a share house with four other people. It had been a tough first few months and there'd been moments when she'd wanted to go home. But she'd known that there was nothing for her there either.

Emma nodded. ‘I'll think about it. Mum will be on her own.'

‘Mum could've left him years ago. She loves him and she'll keep on forgiving him.'

‘Is that why you don't keep boyfriends?'

‘Maybe … maybe I haven't found the right man to share my life with. I don't want to settle. I want awesome.' She meant that. One day she'd find someone she wanted to keep seeing and wake up in an accidental relationship. Kind of like what had been happening with Dan.

She couldn't let him back into her life to hurt her again, no matter how much she liked him. No matter how much she missed him. The hurt was a warning not to go back.

‘Come on, otherwise you'll be late … you don't want to miss the train home and I certainly won't be driving you all the way home.' She gave her sister another hug. ‘Look after yourself, okay?'

Emma nodded. ‘You too.'

Getting an operation that was going to put her out of action for six weeks wasn't looking after herself and she had no one to look after her if things went badly. The doubts she'd had returned. This time she was going to listen to her gut.

She was going to cancel the second appointment with the doctor.

It felt like failure to be packing. Dan had scabbed up some boxes from Gemma; she hadn't got rid of them after moving. As he went, he was making a pile of clothes he needed to wash and things he could sell. There wasn't much as he'd got rid of most of it already and he didn't want to sell something he was going to end up regret selling.

He was regretting letting Lisa keep the big screen TV and sound system.

For what must be the hundredth time he checked his phone. Still nothing from Indigo.

He shouldn't be expecting her to call, her last few messages had been single words, as though she was done with him. She probably was. He was done with himself. If he didn't want to be with himself how could he expect someone else to want him?

And yet he didn't want to leave it how it was. She'd be seeing the gossip and he wanted to say something.

He wanted her back.

It was up to him to call her, but he had no idea what to say. He put his phone down and stared at the mess. After a moment he got up and went to the fridge. There was only milk in there as Ed had helpfully removed all alcohol.

Dan slammed the door and it bounced open and hit him in the leg. He slammed it again but held it to make sure that it stayed closed.

He had to stop thinking about her. She'd got what she wanted. This was his fault for calling her up to bail him out. He'd crossed the line of fun time to friends. He'd made a mistake. He laughed. He wished it was only one.

He knew he needed to call his parents back, but he wasn't sure if he was up to talking to his father. That conversation would follow the usual pattern and end up with what a fuck-up he was.

If there was one thing he wanted to avoid, it was agreeing with his father, so he rang his mother. ‘Hey, Mum.'

‘Daniel. We have been so worried. Your father is furious.'

Dan flicked a sock into the wash pile with his toe. ‘I'm fine. Someone took a few pics of me out with Ripley and misread, that's all.'

That coupled with Lisa's confession … the timing was suspicious.

His father said something in the background Dan couldn't quite make out.

‘Now listen here, Daniel,' his father growled; no doubt his face was almost purple. ‘This is getting ridiculous.'

Dan took a breath. His father had never liked Ripley, even when he had been Jacob. He'd said Ripley was a bad influence because they were always getting into trouble. It had been as much Ripley as it had been Dan. Ripley's parents were blue collar, that was what his father really didn't like. Dan had made friends with the wrong kids.

‘Lisa thinks I'm dating him … if I was it would be an improvement on her.' He hung up. Let his father chew on that.

For all of his father's pushy ways he wasn't a fool, and he didn't like to be proven wrong. Lisa had made him look bad. He'd thought he had her under control. There was no way Lisa's revelation had been approved. The non-existent baby they probably cooked up together.

It would be too much to expect an apology from his father, or even grudging acceptance of his career choice. He'd be quite happy to settle for being ignored. He'd give it a few weeks to settle down before he went to see his mother, and he'd go on a week day while his father was at work.

His phone rang and he shunted the call straight through to voice mail.

It would be his father making sure he got the last word.

The pile of dirty clothes on the floor was more than enough for a load so he gathered up an armful and put it in the machine. The laundry in the flat was a glorified cupboard with a washer and tumble dryer.

He packed another box then sat and stared at his phone.

He couldn't leave the Indigo situation hanging the way he'd done with Lisa. That was the one thing he had learned. Make a mess, and clean it up straight away. Then at least it was done and you could see what stain was left.

If any.

He pulled her number up. Text or call?

He scrubbed a hand over his hair. Text. A call would be assuming there was more going on. They hadn't called. Their relationship had been texts and sex.

Hey I missed you on Tuesday.

Nope. He deleted it.

Guess you've heard the gossip.
And? What kind of a text was that? Delete.

I'm moving, did you want to catch up?
Delete.

He couldn't find the words. He spent his life making up lyrics and now he couldn't string together a simple text. If he had a beer he'd be able to get his thoughts straight.

That was the damn problem. He got up and made a coffee instead.

With the cup steaming in front of him he tried again.