Playing With My Heartstrings (6 page)

Those emotions had to die, whether I liked it or not.

I got up from the table, my legs lazy and half-asleep from the comforting rest, and thanked Tara for all of her help, speaking straight from the bottom of my heart.

"Hey, no big deal," Tara winked, a twinkle playing in her Irish-green eyes. "I know you'd help me out in an instant if the same thing happened to me - that's what friends are for, right?"

"Right," I repeated, giving Tara a mighty bear hug. We walked over the door, Tara hastily opening the various locks (one of the many rules enlisted by her protective parents was to use all of the 13 locks - as Tara once counted a few years ago - whenever she was staying at home alone), and I headed into the sunshine, a cooling breeze brushing my skin.

"See you soon," I waved, turning my head around to see Tara's in return. She leaned against the door, a frown threatening to take away her put-on smile, and shouted with a hint of plead, "Come back soon!"

Poor Tara. None of her so-called friends at the boarding school were bothered to make the effort to visit her at home for the duration of the summer holidays and she only had visits for relations to look forward to. Of course I'd be willing to do whatever I could to see her as often as possible - we may not have exactly realised it, but we needed each more than ever before.

I turned left on the path leading onto the bustling, lively street - hits of choking fuel hitting my nose every time a car speeded past - and I waved last goodbye to Tara, whose slender build was visible at the living room window.

Even in the midst of self-wonder and pity, a hop gradually built in my more upbeat step, plastering an irresistible smile on my face.

Elderly floral dress-clad ladies walking their lively Yorkshire Terriers warmly said 'Hello' to me and several younger students from school motioned their hands in my direction, offering friendly waves.

OK, I had parents worried out of their wits and a boy I hated to love to contend with later, but in the meantime I was enjoying my independence, appreciating each minute of freedom - one of the last meaningful gifts I had left.

Chapter 5

"How dare you scare us like that!"

"What were you thinking?"

"We were about to call the police when you arrived - just about time!"

"And you didn't even reply to any of our messages!"

I yawned, lazily listening to Mum and Dad's rant about my forgetting to tell them where I went this morning. Cassie was sitting beside me on the sofa, a smirk playing on her plump, buxom-doll, glossy lips. Apparently she found this as boring as I did; a wave of guilt turned in my stomach as I dared to imagine how many questions she'd been asked at home earlier. Now I could see her logical point about getting a lock for her birthday soon - maybe she could share hers with me sometimes?

"Are you even listening to me, Sadie Marie Thompson?" Mum snapped, hot steam literally bursting out of her inflamed ears. "After all you've put your father and I through over the last couple of days, you really ought to -"

"Mum!" I cut in, a burst of fury dangerously boiling inside. "I've already told you this - I only went to see one of my old friends across town for an hour. No big deal. Honestly, I would've got home earlier had I not been given dodgy directions by -"

"By who?" Dad demanded.

I nervously bit my lip, which then started to bleed uncontrollably. Oops - like I needed another bloodbath in my hands.

"Your lip," Mum murmured, pointing her ironically blood-red nails towards me, "is bleeding..."

"I know," I muttered, turning my face away.

"Who spoke to you, Sadie?" Dad asked with such an authority that not even the most hormonal teenager in the world (a.k.a me) could ignore.

I threw up my hands in exasperation, allowing myself to lose my well-controlled temper - it was a wonder that I'd managed to restrain it for so long. "Does it matter about every little thing that I do?" I asked, my tone hard and ice-cold.

Dad seemed taken-aback; he clearly hadn't expected such a demanding question in return. "No, n-no," he stammered, his mind scrambling for words to say. "We're just concerned about you, that's all..."

"Look," I sighed, exhaustion threatening to knock me off my worn-out and white kitten slipper-clad feet. "I want to let you and Mum know that I appreciate your looking out for me. In case you didn't realise, I never asked to be an emotional, crazy teenage mess - all I wish is for things to go back to normal."

"And they can, honey," Mum interjected, a warmth that only loving mothers could muster spreading across her face.

I nodded. "But not until I reach some sort of closure with Joel, who I've been meaning to talk to for days."

Mum and Dad, holding each others' tightly grasped hands, shared a quizzical look, one which was as foreign to me as a page in Latin; it was a complex task to translate their thoughts into words, perhaps a logical reason why I'd never particularly excelled in languages at school.

"Darling," Dad started to say, embarrassment displayed on his ruddy-red cheeks, "that's a good idea and..." He trailed off, left speechless and stared at the chocolate stain on the plush, cream carpet. A chocolate bar that I'd sneakily failed to mention was mine.

Mum, made awkward by Dad's reluctance to pull down his hard, strong barrier to express his concern for me, rolled her eyes at the ceiling, which gave me the sudden urge to laugh. That was exactly what I dreamt of doing, but as all eyes - Dad's earthy forest green, Cassie's seawater blue and Mum's hot chocolate brown - were placed upon me, it was the very worst I could do at such a crucially important moment.

But it didn't stop me from bursting into an irresistible fit of giggles in the bathroom later on, though.

"Sadie, all we want for you is to be happy," Mum finally said, bringing Dad's endless humming to an abrupt end, "and that's our top priority. If it makes you feel better by talking to Joel, go ahead - we'll do anything for you."

"Yeah," I sniffed, giving away any little control I had left, "I know you would." Cassie, a figure of calm on the scratched leather sofa, stopped stroking Tinker, who was madly purring away beside her bare, silky-smooth thigh, and got up to embrace me in a hug only caring and non-argumentive sisters could share; one that was utterly priceless.

"And you too stick together," Dad wisely advised once Cassie and I pulled away from one another, panting from our bodies sticking together.

"Of course we will," Cassie promised whole-heartedly, her petite hand tightly clenched in mine.

"Me too," I murmured.

Mum, having been an unpleasant picture of panic and sickening worry for the past few days, magically lost ten years' off her well looked-after, typically ageless face as she breathed a long-needed sigh of relief. Usually, she was yelling at Cassie and I for shouting and arguing for illogical reasons - as if fighting over whose hairbrush to borrow was an issue anymore. We'd stopped wishing for football-obsessed, biscuit-munching, rudely-joking brothers in place of bracelet-borrowing, Charmed-hogging and hormonal sisters - just the way we naturally were.

"Welcome to the sisterhood, little sis," I whispered, creating a wave of laughter from Cassandra, which hawk-eyed Dad picked up on.

"Got a language of your own, huh?" he smirked, but in a happy and pleased way. For possibly the second time in my life, I pitied Dad for having to live with three emotional, erratically-behaving and TV-hogging women. Then I needlessly smiled; hadn't I won the jackpot for not having to put up with brothers or, my very worst nightmare, being a boy? That thought made the teeth-chattering alien in a film Cassie accidently switched on Sky Movies a few summers back seem like the fluffy, playful and adorable kitten that Tinker used to be. Until he started bringing back half-alive mice from his spectacular adventures down the street into the infested garden.

Mum and Dad, having completed their 'Help Our Daughter' mission without any earth-shaking blasts or jaw-punching fights, headed into the boiling kitchen, which was literally baking in the unbearable heat. But instead of getting myself into a heart-hammering panic about being unable to cool down, I took my time to thank my lucky stars or guardian angel - or if I was truly rolling in pots of valuable gold, maybe I had both?

A perfect excuse for gaining the title of Miss Popular at school next term.

I turned my gaze to an ecstatic Cassie, whose smile was infectious to everyone it greeted. Currently enjoying my gleeful mood, I asked whether there was anything she wanted to do with me; just thinking of completing my bursting-to-the-brim pile of homework in the breezeless heat sent an agonizing throb of pain through my head.

"Wanna hang out in my bedroom?" she eagerly suggested, thrilled at being offered such a rare opportunity.

"Sure, why not?"

And my sister, wiser and bolder than I'd previously believed, had me in her clutches for the remainder of the sluggishly slow day, whilst I was powerless to resisting.

***********

"You still like Hello Kitty, don't you?" Cassie asked, longing to hear my answer.

"Uh-huh," I mumbled, nodding my head in agreement.

Cassie smiled and picked up a Hello Kitty plush toy, which looked as though it'd had a major punk makeover; a red and blue tartan bow accentuated its fluffy, anime face and its cute, black vest and tartan skirt paired with jazzy dotty tights screamed 90s grunge. And it even looked like it was wearing a pair of Converse specially for the nightmare. Wherever I went, I could never escape my regret about not purchasing a pair of super-duper-cool Converse, not even with a teenage angst toy.

"Here, you can have it - I'm not really keen on Punky Kitty anymore," she said, handing over the cute plush toy to my awaiting hands.

Wow, ever since Cassie had given me special permission into her lockout bedroom after lunch this afternoon, she had been offering me several of her once-loved possessions - from her bobbly pink feather pencil to an ancient, sturdy music player to a Learn French book in order to teach me how to speak a second language at long last - and I hadn't given her a thing in return.

Baking a batch of gooey, rich, melt-in-your-mouth dark chocolate chip brownies didn't seem to make the cut on this occasion.

"Thanks," I replied, a grin spreading across my face. I added the toy, whose black beady eyes scarily bored into mine, into my ever-increasing pile of gifts and goodies beside my awkwardly crossed legs - a goodie bag, filled with puzzles, impossible-to-win games and perhaps a slice of cake, was the only thing left to be offered.

"So, are you moving out or something? At this rate, half your bedroom will disappear!"

Cassie joined in with my laughter, genuinely finding my half-joke amusing. "No, I'm not preparing to leave home yet - I haven't even learnt how to boil an egg, so I won't be going any time soon," she said. Then she added kindly, "I only want to spend time with you because you have so much to teach me."

"Like what?" I asked, mockingly rolling my eyes.

"You know," Cassie moved her arms in an unfathomable gesture, "life, love and growing up, that sort of thing. You've been through it," she carefully said, beware of her next few words, "and I have plenty to learn from your experiences."

I nodded, completely understanding Cassie's true meaning. She may not have been aware of it, but she was lucky to be the youngest of the two. Of course, she couldn't have been given certain opportunities as she was a few years younger - one of the few benefits of being born first - but as I entered puberty with no knowledge whatsoever of the long, difficult road ahead and having no wise elder sister to look up to, I couldn't help but envy Cassie. A lot.