The Hurricane (3 page)

“So...the whole social hermit thing. Is it just for a term or are you committed for life?”

I WAS SO GRATEFUL to have escaped my former life that living for three years without forming any attachments seemed like a small price to pay for my freedom. The reality was that I had escaped from hell, only to find that fear still incarcerated me in a prison from which there was no escape. I was afraid that the more memorable I became; the more likely it was that I would be found. However irrational that fear was, it made me close myself off from forming any kind of friendship. Until Nikki sat down next to me, it was the only way I knew. I’d been so caught up in surviving and staying free, that I’d forgotten that freedom was a state of mind. I might have escaped physically, but mentally, I was still giving the son of a bitch that power over me. Changing that cycle would need a conscious decision, and making a new friend seemed like a good place to start.

“Why would you think that I’m a social hermit?” I asked, already knowing the answer. I was curious, though, to find out how she saw me.

“Look, I didn’t mean to be rude. I’ve been sitting behind you in class since the start of term. Granted, most of the class seems fairly anti-social, but you don’t talk to anyone, and you seem to avoid catching people’s eye so they don’t initiate a conversation.”

“You’ve been in that class for a month?” I asked, slightly shocked.

“See, that’s what I mean. If you’d looked up from your notes occasionally, you’d have seen me.”

“Sorry,” I apologised. “I’m not much good at making new friends.”

“Neither am I,” she admitted, which surprised me. “Well, I’m not much good at making girlfriends, anyway. Most of my friends are guys. I guess my tendency to say things as they are, without filtering, puts girls off. If you ask me how you look, and I think your dress makes your arse look fat, I’ll tell you. If you ask me what I think of your boyfriend, and he’s a dick, I’ll tell you. I think that makes me a pretty awesome friend, but most girls don’t agree.” She shrugged, humorously, and I couldn’t help but like her.

“Anyway, I’m sick of not having anyone to talk to in class, so I thought I’d say hello. If you really don’t want to talk, though, I can go back to sitting behind you.”

“Like that wouldn’t be weird,” I replied. “I’m glad you sat next to me. It’s nice to make a new friend.”

“Well, don’t get too attached to me. I’m sure I’ll say something to piss you off by the weekend.”

“I don’t have a boyfriend, and I don’t wear dresses, so we should be fine.”

She grinned at me, and her smile was infectious.

“Look, one of the guys on the rugby team is having a party in a couple of weeks. How about you come with me?” she asked.

I almost choked on my coffee at the thought of dancing around in a tiny skirt and chucking back the shots.

“Um, thanks Nikki, but I’m kind of working double shifts waitressing to pay for my course. If it’s on a weekend, chances are I’ll be working.”

“Well, just think on it. You can get ready at my place and borrow some of my clothes and stuff. We’d have a blast.”

I had no intention of going, but I was blown away that this girl, who hardly knew me at all, would be so generous. I wasn’t used to such random acts of kindness.

“I’ll think about it,” I replied, knowing my answer wouldn’t change. “So, how come you’re going? Do you know some of the guys on the rugby team?” I asked, taking a sip of my coffee and burning my tongue.

“I’m friends with a few of them, and there’s a few going who I wouldn’t mind being more than friendly with.”

I looked down and blushed as I thought about O’Connell, who was pretty much the only guy I’d thought about like that in a very long time. When I looked back up, Nikki was staring at me as though she was mentally sizing me up for a boyfriend.

“I’m not interested in meeting anyone, Nikki,” I warned. “I’ve got enough on my plate between my job and classes.”

“Fine,” she sighed dramatically. “You can be my wingman when I’m wearing beer goggles. I have terrible taste in men when I’m drunk. Just pull me away from the ones I’d chew my arm off to get away from in the morning.”

I burst out laughing at the image, and it was the first time that I could remember laughing in a very long time.

I WOKE UP THE NEXT MORNING shaking with fear. It had been a while since I’d dreamt at all, and I’d forgotten just how bad they were. I had no doubt that my conversation with Nikki yesterday had triggered it. New things always did. The nightmare was one of a hundred memories that I’d never be free of.

I had been about fifteen at the time and taking out the rubbish when Noah Rawlinson, a guy from my class, strolled by my house, walking his dog.

“Hey, Em, how are you?”

“Good, thanks. He’s gorgeous, what’s his name?” I asked, as I bent down to rub the coat of the overenthusiastic golden retriever licking at my hand.

“Umm... Barbie,” he mumbled, his face colouring with embarrassment.

“Seriously,” I replied.

“I know, I know,” he laughed, rubbing Barbie’s coat along with me.

“I wanted a dog when I was a kid and Mum let me choose the dog, but my little sister got to pick the name.”

I tried not smile but couldn’t help it.

“That’s pretty tragic. Poor dog.”

“Poor dog! You should try yelling after this crazy animal in a park full of people. I’m sure he’s disobedient just to make me look stupid.”

Noah and I had caught each other’s eye a couple of times in class, and I’d been hoping he’d ask me out. He pushed his floppy blond hair out of his eyes and shifted from foot to foot, obviously building up to something. I bit my lip with nervous anticipation.

“So, were you planning on going to the end of year dance?” he asked. I carried on patting Barbie’s coat. The poor dog would be bald by the time we made a date.

“I hadn’t really thought about it yet,” I lied. Hello! What girl in my year hadn’t thought about the dance?

“Well, would you like to go with me?” Noah asked, sheepishly.

“I’d love to. Thank you,” I replied, after a slight pause.

“That’s great. So, I guess I’ll see you at school?” he suggested with a happy grin. At my nod and smile, he pulled Barbie along to continue their stroll, lifting his hand to wave goodbye as I walked inside. I was still smiling and contemplating what to wear to the dance, when the slap came out of nowhere and hit with so much force that the side of my face smashed into the kitchen cabinet. As I landed on the floor, Frank’s boot hit me straight in the stomach, and I choked back the bile that would only make him madder.

“You little fucking slut. You can’t even take the rubbish out without lifting your skirt for the nearest pussy-sniffing son of a bitch out there. Have you fucked him already? You have, haven’t you?” he screamed, not waiting for an answer as a second boot planted in my gut.

It was a long time before the hits stopped coming. Apart from the one cut to my eye, my clothes would cover the worst of the damage. I didn’t make it off the floor that night, and the next day I made it as far as my bed, but as soon as I was well enough, I gave Noah some lame apology and broke our date. He never asked again, and I stopped looking him in the eye. I stopped looking everyone in the eye. The floor had became my new favourite scenery, and my stepfather’s reign of power had begun.

I HAD WORK SOON, and I needed to get my head in the right place. Using a technique I’d first read about on the Internet, I grabbed the scented candle on my bedside table, lit it, and inhaled deeply, savouring the candle’s sweet vanilla fragrance. Holding my breath, I focused on clearing my mind of everything and exhaled. After a few minutes, the panic had receded. I was always afraid, but I could think past the anxiety now. Looking at my watch, I saw I only had thirty minutes before my shift started. For the second day in a row, I was running to work again.

“GOOD MORNIN’, SUNSHINE,” Danny croaked, in his usual gruff voice. He sounded like he smoked twenty a day, but it was probably more like fifty. The tips of his fingers gave away his habit as much as his voice.

“Morning, Danny. How are you today?” I asked. Danny looked up from the menu. He always read the menu, and I had no idea why, because he ordered the same thing every day.

“What happened?” he barked at me.

“What do you mean?” I asked, frowning in confusion.

“You asked me a question. Aside from asking me what I want for breakfast, you never do that. So I want to know what’s up.”

I could feel myself clamming up. I looked down instinctively and bit my lip.

“Now, don’t you start cowering on me, girl. Something’s happened to you, and I’m nosy enough to want to know what it is. You should know me well enough by now to know that my bark is worse than my bite, so stop looking at the floor and better still, take a seat and talk to me a little bit.”

He nodded at the seat across the booth from his. I looked up and met his gaze. You could tell a lot from a person’s eyes. I wasn’t the world’s best judge of character, but I could usually tell when a smile on the face hid meanness behind the eyes.

“I can’t, Danny. I don’t think Mike would much like me sitting down on the job.”

“Don’t you get breaks?”

“Danny, you’re always my first customer of the day. It’s a little early for a break, don’t you think?”

“Rhona?” Danny barked, as she headed toward the kitchen.

“Can you spare our girl for five minutes?” He nodded toward me, and I was stunned.

“Course I can. We won’t get many in till half past. Just keep an eye out for anyone in your section,” she called back, seeming unperturbed. So far, Danny was my only customer, so pouring myself a cup of coffee, I sat down in the booth opposite him. He waited patiently.

“Don’t you want to order your breakfast while we wait?”

“I’ve got all day,” he said. “You can put my order in when the next table fills up.”

“So?” he barked.

“I made a new friend,” I answered. His expression didn’t change, but the tone was more inquisitive.