Page 43 of Sorry, We're Closed

Gwen:OH MY GOD! Not only have you bagged yourself an incredible and attractive guy but damn he can play and sing!! If you don’t, I will!

Avory:Hey! We just finished our set and oh my god, Tetherton is amazing!

Avory:Well clearly, it has you <3

Avory: Is it weird to say I miss you?

My mind, which has just awoken from the brief moment of silence in the form of sleep from the hammering thoughts of Avory, is now bouncing once again with questions and puzzling thoughts. Does Gwen think we are dating? Because we aren't dating. I don't even understand what we are, but that is a conversation that I have no experience in having.

Avory misses me?No, that's not weird at all, because I miss you, too. I have done all evening, all day, ever since you had to leave, and I stood in the staff room with the giddiest smile possible. Avory is probably still at the concert, with Marcus, enjoying the farewell to the warming air and blissful sun which blesses our town each day. I stare at my closet, and know that within the next half an hour, I could piece together an adorning outfit and throw my legs in front of each other, one after another, and be on that beach. I could take his hands in mine, have my lips pressing to his once again, finally introduce him properly to Gwen and Xander and everyone as my—well, we should actually find a quiet area on the beach first and discuss it all.

When did I throw the duvet off and have my bare feet on the cold, hardwood floors? I'm not sure about what I am apparently planning to do, but suddenly, the idea of that conversation doesn't seem that bad. My revelation is interjected with mutterings and cackles which reside on the other side of the front door. She’s home, and obviously not alone.

The front door creaks open and slams shut soon after.Silence. I peek out of my bedroom window to see a bulky silhouette dragging his feet away from the house, his unbuttoned shirt rolling in the evening wind. She turned someone away. The silence has never sounded so loud throughout the house. No fake enjoyment, no teenage giggling while running up the stairs into her bedroom, no glass bottles. Nothing. My heartbeat quickens, my breathing turns shallow and rapid.

In, hold, out. In—fuck this, what is going on?

My mind rapidly flicks through a mental folder of every single thing I have ever done wrong or could’ve done wrong in her eyes. I stare at my feet as I try to centre myself, but my bedroom door swings open and bashes into the wall, strong enough to leave a dent in the shape of the handle. The streetlamps illuminate my mother, who currently stands in the middle of my room, her arms crossing over her chest and her eyes burning into my skin. Her stare wide, her lips pinching tightly together, her face trembling but I can't tell why. I can't handle not being able to read her expression clearly, that's how I judge how to deal with these interactions I often cause.

I shakily stand myself up, my legs feeling as if they could snap at any moment. I slowly step around her to find my light switch, knowing it’s close to my bedroom door. I don't reach the light switch, instead my mother's hand rips its way into my knotted curls and jerks me back to her side. I yelp in pain, my scalp stinging as if a million needles have sown their way into each and every follicle. My hands meet hers as I attempt to untangle her bones and rings the best I can before she forces me back to my bed, the frame creaking with the forceful impact.

She smacks her hand all over the wall until she finds the switch, her eyes never leaving my frail frame. A pale-yellow brightness spotlights the room as the overhead lights warm up, yet I wish they wouldn't. I so desperately want to sink back into the darkness because this is an expression I have never witnessed before. Tears begin to well up and wet my delicate glasses’ frame, the silence which hums around the room even making my falling tears sound like rushing rivers. My chest tightens and strangles any vocals I could create. I can't speak, breathe, or move. She steps closer, and I fear what would happen, I fear her every movement now. My scalp aches and serves as a constant reminder of what she’s capable of.

“I'll start you off, shall I? Avory Bright. Explain the rest before I do. I am giving you a chance to explain.” Her voice is laced with poisonous strands, which takes a venomous punch at me with every word.

Shit. Avory.

She found out about him. How? I think about his last message, saying how he misses me, and here I am being punished for ever thinking he could be something, someone, important to me. For all I know, that could be my last message from him, depending on how this conversation goes.

My mind sprints back to her exact tone which I have heard before, except Mother was on the receiving end. Father used this toxicity with her all those years ago. My throat is bone dry, and the words I form are scratchy and sore, but I tell her everything.

“He came into the café one day.”

There is no point in lying because one way or another, she has discovered my secret.

“Overtime, we have gotten closer.”

I have spent years longing to have this conversation, and it seems that this opportunity is shoving itself into my face.

“We’ve spent time after work together.”

I just want her to understand what took me years to understand about myself. I still don't fully understand it, but I know that Avory brings out this side of me which I never want to lock away for the benefits of others ever again. I’m not ready to hide away again.

“We talk all of the time.”

My throat stings, scratches with how long I have been speaking, but she needs to hear this.

“And I don’t know what we are, but—” I rise to my feet and whisper the last words to my mother's face before my voice fades into the silence.

She sucks on her teeth as the words hang in the night air. The first time my feelings for Avory topple out of my mouth, and it's to my mother. She can't bring herself to look at me, her gaze darting around the room until her eyes squeeze themselves shut, and her hand strikes my cheek with such force. I grip my cheek, and a sudden heat rises to the surface, I can feel the crimson print that would eventually develop on my skin, yet the stinging sensation means nothing to me compared to the reasoning behind her strike. Every word leaves her lipstick plastered mouth in the most vicious manner.

“So, he rocked up to my town, with his shitty band, and you thought it would be acceptable to do the one thing that ruined this family already? You have already ruined one life, Sawyer, why must you ruin his as well as mine?”

The tears create waterfalls which cascade down my cheeks and drip from my chin. My throat feels like it’s being ripped in every possible direction, a metallic taste filling the back of my mouth and lingering on my tongue. A volume I never realised I could reach, alongside a sense of desperation which I have never voiced before appears.

“Why can't I just be myself? It causes you no harm! I'm never a priority, I'm not even a thought to you, so why does it matter who I kiss?” I sob as I stumble, my head feeling light and causing my vision to blur.

Her boozy breath fills my nostrils. She takes everything I scream at her in silence. She inhales a deep, cold breath. Every one of her words aims directly for me and is ready to be fired.

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