Page 6 of Deep Blue Lies
“Is that what we’re doing here? Breaking up?” He fires back at me so quickly it leaves me breathless. I feel outflanked, unable for a moment to find any words.
“I don’t know,” I say. “I don’t want to.”
We’re both silent for a while, while the buzz of happier conversations around the room washes over us.
“Well, how else is it going to work?” Kevin says after a while. “If you’re not here, and I can’t…” He glances back towards the table with his mates. “You know, maybe this isn’t the best place to have this conversation?”
“Oh? You think?” But I’m pissed off, because he’s less worried about breaking up with me than whether or not The Frazster is watching while it happens.
“Look, Ava. I’m sorry, alright? But both of us knew this thing was never that serious? And if you really wanted it to work, then maybe you could have put more effort into studying?” He shrugs again, like it wasobvious all along.
And that hurts. I think for a few moments, about how I’ve helped him with his studies, reading over what he’s written, testing him before his exams. Making sure he runs his essays through the anti-plagiarism checker before he submits them, because he always uses AI to write them. I think about telling him this, I hear the snark in the voice in my head. But what’s the point? Really, why bother? Instead I reach over and pick up his bottle of Prime. I crack the seal and take a deep swig. Then I stare at him.
“Why do you even drink this crap? You’re not twelve years old.”
I put the bottle down too hard, so the liquid fizzes up and out onto his sandwich. Then I get up, shake my head, and walk away.
THREE
I think about phoning Mum, to ask if she’ll come and get me, but that’s hardly fair. Besides I can’t face a six-hour journey of her disappointed silence. So instead I book a ticket on the next day’s Megabus to London. It’s eight hours of misery, but a bargain at only £17.99. Then I pack up my room. I manage to fit my whole life into one backpack and two plastic carrier bags. I email my landlord, thinking I might get some of my deposit back, but he replies with the contract, explaining how I have to give notice, so technically I owe him, but he won’t charge me if the room isn’t damaged. How do you even damage a room?
I have a few drinks with my housemates that evening. They tell me how much they’ll miss me, that we’ll keep in touch, but I know we won’t. I’m not the first to drop out of medical school. There’s so much work, and everyone’s under so much pressure. There’s just no time to remember the people that fall by the wayside. People like me.
The next day, I watch the side of the road slide by, the garbage, the weeds. I wonder what I’m going to do next.
But already I sort of know.
The Megabus drops me in London Victoria, and it costs me twice as much for the last leg down to Guildford. I walk the final mile, from the train station to the house where I grew up. We live on a new-build estate, with views of the sports field from my old secondary school. I could actually see my house from my old biology classroom. I used to sit in there and think about one day being a doctor. In the perfect future I imagined would just happen, all on its own. I guess I was wrong about that.
Our house is bigger than we need for just the two of us. Mum’s done well for herself, and she’s always on about how I need to do the same, which isn’t going to make this moment any less awkward. But as I get to the gate there’s something else. Mum’s car is on the driveway, her white Audi SUV, but there’s another car here too, a black Tesla that I don’t recognise. I stop and think about turning around, but where else am I gonna go? This is my home. At least, it sort of is.
Damn.I open the gate.
At the door I think about ringing the bell, but I still have my key, so I slide it in before I can change my mind. I turn it, and push open the door.
There’s a man’s voice. I hear him a fraction of a second before I see him.
“I’m just taking out the recycling…” He’s tall, a receding hairline shaved into a buzz cut that doesn’t look too bad for a guy his age. He’s carrying the plastic tub we use for plastics. He stops, freezing as he sees me. But he recovers first.
“Hello?”
“Hi,” I say.
“I was just…you must be…”
“Yeah. I’m Ava.” This is already going badly, but I step inside all the same. “Karen’s daughter.”
“Of course. She’s…” He smiles like he was about to say she’s talked a lot about me, but maybe she hasn’t? “I was just…” He holds up the recycling bucket as if this explains his presence in my house.Just popped over to help with the housework.
“Sure.”
I struggle out of the straps of my backpack. I might not have much in this world, but I’ve still carried it a mile from the station. Now the man holds out his hand.
“Matthew.” He tries to smile, a cool smile. “Call me Matt. I’m a…friend of your mother.” He doesn’t get the chance to say anything more, because then Mum sticks her head around the door.
“Ava?”
“Hi, Mum.”
