by Sara Martin
“You can come in,” Charlotte said. “Enjoying the party?”
“Yes. I’m happy to see Julian in such good spirits.”
“It’s nice, isn’t it?” She couldn’t hide a hint of sadness in her voice.
“Are you and Julian close?”
“Of course. And you? Julian mentions you every now and then.”
“He does?”
Charlotte nodded. “You helped him out a lot while I’ve been away. Thank you.”
“Oh.” So, that’s all she meant. “That’s okay.”
“I know Julian really appreciated it.” Charlotte slipped her lip gloss back into her makeup bag.
She was about to leave when I spoke up. There was just something I wanted to clear up before I confessed my feelings to Julian. “So, is there something between you and Julian?” I asked. “I don’t mean to pry or anything. It’s just that I thought you looked like a couple.”
Charlotte was rendered silent for a moment. It looked as if she were deciding something. Then, she uttered a single word.
“Yes.”
28
My world came crumbling down. Charlotte’s face flashed with a look of…regret? Guilt?
“I’m… sorry,” I said, before I swiftly made my exit.
Back outside, I desperately tried to recompose myself. My efforts were futile. Seeing Julian at the table, smiling and laughing, was a sledgehammer to my heart. I realised just how strong my feelings were for him now. I wouldn’t be able to make it to the end of the party without breaking down. I gathered my things in preparation for a sly exit, but Julian looked my way and must have noticed my distress. He was by my side at once.
“Ivy? Are you okay?”
“I just… I don’t feel well.”
“Can I get you anything? A glass of water? Paracetamol?”
“No, thanks.” His kindness was almost unbearable. “I think I’ll head home.”
“Please…stay.”
I was about to cry. “I want to go home.”
Julian looked concerned, but he didn’t push any further. “Will you be okay?”
I nodded. He handed me my coat.
Confused and upset, I drove home. As soon as I arrived, I headed straight to my room, slumped on the bed and cried into my pillow.
So, there was something between Julian and Charlotte after all. Of course, there was. Why am I such an idiot?
I slept fitfully. My phone went off several times during the night, but I ignored it, too exhausted to care.
When I woke late in the morning, it took a few moments for my memories to return. With bleary eyes, I reached for my phone. There were five new messages. The first four were from Lana.
So how did it go?
Are you home yet? What happened?
Ivy? You promised you’d tell me everything.
Is everything okay? Let me know in the morning.
The fifth message was from Julian.
Hope you are okay?
I’m not okay, I thought but texted back the opposite.
It took a huge amount of effort to drag myself to school on Monday. When I arrived, Lana rushed to my side. She looked pained.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, pulling me into a hug.
“It’s not your fault,” I protested, my voice hoarse from a day of crying.
“I encouraged you to do this.”
“It was the right thing to do.”
“I never imagined it would turn out this way.”
“It was a shock for me too.”
Lana sighed. “At least you know now.”
I forced a smile. “Yeah. Now, I won’t be so sad about him leaving. I can focus on my future.”
“That’s a good way to look at it.” Lana fiddled with her jersey hem. She seemed preoccupied.
“What’s wrong?”
She frowned. “I just can’t shake the feeling something doesn’t add up.”
“What do you mean?”
“You said Julian’s art teacher seemed convinced Julian liked you.”
“That’s right.”
“And Julian’s friend joked about your age difference.”
“Yeah. Now, that you mention it, that was pretty strange.”
Lana paced in thought before coming to a pause. She looked me in the eye. “Do you think we can trust Charlotte?”
My thoughts plunged back to my conversation with Julian in the park. “She seems to have it all together… She’s in a downward spiral… She’s depressed…” Charlotte wasn’t stable, according to him.
But still. What reason could she possibly have to deceive me?
“I don’t think she would lie about something like this.”
“I suppose so.” Lana chewed her lip. “It was just a thought.”
We didn’t have time to ruminate any further. We headed to class.
I was too mentally exhausted to function for most of the day. The events of the night of the party replayed over and over in my head. By fifth period, I had a pounding headache. When class was finally dismissed I exhaled in relief.
As I walked home from school, Lana’s comment about Charlotte resurfaced at the forefront of my mind. A tantalising shred of hope, but I refused to let myself cling to it. I wasn’t going to open myself up to more hurt. I had to get over this.
On my way up the driveway, I absentmindedly checked the letter box. I sorted through the mail and stopped when I found something addressed to me. I turned over the envelope. Stamped on the back was The Elias Institute.
29
I clutched the envelope in my trembling hands. I felt so dizzy, I could’ve fainted. Gathering myself, I brought the mail inside. I took the letter to the living room where I sat down on the couch. Several minutes passed before I worked up the courage to open it. I held my breath while I gently tore the seal open. I pulled out the sheet inside and unfolded it.
Dear Ivy Beckett,
Thank you for your application to the creative writing course at the Elias Institute. We regret to inform you that your application has been unsuccessful.
I couldn’t read any more. My eyes welled up. My breath caught in my throat. I choked. Then, I sobbed hysterically. Just like that, my dreams had been shattered. Everything had been for nothing.
How could I have been so stupid? Of course, I was never going to get in. These thoughts swirled in my head, taunting me. I curled into a ball and cried my heart out. I stayed like that until Mum came home from work. She found me in a quivering heap on the couch, my eyes swollen and red. The letter was screwed up in the middle of floor.
“Ivy, what on earth happened?”
I tried to speak but couldn’t.
Mum picked up the letter, smoothed it out and read it, her expression turning into a grimace. “I see,” she said. She reached out to me and wrapped me in her arms.
I sobbed against her chest.
Mum rocked me until I stopped crying. “Everything will be okay,” she said, but everything was not okay.
Julian liked Charlotte, not me, and I wasn’t good enough to get into my dream school.
“There’s always law school, honey. I’m sure you’ll get in.”
This made my wails start all over again.
Mum hushed me. “I’m sorry. I know how much you wanted this.”
Tears rolled down my cheeks. Mum held me as I cried.
When Dad got home, he quietly watched the scene before him.
“I’ve got this,” Mum said.
Dad nodded. “I’ll make dinner.”
While Dad cooked, Mum took me to the bathroom and ran me a bath. I got in and tried to relax. The hot water soothed my aching body, but my eyes still stung with the remnants of my tears.
I walked through the next few days completely numb to everything. Even Lana couldn’t get through to me. She had been researching other creative writing courses but couldn’t find anything. Application deadlines had closed long ago.
Another letter arrived for me. The envelope had the Hill Universit
y logo on it. I didn’t care at all. Whether I got in or not, nothing could be any worse than the current situation I was in. I left the unopened envelope on the kitchen counter.
Mum came to my room that evening. “Your letter from Law School is here!”
“Oh, I didn’t see it.” I was less than enthused but tried not to show it.
“Do you want to open it?”
“You can do it. I don’t want another shock.”
Mum put her reading glasses on and sat down on the edge of the bed. She opened the envelope. Her eyes quickly scanned the letter. Her smile said it all.
“You’ve done it! You’re in!” She stood up, grabbed my hand and pulled me towards her. “I knew you would. This is what you were meant to do.”
“I guess you’re right,” I conceded with a sigh.
“So, you’ll accept?” Mum asked, her hands clasped together as if praying.
“I will.”
Mum hugged me.
Later that night, I watched as she filled out the form, confirming my place. All that was left to do was mail it back, along with the required acceptance fee. Then, my future would be locked in.
30
The bell rang at the end of English class. I put my books away. “Ivy, can I have a word with you?” Mr. Donaldson asked.
“Uh, sure.”
He waited until everyone else had left the room before pulling out a chair opposite me. “I heard the acceptance letters for Elias had gone out. How did you do?”
I looked down at my feet. “I didn’t get in.”
“Oh, dear. I was sure you would get in. They must have had a very high quality of applicants this year.”
I could tell he was just trying to cheer me up.
“Did you apply anywhere else?”
“The law degree at Hill.”
“Any other creative writing courses?”
I shook my head. “I got into law school.”
“Will you accept it?”
“Yes.”
Mr. Donaldson furrowed his brow. “I thought you changed your mind about being a lawyer?”
I shrugged. “Maybe this is the path for me. I’m not a very good writer, but maybe I’ll make a good lawyer. I won’t know unless I try.”
“It’s a big investment, Ivy. In both time and money. You should be sure this is what you want to do.”
“What other option do I have?”
“There are so many options.”
“What options?”
“A university education isn’t the be all and end all. You don’t need a degree to be a writer.”
I let his words sink in. “I guess so.”
“There’s travel, work, volunteering, starting a business… The world is full of possibilities for a young person such as yourself.”
“I didn’t really think about anything like that.”
“Give it some more thought before you commit to university. How long do you have to accept your place at law school?”
“Around three weeks, I think.”
“Then there’s no point rushing into it.”
“No. I suppose not.”
“Chin up, Ivy. I’m sure things will work out for you. Whatever path you choose.”
“Thank you, Mr. Donaldson.”
I really took his words to heart. It was true. I hadn’t given much thought to other options. Throughout my whole life it just seemed like a given that I would finish high school then go to university. Anything else was for slackers. Perhaps I had been wrong. Could there possibly be another path for me?
When I got home from school, I went to my room. The acceptance form to Law School had vanished from my desk. I wondered if Mum had posted it already. I prayed she hadn’t.
When Mum arrived home, I approached her. “Did you send back my acceptance form?” I asked, abruptly.
“No, I didn’t have time today. It’s in my bag.”
A sense of relief flooded me, but it didn’t make the next words any easier. I took in a breath. “Good. Don’t send it.” I braced myself for her reaction.
“Why? Did you forget something?”
“No.”
Mum’s face turned pale.
“I’m not sure I want to go,” I continued, “I want to give it more thought.”
“But you seemed so sure the other day,” Mum spluttered.
“Well, I’ve changed my mind.”
“This isn’t about this writing nonsense again is it?”
“So, what if it is? And it isn’t nonsense.”
“Oh, grow up, Ivy. Creative writing isn’t a real career. How do you expect to succeed when you couldn’t even get into Elias?”
Her words stung. “I’m not listening to this.”
“Tough luck. I’m sending the acceptance form tomorrow. You’ll thank me later.”
“Bitch.” I said under my breath.
“What did you say?”
“Bitch!” I yelled.
I strode out of the house and slammed the door in her face before she could respond. Tears in my eyes, I ran down the driveway. When I was far away from the house I slowed down but continued aimlessly. Even as it began to grow dark I kept walking. The street lights flicked on. I realised I was walking to Opulence. Adrenaline surged through me. My sadness gave way to anger. Anger gave way to resolve. I’m not going to law school, I decided. I didn’t want to do anything that would please her. I only wanted to please myself.
When I finally arrived at the small block of shops, all was quiet and dark. I clung to the tiniest kernel of hope that Priscilla, or even Julian, would be in the shop. The door was locked. I knocked and prayed. Finally, after a rustling sound, the door opened.
“My dear,” Priscilla exclaimed.
I fell into her arms. The familiar scent of her perfume comforted me.
“Whatever is the matter?”
“Everything’s messed up.”
“Sounds like you had better come in. Let’s have something to eat and a chat.”
Priscilla led me inside. The shop was illuminated by a single lamp at the counter, where piles of paper were stacked and spilling over.
“I didn’t think you would be here,” I said.
“You’re in luck. I needed to get some paperwork done tonight, so I’m staying late.”
We went to the kitchen. The smell of Chinese food flooded my nostrils.
“Lucky I ordered extra. I thought Julian might come by.” Priscilla served me a plate of fried rice and sweet and sour pork.
“Thank you,” I said, before greedily digging in. I hadn’t realised quite how hungry I was.
Priscilla waited patiently as I ate.
When I was ready, I explained my situation. “I didn’t get into the creative writing course I applied to.”
“I see.”
“And I didn’t apply for any other back-up options. Only law school.”
Priscilla waited for me to continue.
“I got into law school, but I can’t face going there. It’s not what I want. I had a huge fight with my mum over it.”
“Ivy, let me tell you a story about a young woman.”
I wondered where this was going.
“She graduated high school. Everyone told her she was intelligent and had a bright future ahead of her. Her parents wanted her to do well. She went to university to study to be a dentist. After three years of studying dental surgery, she could no longer deny her feelings. It wasn’t for her, so she quit. She spent the next year unemployed, trying to figure out what to do with her life.”
I grimaced. This story wasn’t making me feel any better.
“One day, it dawned on her. She had a fascination with art. So why not learn more about it? She decided to go back to school to study art history. Her parents thought she was crazy, but their opinion no longer held any sway. She ended up getting a part-time job at an auction house. She then went on to get a master’s degree, travel the world, and finally, open her own shop.”
I realised, perhaps a little
late, she was talking about herself.
“My point is that life isn’t straightforward. There are many twists and turns.”
“I know. But I feel so disorientated.”
“That’s only natural.”
“What should I do?”
“I can’t tell you what’s in your heart. You’ll have to work that out yourself.”
“My heart tells me to be a writer. I’d like to write a novel.”
“Then write that novel. All you need to do is choose a lifestyle which will enable it.”
She made it sound so simple. Perhaps it really was simple. I felt a weight lift from my shoulders. “Thank you, Priscilla. I feel a lot better.”
“You’re welcome, Ivy. You can always talk to me.”
A smile spread across my face. “I can’t believe you originally wanted to be a dentist.”
“I can barely believe it myself. It feels like a lifetime ago.”
Hours had passed since I ran away from home. I wondered if my parents were beginning to worry about me. Nevertheless, I couldn’t face going back. Not yet.
“Stay as long as you like,” Priscilla said. “I have work to do, but you’re free to stay here. Or you could go upstairs.”
“The studio.”
Priscilla nodded. “Although it’s not much of a studio now. It’s mostly been cleared out.”
“Julian isn’t using it anymore?”
“He’s getting ready to leave. Most of his things have already been sold or packed up.”
“I see.”
“Head on up. I’ll be down here if you need me.”
The narrow staircase creaked as I ascended. In the studio, I flicked on the light. The room was now completely empty except for the desk in front of the window, cleared of all the mess.
“It’s like he’s already left,” I said to myself, an unexpected note of melancholy in my voice.
I sat at the desk and gazed out over the township below.
Many minutes passed while I was lost in thought. I had so much to think about. My life was now a blank slate. Anything was possible. The thought was thrilling and terrifying.
