“You don’t want to come?”
She shakes her head. “Well, I will if I have to, but if you want something to do...” She shrugs. “I hate grocery shopping, even if it is just for the staples.” She leads the way to the kitchen where she pulls a card out of her purse and hands it to me, and then scrawls out a rough list on a scrap of paper.
“The store is right at the end of the road, a couple of minutes’ drive at most.”
I nod, taking the card, list, and shopping bags, and head out.
But I don’t take my car. If it’s only a few minutes’ drive then it’ll be not too much longer to walk, and I could really do with some fresh air.
I set off in the direction Brylee pointed me, taking in all the flowers that are blooming at this time of year. The trees look magnificent, glossy green leaves covering their branches. Autumn isn’t far away, though it’s still too early for the leaves to be changing color. That’s my favorite season, Autumn, with all those beautiful colors as the leaves change, exposing the trees and coating the ground with crisp crunchy leaves.
It was probably the one thing I loved about college, walking through all those piles of leaves, and all the Autumn social activities people put on, the last chance to party before Winter’s snows keeps everyone indoors.
I’m almost disappointed I won’t be there to join in the festivities this year, but then I think of those classes, and all those failed tests and assignments, and that’s more than enough to make me set my jaw, and march a little faster down the road.
I won’t go back to that. Not now, not ever.
It only takes about ten minutes to reach the shop, and maybe another ten to find the few bits and pieces on Brylee’s list.
I grab a block of chocolate off the shelf. It’s not on her list, but I’m sure she won’t mind. It’s not like I’m going to keep it for myself.
I open it up on the walk home, snacking on a row.
It’s so nice here, in this part of the city. Everyone has beautiful gardens, and huge estates. My home is not too far away, and the area is very similar to here, and yet there’s something about it today that makes me wish I could stay here, instead of going home.
I push away the thought that it’s because I’m scared of what my parents are going to do, or say, when I do eventually go back.
I’m so lost in my own thoughts that I don’t see my dad’s car until the last minute, and even then I think it must be a neighbor, who has a car like his.
But as I reach Brylee’s driveway there’s no doubt it’s my father’s car parked in her driveway, and I feel that heavy weight on my heart again.
I approach the door, wondering if I can get Brylee to say I’ve left, but of course my car is still sitting in the driveway, too, so that’s not going to help.
She must be watching out for me, because she’s got the door open, a fake smile plastered across her face.
“Where’ve you been?” she mutters, when I’m close enough to hear. “Why didn’t you take your car? Your dad turned up almost as soon as you disappeared from sight. I tried to tell him I didn’t know where you’d gone, but he insisted on waiting for you.”
I pass Brylee the shopping, and the card.
“What does he want?”
She shrugs. “He doesn’t seem angry. My dad’d be furious if I pulled a stunt like that on him. Yours seems quite calm.”
I swallow. That isn’t good. It just means he’s found another way to win.
I picture those dark corridors at college, those uncomfortable seats, filled with students who may or may not want to be there. I don’t want to go back, but if he’s calm, instead of angry, then the sinking feeling in my chest tells me I will be.
I take a deep breath, and follow Brylee back into the house.
My father is sitting at the kitchen bench, a coffee in hand. Brylee retrieves hers and excuses herself. Someone seems to have made me one, too, there’s a third mug sitting at the end of the bench, an empty stool waiting for me to sit on it.
I don’t.
“Savannah.” Father’s voice is calm, and he looks at my face as he speaks. “It seems I’ve dealt with this rather poorly,” he continues. “You’ve always been such an easy to manage child, always happy to help, to do what is expected of you. This sudden change in attitude has come as quite a shock to your mother and I.”
I raise an eyebrow, my arms crossed over my chest, but say nothing.
He sighs. “You have never had to want for anything in your life,” he says. “We’ve always had the best of everything, and we’ve always shared that with you, too. Why wouldn’t we? But I fear that you don’t understand the opportunity you are being given now. To study, to work with your mind, and not your hands, that is a gift, Savannah. And your mother and I know you have the brains for it.” He shakes his head. “We can’t understand why you’re not applying them here.”
“Because it’s boring.” I can’t keep my mouth shut any longer. “It’s tedious, and boring, and I don’t actually care a lot about it.”
Father lifts his hands in surrender. “All right. I see. It can be hard to stay focused if you aren’t interested. And we can see that losing your allowance isn’t going to be enough to show you what a great opportunity you’re missing.” He pulls an envelope from his pocket. “So your mother and I have decided to try a different tact.”
“You have?” My mouth drops open, and I take a few tentative steps forward. I pause, and narrow my eyes. This seems too easy. “I don’t have to go back to college?”
Father tilts his head to one side. I knew it was too easy.
“We’d like to... negotiate a different opportunity with you. You can put your course on hold, for the moment, and if you can fulfil this opportunity, and at the end of it you still don’t want to go back to your studies, then you may withdraw from your course all together, and focus on finding out what it is you do want to do with your life. You will receive your full allowance while you stick with this opportunity. Of course if you realize at any point that the course you’ve already partly completed is what you should be doing, then you can revert to that at any point during the period.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing, but I edge closer, finally sitting on the stool opposite my father.
“What is the opportunity?”
“It’s twelve months in length.”
I nod, my heart soaring. Twelve months guaranteed no college. But there’s got to be a catch.
“You will have heard me speak of my friend, Stefano?”
I raise a brow. Father talks of Stefano all the time, but I mostly tune out. What did I want to hear stories about a friend I was highly unlikely to ever meet?
“The farmer in Italy?”
My father beams. “That’s the one. He’s looking for a farm hand to help out. There’ll be a mix of chores, both work on the farm, and babysitting, and various other tasks that are very labor intensive. You will be required to help out with whatever he expects of you.”
My heart sinks. “A farm, in Italy? What about a farm here? What about my friends? I can’t even speak any Italian!”
I picture father’s friend, Stefano, in my mind, my father’s age, with the same middle age spread around his waist, and greying hair at his temples. And babysitting duties. So he must have a wife and kids. Suddenly the thought of looking after other people’s children is not so enticing, despite my words to Brylee about how easy child-rearing was.
“I don’t know any farmers around here,” Father says. “I only know Stefano. He is strict, but fair. You’ll soon see how good you have it here, with your books and study.”
I bristle at the comment. That’s why he’s sending me off, so I’ll beg to come home. His next words prove it.
“As for your friends, I think we can both agree they aren’t the best influence. If they were, you’d never be in this predicament, because they would never have pulled you from your studies.” He shakes his head. “You could be graduating at the end of this year, Sav
annah, and instead you’re repeating first year classes. Don’t tell me you aren’t aware of what a waste of your life that’s been.”
I take a deep breath. College, or Italy. I know all my friends would be jumping at the chance to visit Italy, but this is not just a holiday, this is twelve whole months, where I will be stuck with people I can’t even talk to, miles from anyone I know.
“I’ll give you some time to think about it.” He stands. “Tell Brylee thank you for the coffee.”
I nod, but all I want to do is cry.
“What if I don’t want to do either?”
He’s at the door, but he turns, one hand on the door jamb, and meets my gaze.
“Then you will need to find yourself somewhere else to live. You are twenty-two years old now, as you were so quick to point out the other day. That is more than old enough to be independent, and look after yourself. If you choose to quit college, and if you refuse to go to Italy, then there is nothing else I or your mother can do for you. You will have two weeks to find new accommodation, and the job to finance your new independent life.”
He turns, and I hear the front door open and then shut behind him.
I close my eyes, and drop my head into my hands.
What am I going to do?
Chapter 2
Brylee is horrified.
“Italy?” she says, sinking on the stool where my father sat just moments before. “But that’s so far away!”
“I know!” I can feel the burn of tears behind my eyes. “And I can’t speak the language, and I won’t know a soul, and I won’t see you for twelve whole months.”
“You can’t go! There’s got to be another way.”
“There is.” I take a sip of my now cold coffee. “Find a job, and somewhere else to live.”
“What? Your father is kicking you out?” Brylee shakes her head in amazement. “I never imagined your dad would be the one to do that.”
I shrug. “He used my own words back at me. I’m twenty-two now. I’m an adult. I’m old enough to make my own choices. If I don’t go with his choices, then I need to find a job to finance my own life.”
“Hmm...” Brylee pulls out her phone, and begins to text.
“I’m inviting everyone over tonight,” she says. “We’ll find a way to get you out of this.”
I smile, even though inside I don’t see exactly how we can get me out of this. Brylee always knows the right thing to say, and it gives me hope. Surely one of my friends will have some ideas to help me out.
Almost as soon as Brylee texts our friends, there are a cascade of replies.
On my way. Amaya writes.
Neveah and Jace’s responses are only minutes later, and are basically a repeat of Amaya’s.
In less than half an hour all my closest friends are gathered round, and they all sit, wide eyed, while I tell my story.
“Shit.” Jace says. “Your dad really threatened to kick you out?”
I nod.
Amaya’s eyebrow is raised.
“It’s Italy!” Amaya plonks herself down in the armchair. “How can you even be thinking about not going?”
“But it’s so far away! I’ll never see you guys!” I take a mouthful of the cheap wine Brylee’s poured out for everyone, and grimace.
“Pfft!” Neveah tosses her hair. “Twelve months is nothing! Besides, I’m sure we can save our allowances and come and visit you. How awesome would that be? You’ll meet all those sexy Italian men, and you’ll probably be able to speak the language by then and impress us all with your new skills. Besides, isn’t it exactly what you told Brylee you wanted. Something out doors, with hot men?”
“Ha!” I almost snort my coffee. “This man is my dad’s age, and married. His children are young enough to need babysitting. They live on a farm, so they’ll be miles from anywhere, and I’ll probably be stuck there, for the whole time I’m there.”
Amaya rolls her eyes. “You’re being melodramatic. Get over it. Twelve months goes by so fast, it’ll be over before you know it, and then you can get on with whatever you decide you want to do with your life. Better than finishing this degree and then being stuck doing law for the rest of your days.”
Jace purses his lips. “You definitely don’t want to go to Italy?”
I shake my head.
“And we know you can’t keep going back to college.”
I nod.
“So, moving out is your only option.”
My heart sinks, though I know he’s right.
“It can’t be that bad, surely?” I say.
“More independence,” Brylee points out. “You can have parties whenever you want, and do whatever you want, whenever you want. That’s freedom right there.”
My heart lifts a little.
“It wouldn’t be so bad, really, would it? Better than living at home, like a child.” I glance around the room at my friends, all still living with their parents. “Well, you know I don’t mean you guys.”
Jace waves away my comment. “We know.”
“More independence.” I take another breath, but with this one I’m feeling lighter. All those possibilities, right at my fingertips. I just need to be brave enough to take the plunge.”
“Yeah, that’s right. More independence. And more responsibility.” Amaya’s hands are on her hips, like she’s about to give a lecture. She glances between me and Brylee and Jace. “Do you ever stop to think about what your parents do for you? I mean, they pay the mortgage, and the rates, and taxes, and they pay the gardener and the cook.” Now she turns the full force of her lecture on to me. “You’ll have to clean for yourself, and cook for yourself. You’ll have to do the grocery shopping, and sort out a mechanic if your car breaks down, and pay for your own insurance.” Amaya shakes her head, her hair flouncing about her shoulders. “I’ve looked into moving out. You have no idea how expensive it is. You’re working full time just to pay the rent, never mind food and petrol. And you can forget about partying, there’s no money for that.”
“Oh come on, May,” Jace uses his nickname for her. “It can’t all be that bad. Plenty of kids our age do it—”
“Yeah, plenty whose parents can’t afford to keep them,” Amaya interrupts.
Jace turns his back to her to look at me.
“Have you looked for jobs yet? Or an apartment? Maybe we could do that, now?” He glances around at everyone else. They all pull out their phones, except for Amaya who raises an eyebrow.
“Don’t listen to me,” she says. “I’ve got better things to do with my time anyway.” I feel bad as she leaves, though no one else seems to notice, embedded as they are in helping me. Besides, she does have a habit of looking at the negative side of things, all the time. It’s not always helpful.
As the afternoon progresses though, it’s clear she’s right.
“You’ve got no work experience, or qualifications,” Neveah says. “You’ll have to start on minimum wage.”
“Which is?” I ask.
“Twelve dollars an hour.”
In the scheme of things, that really means nothing to me. “Okay, how much is a day’s pay then?”
Jace works it out on his calculator. “For an eight-hour day, that’s ninety-six dollars.”
“Ninety-six dollars?” My heart sinks. I could spend that in an hour. My current outfit cost at least double that. And I’d have to work for a day to earn that much? I don’t even have to spend that many hours at college, though I probably should be spending the extra time at home studying.
“Okay.” I swallow. “But I have plenty of clothes, my closet is overflowing, literally, I can’t even close the doors. I wouldn’t need to shop for a while.”
“I think clothes is the least of your worries, Savannah.” Neveah leans forward to rest a hand on my knee. “What about a place to stay, first?”
We look up rental properties, but there’s nothing nearby. And when I find something, still nice, but on the cheaper end of the scale, we realize Amaya is right. A full
time job only just pays the rent. If I want to eat, and fill my car, and even have a couple of drinks with friends, I need at least double that.
I slump into Brylee’s armchair.
“I can’t move out.” I’m struggling to get my head around it. Surely it should be easy, find an apartment, and a job. I have the brief thought that my father could probably find me some better paid work amongst his connections, but then I dismiss it. He’ll probably point out that at twenty-two, I shouldn’t need that sort of help anymore.
I can’t do law anymore.” I shake my head. “I just can’t go back. It’ll have to be Italy.” I look around my room, at the relief in Neveah’s eyes that I’ve actually made a decent choice, and the despair in Brylee’s that we won’t see each other for such a long time.
“We can text,” she says, as though reading my mind. “And video chat, and call. Every day. And Neveah’s right, it’ll be an amazing experience.”
“Yeah,” Jace adds. “Treat it like a working holiday. Heaps of people our age do that sort of thing.”
“Right. A working holiday.” I nod, and scull back the remaining half glass of my wine. “Great. That’ll be easy. Twelve months, no time at all.”
I stay at Brylee’s for two more days. Dad did say he’d give me time to think about it, but he didn’t say how long, so Brylee and I spend the time shopping, and hanging out, to make the most of the time we won’t have over the coming year.
“When did your Dad say you had to decide by?” Brylee asks, as we sip milkshakes and watch the eye candy in the mall.
“He didn’t. So I’ll just wait for him to contact me.”
“Good plan.”
I’m not certain, but I think she’s being sarcastic, and I glance up.
She shrugs. “The longer you wait, the longer it will be before you have to leave. Your parents will have to get tickets, won’t they, and you’ll need a passport, won’t they, and then there’s all those visas and things. That’s got to take time.” She tilts her head on one side. “If you’re lucky you’ll still be here for Halloween—Amaya has the best Halloween party ever planned, costumes and food. Her parents have bought that rundown old place on the edge of the suburb, and have renovated inside so it’s amazing, but kept the outside exactly as it was.”
Her Double Punishment Page 2
