by A. E. Murphy
Trying to think on an empty stomach and no coffee just doesn’t work for me. I need to top up my morning dose, but don’t have anything in my cupboards. That hamper I received might have something, but I need to get out of the house. I will explore it later.
Eloise
“Stupid, dumb, piece of shit arse car!” I exclaim and kick the wheel, instantly regretting my action when a sharp pain shoots up my shin. “What is wrong with you?”
It’s a very expensive BMW. They just don’t break down as you’re driving down a road two miles under the speed limit.
Well, they aren’t supposed to anyway.
Unfortunately I don’t know crap about cars and I’ll be waiting on the emergency breakdown service, aka my dad, for another hour minimum. I shouldn’t have gone around the edge of town to get home, but I like the drive. It’s so pretty with the lavender fields and pretty trees surrounding them. It’s a forty five minute walk home, something I’m not risking in my kitten heels. My feet will hurt and a car is bound to drive by sooner or later, although the three that have didn’t stop.
Arseholes.
The sun is starting to set and it’s getting a little bit nippy. I turn on my lights and sit on the bonnet, with my phone in hand and my jacket hanging loosely from my shoulders. I would wait in the car, but another car could drive by at any moment and if I don’t flag them down they probably won’t stop, even though my hazard lights are flashing.
People are mean. I’d stop if I saw somebody stuck at the side of the road. Even knowing I couldn’t do anything, I’d offer them my phone or a ride or something.
I call my dad again, who reassures me that my uncle will be here soon. I don’t believe him. My uncle isn’t the most reliable man that ever walked the earth. He tends to get lost frequently… normally in a pub on his lunch break or on the way to family dinners.
This is so boring.
Another car drives by, taking my hopes for rescue with it. Bastards. What kind of person sees a young girl broken down at the side of the road and just leaves her stranded?
I lie back on my windshield and rest my arm over my head. I’ll hear a car if it comes.
“What on earth are you doing?” An angry male voice snaps me out of my half sleep. I recognise it immediately and respond, “Catching some sunshine, what does it look like?”
“It’s freezing out here.” Mr Price steps towards me as I sit upright and slide from the bonnet and onto my feet.
“Well I was hoping somebody would stop if they thought I was dead.” I smile devilishly. “I was right. You stopped. I didn’t hear you drive up.”
“Probably because you were snoring,” he comments wryly and moves to the driver’s side of my car. “What’s wrong with it?”
“If I knew that, I wouldn’t be stranded waiting for my dad. Cars aren’t exactly my area of expertise.”
His brow quirks and his blue eyes twinkle in the dim light from the darkening night. “Do you even have an area of expertise?”
My mouth drops open; I feign offence. “Harsh, Mr P, real harsh. Besides, I’m sure I have many. I just haven’t discovered them yet.”
He halts, his hand on the door handle as his body shakes slightly with silent laughter.
I don’t get it. “What’s so funny?”
“N… nothing.” Clearing his throat, he slides into the seat and I hand him my keys. “The switch for the bonnet is somewhere in there.”
He presses something under the steering wheel and the bonnet clicks open.
Well at least now I know where that is. Not that I’ll remember.
“So, how exactly did it stop working?” He asks, climbing from the seat and moving around to the front of the car.
“Umm… it just kind of began to choke and make these weird spluttering noises and then it just slowed to a stop. Whenever I turn the key it…” He marches past me, drops back into the seat and turns the key in the ignition. The engine makes an awful noise as it fights for life but fails.
“Fucking hell,” he mutters and rests his forehead against the steering wheel.
“What? Is it bad?”
His head comes up and his face looks at me incredulously. “Are you kidding? How old are you?”
“Eighteen in, like, six months.”
“How long have you been driving?”
“Three months.” I wait for him to continue, but he still looks at me, perplexed.
“Is this even your car?”
I shake my head and shrug a little. “Me and my mum share it. My dad won’t let me have mine back. I apparently didn’t look after it properly, but in my defence I didn’t know it needed water and oil, and a few empty wrappers does not mean I was lazy with it. I was just always in a hurry…”
“It’s out of petrol.”
Blink. “Come again?”
“You didn’t fill the tank. It’s out of petrol. It’s dead because you have no petrol in it.” He sighs deeply and climbs back from the driver’s seat as my face flushes red.
“I umm… knew that and I was just testing you.” I lie, which only makes him chuckle to himself and murmur something under his breath.
“Is it diesel or petrol?”
“Petrol,” I respond, chewing on my lower lip as he locks it up and moves towards his own car.
He looks up and down the road and over to the trees, a look of indecision on his face. “I should just go and pick some up for you and bring it back, but I don’t feel that you’re safe here on your own.”
“It’s Lily Hill; it’s never unsafe.”
“That’s because most people in town don’t put themselves in situations where they’re potentially unsafe. If you’ll allow me to, I’ll take you to the petrol station. We’ll fill up a tank and bring it back.”
My lips part and a shudder rushes through me at the thought of being so close to a male teacher… in his car… in the middle of nowhere. Part of me thinks I should decline. The other part is screaming at me to just enjoy his company for a little while.
The sensible part of me wins… “That would be great.” Okay so my mouth doesn’t seem to be agreeing with my brain. “Thank you, Mr Price.”
“Get in,” he orders and I quickly catch up to him, pulling open the passenger door and buckling myself in. “Don’t touch the radio.” My hand stops midway to the buttons on the console. “I appreciate it,” he adds, smirking as I place my hand back to my lap and pull out my phone to text my dad, letting him know that I’ve been rescued. “You’re lucky I was driving this way.”
“It’s a fortunate coincidence that’s for sure. Four cars ignored me driving past. Four. That’s just mean on so many levels.”
“Hmm.” He tweaks the radio so the music is low. “I’m actually glad I got this chance to speak to you. I forgot to mention to you earlier when you showed up with a basket bigger than yourself in your arms.”
“Shoot,” I say and twist in my seat so I’m looking at his profile.
“You didn’t do the work I assigned in class. The paper you gave to me was blank, save for the first two questions, which you’d written down but hadn’t yet answered.”
Bollocks. “Yeah, I was a little umm… I… I’m sorry. I just wasn’t paying attention.”
“Are you struggling with the work?” His brows draw together and he looks at me for a moment before turning his eyes back to the road. “If you are, please just say.”
“No, not at all. I love Churchill and that Muselin guy.”
“It’s Mussolini,” he corrects, his lips twitching.
“Right.” I murmur and watch his graceful movements as he changes gears and turns the corner that leads back into town. “I’ll get it done if you’ll give me the questions again. I’ve been a bit distracted lately.”
“Are things okay at home?”
The fact he seems genuinely concerned startles me. Most people in this town keep to themselves and don’t pick up on things that they should. “Things are fine. No complaints. I just meant because I’m working
and all of the work I have to catch up on. It’s my fault. I’ll get back into the swing of things once the year gets going again.”
He only nods and leaves it at that. I realise he doesn’t want to talk anymore when he turns the radio up and sinks back into his chair, his body seemingly relaxed but also tense at the same time. He’s not the only one who’s perceptive. Mr Price has problems at the moment, deeper problems than I, most likely. He must be stressed because of his mum. I don’t blame him. Alzheimer’s is an awful disease and Mrs Price is an awesome lady who doesn’t deserve such an awful thing.
We make it to the petrol station in total silence and Mr Price fills up the green petrol tank that he collects from his boot. I wait for him in the car as instructed, frowning when he ignores the money I hold out for him.
I watch him through the window of the station as he makes his way to the till and shares a laugh with the man behind the desk. They seem familiar. They probably know each other. It’s a small town.
When they both look my way, I shrink in my seat. Clearly they’re laughing at my expense. On a final nod, Mr Price turns and makes his way through the doors and back towards the car. He only grins when he notices my scowl and grins wider when I huff and turn away from him.
“Is that how you thank your rescuers normally?”
“Only when they poke fun at me with strangers.”
Rolling his eyes, he puts the car into gear and moves us out of the station. “I suppose I shouldn’t expect much, seeing as I already saved you once before and you weren’t exactly elated.”
My mouth drops open and my hand twists round to smack him on the arm. “I almost died! I was a little shaken.”
“Did you just hit me?”
“Umm…”
“You do know I could have you expelled for that? My dad is the head teacher after all.”
Now I’m the one rolling my eyes. “Dramatic much?” Then I bat my eyelids and clasp my hands under my chin. “Thank you, Mr Price, for rescuing me from the cold streets. I’ll be eternally in your debt.”
“And for saving your life,” He adds, his smile cocky.
My eyes roll again and my voice deepens with a mocking tone. “And for saving my pitiful existence. Happy?”
“Extremely.”
“Good.” Leaning forward slightly, I change the radio station and twist the volume up a notch.
“Pretty sure I said don’t touch the radio.”
“Pretty sure I just ignored you.”
He doesn’t smile, but he doesn’t seem irritated either. Instead he falls silent and concentrates on driving as I relax back and close my eyes, letting the soft voice of Lana Del Ray soothes my soul.
Chapter Six
Isaac
She doesn’t open her eyes until we stop behind her car. When she blinks them open with a faraway look in her glassy eyes, I wonder if she was almost asleep. She looks drowsy. Maybe I should drive her home.
“We’re here?” Her hands rub at her eyes before she yawns wide and silently, then ends it on a little shiver and shake of her body.
“Yep.” I open the door and notice her tremble when the cold air blasts into the car. “Are you okay to drive home?”
She nods, pulling her jacket tighter around herself before climbing from the car. I grab the tank of petrol from my boot and she follows me to her car. “I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure? I could drive you home?”
“I’m not totally useless, Mr Price.” She tilts her head and smiles before reaching up to the black sky and stretching her body. “How much do I owe you for the petrol?”
I don’t respond. I quickly fill the tank before opening the door for her and placing her keys in her hand. I forgot I even had them. “Drive safe.”
She nods and slides into the seat, before looking up at my shadowed face. Her green eyes seem to glow in the dark as she speaks. “I owe you one.”
“We’ll call it even, seeing as you saved me from the neighbour from hell.”
“Whatever you say.” She flashes me a smile and then turns the key in the ignition. “Drive safe, Mr Price.” I go to close the door, but she stops me with her hand on the window. “Don’t forget to get those questions ready for me. I’ll have them back to you as soon as possible.”
Sigh. More work. “Pick them up tomorrow morning.”
“Brilliant. Bye, Mr Price. Say hi to your mum for me.”
I nod and finally close the door, though she doesn’t drive away until I’m at mine and even beeps a quick goodbye as she passes.
Home time at last. Bloody students and their bloody naivety. As if she didn’t know it was the petrol. She doesn’t seem stupid by any means of the word, she just seems absent. It’s almost as if she’s floating through life in her own mind. Perceptive she may be when she focuses, but not when she’s day dreaming or has little to focus on. The petrol gauge is something I class as being important to focus on, but for a seventeen year old girl with boy troubles, work and studies, along with following the latest trend, I suppose the petrol gauge isn’t at the forefront of her mind.
I grab a bite to eat and do my food shopping, as I was planning to do before I found my student asleep on her bonnet with her hazard lights flashing. At least I’m not stuck in my own mind anymore. I’m grateful for that. I actually feel like going home and resting now. It doesn’t seem so boring and daunting any longer. Maybe I’ll write for a while. It has been some time since I put pen to paper and enjoyed the flow of words escaping my mind through the tip of my ballpoint.
My phone alerts me to a text. It’s from my dad. He’s letting me know that mum is feeling a lot better and will be discharged in the morning if she has a good night tonight. Thank fuck for that. Hopefully now I shall sleep better.
Eloise
“Maybe if you were home a little more often, I wouldn’t feel so fucking lonely and I wouldn’t feel the need to spend my time away from home!” My mother screeches, her voice carrying all the way from her bedroom, which isn’t what I’d call a short distance away.
“Your daughter sees less and less of you every single day!” My dad argues, his voice just as loud and just as angry.
I sigh and place the last piece of toast into my mouth. I wait for it and I don’t have to wait long. Something shatters against the wall before my mum’s high pitched screech only gets higher. “What about you? She sees less and less of you too! Why is this all on me?”
“I’m working. I’m not partying or getting my damn nails done!”
This is tiring. I can only imagine how they feel.
I place my plate in the sink and wash my hands before finally leaving the house at the sound of Hayley’s high pitched laughter coming down my driveway.
She looks cute in an oversized jumper that meets her thighs and thick wool tights. Her laughter is in response to whatever is being said on the phone pressed to her ear. She holds up her finger to me, still smiling at whatever is being said.
I roll my eyes and move past her, knowing that she’ll follow without bothering to disconnect the call.
As she chatters to a mutual friend on the phone, I allow my mind to zone out for a while, taking advantage of the wireless headset that doubles as a speaker for my music.
“She’s probably working,” Hayley announces, both to me and to the person on the phone. I nod in response as I am in fact working tonight. She continues, “I know right? She’s always working.”
It’s either work or spiral back into whatever the hell kind of trouble I was getting myself into before. When I work I’m focused and too tired to get bored and want to drink. I like keeping myself busy.
When we arrive at the busy school, I follow Hayley down the hall, my feet practically dragging along the smooth flooring. I use my fringe to shadow my eyes, a way to avoid eye contact with people, which will hopefully dissuade them from approaching me. It’s not that I don’t like them or anything. It’s more because I’m just not in the mood for friendly chitchat so early in the morning.
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br /> I instantly move to my seat upon entering the class where I’ll be learning History for the next two hours. My arms fold on the desk and I automatically plant my face into the centre. A silent yawn rips up through my chest and only relaxes my body further. I could easily sleep right here, though I’m unsure why I feel so tired. I wasn’t restless last night. I got at least nine hours of solid rest.
It’s probably hormones.
The class fills around me, but I don’t bother lifting my head yet. Mr Price has yet to arrive. I know this due to the loud animated chatter coming from my peers.
I have to admit that the second Mr Price walks into a room, he certainly commands attention. Even my head whips up at the sound of his footsteps crossing the threshold. He clears his throat so the few that didn’t notice his arrival all take their seats and take out their books and pens.
“What is up with you today?” Hayley hisses as I focus on Mr Price’s back. He’s telling us to do something and is clearly writing something on the large white board, I just don’t know what.
I shake my head, attempting to clear the sleepy fog that has settled between my ears and behind my eyes. “Tired.” To prove my response, I yawn again involuntarily. “Maybe I’m coming down with something.”
“You’re not pregnant are you? Because when my mum was pregnant, she was totally tired all of the time,” Hayley mutters, her eyes as wide as saucers.
“I don’t have a sex life, Hayley. How the hell could I be pregnant?” I whisper as my eyes scan the room for unwanted listeners.
She thinks on it for a moment, her pen tapping against the table. “Good point. Dehydrated?”
This is a possibility. “I’ll get a drink at break. Can we just do this now please?”
“Only if you agree to come to Hopper’s with me tonight.”
Blink. “That loser’s? No freakin’ way.”
“Please? It’ll be fun, you’ll see!”
“I’m working. As you already know.”
