You Never Know

• Brooke Wilson, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2009

No.
No, this couldn’t be happening.

I straightened out from my crouch. I didn’t want to hear any more; I’d already heard enough. With a groan, I stretched out the stiff kink in my back. The voices beside the window faltered for a moment and I heard footsteps approaching. Conner stuck his head out the window. Why was he still here? I thought, he should have been gone hours ago.
He looked confused. “What are you doing?” he asked.
I blushed and started to stumble away, but Conner was too fast. He was out the door and had his arms around my waist in a matter of seconds.
“I’m so sorry,” he said.
His words reminded me of what I’d just heard mum say, almost inaudible through her sobs. Her words ran through my head like an echo. Her dad’s not coming back any more. He’s with someone else. Leighla will be heartbroken. Wrong, I wasn’t heartbroken. No, now I was just livid.
I put on a brave face, though I was close to tears and patted Conner’s blond hair. “It’s okay,” I said. I gently pulled away from him and ran down the path to the beach.
It was late afternoon and the sun was setting over the water. It’s light danced across the water like satin. So beautiful. The local yachts were back for the night, moored at the old jetty and they bobbed gently in the swells. Seagulls shrieked incessantly as they fought for the remnants of their last meal. A low wind was whistling through the trees and tugged my hair into knots.
By now, I was fighting tears. Wet moisture clung to my lashes. I wiped them away angrily as I stumbled blindly across the sand. I brushed away the last of the tears and looked up.
He was there. Of course he was. He always was. Finn gazed at me expectantly. I forced a smile and moved to his side. He rested his head on my hand. I stroked his wet, grey side, inhaling the fishy scent. Finn’s dark eyes followed my awed gaze and he twitched excitedly when my hand moved to stroke his back. His long bottle nose poked into my side. I giggled. The sound felt wrong. Too happy, carefree for the current situation. The smile slid from my face.
I leaned against Finn, not wanting to end this precious moment together. We only had a mere amount of time together anyway. Tears leaked from my eyes again. I let them fall, and they landed on Finn’s back. Each time, his skin rippled.
Behind me, a door slammed. Finn jerked away from me, darting back into the deeper water. I slowly stood. The sand slid around from under my feet. Finn’s eyes watched me from the safety of the water; accusation and betrayal clear in them.
“Leighla!”
I turned away reluctantly. Conner was running towards me, a silver phone in one hand.
“Leighla,” he called, “Leighla, it’s your dad!”