Page 7 of The Absence of You
“Wait up.” A girl’s voice calls after me. I don’t bother turning towards her but just mutter under my breath.
“Piss off.” But she fails to take the hint, and the footsteps get closer. I turn to look at the girl who is now walking alongside me. She’s struggling to keep up, probably because her legs are shorter than mine. She’s tiny, in fact. I don’t recognise her from the group of girls who’d been teasing me, and I know you shouldn’t judge by appearance, but she doesn’t give off the same mean girl vibe. I take pity on her and slow my pace, stopping under the overhang of a large tree. It’s still raining, but the tree is large and dense enough to keep the rain off us.
“Are you okay?” Now that the girl is standing in front of me, I properly take her in. She has beautiful silky, jet-black hair. It is poker straight and falls just below her chin. Her bangs are long, framing her dark eyes. Silver studs are stacked in her ear lobes and her eyes are lined with dark eyeliner. Her skin is porcelain white and a stark contrast to the small tattoo I can see poking out of her sleeve on the inside of her wrist as she holds the strap of her bag. I can’t make out the details without staring, but it looks like something written in italic script. My silence doesn’t discourage her. “I’m Callie Messina.” She has the barest hint of a European accent. Italian or French maybe. Callie is, in a word, stunning.
She catches my eye, and the corner of her mouth tips upwards into a sympathetic smile. “Sorry they did that. Meghan and the rest of those girls think they run the place, they like to haze anyone new.” I might've known it was the same girl from the toilets yesterday. Callie hesitates, “I’m not sure if you’re aware, but the school fees include the catering? I mean, you can bring your own food in, but hardly anyone does. There’s no point when you can get sandwiches and stuff made for you...” Her words trail off. No wonder they picked on me sitting there unpacking my sandwich.
“Thanks. You’ve probably just saved me from another day of ridicule.” I sit on a bench under the tree, and Callie sits next to me. “I’m Dahlia, by the way.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Dahlia. We have English Lit together.”
“Oh, sorry. The last couple of days have been a blur while I’ve been trying to find my feet. What other subjects are you studying?” Callie tells me she’s also studying History, Italian and Art.
“Wow, four subjects. That’s a lot.” My eyes widen at the thought of the extra study involved.
“It’s not as impressive as it sounds. My family are Italian, so I grew up speaking it. It’s a freebie lesson for me. But we don’t speak it at home anymore. Not since my mother died. I took the A-level, so I didn’t lose the skill.” I’m even more impressed. It must remind her of her mum every time she’s in a lesson, and that can’t be easy.
“I’m sorry about your mum. Did she pass recently?” I hope I’m not touching a nerve with the question, but she brought it up, so hopefully she won’t mind me asking.
“It was a couple of years ago.” She doesn’t seem too upset, but she doesn’t elaborate, so I steer the conversation back to school.
“What do you plan to study at University?”
“I’d love to study Art, but I’m not sure what careers it would lead to.” She shrugs. “And you? What else are you studying other than English?”
“Media studies and Psychology. I’m undecided about Uni too. I’ve not thought too far into the future.” Until recently, I’d always thought I’d likely have to get a job straight from school. It’s the reason I haven’t allowed myself the luxury of getting too attached to a dream career or to planning to do a job where a degree would be needed. University applications are due in January, so I will need to make my mind up soon.
Callie and I chat for the rest of the lunch break until the bell for afternoon classes rings. We swap numbers, and she offers to walk into the village with me after school the next day to help me job hunt.
The next afternoon, as promised, Callie meets me at the entrance to school, and we make the brief journey into the village. The village has hardly changed at all since I was last here. There is a small row of shops including a bookshop, a post office, a newsagent, and a pub. The old diner, Lolly’s, is still on the corner. I made a few copies of my resume last night. So we start at one end of the village, and I pass each shop a copy. None of them are hiring at the moment but promise to keep hold of my resume for any future opportunities. The only shop left is the bookstore at the end, but it’s closed, so I write out a quick note asking if they can contact me if any roles come up and push it through the letterbox.
Job hunting turns out to be thirsty work, so I offer to buy Callie a drink, and we head into Lolly’s. We grab a booth and study the menu. The milkshakes are more expensive than I thought they’d be, so I pick a juice for myself. I know I have enough money in my purse as Dee insisted I take some cash in case I needed it for the bus or anything, but I’m conscious I can’t be frivolous.
Callie must sense my apprehension as she says, “This is my treat.”
“Oh no Callie, that’s a lovely offer, but it’s fine honestly. I want to treat you as a thank you for coming into the village with me.”
“I insist. You can get them next time. Seriously, my allowance is very generous, I never spend it all.” She looks almost embarrassed to admit it. “Let’s order big, supersize milkshakes with extra toppings.” She enthusiastically runs through the flavours and I relent, promising myself I’ll repay her as soon as I get a job and my first paycheque.
The waitress comes over and takes our order. This place hasn’t changed much since I was last here. The same red and white striped booths, the same fifties style uniforms and pictures on the wall. While I’m here, I decide I’ll ask if they have any waitressing jobs going, so I slip out of the booth and walk to the counter to ask for the manager. The waitress goes into the back for a few minutes and an older lady comes out. I recognise her instantly as the owner, Lauren. She’s a bubbly woman who has owned the place for as long as I can remember. Her dark hair now has salt and pepper grey flecks, but other than that, she hasn't aged at all. I’m sure she won’t remember me, so I hold my hand out to shake hers and introduce myself,
“Hi, I’m Dahlia. I just moved to the area and I’m looking for…”
“Dahlia! Goodness me, I’d recognise that smile anywhere. Come and give your old friend a hug.” She pulls me into a tight embrace, and all thoughts of asking for a job are quickly forgotten.
“I didn’t think you’d remember me. How have you been?”
“I’m good, girlie, and of course I remember you. Your grandmother still comes in here every Friday morning for breakfast. She told me you were coming back, so I’ve been waiting for you to show your face!” She insists on giving Callie and I our drinks on the house along with a plate of pancakes to share, and even comes and sits with us for a while.
Chapter Seven
DAHLIA
The next morning I wake up to find a message on my phone from the owner of the bookshop asking if I can come in on Saturday for an interview. I can’t believe it. I shoot a quick text back, accepting, and rush to tell Dee the good news. She’s still in bed, so I get dressed and head to school.
My first lesson is a free period, and although we can be off campus when we have free lessons, I don’t have a computer at Dee’s, so I head into school to use one in the library. Expecting to see it fairly empty, I’m surprised to find quite a few students already here. Still, there are plenty of computers available, so I pick one and start on my research for my latest media studies assignment.
The next hour goes by quickly and, happy with my research, I’m ready to move on to drafting the outline. There’s an empty table in the corner, so I move my stuff over and start working.
