Page 15 of Walk With Me
If I choose sneakers, it might look like I’mactuallymaking an effort with this whole walking thing Sloane is so pumped about, and that could leadherto think I really want to do it. Which I don’t. But then again, I also don’t want her to think I’m not appreciative of the fact she’s wangled me out of gym next semester.
A brisk walk to school isn’t so bad. I could definitely wear my boots without the risk of getting a blister. However, if I don’t wear my sneakers in, I will get sore feet whenit comes time to…oh god, I can’t believe I’m about to say it. When the time comes for me to…run.
I think I just threw up in my mouth.
Maybe I should see how this morning’s walk to school goes and judge it from there. Okay, decision made. Boots it is.
Shoving on my Docs, I check myself out in the mirror. Nothing out of the ordinary. Favourite Red Hot Chili Peppers band t-shirt artfully ripped in several places. Black skinny jeans faded slightly at the knees. Today seems like a plain ruby red hoodie kind of day. My hair is a mess, just how I like it, and my eye makeup looks like it’s already been on my face for twenty-four hours. Perfect.
My alarm rings. Ten minutes until Sloane arrives.
At my house.
I still can’t believe it.
Senior year is kicking arse so far. Minus Mr Porter, that is.
Mum has my usual scrambled eggs ready with buttered toast. Yes, I’m a vegetarian who eats eggs. I can’t quite go full vegan yet.
“Morning, love.”
I head over and give Mum a kiss on the cheek. She’s wearing one of Dad’s huge band t-shirts. It’s no mysterywhere I get my sense of style and musical taste from. Both parents are rockers in the privacy of our home. At work, they both have to be a little more upstanding. Or boring, as I like to see it.
Dad is a banker, and Mum is a lawyer. They make decent money, but nothing like Pia or Sloane’s parents. They also expect me to work for what I want. The car I drive is the result of working over the summer as Mum’s receptionist. It was soul-sucking work but worth it in the end. Plus, I got to hang out with Mum more. Her boss was cool, too. He wasn’t all that bothered about me dressing in my regular clothes. We got chatting about art, and that made everything better. Oh, and I got to avoid Lucifer, aka Jenna, my sister. That was probably the biggest draw of the whole experience.
Jenna seriously makes me question having kids.
Back to my parents. They both know I never intend to follow in their footsteps. Corporate anything makes my skin itch. Plus, my grandma would legit throw a fit. She’s my mentor and inspiration where art is concerned. My school holidays and summer vacations were always spent at my grandparents’ house growing up. Gran is an extremely talented painter, sculptor, and glass blower. She has an amazing studio at the back of her house that my grandadbuilt for her in the late 60s. It’s my dream house. I just need to find a version of it over here, and by the ocean.
Leaving them was awful, but they visit every year. Grandad likes to give me updates on the VW. It’s going to be a complete rust bucket by the time I get around to using it, if I ever do. It’s not like I want to import it to the States, and now I’ve lived here for a while I don’t intend to move back to the UK, so it should probably be sold. Gran spends the entire visit by the pool with a cocktail, listening to music and looking through my pieces. I can’t wait until they come over again.
“Dad already gone?”
“Of course. But he said he’ll be home early to attend Jenna’s parent-teacher evening.”
“Ugh, good luck with that!” I’d rather gargle testicles than suffer through their evening.
“Not planning on showing some sisterly support, then.” Mum laughs.
“I’m showing sisterly support by not murdering her. She had a complete meltdown last night because I walked past the TV. According to Lucifer, I made her miss something vitally important.”
Mum snorts. “Will you stop calling her that!”
“If the horns fit,” I reply. My eggs are getting cold, and Slone will be here in minutes. “So, listen,” I say, shovelling my breakfast in my mouth. When I finally swallow, Mum is giving me her undivided attention and a grimace due to my pig-style eating. “Sloane is coming by and we’re walking to school.”
Mum is mightily impressed I’m doing the Couch to 5k with her. Dad looked concerned, but I assured him I was fine, and Lucifer—sorry, Jenna—scoffed and made a rude comment.
“I’m looking forward to meeting her.”
I nod. “Sure, sure. But could you like, be chill? I’m enough of a prat around her for the both of us. I’d like the morning to start off with as little embarrassment as possible.”
The doorbell chimes, and Mum whips me with a tea towel as she walks past towards the door. “I’m the chillest mum, and you know it.”
She is, that’s fair.
A cold draught snakes up the back of my hoodie as Mum opens the door and greets Sloane. They spend a few seconds conversing before I hear footsteps approach. I do a quick swipe of my face to make sure there’s no rogue egg stuck to my chin or something.
“Eden, Sloane’s here.”
