Chapter Ten

The day that my father left and never returned had been the worst day of my life.

Waking up the morning after he'd promised to return felt like a fever dream. My mother had filed several missing person reports, but given the area that I grew up in, little or nothing was done to help her. Everyone in my childhood neighbourhood knew the kind of man that my father was - or at least the man that they thought he was. A deadbeat.

The truth was: nobody knew my father as I had.

At least that's what I had hoped, but the day that he left me, I was left thinking. Was he really the man that I thought he was?

I had isolated myself after that. Despite how much I had known that my mother needed me during that period in our lives, I couldn't face her.

"Was it because of the divorce?" I heard my mother's voice on the phone with my Aunt. She sounded helpless. "Was I too harsh on him? Now, what? I raise Beth on my own?"

Nobody knew where he had gone.

My mother hadn't been in contact with any of his old pals, so she didn't know the first place to look. Their marriage was a recipe for disaster anyway. They had both wanted different things out of their lives.

The world around me had crumbled, and part of me left when I realised that my father was truly gone. My relationship with my mother worsened as she was left broken and frustrated. Still, she wasn't as hurt as I was. Nobody was.

How could my daddy leave me?

I was seventeen, but my inner seven-year-old ached and wailed. Did my father think that he had seen enough? Seventeen years of my life, and maybe he had felt that his job was finished. 

I hadn't known any pain like that before. I couldn't fully comprehend grief until he left me. When he left, he gave me a taste of how cruel the world could be - and how horribly damaging life was. 

While he was with me, he had painted my palaces of dreams. I hadn't built those for myself - and I couldn't finish them on my own. My palaces were unfinished, and the paint was peeling off. It was peeling off to reveal all the mixtures of brown and grey cement that I had tried to ignore.

Worst of all, my father had taken the paintbrush with him.

I couldn't do it on my own.

I was seventeen, standing on a crumbled foundation.

And I was alone.

***

Erika left us the next day.

Everything felt as if the apartment complex had turned itself inside out. My mind lulled over the first few thoughts that entered it that morning. I thought about where we would go from here or what I would do. As I wondered about Erika and Oliver, a new feeling arose in me - anger.

I glared at the oatmeal in front of me, turning the milk over and over with my spoon. It was still a bit hot as steam floated up from the bowl and tickled my nose.

Things couldn't possibly go back to being the way they had been before. It couldn't, not after the fight that Brooke had caused and not now that there was one less of us girls. We were a trio. Brooke and Nadia were already so close - partners in crime and in gossip - leaving only me.

Again.

Plus, I wasn't sure where our relationship stood, given that I had supported Erika in her decision to go.

Odin plopped into the stool across from me.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

I answered coldly, without looking up at him, "Just fine."

I folded the oats over a few times until most of the steam leaving the bowl diminished.

"You sure? Are you missing Erika?"

"I said I'm fine!" I replied sternly, and my eyes finally met his.

The corners of his mouth turned down into a slight frown, and he took a bite of his toast. I cleared my throat a bit, then took up a few clumps of oatmeal and dropped it back into the bowl again.

Odin leaned forward and whispered, "You wanna leave here, don't you?"

I stared at his soft, hesitant eyes and let go of my spoon.

I shook my head and sighed, "No, Odin, I..."

I played aimlessly with my fingers as I searched for the right words. 

"It's okay," Odin said gently, "You don't have to explain."

"Yes!" I blurted out with a shrug, "Of course I wanna leave. Everything's a mess!"

His eyes widened. Something rumbled inside of me. But no, not again. I thought. I expected Odin to begin to panic - to tell me all the delightful reasons I had to stay. He'd be one of them. Instead, Odin just nodded.

"Time and chance," he said, more to himself than to me, "...Before anything crazy happens, let me take you somewhere."

I raised an eyebrow, "Where?"

"It's a surprise. We'll go tonight, around midnight."

I squinted at him, and he began to chuckle.

"What do you think of me?" He folded his arms on the counter, "You think I'm weird?"

"What? Never." I shook my head.

Odin laughed again, and his crooked smile filled me with joy.

"Hey. I'm not going anywhere," I reassured Odin, but he gave me an unbelieving look.

Behind me, the door opened and slammed shut. 

Brooke sauntered inside casually as if she hadn't ruined everything the day before. She opened the fridge, took out a carton of orange juice, and stood on her tiptoes to reach the jam.

Conversation between Odin and I ceased, and the anger that had first filled me that morning came over me again. I suddenly realised who I was upset with.

Brooke piled a couple of items onto the counter that Odin and I sat at, not saying a word.

"Cleaning the fridge?" I asked her idly.

Odin's eyes slowly rose to mine, but he said nothing.

"I am. You know, Lizzie, I have to ask you..." she turned around, and I noticed she was chewing gum, "How does it feel for you, now Erika's gone?"

Brooke adjusted her camisole and gave me a daring look.

I pulled my eyebrows together, "Well... I miss her - I'm not sure why -"

"Well, you're the reason she's gone. I'm pretty sure." Brooke dropped a beer can onto the counter.

"I'm not."

"You encouraged her, didn't you?" She propped her elbow onto the counter and nestled her head in the heel of her hand.

Odin stepped in, "Brooke, leave her alone. She had nothing to do with this." 

"Stay out of this, bucko," she dismissed him and turned back to me, "Why'd you do it?"

I glanced between Brooke and Odin as my heartbeat quickened. I held onto the edge of the counter, thinking of what I should say next. I was used to fighting with my half-sister, Catherine, but Brooke was someone different.

"You clearly didn't care about her!" I spat, "What kinda friend doesn't want another friend to follow her heart?"

"Follow her -" Brooke scoffed, "This is unbelievable!" She straightened up and let out a huff.

"But it's true!" I raised my voice, "Erika confided in me what she was too afraid to tell you!"

"Yeah, right. You know how long I've known that girl?"

I took a deep breath, then folded my lips into a line. I had tried my best to sympathise with Brooke. She was hurt, confused, and missing her friend - but the way she glared at me awakened another suspicion.

"You're just jealous." I told her, "Jealous that Erika's got Oliver."

Her eyes went wild, "I've got Jacques! What are you even trying to say?"

"And Jacques is perfect, right?" I rolled my eyes.

Odin whistled and rapped his fingers onto the counter.

I had taken it a step too far. No one was perfect, not even Oliver, I was sure.

I looked at her again, "What I mean is... Erika knew what she wanted, found it, and did what she had to do. Can't you understand that?"

Brooke shook her leg back and forth. She turned her back to me and continued to unload the fridge.

"At least I'm not Anders' little toy." Brooke retorted.

I opened my mouth in a flash of anger, but Odin beat me to it.

"Why the hell would you say that?" He whipped his head around, shouting at his sister.

My heart dropped, and my hands began to shake.

"So it is true." She sighed, "I'd look out if -"

"You can't use that against me!" I screamed, on the verge of tears, "You have no idea how much I regret -"

"Who told you that?" Odin interrupted me, his leg bouncing irritably.

"Anders told all of us. Lizzie basically begged him to be with her."

Brooke held up her hands and made an exaggerated panting sound.

"That's not true," I said defeatedly.

Brooke shrugged, "Big deal."

Odin glimpsed at me. At that moment, a tear rolled down my face.

"You should be ashamed of yourself, Brooke!" He yelled at her, "And you wonder why I'd rather avoid you!"

"Don't take her side on this! She should've -"

"No, Brooklyn! Everyone makes mistakes. You, of all, should know that!" His voice quaked with frustration, and he was on the edge of his seat.

Brooke pressed her tongue against the inside of her cheek. She let out an annoyed sound and then stormed out of the apartment. Odin stared at the door after she left and then shook his head.

I sat with my hand clasped over my mouth, stifling my cries. Tears rolled down my cheeks and over my palm, leaving a wet trail. I closed my eyes.

I regretted it so much.

Odin took my free hand in his and squeezed it.

"Listen," he said, "It's alright. I'll figure something out."

He covered the top of my palm with his other hand, and his warm fingers petted my wrist. I opened my eyes eventually and dragged the sleeves of my top against my cheeks.

When I glanced down at my oatmeal, I noticed that it had turned stiff and cold.

***

I sat in the bedroom, munching away at a sandwich. I had taken my things out of the drawers and stuffed them back into my bag. I had received a text from my mother, surprisingly. It had read: Rolling stones gather no moss. When Odin entered the room, I froze.

"Before I surprise you later tonight... I got something for you."

He brought his hand out from behind his back and gave me a small box.

My face lit up, and I cooed, "You didn't have to."

He smiled, "No, really, I think you'll like it."

I snatched the box out of his hand and popped off the lid.

"Oh no," I blushed, "This is so beautiful."

Inside was a glossy, gold keychain in the shape of a small rectangle. I picked it up to peer at it more closely and noticed the few words engraved in the back.

I laughed shortly, "No way."

"Like it?" He asked shyly.

I shrugged, "You know me so well."

The small words at the back were:

To the one searching for Home.

***

At midnight, on the dot, Odin and I were on the road. For this trip, I slipped on my denim jacket and blue jeans - the same jeans where I kept the photo of my parents.

Something about that night felt special.

I was wearing the same outfit I had arrived in but in a totally different state of mind. Odin had been boasting about this place since the day we'd met. It was nice to get away again from all the tension residing in the apartment.

Odin drove a rented convertible, painted an awkward orange, the same colour of the sun when it's about to set. I took that as a sign. It was the colour of a chapter of my life that was about to close. I sat in the passenger's seat as my hair blew in the cold wind. The air prickled my skin as I looked over to Odin. I hoped that the sun wouldn't set for the two of us. 

The sky draped over us was starless - the bright moon was the centre of attention - and we drove past stretches of land and traffic lights.

"Since you love music, you'll love it here," Odin told me as he made a sharp turn and sped down a short road.

"How much longer?" I perched up, trying to see as far down the street as the dim streetlights would allow me.

He slowed down in front of a parking lot. Beside the lot was a small hostel painted in a depressing green.

"We're here." He said as he parked the car.

Odin ran out of the lot, pulling me behind him. As we got closer to the hostel, I noticed a flight of stairs to the right of it. It lead downwards, like at a subway station.

I hesitated at first. Odin skipped down the stairs excitedly, and his eagerness made me curious - and impatient - too. I made my way down the stairs, and when I got to the bottom, there was a wooden door to my right and a single, yellow lamp above it.

Odin pressed his ear against the door.

"Come listen to this," he motioned to me.

I followed him, and through the door, I heard...

"Music." My mouth twisted into a smile, finally matching the expression on Odin's face.

And a chorus of voices to accompany it.

He guided me away from the door, pounded on it three times, and then it swung open.

My mouth dropped open, and my feet remained planted on the ground. Odin laughed and carried me inside.

There was a dimly lit room crowded with persons. Multiple tables and chairs were set up across the floor, and a large bar stood proudly on the far right. At the front centre of the room was a small stage with a microphone and a few instruments set up. Above the stage was a sign lit up with the words: Show night.

Odin brought me over to an empty table in the middle of the room. To the left of us was a wooden partition, and cigar smoke rose high in the air.

"What'd you like?" A woman with glamorous hair and makeup approached Odin and me. She was holding a large platter of finger foods.

"Ooh..." Odin stood and surveyed the food, "No wedges tonight, Audrey?"

"All out of potatoes," she dragged her words.

"Damn. We'll have these." Odin piled the table with various things - pickles, chicken nuggets, meatballs, and the like.

Then he reached into the back pocket of his black jeans and handed Audrey a couple bills.

Her blue eyes lit up, and her bored tone quickly diminished, "God, aren't I lucky today! You're too sweet, Odin."

After she moved away, I raised my eyebrows at him.

"The food's free on show nights," he leaned into me, "But she's here on her feet, so I thought to tip her."

"I see." I paused, "Odin, how'd you find this place?"

"I know where all the good places are," he stabbed a chicken nugget with a toothpick, "It's one of my many talents."

Minutes later, when Odin and I were finished arguing over whether or not 'show night' was one word or two, a hefty guy appeared on stage. The crowd erupted into cheers.

"Whoo! Let's go, Dylan!" Odin cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled above the crowd.

What followed was something I had never expected. As Dylan and his bandmate began their melody, the entire room joined in, singing to the top of their lungs. I even noticed Audrey standing at the bar singing to her heart's content. Odin shot his fists in the air avidly. Each rift and chord of the guy's guitar sounded through the room and echoed off the walls.

By midway through the performance, I was on my feet dancing with Audrey. Odin was jumping on the table, in time with the music. The energy in that room was something stranger than I had ever known before. Whether it was intoxication or rage that everyone there felt, it worked, and it was given life the moment a song came on.

My skin gleamed with some light sweat. I screamed lyrics I had just learnt and made up the rules as I went on. I danced although I couldn't, and no one judged me or told me I didn't belong. Even Audrey totally lost herself, and she and I knew nothing about each other.

All of that didn't seem to matter as we spun each other around and cackled whenever one of us went crashing into the nearby chairs.

After two encores, the song came to an end. Dylan and his bandmate bowed with proud smiles on their faces. People cheered for them while I clapped as loudly as I could because my voice was nearly gone.

"Thanks for the dance!" Audrey rubbed her shoulder against mine before swiftly returning to her post.

I looked at Odin, sprawled out on the table.

"Music really does something to you," I tapped his knee.

"Oh hell yeah, it does. But you're the same as me, correct?" He opened an eye.

I beamed, "Correct."

"The last performance will be more sobering, you know?" He lifted his arm lazily.

"Okay, gotcha." I chuckled, my voice croaking slightly.

Thirty minutes slipped by before the final act was called on stage.

"You'll see the guy who helps me out with my chords," Odin dragged his palms against his thighs and stood, "Anyway, wish me luck."

I almost choked on the water I was sipping.

"What?" I exclaimed.

I watched as Odin's back moved away from me and headed toward the stage. He hadn't told me that he was performing, and I barely had a voice left to cheer him on.

He got on top of the stage, adjusted the mic to his height, and then tapped it. When he still wasn't sure if the mic was on, he spoke into it instead.

"Hey, Lizzie," he waved at me.

I became as red as a tomato as everyone in front of the room turned around. I slapped my palms to my cheeks, then looked behind me, searching for whoever Lizzie was.

He laughed into the mic, "Just testing."

After a second, Odin began to sing 'Ophelia' acapella style. His singing voice was higher than when he spoke, and it broke every now and then, which gave it a unique charm.

Soon, the room was clapping along to help him stay on beat, and others were swaying their cigars in time with the music.

Odin tapped his thigh, and when he opened his eyes, they fell on me, and he laughed again. I blew him a kiss and started swaying my arms like the people around me.

"Let's welcome Dave!" Odin announced when he finished the first verse.

A man dressed in leather walked onto the stage, and people applauded him. His brown hair teased the base of his neck, and his brown eyes skimmed the crowd.

I dropped everything that I had. My heart leapt out of my chest. A flash of adrenaline surged through my spine, and I jumped to my feet.

There was no way - it couldn't possibly be.

As he shifted his hair, it all registered.

Dave. The man accompanying Odin on guitar was... my father?

I suddenly collapsed onto the floor.

I clutched onto the denim jacket that my father had given me at seventeen as tightly as I could have. Fear, hope, relief, and excitement overwhelmed me all at once.

"Elizabeth?"

I heard him call out to me from the stage. His hand shook as he held a microphone and squinted into the crowd.

I started to bawl, forgetting about everything that was happening around me.

Numerous persons surrounded me, and Odin stopped singing. I didn't look up at the stage. I couldn't breathe.

My entire body trembled.

And I couldn't move.

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