Score: Matilda - Harry Styles

Lydia

In what feels like hours but is actually seconds after Patrick left my room, Gloria and Alex rush in, faces pale and eyes wide. I am still standing by the desk, my hands clasped around my throat, breathing heavily and out of rhythm.

Alex rushes up to me and wraps her arms around my shoulders.

"What the fuck was that?" Gloria asks.

Alex walks me to the bed and gently pushes me to sit down. I am still shocked by Patrick's blow-up. He's never hurt me physically before, and he's always been so polished and courteous, saying and doing the right thing. I never expected him to act as he did. It hurts even more because I know I hurt him and a part of me is questioning whether or not I deserved him treating me that way.

I shake my head, trying to chase the absurd thought away.

Get it together, Lydia!

"Are you OK, Lyds?" Alex asks me, gently pushing my hair away from my face. Her gaze falls on my throat and her eyes flash with anger.

"Did that fucker do this to you?" She asks, her hand gently rubbing the side of my throat. I wince at her touch, remembering Patrick's rough grip from merely minutes ago. I get up to my feet and walk to the dresser opposite the bed, and check myself out in the mirror. A perfect print of Patrick's fingers around my throat is branded crimson on my skin.

"Lydia, please, talk to us!" Gloria says, wrapping her arms around her waist.

I go back to the bed and sit down, gripping my head between my hands. A lump is stuck in my throat. I want to talk to Alex and Gloria about what happened, I really do, but, at the same time, the poison in my chest, a mixture of shame, and guilt, and...and even more shame at the relief that Patrick's gone is holding me back.

"Lyds, we are your best mates," Alex says gently. "We were really worried when you bolted last night. And we are really worried now. You can tell us anything, you know that, right?"

I take a deep breath, still feeling my throat a little rough, and exhale deeply.

"I slept with Mark," I say in the end.

"Well, I figured that much myself," Alex says, at the same time as Gloria blurts out:

"You what!?"

Gloria gapes, moving her eyes from Alex to me and then back to Alex.

"You knew about that?" She asks, looking at Alex, accusation and annoyance in her voice. Alex doesn't reply. An awkward silence falls in the room, as the three of us share shy glances.

"For how long has this been going on?" Gloria asks finally.

"We kissed the night we took your mum to the hospital." I decide to spill everything.

"What? And you kept this from me!? I am supposed to be Mark and your best friend, you fucking cunts!" Gloria throws her arms in the air.

"Glo, please, this isn't about you..." Alex says softly. Gloria scoffs but doesn't say anything.

"I know I fucked up..." I continue. "Last night I called him to come pick me up from prom. We went to his house, and, it just happened..."

"What do you mean, it just happened. These things don't just happen." Gloria fumes.

"I know...It's just...It felt so right. It felt like the right thing to do, even though I know it was wrong. I can't explain it." I sigh. "I couldn't get myself to talk to Patrick this entire time. I should have done it a long time ago. I should have told you, as well. Now, it's obviously too late..."

"How long have you known?" Gloria turns to Alex. Alex rolls her eyes and puffs out a loud breath.

A gentle knock on the door interrupts our conversation.

The door creaks open and Colin appears in the doorway. I suddenly feel on edge.

"Girls, can I please speak with my daughter", he says, his eyes flicking between Alex and Gloria. He doesn't look at me. "Alone."

Gloria and Alex look at me, the question clear in their eyes.

I give them a short nod.

"Go, please. I don't need babysitting. I'm here now, I'll be fine. Go home and stop worrying about me."

"Are you sure?" Alex asks me, trying to catch my eye.

"Yes, I'm sure. I'll call you later."

"OK. Tell me if I need to come pick you up. Mum and I are leaving tomorrow, but you can stay in the flat as long as you like." Alex says, glaring at Colin. I told her I fought with him, when I practically moved in with her and her mum, without getting into too much detail. However, her hostility towards Colin is palpable in the air.

"Sure, thanks. I won't be staying at your place if you aren't there, though." I smile. Alex and her mum are going on a summer vacation trip to Italy for two weeks on Sunday, so I would have to take my stuff and move back here, anyway, I guess.

Just a month or so more. A voice in my head says, even though going away for uni is not granted anymore. However, it is only human to hope, right? Until the results are out, nothing is certain. 

I smile at the thought. This newly-discovered hope within me is something unusual, especially after the nasty scene that just played out with Patrick. 

I'm used to expecting the worst so that I don't get hurt in the end. I was kind of expecting that Patrick would blow out, not to the extent he did, though, but I was expecting a reaction from him, and he over-delivered.

But, now, somehow, I feel strangely hopeful. Relieved. And hopeful. For the summer, for the near future...Even for going to uni.

A seed of hope has been planted in my chest and is just starting to sprout, and I can't help but think that Mark has something to do with that.

Gloria and Alex exit the room, closing the door behind them, leaving me alone with Colin.

He clears his throat and walks toward the bed. I don't raise my eyes to look at him. The mattress beside me sinks, as he takes a seat on the bed next to me.

"You alright, Lyds?" He says softly.

I nod my head. He reaches with his hand and pushes the hair out of my face, letting it fall over my back. I wince, as his hand touches the skin, where Patrick's grip is still burning. He rubs gently, soothing the pain.

For the first time in as long as I can remember, I feel the urge to reach out for him, bury my face in his chest, and cry. For the first time in my life, I feel like a little girl, who needs her father. I need him to be there, I need him to protect me. And, for once, he's acting like a father.

"Your car's out of the shop." He says. He's obviously feeling weird, not knowing what to say.

"John's gone to pick it up. He should be here soon."

I nod again.

"Are you happy about it?"

Another nod. Though, I do it just to please him. I couldn't care less about the stupid car.

"Patrick left." Colin finally addresses the elephant in the room. I can't quite catch the emotion in his voice.

"I know," I whisper.

"What happened?" He asks gently.

"We had a fight," I say, not willing to get into the nasty details.

"Did he do that?" He asks. I don't have to ask him what he means. I nod.

Silence settles in the room. Colin's hand is still gently massaging the skin on my throat and neck. I feel like the icy fist around my heart is loosening its grip.

"Do you want to tell me why?" He says, in the end.

I shake my head. "Not really."

"Alright, then." He says.

I sit still, actually savoring his caress. I feel like I haven't had a parent to lean on for so long, it hurts. Even though I put on a brave face and a smart mouth, I've missed my mum since she left and I have never really had a relationship with my father. And even though I don't like acting like it, I sometimes want to be just a normal eighteen-year-old and be able to talk to my parents about what's happening in my life. Like, today.

Another heartbeat passes before Colin speaks again.

"You'll figure it out, I'm sure. Patrick's a nice guy. I'm sure he's sorry..."

My stomach turns.

I'm going to be sick...

I jump to my feet, yanking Colin's hand away.

"Dad..." I say the word for the first time in a long, long time. It feels weird...foreign, even. It tastes like ashes on my tongue. "We're not going to work things out. I don't want to. Patrick and I haven't been working for a long time. Today was simply the last straw..."

"Don't be so dramatic, Lydia," Colin says, raising to his feet as well. The balm in his voice is gone, replaced by the usual poison, dripping from it.

"I'm not being dramatic. He hurt me, Dad!" I say, angry tears burning my cheeks.

"Patrick would never hurt you on purpose. It was probably in the heat of the moment. You surely provoked him in some way..."

Bile rises in my throat. The room starts to spin before my eyes and, suddenly, I can't breathe. My knees buck and I know I'm going to drop to the floor if I don't sit down.

I grab the edge of the desk instead, gathering all the strength I have left.

"Patrick and I are over. I'm not getting back to him. This is best for both of us. That's final." I say with the flattest tone I can muster, though the tears are flowing freely down my cheeks, rolling down my chest and wetting my T-shirt.

"I thought we were over that, Lydia. You know you have the responsibility to do the right thing. I thought I made myself clear during our last conversation."

I nod.

"Yes, Dad. You made yourself clear." I manage to say.

"Very well, then." He says on his way to the door. "You know what to do." He exits the room and shuts the door closed behind his back.

You know what to do.

I bloody well do.

Resolve washes over me in a hot wave. I pick up the backpack with my clothes from last night, which is still lying on the floor. I walk into my walk-in closet and grab stuff at random from the shelves, shoving it into the bag. I walk back to my room and sweep my hand over the vanity, knocking my stuff off and into the bag, filling it up. I take another bag from my closet and continue shoving stuff inside, emptying my drawers. It's only good that a lot of my stuff is already at Alex's.

When I'm finished with my room, I go to my mum's old room and start emptying her drawers, as well. I shove as much jewelry as I can in my bag, along with the framed photo from her vanity - John and I hugging her from behind, smiles wide and hair tousled. We'd been on vacation in Rome when that photo was taken. I was eight and John was six. We'd just finished eating gelato. It was one of my few happy childhood memories.

No one tries to stop me. Colin's in his room, not showing any signs he's noticing what's going on. Celia's in the living room, watching her favourite TV show. John's off to pick my car up.

That's it. No one cares.

I've done this multiple times, packing a bag and running off to Patrick's, or Alex's, after an argument with Colin, or Celia, but I've come back every time. They are probably thinking it's the same now.

Not this time. This time, I'm done. Once I'm out through the door, I'll be gone for good.

"Lydia, you scared me!" Mum says. "Don't do that, ever again!" She's holding me tight to her chest, her breathing fast and her tears wetting my hair.

"I just wanted to go to Gloria's, mummy," I say.

"You can't just leave the house and not tell anybody, Lydia. It's not safe for a little girl to be wandering the streets alone."

"But...but..."

"What is it, sweetheart?"

"I didn't want to listen to you and Daddy shouting," I say, finally breaking into tears myself.

I was six then.

I've wanted to get out of here for as long as I can remember. Today's as good a day, as any.

When I'm finished collecting my belongings, I throw my spare key in the bowl by the door, and leave the flat, slamming the door shut behind my back.

I walk out of the building with my backpack, my laptop bag and my carrier bag swung around my body. I cross the street and walk into the gardens, opposite the building, and sit on a bench, unloading my stuff. I take a deep breath and then let out a long, deep sigh of relief.

For the first time in weeks, I can breathe.

I take out my phone and look for the name I need. When I find it, I press the button and wait for the signal.

Alex picks up on the second ring.

"Hey, you alright?" She asks.

"Yeah..." I say, looking around at my bags. A raindrop falls from the sky at my feet. Fuck me! I hadn't noticed it was about to rain.

"Can you come pick me up, please?"