Free Writing Our Song by Emma South Page B

hope?  I’d think it would be quite disruptive changing schools.  Even if it’s a bit more inconvenient, I’d recommend a bit of a commute to keep coming here.”
    “No, we’re going to New York.”
    “New York?  Why?”
    “My mom’s boyfriend is… uh… relocating his company’s head office there.”
    “You never mentioned your mom was seeing somebody else.”
    “Sorry.  Didn’t know how to bring it up.”
    “How do you feel about that?”
    “Fine, just fine,” I said.
    “What’s he like?”
    “My mom’s boyfriend?”
    Eli nodded.
    “He’s… a real peach.”
    “It’s natural to feel some, a lot, of resentment under the circumstances, Beatrice, but we knew this would probably happen sooner or later.  Not the moving part, that’s a bit unexpected.”
    “Yeah, I remember we went over it.”
    “Mmmm.  I think the three of you, your mom, her boyfriend and yourself, should sit down and have a very quick talk about how you’re feeling about the whole situation.  Everybody needs to be clear that he isn’t replacing your dad and he shouldn’t try.  You can all hopefully move forward with mutual respect.”
    Mutual respect.  I thought back to my only interaction with Eugene that had come close to a conversation and just managed to suppress a smirk.  Not one single time had I ever called him Mr. Mercer, and I never would even if I had the chance.
    “We’ll do that,” I said.
    “And Friday is your last day?  Why did you leave it so late to tell us?”
    “Just completely forgot, really.  Mind on other things.  You know how it is.”
    Eli pulled his sleeve up and looked at his watch, though a glance at any of the other timepieces in the room would have sufficed, and then back to me.
    “Well, when you get to your new school, I would recommend seeing another counsellor.  Maybe see somebody outside of the school.”
    “OK.”
    “I don’t want to infringe on your lunchtime, Beatrice, so I’ll let you get going.  It was nice to meet you, I wish it had been under happier circumstances.  Things will get better though, you understand?”
    “Sure.  Thanks,” I said and shook his extended hand.
    When his office door closed behind me I took a deep breath and felt my cheeks puff out as I released the air.  It was like getting through the Spanish inquisition with a surprise pardon.
    After that I really phoned it in for the rest of the day.  There didn’t seem to be much point in putting any effort in.  I told my teachers and most of them didn’t set any homework for me.  I ignored those who did.  I would have said today was my last day but thought a weekend move was more plausible.
    When I went to work that night I asked about increasing my hours to full time, which was a hard sell since they didn’t trust me on the front counter and my usefulness was hence somewhat limited.  Thankfully another part-timer had just handed in their notice and my manager let me take over their hours.
    It didn’t work out to a regular full time job, but it cracked thirty hours a week and there would probably be opportunities for more here and there.  It saved them the hassle of interviewing people and training a new person, which offset my own shortcomings.
    My increased hours started in two weeks time, which left me with not very long to sort out one of the most pressing issues.  I knew the rent on the house was far beyond what a single person’s part-time fast-food wage could pay, so I had to find somewhere to live.
    If I let myself think about it too much I knew it would hurt to leave behind the only home I had ever known but there was no time for thinking about anything but what I needed to survive.  The way my mom had extinguished my hope had at least left me with that gift.  I felt cold and calculating, which was exactly what I needed to get through this latest crisis.
    Over the next few days I used the internet as much as possible at lunchtime, requesting viewings of various apartments