something thatâs not going to make me happy will haunt me ,â I tell him. âI want to be like you; please just accept that.â
âI donât have to accept anything,â he tells me, rising from his chair. âIâm your father, and thereâs no way that I will support you in this. And if youâre going to fight and threaten me, Iâm going to remind you what youâre dealing with.â
âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â I ask.
âIt means that the policing world is a small one. All it takes is the drop of a name to fast-track an application, or send it to the bottom of the pile.â
âYou wouldnât do that,â I whisper, stunned. âIt goes against all your principles.â
âEvery cop out there who has seen what Iâve seen will agree with me, Tamara,â he says. âEven with their principles.â
I glare at him. âI canât believe you would do this to me. I have no other options.â
âYes, you do â lots of them,â he says. âJust not policing.â
âFine! Iâll take up prostitution,â I yell, walking out of the room.
âGreat,â he yells back. âI can put you in touch with a few madams who own premises on my beat!â
I slam my bedroom door angrily, my eyes filling up with tears.
David, Lauren, Dad . . . Why do I keep letting everyone walk all over me? And why am I so powerless to stop them?
Gillian
         Gillian Cummings When you see your best friend in a shoot with Karlie Kloss on Insta #bowdown #SylvanaDarrar #yougogirl
âI showed Charlie how to use the stupid camera,â Matty tells me in Maths. âDo you want to know what she said?â
I bite my lip, not sure if Iâm supposed to answer.
âShe said, âGreat, now I have no excuse for getting out of this crap.â The chickâs messed up.â
My face reddens.
He gives me a look that says âI told you soâ, then opens up his textbook.
I donât know what to say, so I open mine too and wonder why algebra makes more sense than my own life.
I decide to corner Charlie at lunch. Sheâs sitting under a tree, her head buried in a laptop.
I stand in front of her for a few minutes, and she finally rollsher eyes, pulls her headphones out of her ears and gives me a look that is all attitude.
âMatty says he showed you how to use the camera,â I say.
She nods, then turns her laptop towards me. âDo you mind? I really want to watch this.â
I fold my arms, purse my lips and try to match her, attitude for attitude.
âNothing exciting happens. It goes into some convoluted storyline and someone comes back from the dead. In three more episodes youâll start to wonder why youâre watching it.â
She death-stares me. âDid you come here to ruin it for me?â
I shrug. âNo, I came to ask if you need help taking photos. I can go with you to events and stuff.â
âI donât need friends,â she says to me, as if sheâs doing me a favour by freeing up my time.
âThis isnât about friendship; this is about our yearbook.â
She looks at me as if Iâm the biggest loser that ever walked the earth. I start to feel like maybe I am.
âWhy are you so keen to work on this stupid yearbook?â she asks. âYou heard Matty. No one else even cares.â
âI think Iâll like it,â I admit. âMaybe Iâll remember the good times.â
âCan I give you some advice?â she says. âYouâre at this school because you have to be. You didnât choose this. What comes after â thatâs what you choose, thatâs when the real good times will begin. This is all fake, forced . . . for show.â
I swallow, and look across the playground.
She closes her laptop. âFine,â she says, after a moment. âMaybe I could use some help.