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The day after Rachel and Zoe had their PE exam, and two days before Rachel’s very final exam – the written part of her dance class – the girls went for a long run.
They had been staying at Zoe’s house, since they found out that Indigo was a demon. Yes, Rachel has been living at Zoe’s, and they had been starting to talk about Rachel staying there for good.
Rachel wasn’t sure what to think about this – it sounded miraculous.
Miracles scared her because they weren’t real. She didn’t get miracles. Miracles were for other people – like Cai, with the bullet in his heart that kept on beating, with eyes that could see forever. Miracles weren’t for confused girls who weren’t sure which version of them was real.
She wanted to stay though, so much! In her mind, she’d started to pack up her room. In her mind, she knew what she was going to say to her father. She’d spoken to him briefly (‘spoken’ – it had been another argument, he didn’t want her to go, she’d gone anyway.) Next time would be a better conversation. More adult. She’d be Rachel then, really Rachel, the best Rachel she could be, not Elaine.
Excitement bubbled inside her. Excitement and hope. It felt good but – weren’t there gasses that made you feel good as they suffocated you? Was laughing gas poisonous?
Even if her dance written did go badly, she didn’t care. Because exams would be over, and school would be over, and that felt like a good time to move out of home. A really good time. Leave it all behind.
And Liz and Emma and Hope had been so welcoming, so supportive, and kept showing her over and over that she didn’t need to be apprehensive. And Zoe was Zoe – a curious mix of emotions Rachel couldn’t quite read.
Zoe welcomed her, in her own way. Less hugs than Liz, less bubbles than Hope, but with a quiet, slow burning kind of excitement that showed itself in odd places. Like in the care Zoe took at explaining various little routines around the house; an in depth lesson in how the dishwasher worked, which remotes were which, the trick with the shower, where the extra toilet paper was kept. The warning to stay away from the pool because it wasn’t finished yet. All things that Rachel could have worked out for herself, but Zoe seemed adamant that she had to show her.
Maybe – thought Rachel – this was the step she needed to take to leave Elaine behind and become Rachel for real. She’d considered ditching the name Rachel entirely and turning into Dawn, but she liked Rachel. Rachel felt right. Rachel was the girl who’d decided to be better. Rachel was the girl who’d found Zoe at the start of the year, and then had found Danny. (Okay, maybe Rachel believed in miracles a little bit – she had Danny, didn’t she?)
Rachel was the girl who’d made it through a whole year of school. She couldn’t quite believe that, really. Things had been looking pretty bleak in April – she’d wanted to quit forever. But Aprils were always a bit rough. It might have been Spring – everything bursting into life, everything changing. There’d be some sub-conscious reason for hating April, she knew.
She also knew she didn’t care to know what that reason was. It was enough that she’d made it through April and somehow, all the way to the end of June. Summer was in full swing now, and the day was overcast and warm, with brief snatches of blue. A good day for a run.
It was strange that, on this day as she was thinking about miracles and change, that a street name caught her eye. Nothing very conspicuous about the name at first: Old Fort Road.
Old Fart Road, she remembered, against her will. A flash of the back of a postcard, messy handwriting addressing the card to their flat, but he’d taken care with the o in Fort, so it was almost an a. He’d done that for them, to make them laugh.
Here was another Tarot card of memory, its edges not flat like they should be, but lifted, dangerously close to catching a gust of wind that would flip the whole the card over.
No. Rachel squashed the memory hard by shouting at Zoe, “Race you!” and bolting, fast and sudden as she could, in front of Zoe.
She had to run forward – in every aspect of her life. It was the only way she was going to survive. Had to keep her eyes focused on the future, whatever the future was going to bring.
Keep running, keep going so fast and so brilliantly that the past didn’t stand a chance to catch up with her.
Just keep running.
They had been staying at Zoe’s house, since they found out that Indigo was a demon. Yes, Rachel has been living at Zoe’s, and they had been starting to talk about Rachel staying there for good.
Rachel wasn’t sure what to think about this – it sounded miraculous.
Miracles scared her because they weren’t real. She didn’t get miracles. Miracles were for other people – like Cai, with the bullet in his heart that kept on beating, with eyes that could see forever. Miracles weren’t for confused girls who weren’t sure which version of them was real.
She wanted to stay though, so much! In her mind, she’d started to pack up her room. In her mind, she knew what she was going to say to her father. She’d spoken to him briefly (‘spoken’ – it had been another argument, he didn’t want her to go, she’d gone anyway.) Next time would be a better conversation. More adult. She’d be Rachel then, really Rachel, the best Rachel she could be, not Elaine.
Excitement bubbled inside her. Excitement and hope. It felt good but – weren’t there gasses that made you feel good as they suffocated you? Was laughing gas poisonous?
Even if her dance written did go badly, she didn’t care. Because exams would be over, and school would be over, and that felt like a good time to move out of home. A really good time. Leave it all behind.
And Liz and Emma and Hope had been so welcoming, so supportive, and kept showing her over and over that she didn’t need to be apprehensive. And Zoe was Zoe – a curious mix of emotions Rachel couldn’t quite read.
Zoe welcomed her, in her own way. Less hugs than Liz, less bubbles than Hope, but with a quiet, slow burning kind of excitement that showed itself in odd places. Like in the care Zoe took at explaining various little routines around the house; an in depth lesson in how the dishwasher worked, which remotes were which, the trick with the shower, where the extra toilet paper was kept. The warning to stay away from the pool because it wasn’t finished yet. All things that Rachel could have worked out for herself, but Zoe seemed adamant that she had to show her.
Maybe – thought Rachel – this was the step she needed to take to leave Elaine behind and become Rachel for real. She’d considered ditching the name Rachel entirely and turning into Dawn, but she liked Rachel. Rachel felt right. Rachel was the girl who’d decided to be better. Rachel was the girl who’d found Zoe at the start of the year, and then had found Danny. (Okay, maybe Rachel believed in miracles a little bit – she had Danny, didn’t she?)
Rachel was the girl who’d made it through a whole year of school. She couldn’t quite believe that, really. Things had been looking pretty bleak in April – she’d wanted to quit forever. But Aprils were always a bit rough. It might have been Spring – everything bursting into life, everything changing. There’d be some sub-conscious reason for hating April, she knew.
She also knew she didn’t care to know what that reason was. It was enough that she’d made it through April and somehow, all the way to the end of June. Summer was in full swing now, and the day was overcast and warm, with brief snatches of blue. A good day for a run.
It was strange that, on this day as she was thinking about miracles and change, that a street name caught her eye. Nothing very conspicuous about the name at first: Old Fort Road.
Old Fart Road, she remembered, against her will. A flash of the back of a postcard, messy handwriting addressing the card to their flat, but he’d taken care with the o in Fort, so it was almost an a. He’d done that for them, to make them laugh.
Here was another Tarot card of memory, its edges not flat like they should be, but lifted, dangerously close to catching a gust of wind that would flip the whole the card over.
No. Rachel squashed the memory hard by shouting at Zoe, “Race you!” and bolting, fast and sudden as she could, in front of Zoe.
She had to run forward – in every aspect of her life. It was the only way she was going to survive. Had to keep her eyes focused on the future, whatever the future was going to bring.
Keep running, keep going so fast and so brilliantly that the past didn’t stand a chance to catch up with her.
Just keep running.
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