Chapter Two – Alice
I closed my door and saw a small girl do exactly the same. Our expressions matched. Our eyes wide and our mouths clenched to stop from gaping open like a fish, but why was she like this? She had no visions like mine.
"I'm Alice Cullen."
I nodded and gulped while trying to stop staring and act normal.
"Billie Halliway."
"Like Halliway Hotels? Do you know the owner?"
"Yeah that's my dad."
"Awesome."
She was obviously the new student if she wanted to talk to me. I turned to leave but she grabbed my arm. Again no vision, it was scary but nice. "Billie, come meet my family!"
I followed Alice to a corridor where four people I had never seen before were standing. "Edward, this is Billie. Billie, Edward." I shook Edwards hand and like with Alice there was no vision. This happened with Jasper, Rosalie and Emmett. It was nice to know that I could walk past them without fear of contact even if their skin was ice cold. For some reason I wanted to tell them about my gift, like I had a feeling they would understand but they wouldn't. They'd be like everyone else and think I was a freak. I wanted them to actually like me.
"Do you want to sit with us at lunch?"
"Errr," I wanted to but it would be rude to do so when only this morning I had asked Kristie if I could sit with her. "I would but I asked a friend this morning." That sounded weird. I have a friend for the first time. Woop!
"Oh, okay. We'll see you soon."
The five of them turned and walked away, all graceful, even Emmett. I went to math and sat alone at the back. As usual I had no idea what the teacher was talking about and couldn't ask anyone. Once the lesson ended all the students rushed out of the room while I stayed behind. As soon as I was sure that everyone was gone I made my way out of the classroom/ The next lesson dragged as I was excited about having someone to sit with at lunch for the first time in seven years.
At lunch I waited ten minutes so I wasn't the first person at the table. I wasn't sure whether Kristie's' friends knew about me yet. They did and were all friendly apart from a girl called Sophia. It was nice but I wanted to be sat at the table in the corner with the people who didn't seem to be eating. I contemplated going over there a few times but thought best to leave it.
After lunch I went to lessons with a few people staring, most people looking at me and nearly everyone talking about me. I had sat down with people at lunch. I'd made friends. I was grinning from ear to ear but that didn't stop me avoiding contact with people. A vision like that would definitely crush my mood.
For once I wasn't afraid to ask someone if I could borrow a pen. They stared for a while but did give me one. I even joined in the class discussion which made the teacher pause and smile for a slight second but then carried on as normal. At the end of school I walked out to the parking lot where Alice was waiting by an M3 convertible. When she saw me she slid off the side and skipped over to me where I was standing by my car.
"This is your car?"
Why was that a shock to her? After sitting with Kristie and her gossiping friends I had learnt that she and her family were rich. She knew who my dad was so it shouldn't come as a surprise to her really. She didn't know that I only got $2 a week.
"Yeah."
"It's lovely."
Alice stroked the bonnet and smiled like she'd just found an old toy in the attic.
"Porsche 911 Turbo comes in silver, black and yellow. Ridiculously over priced. Runs like a dream."
"Wow, I might have to get one of these someday."
"Bye Alice."
"Bye Billie."
I drove to my house and let myself in. Something wasn't right, it smelled like a mix of flowers and food. It smelled nice. I walked into the living room where my dad was sitting with a glass of water watching TV. When he saw me, he smiled. Something I had not seen him do sober in a long time. Then again, I hadn't seen him sober in a long time.
"The Principle called. Told me you made friends. I'm so glad Billie. So I thought, if my daughter was going to make an effort to carry on, so should I."
Was going to make an effort? I had been doing that every day for the past seven years when I chose to clean up his vomit every morning. The reason I didn't make friends was because I was trying to avoid accidentally touching someone and seeing their death than trying to talk to people. I save up every dollar for stuff and I never ask him for anything. I buy my own breakfast and lunch, he only pays for dinner. Because of all this, I never have enough money to buy new clothes. I have to scrape together small amounts to get t-shirts from a thrift store.
"Dad, I've been making an effort every stinking day since mom died. You've just been too out of your head to notice."
He looked down guiltily and I went upstairs to feed Ivy. As usual she was waiting for me on my bed licking her paws. I got the cat food out of the cupboard and put it under the bed slightly so that if dad came in he wouldn't see her, not that that would ever happen.
Once Ivy had had enough she purred while I stroked her and then she left. I sighed heavily and went back downstairs and saw dad had replaced water with beer. His second can was already in his hand. I took it from him and replaced it with tropical juice and threw all the alcohol in the trash. I saw dad spit out the juice across the room and wipe his mouth with his sleeve.
"Billie! What is the crap you've given me? Where is my fucking beer?"
Dad wasn't drunk not after one and a half cans. These days it takes about fifteen cans just to make him tipsy.
"Tropical juice dad, you said you were going to make an effort. The beers are in the trash, I thought you might like to try something with a little more flavor than water."
"I WAS going to make an effort. That's past tense, therefore you understand that I am not going to bother anymore. Get your dinner out the oven and stay in your room unless I call you out."
I did as I was told without saying a word. I didn't know what had gotten him so upset. A normal, sober person would not go that mental over juice but then again, dad isn't a normal, sober person. Dad has had so much alcohol in his system that it could take more than a couple of hours to sober him up.
I was watching TV in my room, I was watching some comedy program called Frasier. It was always on the reruns channel but I never watched it before today. It was getting to the funny part in the middle where everything begins to go wrong when dad stormed inn and took my sky + box away. I'd have to do something else. My diary was one of the few options. I knew I couldn't go on my PC or he'd probably take the screen away or something stupid like that. My diary was given to me by my mum before she died. I never really used it until after the accident. I promised I would write in it at least three times a week after that. Often it helps to get out all my anger so I don't start screaming at dad. Often it goes like this:
Mum,
Dad is drunk again. Surprise, surprise. I tried to give him tropical juice but he wasn't pleased and so I snapped at him. I want to help him but I don't know what I can do. I do everything and all I ask for a week is $2. I know asking for nothing in return would seem more saint-like but I need it for food at lunch and in the morning. Oh mum, I made friends today. Kristie can her friends. Do you remember them? They used to come to my birthday parties when I was four up until I was seven. After that I stopped having them, why was that? I also met a group of people called the Cullens. They all seem to like me and they're really nice. Anyway, I better get some sleep. Love you lots mom, say hi to Olivia for me.
Billie xx
That was todays entry. I write them as if that diary is a way to communicate with mum. I still don't tell her about my gift. I also worry that when I've filled up her diary I won't be able to talk to her any more, even if I get a new diary. I'm hoping I'll still feel like I can.
I shoved the diary under my bed and tried to get some sleep. The next morning was different to every other morning. I went downstairs as usual but there was no stale vomit and alcohol. A nice smell wafted through the air. I went into the living room half expecting dad to be laying there with sick covered in rose petals but there was no dad, no sick and no rose petals. There was however an air freshener that squirts fresh smelling spray every thirty minutes. On the coffee table was my sky + box and a note.
Gone to the pub, washing up needs doing by the time I get back. Your money is on the side
Dad
Odd. I went into the kitchen to get my money and saw that there was $5 sitting on the side. Five? I looked round for another pile of money but there wasn't. Had he left that much by accident? I found yet another note by the money and read it.
Don't do washing up, I'll do it. Yes, all $5 is for you.
Happy Birthday Billie
Dad
It was my birthday? I checked the date. Friday 8th May. I'm seventeen today! We haven't celebrated my birthday since I was ten. I've gotten used to it just being an ordinary day. I don't even bother to put it on the calender anymore, but there it was in dads scruffy handwriting. Billie's Birthday. He had remembered, what was going on with him? I got dressed and drove to Starbucks to get my morning coffee. I walked in and who should I see there?
Alice Cullen.
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