A Vision of Green (Florence Vaine #2) (27 page)

His smile transforms into something like a frown. “You have to stop trying to fix other people, you know. Work on yourself for a while Flo,” he says, and then he steps away from me, joining Layla and the others and putting his arms around her waist.

Suddenly Frank's standing beside me, appraising me with his eyes. “Haven't seen much of you all week,” he says.

He hasn't, and if I'm being honest, I've avoided him for a couple of reasons. One being the whole problem with my dad, which I still don't know how I'm going to handle, and the other was that odd kiss with Josh, who by the way has been giving me these smug, knowing smirks ever since it happened. Even though I'm not exactly Frank's girlfriend, I feel guilty. Perhaps I'm just too inexperienced when it comes to dealing with boys.

I bet when Layla had to confront the whole situation with Alex and Ross both wanting her she took it all in stride. Maybe I should ask her for advice before she leaves, although the idea of telling her about being the unlikely recipient of Josh's affections makes me want to curl up in a ball and cringe. I mean, if he had been nice to me from day one I probably would have liked him, but he was a dick, and I really can't seem to overlook that behaviour just because he's suddenly decided that he likes me.

“
Been busy. Studying – and stuff.”

Frank raises an eyebrow. “Stuff?”

I nod. “Dad's been sick. Too much hard living.” I'm not lying either. After the last two weeks of boozing and drugging, Dad has been alternating between hibernating in Gran's old bedroom sleeping, getting sick in the bathroom, and trying the good old recipe of curing a hangover by drinking more. Only he's been drinking alone, and that's never a good idea, because Dad can get punchy when he drinks by himself and I'm the only one around. Fortunately, I've managed to dodge his wandering fists.

Frank tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and ducks his head down to meet my eyes. “You shouldn't have to take care of him like that. I'm sure his sickness was all self-inflicted.”

“
I know, but who else is going to do it?” I ask, looking away.

Frank takes my chin in his hand, forcing me to look him in the eye again. He seems to be having an internal struggle with something. “One of these days Flo – one of these days I'm going to steal you and run away with you. I'll keep you all to myself and you'll never have to clean up after that scumbag or nurse him while he's sick ever again.”

“
That sounds...extreme,” I reply, although what I'm really thinking is that it sounds romantic and wonderful, and I'm trying not to melt all the way down to my toes.

He grins, tugging a little on my chin. “Yeah well, when it comes to you honey, I want to do
lots
of extreme things.”

“
That's...that's n-nice,” I mumble.
That's nice?
Sometimes I'd do well to keep my mouth shut to prevent myself from sounding like a retard.

Frank laughs and moves closer. I can smell his minty breath and the fabric softener on his jacket. “I really want to see you some time this week, but I told John I'd help him out at work. The construction company he works for has been hired to do some renovations on the town library, so I'm gonna do a bit of labour for them. I'll be busy most days, but would you come and meet me for lunch on Monday?”

I blink away the picture of Frank working with his hands. Building things. The image really suits him. “Sure, I'll meet you at around one o'clock outside the library then,” I answer, physically unable to deny his request. The prospect of seeing him in work clothes, all dusty from the building site does strange things to me.

His smile literally lights up his entire face. “Great, I can't wait,” he breathes.

We say our goodbyes and I make my way out of the school, however, as I'm leaving the gates I spot a familiar figure standing by the railings. Dad. There are two students standing beside him, and they make some kind of an exchange with him before walking away. Dad shoves something into his pocket and looks about with a shifty expression.

Oh God, he better not be dealing. I glance over at the two boys he'd been talking to. They have a giddy look about them as they grin and hurry away from the school. He's definitely dealing. And to students at my school. Fury consumes me, and with bravery I didn't know I had I march right over to him.

“
Dad!” I whisper at him angrily. “What d-d-do you think you're doing?”

His brown eyes cut into me, squinting against the light of the sun since he's not used to being out during the day. “Nothing. Fuck off home Flo, I'm busy.”

“
N-n-no, you fuck off home Dad,” I retort. “I saw you dealing to those students. You're going to g-get yourself into trouble.”

He rolls his eyes. “It was only a bit of hash. And I've no intention of getting caught. Now, I repeat, get yourself home, or do I have to drag you kicking and screaming?”

I'm just about to respond when I hear someone pull up to the side of the road. I look behind me to find Frank in the driver's seat of the van, with Layla and the boys sitting in the back. An audience, just wonderful. He's got his window rolled down and his aura is a blazing inferno as he takes in the sight of my dad. This is the first time he's seen him in the flesh, and it doesn't look as though he likes what he sees. Dad's hair is messy and dirty, his complexion is pale and grey, yellow beneath the eyes, and he's quite clearly being a prick to me.

“
Everything okay here Flo?” he asks, eyes searing into mine.

Dad spits on the ground, just short of his black boot. “She's fine. Now move along, fuckhead.”

At this, Frank slides out of the van, with all the smooth grace of a panther on the hunt. He slams shut the door and steps up to stand toe to toe with Dad.

“
What did you just say to me?” Frank demands, his voice cold and hard. So unlike him. He towers over Dad, being a good half a foot taller. I swallow down a lump of saliva.

“
I said move the fuck along, and keep away from my daughter.” Dad hisses.

Frank looks at me and then back at Dad. “You don't deserve to call her your daughter, you've hardly been much of a parent to her,” he says, his words make my eyes sting with tears, not only because they're true but also because I'm dying inside. This situation is far too hostile for my liking. I just want to wither away to dust, especially since Layla, Ross, Alex, Kevin and Benji are all watching from their places in the van.

Dad's entire face seethes with violence as he lifts his hands and pushes Frank in the chest. It doesn't do much to move him. Dad has no idea that Frank is far stronger than any normal boy his age.

“
You'll regret touching me,” says Frank, glaring. He steps forward and Dad shifts backward, tripping over his own feet. He falls to the ground and a small bag of drugs spills out of his jacket pocket onto the pavement.
Oh no
. I cover my face with my hands, mortified. Frank looks down at the bag and then back at Dad.

“
Have you been dealing? Here at the school?” he laughs without humour. “This is just priceless. You know, you don't even deserve to look at Flo, let alone be her dad. You're scum.”

Dad's expression contorts with an emotion far uglier than simple rage. His pale face goes red, as he stands back up and whips around to face me. “You been talking about my business to this little shit, Flo?”

My throat dries up and I take a step backward, very much considering running away from this awful confrontation. I can't breathe. I can't get out a single word.

“
You've still been seeing him, haven't you?” Dad accuses. “Oh you're in deep trouble now Flo, remember what I said I'd do if I found out you were lying to me again? Well consider it done.”

Frank moves toward me, but I continue backing up. “What does he mean?” he asks, one part confused, one part hurt, and one final part furious.

“
I'm s-s-sorry,” I finally whisper.

Then the inconceivable happens. The principal, Miss Waterfield, is leaving the school gates in her black saloon car. She must notice that something's going on, because she stops just beside Frank's van and gets out.

“
Is everything okay here?” she asks, glancing shrewdly between me, Frank and my dad.

“
No, everything's not all right.” Frank replies. “This man here has been dealing drugs to students at the school. I just caught him,” he gestures to the clear plastic bag on the ground.

Miss Waterfield's eyes widen and she immediately goes into business mode, pulling her mobile phone from her pocket. “Right. Hold him there for me would you Franklin? Boys,” she says gesturing to Frank's brothers in the van, “come and help Frank please.”

Dad struggles and curses to the high heavens, but he's too weak and they keep him held in place easily. I feel like I'm having a nightmare. Even though it's right that Dad should be held accountable for his actions, I just can't help my shame and embarrassment. This my sad little life, out in the open for all to see. My junkie father dealing to school kids and most likely on the verge of getting arrested.

Miss Waterfield talks over the phone to the police, but I can hardly hear what she's saying, my thumping heart drowns out her words. While everyone's attention is focused on making sure Dad doesn't run off, I slowly turn around and flee the scene. I keep running until I get to a small children's playground close to the centre of town. There's a brick in my throat and the only way to get rid of it is to either push it down and ignore it or allow myself to cry.

I sit on a swing, put my head in my hands and let the tears flow.

I cry for what seems like hours. It's a good thing the park is mostly empty, or I'd be scaring away little children who want to play and have fun. The sky begins to darken, so I'm sure I've been here longer than most people would deem normal. I sway back and forth slowly, locked inside my own head.

The smell of the old metal chains on the swings clogs my nose. Emotions swim through me, and with them I can see their corresponding colours moving over my skin. The deep mahogany of shame. The sour dark yellow of embarrassment. The light grey of worry. The darkest black of anger.

“
People have been looking for you,” says a gentle voice to my side. I turn to find Sam sitting on the swing next to mine, I hadn't even heard him approach. Either I was too wrapped up in my own thoughts, or he's preternaturally quiet.

“
I don't really feel like being found,” I reply, lifting my legs up into the air and going faster on the swing. Sam easily matches my pace, and we do this for a couple of minutes in silence, like two little kids on a play date.

“
I suppose you heard about w-what happened with my dad,” I say softly, my eyes trained on the pebbly ground below me.

“
I did. He was taken down to the station by the police after Miss Waterfield called them to the school.” Sam answers. “They couldn't charge him though, because the drugs weren't actually on his person when they got him. Also, there was only really a recreational amount in the bag they found.”

I grimace. “That's probably because he'd just sold most of it to two students.”

“
Did you get a good look at them?”

“
Not really, it was two guys but they were too far away for me to make out their faces. D-d-do you know where my dad is now?” I ask, fear building in my gut. I don't think I can brave going back to the house, knowing he'll be there waiting for me.

“
I was told that a female friend of his came to collect him from the station, though she never left her name.”

It can't have been Sal, since Dad ran her out of town. I've never known him to have a friend loyal enough to come and get him after being hauled in for dealing. Perhaps it was the blond woman from the party the other night, or the mysterious friend who'd been keeping an eye on me. Come to think of it, they're probably one and the same person. It's a pity I didn't get a decent look at her when she'd been in Gran's old room with Dad that time.

I slow down on the swing. “I d-don't want to go home if he's there,” I whisper, not looking at Sam. I can't confess this fear and maintain eye contact at the same time.

“
I can come with you, make sure the house is empty. And if he is there then I'll take you to John's house and you can stay there for the night.”

“
Oh God Sam, I really can't face Frank or his brothers. They all saw Dad, they all know what I come from now. I mean, I know Frank was aware of what he's like already, but knowing and actually seeing it are two very different things. I'm so ashamed.”