I pull her into my arms, laughing. “Never.”
“Dad’s in the shed, working and talking to Uncle Malcom.”
“Never mind them. How are you doing?” I ask, picking up the work she left on the seat before sitting down. She squeezes in next to me and takes the work from me, putting it on the table.
“I’m okay. School sucks.”
“That wasn’t what I meant,” I tell her, arching an eyebrow. Her mum isn’t the best mum. She comes and goes as she pleases. She mostly turns up drunk, begging Dad to let her stay.
“He’s done with her,” she admits. “I’m surprised it took him this long. She’s crazy.”
“He did it for you,” I explain.
Her eyes widen. “Why?”
“Because he knows what it was like for me when Mum used me in her games. It made me resent her in a way. He didn’t want to be the parent that made you feel like that’s what he was doing by keeping her from you.”
“Yeah, but your mum isn’t a raging bitch. She doesn’t get hammered and accidently leave you in the car. She never forgot to feed you or take you to school. She never forgot to pick you up.”
I clench my fists together. Her mum is the reason she was walking alone in the dark. She had an afterschool commitment and Dad, thinking he was doing the right thing, gave Nicola the money to pick up her daughter and take her out for dinner.
Nicola saw that as an opportunity to spend the money on alcohol, leaving her daughter stranded.
How he wasn’t done with her then is a mystery.
“I’m sorry.”
She shrugs. “It is what it is.”
I tug on a strand of blue hair, arching my eyebrow. “And this?”
“Self-expression. The school have locked down on the uniform code and now on hair, makeup, and nails.”
“But you don’t wear any of that,” I point out, and gesture to her nails that are chewed off and have dirt beneath them.
She shrugs. “It doesn’t matter. It goes against everything I believe in. They can’t make us sheep. We have different personalities and should be able to express them in whatever way we can, especially if we already have to agree to wear their stupid uniform.”
“But a uniform stops people from judging others. Not everyone can afford stylish clothes or the latest trend. It’s like a bullseye for some kids.”
She holds up her finger and her nose twitches. “No. This isn’t about the uniform. I completely agree with that. But to be told what we can do to our own bodies is what I’m fighting against. If I want to dye my hair blue, I should be able to. If I want a manicure and to have pretty patterns on my nails, I should be able to. And hell, if you saw how zombified some of those girls look in the morning, you’d stand with me on the makeup too. We are going through a hormonal stage. It’s not pretty. Yet, they try to dictate what we can wear.”
“Nora,” I begin.
“She going on about expressing herself?” Dad asks, walking up with Ry, his friend and employee, and Uncle Malcom.
I grin as Nora crosses her arms over her chest. “It’s a peaceful protest.”
“You got suspended for a week and are being forced to write a letter of apology to your peers.”
A sly grin slips over her lips. “Oh, I’ve written a letter. I’ve written one stating that today’s society is fucked up. Too many women are being told how to dress, how to act, and what they should be doing with life and work. It’s one rule for men, and one for us. You don’t see teachers criticizing the lads for how short their trousers are. You don’t see them being judged for having slicked back hair. No. It’s women. We are being conditioned into believing how we dress matters. Read the policy, Dad. It states it’s to stop distractions in school. Well, if they can’t keep their pervy eyes away from girls, they have no place in being there. But no, it’s always the woman’s fault.”
“Nora,” Dad sighs.
She holds up her hand. “I wasn’t finished.”
“Baby,” Dad murmurs, chuckling.
“Nope. I’m not arguing over this. I’m right.”
“I know you are,” Dad replies, but she’s not listening. Not anymore.
“I’ve also gone into more detail about how women are told what to wear and how to look too much in their lives; that school’s condition that way of thinking and it’s not fair. Did you know that if a woman is raped, they ask what she was wearing? Yeah. Because being raped in an all in one hazmat suit is different to someone who wore a short skirt and skimpy top. It’s ridiculous. Yet, when a man is assaulted, what he wore is not considered. It’s stupid.
“I should be allowed to be who I want to be. I should be able to dress how I want to dress. Stop teaching girls to suppress themselves whilst encouraging males to do the opposite.
“I’ve ended the letter with this: I’m a strong young woman, and I will continue to fight for my rights and to be heard. And I’ll fight for the next generation who has to put up with this sexist bullshit. I’ll do it loudly and proudly.”
“Preach it,” Malcom hoots, holding his fist out for a fist bump. She rolls her eyes but obliges.
I pull her into me when she sags, wearing herself out. “Want me to help you read it over because the bullshit bit might be a little too much?”
“No,” she sighs. “I just want them to see that they can’t force me to conform. They can’t take my personality away. I know I went off topic but it all matters. It’s all the same meaning.”
“I’m proud of you,” I tell her.
“Me too, kid,” Dad tells her, kissing her head. He bends over, clapping me on the shoulder. “Want a drink?”
“Not tonight.”
“Coming in?”
I shake my head. “There’s something I wanted to ask Nora and get her opinion on.”
“Are you sure?” Ry asks, biting his lip. “She gets angry a lot.”
“You’re just mad because Becky took my side and you got put in the dog house.”
Dad howls with laughter. “She had you there.”
Malcom turns to me. “Will I be seeing you up at the cliff top soon?”
I shrug. “I’m still getting my bike looked at but yeah, soon.”
He knocks my chin with his fist. “See you soon, lad.”
My uncle owns food trucks that are tucked away up some cliff top. It has one of the best views around and is a place I love to go for solace and peace. It’s my favourite place to visit.
They head inside, leaving us alone. “If you’re about to give me a lecture, don’t.”
“I’m not,” I tell her. “I really do need your help.”
She watches me warily. “What with?”
“Actually, about what you were just talking about,” I admit, surprising her. “You know Landon, who now runs the gym with me?”
“The hot one?”
I snort. “That one. His, um, his cousin, who he’s really close with, turned up late at the gym a month ago. She was in a bad way.” I stop when she grips the edge of the chair, her knuckles turning white. “Forget it. I shouldn’t have brought this up.”