22. Isaac
22
ISAAC
A FEW MONTHS AGO
“They’re not mine. I was holding them for Luke.”
“Don’t you dare lie to me. Do you think we haven’t seen the books in your room?”
I’ve never heard my father yell before, but I guess if anything was going to push him to the limit, this is it. I knew I was forgetting something when I came back to school after a weekend at home. I’d requested brochures from a few different art schools, and the plan was to grab them as soon as I got home to bring them back to school with me. But I forgot all about it, and now they’ve found them.
“The books are from school.” I try my best to think of more lies to tell them to hide what I’ve done, but they see right through me.
“Stop lying, Isaac.” My mother’s voice this time, and even though she’s not shouting, her coldness stops me from trying to say anything back. “Tell us why you were looking at other schools.”
I hesitate, trying to figure out a way to explain it without telling them that I don’t want to go to Oxford. I thought I would have more time to prepare for this and build a case for why Oxford isn’t the best option for me, and even though I appreciate everything they’ve done for me, it’s not what I want to do. But I’m on the spot now, and I’m exhausted from having to hide it, so I tell them the truth.
“Because I don’t want to do Law, and I don’t want to go to Oxford either. I never wanted to. I was just doing what you wanted me to.”
It’s the loudest silence I’ve ever heard, and it feels like my ears are ringing as I grip the phone and wait for my parents’ response. I can imagine the looks on their faces, the weight of disappointment that feels like a living thing crawling through the phone to cover me right now. But I still want to justify myself, to try and make them understand.
“I like art, and I’m good at it.” My voice breaks as I attempt to prove myself, to appeal to them, and show them that my passions lie elsewhere, but I know it’s futile when I hear a scoff.
“You’re good at it?” I can hear the disdain in his voice and the ridicule, and I regret telling them, picking up the phone, and ever wanting something for myself.
“What does that matter? You can be good at anything. It doesn’t mean you throw away everything your mother and I have done for you.”
I want to scream, to tell them that they haven’t done anything except put pressure on me for the last few years. I want to tell them that it’s been my friends supporting me the whole time, that it’s been Violet. But the words don’t come out.
“Do we need to take you out of that school? I told you sending him there was a mistake.” He scolds my mum, and I hate that she’s getting the brunt of it, too, but she’s never been any help either. But then his words hit me, and I realise what he’s considering.
“You can’t.”
It rushes out of me, panic flooding my body as I think about what that would mean. There’d be no way I’d see my friends again or Violet when I’ve just had the most blissful year with her.
“Why not exactly? We’ll hire a teacher, and you can learn at home.”
“You can’t. I have to stay here.” My voice keeps cracking, and I know I sound like a child throwing a tantrum when their toys get taken from them, but I can’t let them do this.
“We’ll call the school on Monday and tell them that you’re spending the next year at home so you can focus. I’m sure they’ll understand.”
My head starts spinning, and it feels like the room is closing in on me. I pull the phone away from my ear, pressing the red button to end the call before throwing it on the bed. It starts ringing again, but my hands are wrapped around my body as I try to physically keep myself together because it feels like I’m falling apart and the world is crashing down on me. I end up leaning against the wall to try and keep myself upright, but then the phone rings again, and my legs give out as I slide to the floor.
I clench my eyes shut and cover my ears with my hands to try to drown out the noise. I can hear my name being called, but it sounds foggy like it’s coming from a thousand miles away. I wonder how my parents managed to get here so quickly to tear me away from my home.
“Isaac, what’s wrong?”
My hands are tugged away from my ear and when I open my eyes, Luke is crouched in front of me, worry lining his face. He puts his hands on my shoulders and keeps calling my name, but I can’t say anything back. I just stare at him wide-eyed as he gently shakes me.
“Isaac, talk to me.”
I manage to croak out his name just before the phone starts ringing again, and then I’m tucking my head between my knees, trying to block out the noise. Luke takes his hands off my shoulders, and the noise stops. He comes back to me and takes my hands from where they’re wrapped around my knees.
“Come on, let’s get you up.” He pulls me up and leads me to the edge of my bed, sitting us both down and then putting one arm around my shoulder and holding my hand with the other.
I’m gasping for air like I’ve been held underwater, my breathing short and shallow, and I know I need to try and get it under control, but I can’t. Luke rubs my shoulder, whispering, ‘breathe in, breathe out’ on repeat, but I can’t seem to focus on it.
They want to take me out of school, away from the only place that really feels like home .
I won’t see my friends who I’ve spent nearly my entire life with.
I won’t see Violet, who I’m planning the rest of my life with.
I have to stop them from calling the school, need to call them back and tell them I was wrong, that I’ll do whatever they want.
I pry myself away from Luke, searching around for my phone, but he stops me by grabbing my hands again.
“Isaac, stop. Breathe first.”
I listen to him this time, following the rhythm he sets until my breathing evens out, and then his arm is around me again.
“They’re going to make me leave.”
I finally manage to get it out and the way Luke’s face drops makes me wish I hadn’t.
“What?”
“They found brochures for other unis. I told them I don’t want to go to Oxford.”
“Oh, Isaac.” He squeezes my shoulder, pulling me closer to him. I rest my head on his shoulder, squeezing my eyes shut.
“I don’t know what to do.”
The phone rings again, and I press myself further into Luke’s shoulder. I’m probably hurting him, but he doesn’t say anything. The sound stops. When I lift my head to look at him, he shows me the black screen.
“I’ve switched it off. You can talk to them tomorrow when they’ve calmed down.”
“What if they don’t? They sounded serious, Luke. I messed up really bad.”
“We’ll figure it out tomorrow. For now, just think about yourself. We can still go and meet the girls for your birthday, or we can just stay here. It’s up to you.”
“I don’t want to see them.”
“Okay, I’ll tell them something came up.”
“What if they do it, Luke?”
“They won’t,” he reassures me, and I try to believe him, but I’m struggling.
For the next few hours, I keep panicking, and Luke keeps calming me down.
He doesn’t leave my side for the whole night.
When I wake up the next day, I try to convince myself the entire situation was just a bad nightmare, but Luke’s leg thrown over mine as he’s covered with the whole blanket tells me it was real. I shove him off me to wake him up, and he groans before rolling out of the bed. He tells me that he’s going back to his room to get ready for classes and that he’ll meet me at breakfast, and then I’m alone again.
I distract myself by getting ready, pulling my focus to anything else that I can as I get dressed in my uniform and pack my bag. But when I leave my room, I can’t help the nagging feeling in my head that I’m forgetting something. I brush it off, though, knowing that my head is full of so many other things right now, and it’ll probably come back to me later.
The walk to the dining hall feels endless as I think about the argument with my parents and the threat now looming over my head. Luke took my phone with him, and I know I need to get it back from him as soon as possible so that I can call my parents and convince them to let me stay.
“Isaac.”
I turn around and Violet’s there and suddenly I remember what I was forgetting. I can’t even describe the expression on her face because it’s one I’ve never seen before - it looks like crushing disappointment.
“Violet.” My voice is low and hoarse as it hits me that I forgot the most important day of the year, the day that’s always made me the happiest for the past few years. I can’t believe I’ve done this to her.
“Where were you?”
She steps closer to me, but I step back, putting distance between us because if I see the disdain on her face any closer, it’ll break me. She doesn’t stay away, though, and she closes the distance between us, holding on to my arm as she drags me away from everyone else and to the side of the dining hall.
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“I…”
Her hands are folded across her chest like she’s closing herself off from me, and it’s what I deserve. I should have known I’d end up disappointing her eventually, that it’s all I’m capable of doing.
“I was busy,” I tell her because I can’t say the truth. I can’t say that my parents want to take me away from her, and I don’t know if we can keep doing this.
“You couldn’t even text me?”
“Luke had my phone.”
“Are you just going to keep making excuses?” She sounds angry, and it’s the first time I’ve ever heard her speak like this. My soft-spoken Violet is gone, replaced with someone who hates me as much as I hate myself.
“I don’t know what you want from me, Violet.”
Everyone wants so much from me all the time, and I’m cracking under the pressure. I thought it was disappointment on her face before, but the way she’s looking at me now like she doesn’t know who I am, makes me realise I’ve ruined everything between us. But it’s better this way, better to end it now while she still has time to follow her own dreams without me dragging her down.
“I want an explanation. I waited in that room for an hour, Isaac. I called you, and you didn’t answer. I thought something terrible had happened, and I couldn’t even ask anyone because no one knows about us.”
“Maybe that’s for the best.”
“What?”
There’s so much I want to tell her.
There’s no future for us anymore.
I’ll just keep disappointing you.
I don’t know how to have everything I want, and it’s killing me.
Instead, what comes out is, “I think we should break up.”
Her mouth drops open, but she doesn’t say anything, just stares at me with disbelief and something else in her eyes that I can’t quite name.
“Why would you say that?” she whispers, her eyes flitting across my face for any hint that I might be kidding. But I’m not, and I keep a straight face, force my chin to stop quivering, and blink enough times that the tears clear from my eyes.
I shrug my shoulders, knowing that if I speak, I won’t be able to disguise the lump in my throat or hold back the tears that threaten to spill out.
“What the fuck was the point of it all, then?”
She throws her hands up, anger and hatred clear on her face.
But I can’t answer her without lying, and I’ve already told the worst lie I could. I don’t want to break up with her, I want her with me for the rest of my life. But I don’t know how to keep juggling all the parts of my life to make everyone around me happy.
When the silence has stretched on too long, and I’m staring down at the floor, I hear her rummaging through her bag and then a box is being shoved into my chest.
“Take your gift. I don’t want to owe you anything.”
I look down at the set of markers in my hand, an expensive brand that I’ve been saving up for a while, and now I definitely can’t look at her. She strides past me, and without even thinking about it, my hand is around her wrist.
I want her to stay, want to tell her that I didn’t mean it and that I’m sorry for disappointing her, but I don’t get the chance.
“Fuck you, Isaac.” She shakes my hand off, and all I can do is watch her walk away as I clutch the markers close to my chest.
“I know I should have just told you what was going on. I wanted to take it back as soon as I said it, but I knew it was too late. I tried to find you, but then I heard you were sick and went home early, so I didn’t know what to do. I’m sorry, Violet. I’m just so sorry.”
She hasn’t said a word the entire time I’ve been explaining what happened, and I don’t expect her to either. We’ve been putting off this conversation for so long, but now it’s all finally out in the open, and it’s a lot for her to process at once. I’ve told my side and tried to explain it as best as I can, and I know it might not be enough, but all I can do is wait and see where she wants to go from here.