Page 85 of Malaise

TWENTY-FIVE

Even the sunknows not to show its face today. I wake in the motel room with Tanya on the bed beside me for the second morning in a row. She’s hung out since dropping me off in the early hours of Sunday morning, probably as reluctant to go home as I am to be alone. The entire day yesterday was spent watching shitty movies on the small flat screen in the motel room, and grazing the three pizzas we’d ordered in as comfort food. We talked about mindless things to keep our focus off Carver and what today brings: her friends, what I’d planned to do after school before all of this happened, right down to where she shops online for most of her clothes. Not that any of it really helped.

The smell of Carver on the sheets, the memories of our first night shared here.... If I thought mourning Den was hard, this is something new entirely.

With Den, I know he’s gone. I can let myself cry it out because there’s no changing what happened. It’s final, and I have no choice but to make peace with that.

But the void from Carver?

The hope—it’s poisonous. It keeps the wound fresh, not allowing me to resolve this in my mind. Not when the outcome could go two very different ways. It’s infinitely worse knowing that there’s equal chance he could come home with us on bail today, or be remanded for God only knows how long behind bars awaiting trial.

The preliminary hearing is this afternoon at the small courthouse in Whitecaps. At least he hasn’t been transferred to the main court in the city. I can’t deny that I’m hoping it’s an indication of how non-severe they see his case to be. It’s all up to the judge today whether he’s granted bail awaiting trial or not.

“You’ve gotta eat, honey.” Tanya gives my plate of toast a nudge to draw my attention away from my thoughts.

“I know.” I pick up a piece of the jam-covered bread and stare at it. “I just can’t wait for today to be over.”

“Me either.”

We eat in silence, sharing the small round side table in the corner of the room. I’ve got a shift at the supermarket tonight, but I know already I’ll be useless at it. Thank heavens my next exam isn’t until tomorrow. Still, my mind’s going to be elsewhere no matter what the result this afternoon. If Carver’s out, I’ll want to be with him, and if he’s remanded, I’ll be a right fucking mess.

I could call in sick and take the day off work, but I know I won’t. If I’m to make it on my own I’m going to need money, and there’s only one way I can get it: work.

Tanya watches as I stand and work my way around the room, pulling open the drawers and cupboards one by one. “What are you looking for?”

“Some paper and a pen I could use.”

She points over to the bedside table. “Try beside the phone. What do you need it for?”

“I want to work some things out, like a budget and that.”

“Random.” She pops the last bite of her toast in her mouth and stands from the table, plate in hand. “Can I help at all?”

I want to say no; I’m so sick of having to be helped with everything. Still, she’s more or less managing this “adulting” thing how I’d like to, and knows what to expect. “Yeah, probably.” I draw up a header at the top and start writing down the expected costs of living on my own. “I’ve got rent, food, power, phone, and clothes. What else?”

“Insurance for your things,” she says. “And are you going to buy a car?”

“Probably not.” Public transport goes most places around here.

“Well, even so, you’ll need to allow bus money.”

I add that in.

“And savings. You have to save for the unexpected. Doctors, time off work, that kind of thing.”

I nod, adding the final expense to the list. She helps me work through the average amounts I should expect to need to set aside, and when I tally it up I could cry. The amount required is twice what I earn.

“I’m never going to be able to do this.” I drop my head to the table between my folded arms. “Urgh.”

“Did you factor in benefits?”

“Huh?”

Tanya nods with a small smile on her pink painted lips. “I know some people think benefits should be treated like a dirty little secret, but they’re there to help people like you get a head start.”

We spend a good half hour scrolling through the calculators on the government website that estimate what I can expect to get in assistance. If I wasn’t turning eighteen in a couple of weeks, I’d do a lot better, but what they offer is at least something to help me keep afloat… as long as I can find rent cheap enough.

“I might have to room with someone,” I say, scrolling through the listings for rentals in the area on my phone. “Whitecaps is more expensive than I thought.”