Read Gone for Free Online Page B

myself in the other wee k, the one that necessitated our move to the country, that Mum and Dad may have been right. Maybe I was hanging out with the wrong people all the time. But I guess I always felt that it was best to hang with anyone then no one. I was wrong. 
    Now after our speedy move to the country Dad is freelancing his design work and the Munch Bunch get to sit around having breakfast together.
    “What time did you get home?” Mum pours me a coffee and manages to avoid all eye contact with me as she slides it across the table towards me. Look at me.
    “Not late.” I shrug. No one has mentioned me being grounded yet, or having my tuition fees taken away. Maybe I will be forgiven for slamming out of the front door last night after “Family Healing.” I hope so. I have plans today.
    “Well I stayed up until ten thirty waiting for you,” she says.
    Of course you did. “I got home at ten thirty five.”
    “Did you find your way home okay in the dark?” Emily looks at me with big frightened eyes. Emily is not a huge fan of the dark.
    “Uh, yeah I guess.”
    I am not disposed to tell them I was escorted home in the dark by a dreadlock swinging surfer.
    I did clearly state that I didn’t need help getting home. I got the help regardless. I start to smile a little thinking about the, “I don’t need help getting home,” “But you are getting help walking home,” conversation but quickly wipe the smile off my face when I catch Mum frowning at me.
    “We are going into Newquay today, would you like to come? I believe that town will be big enough for you.” Dad rustles the paper he is hiding behind. Dad has not made eye contact with me in two weeks.
    I’m about to answer when I hear a car rumbling outside the open kitchen window. I glance up at the flowery clock on the wall. This makes me stop for a moment. We have been here two days and I have not yet noticed how incredibly kitch the kitchen is. It’s all sky blue walls and yellow cupboards. Seriously, what were my parents thinking? Oh yeah. I remember what they were thinking.
    My moment of hesitation checking out the kitchen décor has delayed me from dashing out the door before the owner of the car knocks on it.
    Too late.
    Dad sighs and puts his paper down. “I’ll get it.”
    Shit.
    I take a sip of my coffee and wait for the arrival of my new ‘reason to be given a bollocking.’
    I can hear him chatting at the door but Emily distracts me from earwigging by asking, “Bex. Are you wearing flip flops?”
    I glance at my feet. Yes I am. I don’t get a chance to answer.
    “Bex needs them surfing, you can’ t surf in big boots,” a voice calls from the door. I turn to face the door and bite down on my lip to stop from smiling.
    It’s Joshua. Joshua who managed to coax my name out of me in the first five minutes of sitting next to me on the sand, even though it was the one thing I never wanted to tell anyone here.  It’s Joshua whose skin shines in the dark like he is made from the moon.
    Joshua. The worst sales person in the world. His name sounds funny in my head. Joshua. Joshua.
    “Joshua,” he says when he walks into the room and shakes my mum’s hand. He stops and glances around the kitchen, his eyes flicking over the cupboards like he knows the things that are kept behind the doors. Even I don’t know what’s kept behind them. His shoulders which I can’t help but notice are raised and tight start to relax as he looks at all our belongings scattered about. Finally he rests his eyes on me and for the moment I am rooted to the spot as I scan over his face trying to read what he sees when he looks at me. What is there to see?
    Joshua, is wearing a dark green T-shirt paired with black board shorts and flip flops. I have my mouth open.
    “We haven’t got around to decorating yet,” Mum explains waving her hands at the clutter and general living debris around the room. I kind of thought Mum would be a bit hostile to the dreadlocked