The End of the World Is Bigger Than Love by Davina Bell

Author:Davina Bell [Bell, Davina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781925923353
Google: sMDMDwAAQBAJ
Publisher: Text Publishing
Published: 2020-06-01T23:00:00+00:00

Summer

‘There’s something I haven’t told you,’ I said to Mikie quietly. ‘It’s not…It’s not something that’s easy to talk about. But I guess it might give you a little more context for the whole situation with Winter and me.’

‘Is it a sexually transmitted disease?’ asked Mikie. ‘Because everyone gets one sometime, kid. No shame.’

‘Urgh, no!’ I said, completely disgusted. ‘Where would I even have got that? I’m not old enough for that stuff.’ Truth be told, though, by then I probably was.

‘Only takes one time without—’

‘La la la la la la la,’ I sang, my hands over my ears.

‘Prude,’ said Mikie, a smile in his voice.

‘I was trying to tell you something serious,’ I said crossly, ‘but I don’t even think I’ll bother now.’

‘Suit yourself,’ said Mikie. ‘Your loss. I’ve been told I’m an excellent listener.’

And dagnabbit, he was right, and that’s why I told him anyway, even though it meant going back and correcting some untruths, like unravelling knitting.

‘It’s about our parents,’ I said. ‘Our dad.’

‘Unsurprising,’ said Mikie. ‘Show me a girl who doesn’t have daddy issues.’

‘Really? Even under the sea?’

‘Oh yeah,’ said Mikie. ‘Mermaids—they’re just singing with ’em. Literally. Why do you think they’re off luring ships? Sea captains are total father figures and mermaids are just gagging for someone to project their issues onto.’

‘Interesting,’ I said, thinking of Winter and the tall, manly bear, his muscly chest, his swagger that wasn’t so different from a sailor’s, and what I was about to say next, which seemed kind of heavy compared to the ground we’d just covered.

‘Spit it out, kid,’ Mikie said with a yawn. ‘I’m all ears.’

‘How do you guys hear? Is it that echolocation jazz?’

‘You’re just changing the subject now.’

And I was, because I hadn’t told this to anyone—never said the words out loud. I had kept it shut away so I wouldn’t hurt Winter, which is kind of ironic, given how much she’d just hurt me.

‘There is a place,’ I said slowly. ‘There is a place—there was a place. In America, when it used to be America. I think there were lots of them, but I only heard about this particular one on a podcast once. We listened to a lot of podcasts.’

‘I was more of a Netflix man myself,’ said Mikie unnecessarily.

‘It was a house where kids go when their parents have died, and they can play out all their grief, know what I mean? They can, like, hit things with rubber mallets and roll around on foam blocks, pretending they’re being shot out of a volcano. They can scream really loud. No one cares. It’s the whole point. I think it’s called the Sharing House—something warm and fuzzy like that.’

‘You went there?’ Mikie asked, more gently now. ‘Your mother…?’

‘Nope,’ I said. ‘Anyway, there was a special support group there for children whose parents had…you know.’ I waited, hoping I wouldn’t have to say.

‘Ah, but I don’t,’ said Mikie. ‘Give me the specifics, kid.’

‘Whose parents had killed themselves,’ I whispered, and then I cleared my throat and gave a small cough and kept going, louder.

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