Freestyle: Chapter 4
Friday morning, I’m sitting in my bedroom when my phone vibrates. I snatch it up. It’s the academy. Fuck.
FUCK.
Drawing in a deep breath, I bite out an answer, my nerves getting the better of me. “Hello?”
“Is this Pen Scott?” a familiar voice asks. My throat dries out at the posh accent of Madame Tuillard and the deep rumble of laughter that is D-Neath in the background.
“Yes,” I squeak, my heart nearly busting out of my chest.
“Congratulations, Pen. You start at the academy on Monday.”
“Shit,” I blurt out, tears springing into my eyes. I blink them away.
“Is that a thank you?” Madame Tuillard laughs, not in the least bit perturbed by my rude arse response to being offered a place at her school.
“Fuck, yes. It’s a yes. I’m sorry. Thank you,” I ramble.
She laughs again, and I realise that it isn’t me who’s causing her so much glee, but D-Neath. I swear I can hear kissing noises now. Her laughter is more of a giggle and completely inappropriate for our conversation. She coughs, clearing her throat.
“You may or may not know that we have live-in accommodations at the academy. There are a finite number of rooms available, but for my most promising students…”
“That’s okay. I only live an hour away. I’ll just get the train,” I interrupt lamely, not sure what she’s getting at.
“Pen, you are one of my most promising students,” she clarifies.
I am? Fuck! “Thank you…” I stammer.
“So, I’d like you to move in, that way you’ll get extra time to practice your techniques in the dance studios before and after your daily classes. You will also get extra training in whatever specialism you choose.”
“You’re actually saying that you want me to stay at the academy, in my own flat?” I’m glad we’re not having this conversation face-to-face because she might be regretting her decision given I look like a complete fucking moron with my mouth wide open and tears brimming in my eyes. This is unreal.
“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m offering.”
“Will there be others too?”
“There will be other students staying. All of them have been handpicked by me. You can move in immediately.”
A thread of worry rushes through my veins. As much as I want to jump at the offer, I can’t afford to pay for my own studio flat. “I would love to, but I can’t really afford it…” My voice trails off and I feel like a fucking loser. Working at the club barely covers the cost of living with Mum, let alone a place of my own.
“There’s no charge for living in the annex, Pen. All you need to do is buy your own food. That’s it. Call it the perks of being a gifted dancer.”
“You’re kidding?”
“No, I’m perfectly serious.” Though she does let out another giggle before her voice is muffled by her hand covering the receiver. “Apologies about that, I have a very demanding colleague who wants… my attention.”
Yeah, I bet. D-Neath is well known for his womanising ways. Apparently he’s hung like a horse and had his knob tattooed whilst erect to prove what a badass he is. I’ve no issues with a tattooed dick either way, but I’d rather not have this conversation whilst they’re getting up to God knows what. Pushing all thoughts of D-Neath’s cock out of my head, I thank Madame Tuillard.
“You won’t regret your decision. I’ll work harder than anyone. I’ll do whatever it takes. I won’t let you down,” I respond in a rush, trying to drown out the sound of D-Neath making grunting noises. Is he fucking her whilst she’s on the phone? Gross.
“Good. See you Monday,” she replies, before the line goes dead.
My hands are shaking so much that I drop my mobile phone onto my lap and stare at the wall opposite my bed. “I’m in,” I whisper, not quite believing it. “I did it!”
“Did what?” my sister, Lena, asks as she enters the room with a cup of tea and a packet of Salt and Vinegar crisps dangling from her fingertips. I stare at her, unable to respond. She cocks her head to the side and squints her eyes at me. “You on something?”
“No!” I laugh a little hysterically which only causes her to raise her brows at me and give me her signature ‘yeah, right’ look.
“I swear it…”
“Hmm,” she responds, haughty little minx.
Sweet Jesus, at fourteen she’s twenty times worse than she was at ten in terms of attitude, and don’t get me started on her tidiness, or lack of it. Instead of dolls and toys littering the space, it’s make-up and clothes. She’s got a lot of stuff. Too much actually. It’s particularly suspicious especially since she’s still at school, doesn’t have a weekend job and no money to buy all this shit. Our mum barely gets paid enough in her job as a mobile hairdresser to cover the rent money, bills, and her addiction to wine, which is bordering on alcoholic, let alone my sister’s addiction to making herself look pretty. Either Lena has a sugar daddy, is running around with the Skins or is stealing it all. I’m hoping for the latter because the other two options don’t bear thinking about.
“Then what’s up with you, Pen? You look pale as fuck.” She places her mug and crisps on the dresser beside her bed and sits down next to me. “Have you thrown up again?” she asks, putting the back of her hand against my forehead to feel for a temperature. She might be a pain in my arse most of the time, but underneath it all she’s a good kid.
“No, I haven’t puked…” Well, at least not today anyway.
Over the past two days nerves have got the better of me, add to top it all off, the shock at seeing Zayn again after such a long time meant my stomach has taken the brunt of it. To make matters worse, where Zayn is, so too are the rest of my Breakers. My Breakers? Fuck. They’re not mine anymore. Inside, my heart squeezes painfully and nausea rises up my throat despite the good news.
“What is it then?” Lena persists.
Turning to face her, I push down every other thought and concentrate on the one thing that I’ve been working towards all my life. I can’t control what the Breakers do any more than I can control the actions of other criminals who run this estate. Whatever happens, happens. I’m not part of their crew anymore. Gripping her hand, I squeeze tightly and force myself to smile.
“I got into Stardom. I’m in, Lena. I’m in.”
For a moment Lena just stares at me, then she squeals loudly and throws herself into my arms. The sound is loud enough to make my mum come running.
“What the hell is going on?” she shouts, her gloved hands covered in peroxide mixture as she stands in the doorway. In the front room, Karen, our neighbour, and mum’s friend, is having her roots dyed.
“Mum, Pen got a place at the academy. She got in!”
I can’t help but smile at Lena’s enthusiasm, but my grin disappears the second my mum’s gaze lands on mine. Here we go.
“Just perfect. Now who’s going to help me pay the bills, huh? Did you think of that before you went swanning off to audition after I strictly forbade it?”
“Mum!” Lena snaps, but I reach for her arm, squeezing gently.
“I’m an adult. You can’t stop me from doing anything.”
“Need I remind you that you live under my roof, so you follow my rules. Call them back and tell them you’re not taking the spot.” She glares at me and I wonder, not for the first time, why she hates me so fucking much.
“No.”
“No?!” she spits, her face turning pink with anger. “Do as you’re damn well told or find yourself somewhere else to live.”
I get up, my body vibrating with anger as a huge well of sadness opens up inside my chest. “I’m moving out. I’ve been given a studio flat to stay at in the academy,” I say tightly, flicking my gaze to Lena who bites her lip. I hate leaving her, but what else can I do?
“You selfish little bitch!” Mum hisses, her nostrils flaring as she flicks her gaze down the hall. On the surface Mum’s a nice, regular, church going woman who’s brought her kids up without a husband but under the watchful eye of God. Yet, no one has any idea just how fucking evil she really is beneath the bullshit façade.
“Me, selfish?” I splutter, unable to hide the hurt I feel. “David chose a life of crime. He barely checks in with you from one month to the next and you’re telling me I’m selfish when all I’ve done is hold this family together and work my arse off so that you can feed your forty a day cigarette habit and get pissed every other night at the local pub? David has only ever cared about himself. He’s incapable of giving a shit about anyone else given he’s a fucking maniac!”
“Shut the hell up, Penelope,” she snarls through gritted teeth, peering nervously down the hall.
Oh, yeah, I forgot that we can’t talk about the fact that David is high up in the drug trafficking set-up the Skins have got going and is a fucking psycho to boot. I’m glad he’s not living here anymore and has fucked off to Mexico. At least Lena’s safe from harm. That’s all that matters.
“What’s wrong Mum? Afraid the neighbours will learn your son doesn’t work undercover for the goddamn Met Police like you keep telling them and is in fact the prick everyone thinks he is?”
“I’m warning you, Penelope. Shut your mouth!” she hisses.
“Mum, Pen’s right. David’s no good…” Lena says, attempting to back me up. Mum rounds on her, her eyes narrowing.
“David does his bit. He sends money home. At least he has a future.”
“A future? Are you fucking kidding me? Do you actually live in cloud-fucking-cuckoo-land? The only future David has is an empty cell waiting for him at Her Majesty’s pleasure, because sooner or later he’s gonna be locked up, Mum, and I’ll be dancing all over Hackney when that day comes!”
“Enough!” she snaps. “They won’t ever be able to catch him because he’s not stupid enough to come home. Now, grab your crap and get the hell out of my flat. Do not expect to come crawling back here when all your plans go to shit and whoever offered you a place realises their mistake.”
“Mum, please…” Lena begs, her eyes welling.
I look at my sister and shake my head. “It’s okay. This was always gonna happen.”
Mum scoffs, then stabs me in the heart with her words. “I should’ve aborted you when I had the chance.”
“Tell that to your God,” I bite back, pointing to the silver cross that hangs around her throat, identical to the one David wears. “I’m sure He’d have something to say about it! Then again He hasn’t helped me all those times you’ve beaten me over the years, so I don’t suppose he would’ve given a fuck if you’d aborted me like you wish you had.”
“Get out of my house,” she repeats, before turning on her feet and leaving me bleeding out on the floor.
Lena’s hand flies to her mouth, tears pricking her eyes, but I refuse to cry. Not this time. Not anymore. “I can’t believe she just said that.”
“It’s not the first time,” I admit. Mum has always been so careful not to say those hateful words in front of Lena or any of her friends. Not today. She’s dug the knife in and twisted.
“I hate her.”
“You don’t. She loves you,” I heave a sigh, beyond jealous. For a long time I was envious of my sister because Mum doted on her so much. Even David tolerated Lena, never once laying a hand on her, mainly because Mum wouldn’t let him, and he had me to lay into whenever he felt the need. I can’t begrudge Lena Mum’s love. I wouldn’t wish this feeling of worthlessness on anyone, especially not my little sister. Aside from my friendship with the Breakers, she’s been the only bright thing in my life. At least I still have her.
“I don’t care. As soon as I’m eighteen I’m getting out of here, Pen. I can’t stand her.”
“If I could take you with me, I would. You know that, right?”
She nods her head. “Yeah, I know…”
I open my arms and she walks right into them, holding me close as she buries her head in the crook of my neck. “I’m proud of you, Pen, even if Mum isn’t. I don’t understand what her problem is…”
“I don’t know either, Lena.”
The truth is mum has always hated me. As far back as I can remember she’s looked at me like I’m nothing but a disappointment. Maybe it’s because she had us so young. Getting pregnant at fourteen with David, then at eighteen with me, must’ve been hard, especially when our father walked out on us a few weeks after my birth. But I’ve always tried to be a good kid. I went to school, I worked hard, and I stayed out of trouble. It’s why I took up dance instead of following in my brother’s footsteps. Despite that, she still dotes on him even though she hates me. At least she loves Lena. I don’t think I would’ve been able to leave her alone with mum if she treated her the same way as she’s treated me over the years.
“Make sure you call me every night, yeah?” Lena asks, sniffling. She pulls back, rubbing at her pretty blue eyes. They’re such a lovely shade of light blue, the complete opposite to my murky brown ones.
“Every night. I promise.”
“Are you going now?”
“Yeah. I don’t think I have a choice.”
Lena smiles sadly. “At least this time you’re not running away, and I’ll be able to see you when I want, right?”
I gulp down the sudden ball of anxiety in my throat as my hands begin to shake. “You remember that time?”
“Of course I remember. I cried the whole week you were gone.”
“You never said anything at the time… or after.”
“I didn’t want to bring it up. I thought you’d run away again if I did. So I pretended that I believed the story Mum made up about you going to stay with your dad for a week. We all knew that wanker fucked-off and started a new life somewhere else not long after you were born.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry.”
Lena gives me a brave smile and a brief hug. “It’s okay, I understand why you ran. Mum’s always so mean to you. Honestly, I’ve often wondered over the years why you didn’t do it again.”
I breathe out slowly, willing myself to keep hold of the secret about what really happened the night I ran away. Plastering on a fake smile, I grin at my sister and make light of the situation. “Yeah, I’ve often wondered why too. Perhaps it’s Mum’s amazing Sunday roasts that stopped me,” I joke.
Lena rolls her eyes. “Let’s face it, her cooking is enough to send anyone running.”
We both burst out laughing, and whilst on the outside I’m smiling, on the inside I’m dying a little. That night changed everything for me, in more ways than one.