Everything We Keep by Di Walker (inspirational books .TXT) 📕

don’t want to be late.’ For a split-second Agatha just stood and watched Tully walk away.

‘Come on Agatha!’ Tully had stopped and smiled to her friend.

English class went quickly as they plotted and planned their essay. It wasn’t long before they were back at their lockers packing to go home. ‘I can’t believe I have to go to tennis training tonight,’ moaned Cora. ‘It’s like a thousand degrees outside.’

‘Well I was going to go for a bike ride with Dad, but he sent me a message saying he’s stuck at work and it’s going to rain,’ Tully said, looking at her phone. ‘But he’s also taking me and Ike out for pizza – see, Agatha, upside.’

‘I am about three chapters behind in Maths,’ said Morgan, ‘so I know what I’ll be doing. What’ve you got planned Agatha?’

Agatha shrugged, ‘I don’t know. Nothing really.’

‘Oh, I wish that was my life,’ said Morgan.

With their bags packed, they weaved their way down the hallway, and out into the hot afternoon sun.

When she found Katherine waiting in her car near the gate, Agatha put her schoolbag on the back seat and opened the passenger door. ‘I think I might walk home, Katherine, if that’s okay.’

‘Are you sure, Agatha? It’s still hot and I think it’s going to rain.’

‘I’ll be fine Katherine, really. I just need to walk for a bit. I won’t be long. Promise.’

‘Did something happen?’

‘No – that’s just it, nothing happened.’

Katherine seemed to hesitate for a moment and then nodded. ‘Okay. I’ll have a snack waiting for you. You have your phone. Call me if you change your mind. I’ll come and get you.’

Agatha didn’t reply. She didn’t tell Katherine that her phone was still in her schoolbag. She closed the car door and began walking up the street.

Cars came, collected students and went quickly. She didn’t notice Tully wave as her mum’s car headed for home. She didn’t see Cora and Morgan over near the bus stop, sheltering under a tree for shade. She had a feeling that she didn’t recognise, that she wanted to shake but she didn’t know how or why.

‘What’s wrong with me,’ she said out loud, over and over. Agatha put her head down, letting her hair fall down the sides of her face and marched on.

40

Agatha knew the way home but that’s not the way she went. She just kept walking. Crossing at corners, turning left, then right.

The storm clouds loomed overhead, not that Agatha noticed. Large, warm drops fell from the clouds, dotting the footpath in front of her, hitting the top of her head, falling on her back. Putting her head down, the drops of rain formed little streams that ran down the strands of hair. She kept walking. She could hear the voice of her mother as she searched for something that was lost and the sobs of her father as he tried to forgive himself. Nell and Katherine, so sure this school would be fine, and finally Tully and her never wavering friendship. It all swirled around in Agatha’s mind – black dots, the whole page.

When she finally looked up, she found herself a block from the train station. She could hear the trains rattle along, hurrying to get their passengers home. She walked towards it.

Reaching the station, she stopped at the bus shelter out front, the one no buses ever stopped at. The rain was gaining strength, beginning to swirl as the wind picked up. Agatha moved to the shelter and watched the water cascade along the gutter. It gathered up leaves and bits of rubbish and washed them away.

People came and went, running through the rain, running to get home, or to catch a train, no time to worry about the girl seeking shelter from the rain. The afternoon wore on and the storm settled in. The darkness of the clouds, the sheets of rain and the approaching evening gave Agatha a blanket of darkness to hide under.

She wasn’t sad. She wasn’t cold. She wasn’t anything.

This isn’t about them, she thought, any of them. Agatha stood up and paced back and forward staying under the shelter but stepping in the puddles that had formed.

‘This isn’t about them,’ she said aloud. ‘This is about me.’ She sat down on the damp bench, tired and depleted.

A car pulled up in front of her, its headlights shining through the rain, through the strands of damp hair that were now stuck to the sides of Agatha’s face. Agatha put her hands up to cover her eyes. She could hear the engine running, the wipers working to clear the rain. She heard footsteps, splashing through the water on the ground.

‘Agatha? Are you alright?’

The dark outline of a figure stood between her and the glaring lights. She lowered her hands and pushed her hair back, blinking to clear her vision. She looked at the shoes in front of her. She couldn’t answer.

‘Agatha? You’re soaking wet. Come with me. I’ll take you home.’

‘I don’t have a home. I’m not good enough to have a home. Why wasn’t I good enough for them to love me, to keep going?’

‘Come on.’ A hand reached out for her. ‘Let’s get out of this storm.’

‘No one understands,’ Agatha cried. ‘No one understands what it’s like to be the one left behind.’

‘Take my hand.’

‘I don’t know how to fix them. I’m not good enough, not smart enough.’

‘You’re wrong. I know you’re wrong. You’re not defined by who your parents are, Agatha. You have to trust yourself. Now come on, come with me. Take my hand.’

‘All this time I thought it was my fault . . . ’

‘But it wasn’t. Come with me. Take my hand.’

Agatha looked at the hand being held out in front of her.

‘I just want to be normal, for them to be normal.’

‘You are. Now take my hand.’

Agatha gave in. She reached out and took the outstretched hand that immediately closed around hers. The hand pulled her up and took her to the car. When the passenger