Her

53

PHOENIX

7pm. I'm lying on my bed, parts of the contract in my hands, Aza in my head. I sigh. I'm not sure what happened at school, and I'm not sure if I should text her. I keep telling myself to do it, but then I tell myself to wait for her to do it first. Maybe she is telling herself the same thing, because I haven't got any message from her.

"What are you doing?"

"Mum?" I sit up.

"That's the contract," she says, her green eyes moving over the papers neatly spilled on my bed. "Right?"

"Right."

"You still haven't signed?"

I shake my head.

She hesitates. Then she says, "Because of Ky?"

In my head, I replace the name 'Ky' with 'Aza'. I half nod, half shrug.

She looks at me. "Is that his sweater you're wearing?"

Technically, it is. The green big sweater I'm wearing was once Ky's, who gave it to Aza, who gave it to me. I nod, feeling a little guilty.

"Do you think I should sign?" I say, before I can stop myself.

My mother looks at me for a moment, as though seeing me for the first time. "I think it is a very great opportunity. And," she sighs, "if you're serious about acting - yes. I think you should sign the contract."

"So you're telling me to sign it?"

"I'm not telling you anything." There's a pause. "You're old enough, and I daresay smart enough, to make your own decisions. Besides," there's a very small smile on her face, "you never listen to me anyway." The smile fades. "You stopped doing that at the age of ten."

At the age of ten - that was when I found out about my mother cheating on my father. "That's not true," I say, knowing full well that it is true. "Sometimes I listen to you, when you give some good advice." I pause. "Which isn't even that rarely," I murmur, more to myself than to her.

"I don't blame you," she says, so quietly that I wonder whether she did say it. She clears her throat. "Perhaps, you should talk to Ky. Make him see how important it is to you."

"Oh it's not that. Sh-" I half sneeze, half cough. "He knows how important it is to me. He actually wants me to take the deal."

"Then where is the problem?"

Right in front of you, I think. I say nothing, but she seems to be able to read the answer off my face. She gives me a very strange look, something like disbelief, pity, and interest.

"You think I'm being foolish," I say, "don't you?"

"No," she says. "It's a great opportunity, Phoenix. And France - it's not that far away from England."

"But it's not England."

"No, it's not."

"And America..."

"You wouldn't be stuck there forever, Phoenix. And I'm sure he'd visit you." She pauses. "As I would," she says. "He could go with me. Then I might finally get to know him."

I say nothing. I wonder if she'd make the same offer for Aza. Would she want to travel with her, my girlfriend? For a moment, I get this urge to tell my mother the truth. But I swallow it down.

"Well," she says, "think about it." Her face changes, her lips press together. "It's not as though you don't have enough time to do so, seeing you're suspended."