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Rated: 13+ · Chapter · Fantasy · #1964992
Very rough draft start of... something. Stupidly expository, but posting motivates me :)
JoJo clicked play on her laptop, prompting the mournful strains of Janis Ian's 'At Seventeen' to echo around her empty bedroom. Even two weeks after moving in, it still looked pretty threadbare; a single bed with disarrayed blankets, that old, battered vanity table they'd picked up at a garage sale, and crudely marked cardboard boxes overflowing with junk which she had yet to unpack - much to her father's distress.

"Why can't you just suck it up and do it?" was his constant refrain. "Then, it'll be done!"

"Thanks for that, dad. I had literally no idea that it would be done if I did it. Cleared that right up, you have."

JoJo never understood her father's insistence upon stating the obvious, from "it won't always be like this" to the perennial favourite "moaning about it's not going to fix it". Did he think JoJo didn't realise these things? Or did he just genuinely fail to grasp the fact that it didn't matter if things were going to get better eventually, or if it was useless to moan - sometimes she just wanted some bloody sympathy, goddamn it. Wasn't that what parents were for?

We all play the game, and when we dare
We cheat ourselves at solitaire

JoJo sang along to the familiar refrain, actually chuckling a little at the painful aptness of the words. I may be a few months off seventeen, she thought, but boy do my payments due exceed accounts received. Janis, you got that one right, my girl.

It wasn't a wholly unfair thought. Of course, one shouldn't compare oneself with others, but what other way is there for a sixteen-year-old to determine what the world ought to be like? What she should have? And from looking around her, JoJo felt that she was definitely getting the roach of the joint in many respects. To start with, there was the obvious: Most kids had two parents.

It'd been over a year since JoJo's mother, Louisa – or Lou, as the family had always called her – had finally succumbed to lung cancer. Whenever anyone brought it up, JoJo simply shrugged her familiar refrain: “Shit happens.” People kept expecting her to be sad, and she wished she could be – surely that was the normal reaction? But JoJo was angry. Why have a kid if you're going to keep smoking? Why even start smoking if you're planning on reproducing? Either way, thought JoJo, Lou had gotten it wrong, and now here was JoJo, stuck with a clueless father and an elder brother who was taking it all even worse than his sister.

James, or Jimmy as he was known to everyone who wasn't angry with him at the time, was eighteen, two years older than JoJo, though you'd never know it from his reaction to Lou's death. At first, he had gone completely AWOL, missing the funeral and spending weeks at a time crashing on friends' couches just to get out of the house. He said the place reminded him too much of the mother he'd lost: Lou teaching him his first guitar chords on the front porch; Lou frying up four big fat steaks in the well-stocked kitchen; Lou, tucking him into bed every night until adolescence drove a wall between them, a wall which was only just starting to come down when... Lou.

So now, here they all were: new house, new start. JoJo had fought tooth and nail to move to a new town, a new country – anything to get her away from that bloody school, but for once her father had been firm, as they stood together in their old kitchen.

'It wouldn't be fair to make you move school when you're just about to start your AS levels.'

'But that's the perfect time! I've just finished one thing, and now I'm going onto another – might as well be somewhere else.'

'I know it looks that way, but honey-'

'It is that way! I know loads of people who are going off to college for sixth form – Georgie, Sam, that weird albino kid...'

'Don't call him weird. There's no such thing as normal.' JoJo could tell that was automatic, a parental reflex that didn't even register in her dad's mind. 'Anyway, since when do you care what everyone else is doing? If they're all leaving, I'd have thought you'd want to stay, isn't that how it normally-'

'Well yeah, if they were all leaving, obviously. But they're not, that's the whole point. Meg and Chrissy and all that lot are staying, don't you see? That's exactly why I need to go. I can't stand another second of their stupid giggling, let alone another two years!'

'And you think they don't have gigglers at college? Jaybird, I wish I could tell you that was true – that it was all a phase – but it's just not,' JoJo was about to interrupt but he pushed on: 'I'm sorry, but it's not. Most of the women in my office are over thirty, and y'know what?' He boldly held out against the ensuing silence, to be rewarded with a sullen:

'What?'

'They all still do it. Still sit around in their little cliques, still don't seem to be able to take bathroom breaks on their own. I tend to just tune out, but I wouldn't be surprised if they're still talking about shoes and make-up either. Some people are just like that, Jaybird, and you're gonna have to get used to it one of these days. I'm sorry you haven't... I mean, it's really unfair on you that... You should have someone to talk about the girly things with...' he trailed off lamely.

'Oh not this again. There is such a thing as the internet, y'know. It's not like I'm some poor little Amish girl who doesn't understand why she won't stop bleeding!' JoJo grinned into her hand as her crude example had the desired effect; a fleeting wince crossed her father's face. No-one but her could have spotted it, but then she'd had years of practice in trying to prove that his seemingly eternal patience did in fact have a limit. The slight twitching in his right cheek revealed that he wasn't far from that limit now, so JoJo thought it best to press her advantage; she knew from experience that only an explosion would result in the kind of contrition that could convince him to alter his moving plans.

'But look,' she said, turning away to fill up the kettle while she recomposed her face, 'Can't we please have one serious conversation without it being all about mum?' Taking her father's heavy sigh as a response, she continued:

'I just really don't understand why you think it's so important for me to go to the same school. I mean Jimmy'll probably go off to uni somewhere, or ponce about in Asia for a few years or something – it doesn't matter to him where we are – and you work at home, for god's sake! It's not like you can't write your stupid manuals wherever you are, so you are literally only doing this for my benefit... Only it doesn't bloody well benefit me, does it?!' Ha! Swearing. The hot button. That would definitely do it.

… Only it didn't. At exactly the point at which her father should have been going red in the face and calling her 'Joanna', probably with an excess of hand movement, he instead sagged down into a kitchen chair looking utterly defeated. JoJo was shocked to realise that she was looking at an old man. In the nine months since his wife's death, he had aged more quickly than ever before; the skin on his face hung like curtains below exhausted eyes, and his hands hands trembled slightly as he swept them through his greying hair in exasperation.

'I... Just... Can't you just try to see it from my point of view, Jaybird?' He finally managed, unable to look her in the eye. 'I know you lost a mother, and that's not something anyone your age should ever have to deal with, but, well, Jamie lost a mother too, and I, um, I...'

'Lost a wife,' finished JoJo, softly.

'Yes, I mean, thankyou, yes.'

Doug had no idea how to have this conversation, the very one he'd hoped to avoid.

'And now,' he continued, 'here I am, trying to do my best for the two of you, but I... I just didn't think I'd be doing this alone.'

'You're not alone, dad, you have us: Jamie and, and me.'

'Oh, I know, Jaybird, and believe me, I wouldn't be getting through this at all without you. But I can't be relying on you two, you're supposed to be able to rely on me, and I'm doing my best, I am! I know it'll never be enough, but...'

'It's more than enough, dad. I mean, of course I miss her and everything, I guess that's not going to go away, but we can make it. I mean, I know we fight a lot, but I'm glad I've still got you and me and Jamie didn't get, I dunno, put into care or something. I do want to live with you, I just genuinely don't understand why we have to stay around here.'

Doug was crying now. 'I just want to do what's best for you. I know you don't like it at that school-'

'That's an understatement!' JoJo looked down, realising as soon as she spoke that she probably wasn't helping, but Doug ignored her.

'-but running away isn't the answer. So much is changing for you, I mean sixteen is a tough enough age – especially for girls – without everything else you've had to go through... I think that Jamie's right, and it's not good for us all to be surrounded by all these memories,' he gestured helplessly around, encompassing the kitchen table where they had shared so many meals with JoJo's mother, the paintings she had chosen on the wall, and the window through which could be seen a beautiful garden that they had all planted together on happier summer afternoons. JoJo sighed deeply and blinked rapidly.

'That's what I keep saying, but if that goes for the house, surely the town-'

'No,' for once, it was Doug's turn to interrupt his daughter. 'I mean, yes, you have a point, I mean, I know Annie came to your music shows at that school, and we ate with her in most of the restaurants and everything, but' he continued firmly as JoJo looked about to butt in, 'we can't leave. I just need for something in my life to stay the same, and so do you. And it's no good saying we have each other – none of us is the same as we were a few months ago, and that's what we need: something to show us that the world is still going on, just as it was before. Don't you see JoJo? I'm sure you're old enough and mature enough now to know that if we just run away, it'll be like starting a new life. A life in which she... she...'

'Never existed.' whispered JoJo, lowering herself into the chair next to her father's.

'Yes.' he said simply, staring at his hands.'

'You think it'd be like... deleting her?'

'No! I mean, let's get one thing straight: there is nothing you, I or anyone could do to take away our memories, the way she shaped who we are, that's in us, understand? It's not going anywhere. But if we move away now, it's like... like splitting ourselves in two. Like saying “once upon a time there was a family, and it broke, and now there's just a man and two young people, but they're not the same as the people from the family; they live different lives”. They're the same lives, JoJo; we're still the same people we were with her, and if that means we have to deal with the same shitty people and shop in the same crappy shops, well, that's something we're just going to have to deal with.'

… That was when JoJo knew she had lost. Doug had never, never sworn in front of either her or Jamie before, and it was a real pet peeve of his when they did. She never quite figured out if she was compelled to concede because of his obvious bone-deep tiredness and inability to cope, or whether the feeling that he finally trusted her enough to treat her like an adult swayed her mind, but renege she did, softly and quietly, and without any of her usual teenage martyrdom.

And so they had moved, but only to the other side of the city. The new house was nicer, she had to admit, though her room's previous owner had obviously been about seven years old, and she was going to have to do something about the pink walls and butterfly murals soon. In the meantime, she had covered the walls with posters of her favourite singers and bands: The Kinks, Carole King and Elton John shared wall space with Jack Johnson, Jason Mraz and Katie Meula in an intergenerational jam session which pretty much ensured JoJo's isolation at school.

With her eclectic playlists, short purple-streaked hair and unconventional wardrobe choices, JoJo was never going to be crowned miss popular, but that in itself wasn't enough to bother her. There were a few other misfits who tolerated, if not enjoyed her presence, and she didn't really have time for most of the popular crew anyway, with their fake smiles and two-faced ways. If only they didn't find her quite so hilarious and would leave her alone, she wouldn't mind. Well, apart from Tommy.

In spite of herself, JoJo was glad that Tom Banner was staying for sixth form. Of course, nothing was ever going to happen between them; it wasn't that he hadn't noticed her, but let's face it, life was easy with his succession of pretty, flittering girls – it wasn't worth rocking the boat to check out someone as adrift from social currents as JoJo. But it still brightened her day to see him strolling through the halls with his big easy smile, or eating lunch in the cafeteria, shining all the more brightly because of the idiots he surrounded himself with. Sometimes she really wished he'd grow up.

Perhaps this year, he would. After all, in spite of staying in the same place, it was kind of a new start for both of them. JoJo knew that Tommy had done pretty badly in his GCSEs, while she herself had managed average grades with the absolute bare minimum of work. She just knew she could do better this year, and who knows, perhaps she could be a good influence on Tommy? After all, he was taking English and Psychology too, though she wasn't surprised he was giving Music a miss after his terrible performance last year, and she somehow doubted she'd be seeing him in computing science; all the less academic kids took IT instead, where they wouldn't have to bother with anything complicated like programming.

But JoJo couldn't wait to start writing her own little games. Doug had impressed on her many times the need for a backup career, and with the way the world was going, computers seemed like the way forward. Not only that, but if (if, if) she actually did manage to become a musician someday, knowing about computers could actually do her some favours there too. Hell, she could produce her own album, then it wouldn't matter that she was scrawny, or that her face went red almost any time somebody spoke to her – she could do it all from home!

First things first, she sighed to herself as she changed into her pyjamas and started transferring detritus from her bed to the floor so that she might have somewhere to sleep, got to actually get through school before I can make it as... well, as an anything. Which means I have to get through tomorrow. Oh, why can't it be all Tommy and no Meg or Chrissy? Something tells me nothing's going to change with those two this year, but who knows, maybe they'll let me get out of their way?

As she passed the vanity table on her way to turn out the light, JoJo thought she saw something move in the mirror. Assuming it was Mojo the cat, she spun around, ready for a cuddle, but the room was still and clear. Turning to put out the light, she could have sworn she saw the mirror flicker again, but both it and the room remained stubbornly motionless. I really am tired, she thought. That or anxiety about tomorrow. Well, like dad says, I guess I'm just going to have to suck it up this time.
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