Catriona swallowed the last bite of her chicken, wiped her mouth, and stood up from the table. Her dad was out of town and thirty tense minutes alone with her mom, getting grilled about what all of her friends were doing next year, was all she could take. She wanted to be alone now. She swivelled on sock feet to turn and face the door to the hallway.
“Help clear the dishes before disappearing, miss,” her mom said. “And a ‘thank you for supper’ wouldn’t kill you, either.”
Catriona doubled back and opened the dishwasher, mumbling, “Thanks.”
“Finish your university applications?” Her mom carried dishes from the table to counter.
Catriona groaned and loaded the plates into the dishwasher. She knew her mom had been tiptoeing around this conversation while they were eating. She tried to be cool, but she was so obvious about stuff like this.
“Yep. Finished today,” Catriona lied. She’d downloaded some applications off various websites but hadn’t gotten farther than that. Had her mom been snooping on her laptop?
She put the last glass in the dishwasher and stood straight, her hands on her hips. “Can I be done? I need to go study for my test.”
Her mom ignored her request. “Want me to proofread those applications before you send them?”
“Nah. I’m good. Stop being such a helicopter parent, Mom.” Catriona went to the fridge and opened the door so the air inside might cool off her reddening face.
“Close that door. You’re wasting energy. And if you haven’t actually started filling them out, there’s no time like the present.” Her mom swung the dishwasher door shut and the cutlery rattled inside.
Catriona turned her back to the fridge and they faced one another across the kitchen’s island. “Oh my God, Mom, get off my freakin’ back!” Catriona stormed off to her bedroom. “It’s my life. Let me live it!” she yelled before slamming the door, flopping facedown on her bed, and pounding her legs and fists on her mattress.
God, this year sucked. Her marks had slipped from straight As to a B average, everyone was hooking up except her, and it was all she could do not to bite the head off the next person who asked her what her plans were for next year. She’d tried meditation, yoga, and even smoking weed, but nothing helped her relax. She was constantly unsettled and jittery. It was draining. She went to the bathroom, dropped a bath bomb into the tub, and filled it with water, but she was restless even when lying in the fizzy pink water and afterward tossed around on top of her bed.
Hours later, Catriona stood on a stage staring at three doors. She twirled her straight brown hair with her index finger and pushed her glasses up higher on the bridge of her nose.
“Which door will it be, Catriona: door one, door two, or door three?” the game show host asked with a forced smile. A spark flew off one of his gleaming white teeth and she heard it make a high-pitched “ping” sound. “These are the doors to your future. Choose carefully so you can live out the rest of your life in the most fulfilling way possible.”
They were identical plain grey doors. Catriona rolled her eyes at the game show host so hard that when the camera zoomed in for a close-up of her face, all that was visible to the television audience were the white parts of her eyes ribboned with red spider veins.
“I’d like to peek behind each of the doors, please.”
“Sorry, Catriona. The rules don’t allow it. But I can give you a hint, sweetheart. One door will take you off Cape Breton for school and then work and you’ll never move back. One door will keep you here on the Island working at bingo indefinitely and growing more and more afraid of ever leaving. And the third is a trick door with more doors behind it. It leads to more choices about what to study, where to live, who to love….” The sound of corn popping interrupted the host. “Time is almost up, Catriona. What will it be?”
The studio audience started shouting. “Door one!” “Choose door three!” “Two two two!”
Catriona wanted all the noise to stop. The popcorn sound continued and the doors began to tremble.
“You have to choose. Choose now. Now!” The game show host was no longer smiling. His face was mere centimetres from Catriona’s own and he was staring at her with glowing green eyes. Spittle flew from his mouth and landed on Catriona’s shirt.
Pop-pop-pop-pop-pop. The grey doors exploded and shards of wood spewed all over the stage. Catriona bolted up in bed and threw off the covers. She reached for her iPhone on her bedside table and slid the power button off so the alarm would stop popping. She’d have to hurry or she’d miss the school bus.
“Hey,” Seamus said. “’Sup?”
Catriona looked up from her social studies book and saw her friend weaving his way up the aisle toward her like he did every school day. There were no surprises on this route. Same kids, same shuffle and slump into the same seats, same lingering smell of Axe Body Spray and cherry lip balm, day after day. Catriona’s was a window seat close to the front. When she leaned back she felt the familiar ragged crack in the backrest scratch her spine. The only mystery for Catriona each day on the bus ride was what everyone would be wearing.
“Study for the test?” Catriona gestured at her ragged social studies book as Seamus slid into the seat next to her. They were learning about the Middle East, and the long, complicated history of conflict there. It sounded like a hot mess, especially right now in Syria with air raids and innocent people being bombed and fleeing their homes. She thought talking over a few of the key points might help her cram, especially since she hadn’t studied last night like she should have. She pulled out her recipe cards to review.
“Study? You know me, right? I’m a straight-C student. Why change now?” Seamus started scrolling through texts on his phone. Catriona, suddenly embarrassed by her tidy printing, lowered the cards onto her lap and laid her hands over them. After a few minutes of her and Seamus not talking, she got over herself and started reviewing them. Reading while the bus bumped along the road sometimes nauseated her, but she had to try. Since they’d consolidated high schools, the Falkirk Cove kids now had to ride fifty minutes each way back and forth to school. With focus, she could get a lot of studying done, but today she was struggling to concentrate.
Seamus tucked his phone into his pocket and Catriona could feel his eyes on her. “You wanna come to my hockey game this Saturday night, Cat? Lots of kids from school will be there. We’ll probably hit up a party afterwards.”
“Sorry, wish I could. I’m working at bingo.” She was happy to have an excuse that was at least true.
The school bus hit a pothole and Catriona’s body butted against his. Seamus grinned. “Suit yourself. Will I see you at the dance on Friday?”
She and Seamus had been buddies forever, but lately there was some awkwardness between them. He’d never asked her on a date, but would mention these group things and say that she could come along. She wasn’t really one for hanging around in a pack, and plus, she was an awkward dancer, even more so since she’d had a late (and hopefully final) growth spurt and was a lanky five-foot, ten inches tall. She’d practiced dancing in front of a mirror recently and concluded that she looked like one of those inflated air tube people that dealerships had on their car lots, bending and flopping erratically in the wind.
“Maybe.”
Seamus shrugged and put in his earbuds.
She felt squirmy. Even though she didn’t want to do the things Seamus suggested, she didn’t want him to stop asking her. That would be even worse. She yanked out one of his earbuds. “Have lunch with me today?”
“You bet.” He gave a lopsided grin that made one dimple appear, and reinserted the earbud.
Catriona stared at the water spots on the bus’s window as the familiar scenery rolled by in a blur. A barn. An abandoned house. A field of cows. Would she miss them if she left? She wasn’t sure. Many people here said you had to leave Cape Breton to get training and experience, while others insisted that keeping young people at home was the community’s best chance at recovering. In her lifetime more people had moved away from Falkirk Cove than into it, and there was a real possibility that one day the town might only be a memory. Maybe even in Catriona’s lifetime. It was still on Catriona’s mind as she made her way into school.