Chapter Text
"Mum?" Jamie's hands tremble when she hears her mom pick up the phone.
"Jamie? Where are you?" Her mom's voice is sleep-laden, and Jamie swallows down the guilt that rises up inside her at having woken her mother up. "What's going on?"
Jamie almost can't answer. Her skin is clammy, and she feels as if she's two seconds away from passing out. It was just a bit of fun; that's all it was. A way to pass the time on a Friday night. In the moments before it happened, life and excitement and adrenaline had surged through her veins, and she'd felt on top of the world. It was never meant to go this far.
"Hello?" her mom asks again, worry coloring her tone now.
"I'm here," Jamie says. She takes a deep breath and plunges into it. "Peter and I got caught stealing from the liquor store on the corner of Maldon Road, and I…I'm at the police station, Mum."
"What on earth were you thinking?" Her mom sounds angry now, and Jamie knows she has every right to be. The truth is Jamie wasn't thinking at all. "Your father and I raised you a lot better than this."
And that may be true. But Jamie knows nothing can erase her faulty genes. She was meant to screw up, born for it. She just didn't think she'd ever screw up this badly.
"I know, Mum, okay? I know." Jamie sighs. "It was stupid, and I won't be doing it again. I think it's safe to say I learnt my lesson this time."
Jamie cringes at the sound of her own words, but it's already too late to pull them back in. This time. Implying there have been other times. She closes her eyes and prays to anyone who might be listening that her mom won't have picked up on the words, that she's still trying to shake off the last dregs of sleep and won't notice the implication. But Jamie is old enough by now to know that no one is listening.
"Please tell me this is the first time you've ever done anything like this," her mom says in a tone of voice that tells Jamie she already knows the answer to her question.
Jamie curses internally as she opens her eyes again and glances around for some way out of this, some lie that will put her back into her mother's good graces. But no magic genie appears to take her back in time and fix this. All she's left with is the truth of what happened, and she knows she'll only make things worse for herself if she doesn't tell it. "No, this isn't the first time. It's only the first time I've gotten caught."
"This is exactly why I never wanted you hanging around with that Peter kid in the first place," her mother scolds. "I knew he was a bad influence on you."
Jamie knows it would be unwise to tell her mom that her and Peter's misadventure tonight had been entirely her idea, so she keeps her mouth shut. She doesn't understand why her mom insists on seeing the best in her. She's destined to be no better than her birth mother was. Everyone else sees it, knows it, so why can't her adopted mom get it through her head?
"He's been my friend for a while now, Mum," Jamie settles on saying. "You know that."
"I also know it's time for that to stop. Your father and I know life wasn't always easy for you, so we've tried to give you freedom and space to grow into your own person, but I won't have you thinking stealing is nothing more than a fun activity to do on a Friday night."
"Yes, ma'am," Jamie says immediately. There's nothing she can say to make any of this better, and she knows she deserves whatever punishment her mom sees fit.
Her mom doesn't immediately dole out a punishment, though. Instead, she is silent for several long seconds, and Jamie's heart rate picks up. She wonders what her mom is thinking about. Is she regretting the freedom she gave to Jamie? Is she regretting ever adopting Jamie in the first place?
"How much is the bail?" Jamie's mother asks eventually.
And there it is. The question Jamie hoped would never come into existence. She's not sorry at all for stealing, for letting her parents down in a way she always knew she would, but the heat of shame burns her from the inside out when she thinks of the money she'll now be making them waste.
"A thousand pounds," she mumbles.
"A thousand pounds?!" Her mom gasps. "Jamie!"
"I know." Jamie swallows the lump in her throat. "I know we don't have a lot of money. So I'll understand if you don't want to pay. I'll serve the time if I have to. S'only six months."
"No," her mother says firmly, and Jamie is surprised at the immediacy and the intensity of her response. "I would never ask you to do that, no matter what. But it's clear that things aren't working out the way that they are right now. I think it's time for your father and I to discuss some other options for you."
Jamie's blood turns to ice in her veins. "What do you mean?" Maybe her mom really does regret adopting her. Is she going to send Jamie back into the foster system?
"I mean, we need to start looking at other schools," her mom clarifies, and Jamie releases a breath she didn't even know she was holding.
Other schools, she can deal with. It's not as if she has more than one friend at Essex County, if she can even call him a friend, not as if she'll miss it there.
"Okay, Mum." Jamie nods, even though she knows her mother can't see her. "I think that's fair."
"I'm going to explain everything to your dad, and then we'll be on our way to the station." The line goes silent for a few seconds before her mom says, "I love you, Jamie."
And Jamie doesn't know what she's done to receive this love, knows she doesn't deserve it, but some of the weight slides off of her shoulders all the same. "I love you too."
Jamie clutches the receiver to her ear long after she hears the dial tone, wishing more than anything that she could just sink through the floor before her parents arrive and disappear.
The ride back to the house is eerily silent, and Jamie plays with her fingers in her lap, waiting for one of her parents to tell her where she'll be going to school next, hoping it isn't anywhere too far away. The entire way home, though, no one says a single word. Jamie's shoulders sag with relief as she walks into the house. Maybe her parents will let this slide until the next morning. That way, at least she'll have some time alone to think about it.
No such luck. Just as Jamie is slinking off to her room, her mother stops her and gestures for her to sit down on the couch. Jamie's heart sinks as she settles on the sofa.
"Please tell us the truth," her mom says, "all of it."
Jamie squirms under her parents' expectant gazes but only for a moment. She's embarrassed and nervous and frustrated at having been caught, but she's already let her parents down plenty tonight, always known she would eventually, so maybe it's time for her to just do as her mother asked and tell them the truth. "So the real reason my grades dropped last year is because I'd been cutting class. I got tired of sitting through the same old classes learning things I'll probably never even use, and so I'd go out for a smoke in the countryside with Peter and some of his other friends. We've also made a game of stealing this summer."
Her mother shares a long look with her father. "Then I think we're making the right decision here. We're pulling you out of Essex County. It clearly isn't a good environment for you, and we want you to be able to go to a school where they'll encourage you to do the right thing."
"That school clearly doesn't keep a close enough eye on its students," her father chimes in. "They let you cut class, smoke, and this is the first we're hearing about it. And now to hear that you've been stealing, and apparently drinking, for what isn't even close to the first time. You need to be kept away from lowlifes like Peter Quint."
Jamie doesn't even try to protest that she and Peter weren't going to actually drink the alcohol they stole. Anyone would see right through that lie.
"You need to go somewhere you'll be more closely monitored," her dad continues, "somewhere cutting class and drinking will have consequences. A school that cuts out the distractions in your life so you can focus solely on academics."
"So what did you have in mind?" Jamie folds her hands in her lap, trying her best not to let her voice waver at the possibilities. "Boarding school?"
"Not quite." Her mom shakes her head. "You remember how Owen offered to send you to that private school over with him in the states?"
Jamie nods, dread settling like a stone in her stomach. Of course she fucking remembers. Bly Academy. A prestigious school for rich folks that only her five-star-restaurant-owning brother would have the money to pay for. He talked to her about it when he visited at the beginning of the summer, and she scowled at him and made it clear that she didn't want to go. Her opinion hasn't changed since then in the slightest. Suddenly boarding school doesn't sound so bad.
"Well, apparently he'd already enrolled you," her mother goes on as if she can't see the look of trepidation Jamie's sure is present in her eyes, "and he kept the spot. He wanted us to ask you again just in case you'd changed your mind, and we hadn't gotten around to it yet. But, in light of recent events, I don't think we're going to be asking anymore."
Panic rises within Jamie, and she clenches her hands into fists, doing her best to push it back down. "I don't even get a choice in the matter?"
Her mom's mouth settles into a thin line. "You made your choice when you decided to let your grades slip and spend your summer stealing."
That shuts Jamie up. Guilt settles inside of her at the thought of how much money her parents had to pay to keep her from going to jail. She definitely deserves some sort of punishment. She just never thought it would be this.
"Owen is going to be so excited." Her mom's face softens. "He's always wanted to spend more time with you ever since he left."
"Then maybe he shouldn't have left," Jamie grumbles, annoyance building under her skin again at the mention of her brother.
Her father shoots her a disapproving look. "He needed to do what was best for his career. You know that."
Jamie rolls her eyes. Of course she does. They've gone over it countless times when she gets edgy about it. A position as a sous-chef in Paris right after graduating from culinary school was a huge opportunity for Owen, as was becoming the head chef at his own restaurant in Vermont. It only meant he had to leave Jamie behind.
"I'm not going to live with him." Jamie crosses her arms over her chest, setting her jaw in determination. "Literally anywhere else I'll go, no arguments. Just not with him."
"He's your brother, Jamie." Her mom frowns. "Surely you can get along for a school year. A semester at least."
"Not likely," Jamie huffs. "I haven't gotten along with him in years, and I already know I won't get along with anyone at school. I mean, really? Bly Academy? Even the name sounds as if you have to be made of money to go there. I'll be so out of place at that school."
"It doesn't matter what the kids are like; what matters is that you'll have some sort of supervision," her dad says. "What matters is that behavior like you've been exhibiting the past couple years will not be tolerated. I know you don't care right now, but you'll regret these decisions later on in life, and it's your mother and I's responsibility to help you make as little regrettable choices as possible from now on."
Anger and fear twist Jamie's stomach into knots as she thinks of the possible outcomes of this situation, anger at the absurdity of going to live with Owen after all these years and fear as the possibility becomes increasingly more likely.
"And my plants?" Jamie tries again to get her parents to see sense. "You can't seriously expect me to leave all my plants here."
"You can leave us a list of instructions for each one, and we'll take care of them for you until you come home," her mom says.
Jamie feels the walls of this cage her parents are building around her close in tightly as her last argument goes up in smoke. She knows she doesn't have the strength to push those walls back out again, but that doesn't stop her from trying. "This isn't fair."
The words come out as a childish whine, but Jamie doesn't care. She can't think of many punishments that could be worse than this one.
They could send you away for good, cast you out of the family, a tiny voice whispers at the back of Jamie's mind, and she shudders. They're only doing this because they actually care about you, and isn't that a good thing?
Jamie opens her mouth to say something else, what she doesn't know, but her dad cuts her off with a stern look. "I don't want to argue with you anymore, Jamie. You're going to Bly and to live with Owen for the next few months, and that's that. Maybe you'll like it or maybe you won't, but you will be kept out of trouble, and that's what matters."
"I know it's been hard on you these past few years since Owen left," her mom says with a sympathetic look, "but you'll have plenty of time to spend with Owen now. You and he can do all sorts of fun things together, and you won't even have time to think about stealing or drinking or any of that stuff anymore. Won't even want to hopefully."
Jamie groans. She's sure Owen will be just as excited about her visit as her mom says he is. He's always incredibly, obnoxiously excited whenever he comes to visit her here. And that's the thing, isn't it? He always acts as if nothing happened, as if he and she are just as close as they've always been, even though he's been missing out on entire years of her life.
She can't stand the thought of spending even a semester with him, and her skin crawls as it becomes clearer and clearer to her that her parents are going to make her. She glances helplessly between both of them, but she can see they're not going to change their minds, can tell by the square of her mother's shoulders and the set of her father's jaw.
Only once she's stormed off down the hallway and slammed her bedroom door does she finally let her hot tears spill down her face. Jamie doesn't cry; she doesn't. But this is simply too much for her to take. She doesn't want to move to an entirely new country and go to school with a bunch of snobby rich kids or live with the brother who abandoned her for the chance at a brighter future, one that didn't involve her. And yeah, so maybe her parents are right that it was the best decision for him, a great opportunity, but he could've taken Jamie with him. All he would've had to do was ask, and she would have been there.
But he never asked.
Until now. Four years later. Four years too late. As if he's been too busy building his future to even think about Jamie. As if he's just remembered the little sister he left behind in the UK now that he's finally gotten to where he wants to be. And that's the thing. Jamie doesn't want to be an afterthought. Because, she thinks, if the roles were reversed, Owen would never have been her afterthought.
Her siblings have always been her first priority, so why is she never a priority to them?
She cries into her pillow until she finally falls into a restless sleep, dreaming of taunts and loneliness and a pot of hot water boiling over.