Selling the Drama by Theresa Smith

Lots of the guys' trash
talked from time to time, it was just the way it was. Knowing this
about him, even knowing what he had done to Charlotte and Ellie,
didn't make Toby feel any better about his own actions. He had
still had completely no control over the situation and the
realisation of this was terrifying. Whether Damian had deserved a
beating or not, Toby would have far preferred to not be the one who
had given it to him. He turned his head to the side, closing his
eyes wearily, wishing so badly that she would just go.
    Instead, she leaned into the shower and
grabbed a hold of his face, forcing him to look at her. The water
hit her head, soaking her hair and shoulders. "You are not your
father. You will never be your father. You are a good, honourable
person, and this does nothing to change that. You're not him.
You're not him, Toby, you are not him." She released his face and
stepped back, picking up a towel to rub herself dry with before
grabbing his clothes back up off the floor and exiting the
bathroom. The depth at which she understood his despair was
profound, so much so, he couldn't help but be a little awestruck by
her. Once again.
     
    Charlotte put Toby's clothes into a bucket
to soak before calling her mother at work. Iris was never easy to
get a hold of during the day, she worked in a nursing home and was
not always near a phone. Charlotte was on hold for some time before
her mother finally came onto the line.
    "What's wrong, Charlotte? Are you sick?" Her
voice sounded breathless.
    "No, I'm fine. I just thought you needed to
know that Toby and I have come home from school. In case they ring
you. Toby got into a fight this morning before school started and
he needed to clean himself up. He's really upset, Mum. He can't go
back to school and I don't want to leave him by himself."
    Iris was silent for a few moments. "Is he in
a lot of trouble? Will we need to come in to the school?"
    "No. It wasn't in the school grounds."
    "Well, that's one thing I suppose, but what
about the other boy? His parents might complain." Iris sighed
deeply. "We'll have to just wait and see if that happens. Alright,
you can stay at home, I'll give the school a quick ring. Is he
hurt?"
    Charlotte exhaled with relief. She had not
been entirely sure her mother wouldn't insist on at least her
returning to school. "No. He's not hurt at all but like I said
before, he's very upset. He thinks this makes him like his
father."
    Iris sighed once more, and Charlotte could
picture her pinching herself between the eyebrows, the way she
always did when something frustrated or overwhelmed her. Charlotte
wondered which emotion was winning out at the moment. "Oh dear,
that's not very good. We'll have to handle this one carefully. Poor
boy."
    Overwhelmed then. "I tried to reassure him
that it doesn't make him like that at all. And it doesn't. This was
entirely different. Boys fight all the time. He's just never been
like that."
    "No, not surprising really. He's had more
than enough violence in his life without creating more of it
himself. Well, I don't really know what to do here, Charlotte. I'll
have to have a think. Just keep reassuring him, I suppose. That's
probably all we can do. Did you cause this fight?"
    Charlotte felt her cheeks heat. "What? Why
would you ask that?" She was glad her mother couldn't see her
discomfort at the question.
    "Because Toby is a very calm boy and all of
a sudden he's gone and gotten into a fight, just at the same time
you and he have started this little romance; it seems a bit
suspicious."
    Charlotte clenched her free hand into a
fist, so frustrated by her mother. Little romance, indeed! And
jumping straight to the conclusion that it was all her fault, so
typical. Made all the worse of course because she was right!
Charlotte had no intention of giving her mother the satisfaction of
knowing it though. "You're way off the mark. I'll let you go,
you're probably really busy."
    "Yes, I am. See you later." She hung up
without