Inescapable Escapism

I had a strange sense of deja vu as I walked across the car park towards the restaurant to pick up our pizza. It wasn’t quite deja vu, but an echo. In both worlds, I was walking. My steps were in unison, which made it hard to feel truly present anywhere. It felt murky, muddied. Like I was existing in both worlds, but also neither. I wasn’t sure which one I was more present in.

In both worlds, I paused, my hand on a door handle. I had to make a decision, to choose which world to be in. I didn’t want to, not really, but I chose reality. I pulled the restaurant door open, pushing away the dizziness that tempted me, and blinked in the sudden brightness.

It was the smell that grounded me, though. The mouthwatering aroma of freshly baked pizza, rich tomato sauce, and cheese. So much cheese. It was slightly sharp and tangy, and I wanted to eat it immediately. Instead, I forced myself to swallow down the mouthful of saliva and smile at the boy who stood behind the wooden counter near the entrance.

“Hi,” he said, returning the smile. “Would you like a table?”

“Um, no,” I replied, feeling strangely awkward. “I’m actually here to pick up an order. My mom placed it. It should be under the name Amanda?”

I don’t know why I felt so uncomfortable talking to him. People ordered and picked up pizzas from there every day. It was a restaurant, but they also did takeaway. He was definitely used to people going in and picking up food, but that didn’t help the embarrassment that coursed through me for no reason.

Or, maybe there was a reason. I couldn’t help but notice that the boy was kind of cute. He was about my age, taller than me too, and he had a nice smile. A really nice smile.

“Oh, of course. I’m pretty sure I took that call earlier,” he said.

I winced and had to fight the urge to apologise. I didn’t hear the phone call, but I didn’t need to. I knew my mom well enough to know that she was probably difficult over the phone.

“Great,” I muttered.

“Give me just a minute,” he said. “I’ll just nip into the kitchen and see if it’s ready for you.”

“Thanks.”

I looked around the restaurant as he walked away, trying to keep my eyes off him. The pizzas there weren’t quite as good as the ones at Tony’s, the other Italian restaurant we went to in town, but they were still good. The food was good enough for the place to be packed, even though it was a Thursday. Family, mostly, were seated in the booths, laughing and talking loudly.

It brought a smile to my face, even though my heart clenched slightly. I liked seeing other people, other families, being happy together, but it made me jealous. I wished I could be like that. That I could sit with my mom and dad and have a nice meal without anyone shouting at each other or storming out. The only time I’d been able to have anything like that was when I was with Mitch.

That had been lovely. Even being in Crete with him, pretending to be Alice, the stuck-up brat, had been fun. I felt the dizziness creeping towards me, its movements cautious. Tears burned my eyes. I hated how it felt. It made me so uncomfortable, so sad, because it felt like home. It was home. There was something about that world that made me feel so safe and loved, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t go back there. If I did, and Mitch was…

I couldn’t do it. I could see him, though. The faintest trace of something, maybe a memory, crept into my mind. He was standing there, shirtless, in the hallway of a house. It was no house I’d ever been to, though; that much was clear. The walls were covered in strange reeds, or maybe rattan. I wasn’t sure what they were, but somehow I knew that it would hurt if I caught my arm on any of the bits that stuck out the top, right at arm level.

There was a phantom sting on my bicep, as if I had done just that. But it didn’t matter. My eyes were drawn back to Mitch, even in my… whatever it was. His stomach was covered in bandages, but he was smiling. Grinning at me. It made me lurch towards the dizziness before I could stop myself.

I didn’t reach it though. Not before reality hit me. The thing I was thinking of, that I was picturing, wasn’t real. It was nothing more than a wish. A hopeless dream. My fantasies, or whatever they were, weren’t real either, but that image felt different. It was too fuzzy, too blurry. I was just being hopeful. I just needed to believe that he was still alive and didn’t hate me for getting him shot.

There was another image there too, though. It was equally fuzzy, and I knew it was just conjured up by my mind, but I couldn’t help the nausea that rushed through me. Mitch was lying in a hospital bed, a white sheet pulled up high on his chest. It wasn’t helping, though. His frail body was still shaking violently. I could see the bones jutting out of his chest. His far too pale skin was stretched across them painfully and was marred with thick black streaks.

Infection. An infection had set it and was killing him. He was hooked up to IV bags, multiple, and a tube was nestled in his nose, helping him breathe. There was another one next to it, the colour white. Food. He’d lost the ability to eat. It was only a matter of time before he—

“They’re just cutting the pizzas and getting them boxed up for you,” a voice said, jolting me out of my horrific fantasy.

It wasn’t real. Somehow, I knew that. It felt real, but it wasn’t. Nothing about that fantasy was real. Mitch didn’t even look the same. He looked so much older, and his body was more scarred. My Mitch was scarred, but not like that. I was sure.

“Oh, thank you,” I said, letting out a nervous laugh.

I hoped the boy wouldn’t notice how shaky it was. I was too close to tears, and I had to clench my hands into fists, digging my nails into my palms. It helped. The pain centred me, made it easier for me to look at the boy.

“That’s alright. I’m Archie, by the way,” he said, giving me another dazzling smile. “Are you new here? I don’t think I’ve seen you around.”

Focusing on him helped push some of my lingering panic away. It felt as if I was locking it in a box. I’d deal with it later or, ideally, never. That would be better. I could continue living my life, unsure if Mitch was alive or not. I didn’t need to think about it. Didn’t need to confirm any of my suspicions. I could just tell myself that he was fine. If I didn’t think about it, I’d never have to find out. I could just cling to the hope that the first image was correct. That he was still alive and didn’t hate me. That had to be true.

“Not really,” I told Archie. “I’m here on holiday. My grandparents have a house here, so we’re staying for a little bit.”

“Oh yeah?” he replied, leaning his hip against the counter and smiling at me. “How long are you here for?”

Behind him, a waitress walked passed and rolled her eyes. He was flirting with me, I realised. I was almost sure of it.

“A few more weeks,” I said.

I wasn’t sure how to respond to him. I didn’t really flirt, not in this world, at least. And I wasn’t even sure if he was flirting. Maybe he was just making conversation.

“Great,” he said. “Do you have much planned for whilst you’re here?”

His question didn’t clarify anything. He might have just been talking to me and trying to fill the silence, but there was something about the way he was looking at me. The way he waited for my answer.

“Not really. Mostly just relaxing and going for a few runs,” I said with a slight shrug.

His eyes dropped lower, following the lines of my body slowly. He was checking me out. Definitely flirting.

“Well, if you ever need a running partner, you should let me know,” he suggested. “I feel like we could have some fun.”

I had no response to that. It was extremely clear that he was flirting with me, and I couldn’t think of anything to say to him. It was nice, in a way. Flattering. But, at the same time, I felt guilty. Duncan hovered in my mind. We weren’t dating, or even close to it, but it still felt a little like I was cheating on him.

I opened my mouth to reply when a light on the counter flashed. Archie heaved a heavy sigh.

“Duty calls,” he said, nodding at it. “I’ll go get you your pizzas.”

“Thanks…”

I glanced down at the phone in my hands as Archie walked away. I wanted to text Duncan, but I had no clue what to say to him. I just wanted to talk though, nothing more. Just a normal conversation.

Hey, I typed quickly before pausing. How’s it going?

I hit send, cringing at how awkward the message read. It sounded weird. I didn’t text him like that. I could have said something else, anything else. I looked at the message again, my fingers hovering over the keyboard as I debated sending another text. My mind was empty, though.

No, I decided. Texting him again would be weird. It would make me look desperate, and I wasn’t desperate. He was just a friend, nothing more. But even as I thought that, my eyes found our earlier messages. The ones that were definitely more than just friendly.

A smile came over my face before I could stop it. Reading the messages just made me happy. I must have read them half a dozen times since I’d sent them, but they still gave me butterflies. I wasn’t sure if they were more from nerves or excitement though. Both, I think. Flirting with him made me happy but also worried. It was scary, nerve-wracking, but…

“There you go,” Archie said as he returned, holding two pizza boxes with a small bag resting on top of them. “I’ve thrown in some dips. On the house.”

He grinned at me as he held the boxes out, and I took them, my returning smile much more subdued. I knew that I should be polite to him. It was nice that he gave us free dips, but it also made me uncomfortable. I felt like I’d led him on, not that I’d really flirted at all, but it still felt like it.

“Thanks,” I said, realising how many times I’d said just that and nothing more. “I appreciate it.”

His smile grew wider.

“There’s also something else in the bag,” he said. “My number. Drop me a text sometime. We can go for a run or something…”

The word dangled in the air between us, making it very clear that he was suggesting something other than a run. Something that probably required much less clothing, judging by the way he was looking at me.

My cheeks started to burn, and I ducked my head, unable to hold his gaze any longer. My phone, which I’d slid onto the pizza boxes so I could carry everything, buzzed loudly. I had to fight the urge to read the message immediately. It was either Duncan replying or my mom demanding to know what was taking me so long.

“Here, I’ll get the door for you,” Archie said after a pause.

“Oh, yeah. Thanks,” I said as he squeezed past me to pull the door open.

I was careful to avoid touching him at all as I moved past him. Part of me felt like I should say something else or flirt with him, but I didn’t want to. Not truly. Instead, I gave him a tight smile and stepped out onto the street, walking toward my mom’s car without looking back.

“Was there a queue?” she asked the moment I shut the door.

“Yes,” I said.

There was no point in not lying. She wouldn’t have been able to see me from where her car was parked, and she probably spent the whole time on her phone anyway.

“There is always such a queue there,” she said with a heavy sigh as she began reversing, not even waiting for me to do my seatbelt up. “The service is terrible.”

I was tempted to say it was because Tony’s didn’t do take out, and when we ate at home, we could eat in complete silence and spent the entire meal on our phones. It was more comfortable that way. I preferred it, even if the food at Tony’s was definitely better.

“Yeah,” I agreed, thinking about Archie. “It was bad.”

Mom let out a sigh as she pulled out of the car park and began slowly idling along the road.

“I don’t know why we bother.”

I opened my mouth to reply, but something began tugging at my awareness. Dizziness was pulling at me, tempting me back to the other world. Not Mitches but the spy world. I let it take me, opening my eyes just as the tutor, Jenna, strode into the gym where we were waiting for her.

“Good morning, class,” she said. “How is everyone doing today?”

There was a scattered reply as a few people mumbled something, but no one truly spoke up. Her expression made it clear she wasn’t happy with that. I watched nervously as her eyes scanned the room, landing on each of us.

The urge to say something bubbled up within me, but I pushed it down. I felt too awkward and uncomfortable to say anything. I wasn’t sure what I would say anyway. My stomach still felt tight and throbbed vaguely whenever I moved, but I couldn’t exactly say that to her. She probably meant the question more generally, anyway. That’s what people usually meant when they asked it, and they rarely wanted people to say anything other than that they were alright.

Jenna’s gaze was still roaming the room, her expression expectant. Finally, she let out a sigh.

“Alright, after yesterday, I’m sure a lot of you are feeling quite tired and stiff,” she said. “That generally happens after such an intense initial session, so what we’ll be doing today is taking things a little more slowly and mainly focusing on stretching so that you can check in on your bodies and make sure you’re not pushing yourself to the point of injury. How does that sound?”

There was another round of murmurs, but it was slightly more enthusiastic that time. I felt the corner of my lips lift in a slight smile.

“Okay, great! I’ll grab the yoga mats from the next room so we can get started,” she said, looking around the room again. Her eyes landed on mine. “Grace, would you mind giving me a hand?”

I hesitated. I wanted to help her, of course. She was a teacher, and it felt wrong to refuse, but at the same time, I wasn’t sure how much help I would be. The thought of carrying a bunch of yoga mats and feeling them press against my bruised skin made worry build within me.

“I can do it,” Seth said enthusiastically, glancing at me.

He’d seen my hesitation and understood why I was reluctant to help, I could tell. He was offering to do it so that I wouldn’t have to. Gratitude washed through me.

“Actually, I would rather Grace assist me,” Jenna said in a tone that made it clear that it was not a request but an order.

I glanced at Seth before smiling at Jenna.

“Sure, I’m happy to help,” I half-lied.

She returned the smile before turning and starting to walk towards the door. I followed her, trying to work out what to say to her. Should I lie and pretend that my stomach is fine? Or would it be better to tell her that it was still in a lot of pain? I wasn’t sure, and I didn’t have a chance to decide what to do. I could feel the car pulling into the driveway of my grandparent’s house, and my focus immediately snapped to the car.

I needed to be ready, to plan. The journey had been too quick, and I’d spent the entire time in the other world. I hadn’t meant to do that. I should have used the time to work out what to do about the phone number Archie had given me. I wasn’t going to use it, obviously, but I needed to get rid of it before my mom saw. If she did, she would become so much more suspicious of me.

It would be confirming her existing worries, in a way. Any time I left the house, she would assume I was going to meet him. She wouldn’t let me go for runs or would follow me if I did go. Or, she might assume I had already texted him. She would demand to see my phone, would go through my messages.

The texts between Duncan and me were still on it. I hadn’t deleted them, and I didn’t want to. She couldn’t read them though. They were too… much. The flirting, the date, the mentions of alcohol. If she saw them, I’d be subjected to lecture after lecture about the dangers of drinking, speckled with stories from when she was a child and how much she drank at my age but how it never impacted her negatively. It would all be speeches I had heard before.

We wouldn’t be able to have our date. She would come up with a way to stop me from going on it.

Something would happen. I wasn’t sure what, but I knew that there would be something. I chewed my lip, my eyes darting to the bag on my lap. The pizzas were burning my thighs through the boxes, but I didn’t dare move them. If I did, if I did anything, she might see into the bag.

My grip on the boxes tightened slightly, my mind racing. If I could get to the kitchen before her, put the pizza on plates, the dip in a bowl or something, I might be able to find a way to get rid of the napkin with his number on before she saw it. That could work.

The car came to a stop, and she switched off the engine. I forced myself to move slowly, deliberately, as I climbed out of the car. I had to look normal, like nothing was going on. That was possible, I told myself. It didn’t feel it though. I felt like my every move was so exaggerated and wrong.

My mom didn’t even look at me. She didn’t wait for me to get out of the car before marching towards the front door, nor did she hold it open for me. I hurried after her, my eyes darting to the bathroom door as I moved along the hall. I could probably quickly grab the napkin, dash into there and flush it before she noticed.

That was a horrible idea though. If she saw me walk into the bathroom with the pizzas or heard the toilet flush when I should have just been following her, she would ask questions. I couldn’t think of a single explanation for why I would do that. Instead, I stuck to my original plan and continued towards the kitchen.

“Put those out onto plates,” she said, waving her hand dismissively towards the cupboard where the plates were kept.

Normally, it would have irritated me, but I only felt a trill of hope. It could work. My plan could work. I felt the urge to leave that world and return to the spy world, but I ignored it, focusing instead on looking normal as I crossed the room and placed the food on the counter.

I kept my back to my mom, my body blocking the pizzas as I started pulling out two large plates and some ramekins for the dips. I wanted to look back over my shoulder at her, to make sure she was still at the table, where she’d sat as I entered the room, but I fought it. It would just make me look suspicious.

I started with the pizzas, quickly sliding them onto the plates. My eyes widened. There was a thin square of grease-covered corrugated cardboard under each pizza. It was loose in the box. I could slip the napkin under one of them, and my mom would never think to look there. She wouldn’t open a greasy pizza box even if she was suspicious of me.

I started to lift the two plastic pots of dip out of the bag, carefully lifting the napkin with them. My heart was racing, even though I wasn’t doing anything particularly stressful or strenuous.

“What’s that?” my mom snapped.

I froze before carefully dropping the napkin but keeping my grip on the pots and turning towards her.

“They gave us free dips,” I said with a smile. “I think it was an apology for how long they took.”

That was a blatant lie, but I didn’t care. I continued smiling at her sweetly, hoping she wouldn’t ask any more questions.

“That’s good, at least,” she said with a sniff. “I mean, their service is still terrible, but at least they’re aware of that.”

“I agree.”

I turned again, putting the pots down and slipping the napkin under one of the greasy cardboard and feeling relief wash over me. Hopefully, it was greasy enough that Archie’s surprisingly nice handwriting would be completely ruined and unreadable if she were to see it somehow. That would be good. Ideal really.

I emptied the dips into two ramekins and closed the pizza boxes before shoving them into the bin deeply. It was a completely normal thing to do, I told myself. I was just clearing up now, so we didn’t have to do it later. That was a good excuse. I wasn’t sure if my mom would believe it, but I felt prepared, at least.

She didn’t ask any questions though. She barely looked up from her phone as I brought the food over to the table and placed it in front of her. I’d gotten away with it, I realised. That meant I wouldn’t have to delete Duncan’s texts just yet. I knew that I should, but I didn’t want to. Plus, there was another text from him waiting for me.

I couldn’t answer it with Mom sitting next to me, though. I swiped across to get rid of the message from my lock screen, watching her from the corner of my eye to make sure she didn’t see it, before opening Instagram and beginning to scroll mindlessly.

“I’ve already spoken to the doctor,” Jenna’s voice said, pulling me back to the other world.

“You have?” I heard myself ask as dizziness hit me.

I breathed deeply, holding my body carefully to ensure I didn’t stumble or sway.

“Yes. As your fitness teacher, it’s important for me to be aware of any injuries that students experience to ensure that you are not pushing yourself too far or exacerbating it,” she explained.

“Oh…” I said. “Well, my injury isn’t too bad.”

I don’t know why I lied, but I felt like I had to.

“With that in mind,” she continued as if I hadn’t spoken, “I don’t believe that it is safe for you to take part in my class at the moment. You should be resting and not pushing your body too hard until you can move without pain, or mostly without pain. So, you have a few options.”

My heart had been steadily sinking as she spoke, but now I felt hope starting to enter it again.

“I do?” I asked.

“Yes. You can either attempt the class and see how you find it. However, this may lead to me telling you to stop if you appear to be pushing yourself too far,” she said, causing my cheeks to flush at the imagined embarrassment that would cause. “You can sit at the edge of the room and watch. Or… you can have some extra lessons with Rodgers.”

“I can?” I asked, genuinely shocked.

“You can. You still need to complete your general knowledge testing in a few days, so you won’t be able to cover any topics that will come up in your exams, but you can start on some of the more specialised classes.”

“Specialised classes?” I repeated. “What kind of specialist classes?”

“Well, that depends, really,” Jenna said. “Rodgers is pretty well versed in most, so it’s up to you. Do you want to get started on specialist tech, survival cooking, basic cooking, first aid, or something else in your induction folder?”

My mind span, and I opened my mouth, unable to think of an answer. Every subject that Jenna mentioned or that I had seen in the folder sounded so interesting, so intriguing. I wanted to learn everything about all of them, but I knew that I needed to choose just one.

Jenna was looking at me, a smile on her face as she waited for my answer. It was too much, though. There were too many options.

“How about you think about that whilst I go grab Rodgers?” she asked.

I nodded, still unable to speak, as she turned and walked out of the small room we were in. It made sense to start with something like first aid. That would be the most useful, but then specialist technology sounded really interesting too. There were other ones she hadn’t mentioned too that I had read about. Like psychology. I’d never studied that before, never really even looked into it, but the idea intrigued me. It all did.

And it was up to me. It was my choice of what I wanted to study. Not my mom’s, not a teacher’s. Mine. I could start to learn about anything, and that made me feel powerful. And, so far, it all seemed applicable to real life. It was all the same. The worlds seemed to be the same, despite being nothing more than a daydream.

But that didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel like just a daydream, not any more. I was learning things in the other worlds, and they felt so real. I could feel pain, taste and more. I… I was losing sight of what was real and what wasn’t. It was becoming blurred, but I didn’t mind.

In fact, I liked it.