Lessons in Laughing Out Loud by Rowan Coleman Page A

going to let her hug her and run her bath and brush her hair and read her a bedtime story. This girl needed something altogether different; something that for some reason she thought she could get only from Willow. The trouble was that Willow couldn’t imagine what it might be, and all she could do was grasp at clues and hope not to always come back empty-handed.
Willow attempted to get control of the situation.
“Look, Chloe, you’re not an idiot . . .”
“How do you know anything about me?”
“Because . . . well, because you found me here for one thing, so let’s forget the attitude crap for a second. Let’s stick to the facts and try to see the situation clearly. You’re scared, you’ve somehow got in this huge, massive situation that you can’t getout of, or not easily. You don’t have to tell me what happened, but I’m guessing the baby’s dad isn’t around anymore.”
Chloe shook her head, sniffing.
“Well, you can’t run away from that.” Willow nodded at the bump, its soft, round promise of life at odds with Chloe’s skinny, childlike body. “And you can’t run away from your dad. I know you’re scared of letting him down or how he’ll react. But I also know your dad, and whatever might have happened between us, I know that he adores you. My God, how did you keep this from him for so long?”
“Baggy clothes, stay in my room. Like I say, he never looks at me anymore,” Chloe said quietly. “It was actually quite easy.”
“Let me give him a ring. I’ll take you home. We’ll talk to him together.”
“You think I need you to talk to my dad for me? You of all people?” Chloe’s dark eyes flashed. “I don’t need you to talk to my dad for me. I need you to give me a place to stay that is better than a shop doorway while I work out what to do next. Like I said, you owe me that much.”
“You can’t stay here,” Willow said, closing her eyes, already anticipating the pain of losing Chloe again.
“Why?” Chloe roared back, so ferociously that Willow leaned away from her.
“Your dad would never allow it, and besides, you need to sort this out with him at home—”
“What you mean is I can’t possibly inconvenience you and your precious people-free world,” Chloe spat.
“No!” Willow stood up. “I just . . . I don’t know if I’m the right person to help you.”
“You’re the only person,” Chloe said, her voice receding into a whisper.
“Things can’t have changed that much. Sam loves you, nomatter what’s happened I know he’ll be there for you, once he’s had a chance to take it in.”
“No he won’t. You don’t know him, not anymore. He’s not the same. Not since you . . . he’s angry all the time. He’ll kill me.” Chloe nodded to hammer home her point. “He will and then when they—”
“Drag your lifeless body out of the Thames I’ll be sorry,” Willow finished, running her fingers through her hair. “Chloe, there’s no alternative. We have to tell him.”
“Fuck you.” Chloe crossed her arms, dropping her head abruptly. “Fucking fuck you, bitch.”
And then she burst into tears.
    It took a long time for Chloe to stop crying. Willow had considered putting an arm around her but withdrew it as the gesture felt superficial. How lost and lonely must the girl feel to come to her, of all people? Willow couldn’t imagine the transformation that Sam’s and Chloe’s lives must have gone through for that to happen. Was it her fault, had her failure to stay married to Sam started the cracks, five years ago?
Eventually Chloe fell back onto the bed, her sobs receding, as she repeatedly brushed away the onslaught of tears with the heel of her hand, then wiped her nose on her sleeve.
“I know I’ve fucked up,” she told the ceiling. “I know I’ve ruined my life. I know all that, Will, I just don’t know what to do now. . . . I wish Mum were here; if Mum were here then everything would be all right. Because that’s what mums do, isn’t it? They make