by Pat Flynn
It took their group about two minutes to work out that Jimmy and John would use their computer skills to put the presentation onto PowerPoint, Alex would be the skateboarder they would analyse, and Casey’s video would be their discussion tool. “Just as long as we don’t show my slam,” Alex said. For the rest of the allocated assignment time they debated whether Eminem or Ice-T was the better rapper. Alex liked the classic hip-hop, John the angrier, modern stuff.
“Eminem, he bad,” said John.
“Ice-T is cool,” said Alex.
“You guys are sad,” said Jimmy.
Another distraction from work was Emma Barney’s party, which according to Adrian Dorry almost the whole of Year 9 was attending, plus a heap of Year 10s. “The rule is that everybody puts in five bucks, and Emma’s older brother is going to supply the grog,” said Adrian. “He might even get a few joints.”
“If we get the girls real drunk, you never know what will happen,” said Peter Callaghan.
“They might puke in your lap, Callaghan,” said Jimmy.
* * *
“Are we sponsored by no-frills, Mum?” asked Alex that night. Around the house there were no-frills cereal, no-frills dishwashing liquid and even no-frills toilet paper.
“We’re not sponsored by anybody,” she replied, looking up from the kitchen bench where she was helping Sam with her maths homework. “You have to pay for everything in life.”
As well as tightening up her already frugal spending habits, Alex’s mum was working overtime. She was saving money for something and it certainly wasn’t for Chief to have a good time in Russia.
“Hey Shaz, have you seen my black singlet?” asked Chief. He was running late for his nightly training session with the boys.
“I threw it out,” she said. “It stunk.”
“But it was my favourite singlet,” Chief protested. “Why didn’t you just wash it?”
She shrugged, and went back to explaining fractions.
Alex had never seen his mum act like this before. Now he knew what other kids were talking about when they said their parents didn’t get along. He decided that he, the eldest child, had better do something.
“Mum, are you mad because Chief doesn’t earn enough money as a boxing trainer for us to move out of Beeton?”
“Mmm,” she said, not looking up.
“And Chief, are you upset because Mum doesn’t respect what you do, and because you think Beeton is the bees knees and Mum doesn’t like it?”
Chief grunted.
“Well, I think I’ve got an answer,” Alex said.
Everybody looked at him now, even Sam.
“I could quit school, go on the pro skateboarding tour with Casey Marshall and earn enough money for us all to move to that new estate in Logan City. Then Chief could keep his job, Mum would be happy and we’d all live happily ever after.”
Chief went to find another singlet and Sharon looked down at a textbook called ‘Future Maths 7’.
“You’re an idiot,” said Sam.
“I could do it. I’m sponsored, you know!” said Alex.
“You are not. Casey Marshall got you a board from his sponsor.”
“Shut up.”
Later that night Alex heard Chief and his mum talking in muffled voices. He heard footsteps down the hall and saw his dad’s silhouette in the bedroom doorway.
“You awake, son?” said Chief.
“I am now.”
“You know …” He paused, searching for the right words. “Just because your mum and me aren’t seeing eye to eye at the moment, well, that doesn’t mean you have to worry.”
“Why do you have to go to Russia, Dad?”
“Cause it’s something I want to do, have to do. I dunno.”
“Why does Mum want to get out of Beeton so bad?”
“You’ll have to ask her. There is a bit of riff-raff around, though, I’ll admit that.”
“Good night, Chief.”
“Night champ.”
“Hey Chief.”
“What?”
“Will you ask Mum if I can go to a party tomorrow night?”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
A few minutes later Sam crept in. “Can’t a bloke get some shut-eye around here?” Alex said.
“Do you think they’ll get a divorce?” asked Sam.
“Mum and Dad? No way.”
“I hope not.” She paused. “If they do get a divorce, do you think I’ll live with Mum and you’ll live with Chief?”
“They’re not getting a divorce. They’re safe as hou … I mean a bank.”
“Because even though you’re stupid sometimes, I don’t want us to live apart.”
“Yeah, then you wouldn’t know all my secrets,” he said, smiling.
Even though it was dark, he knew that Sam was smiling too.
CHAPTER 9
The Party
“I don’t have a good feeling about this,” said Sharon as she dropped Alex and Jimmy off at Emma Barney’s house.
There were kids hanging around outside, smoking, and in the Corona you could no longer hear the 60s music of Sharon’s favourite radio station over the thumping bass coming from inside the house.
Boom, boom, boom.
“Perhaps I should go in and meet the girl’s parents,” said Sharon.
“We’ll be right, Mum,” Alex said quickly. “You can trust us, can’t she Jimmy?”
“You can trust us, Mrs J. We’re Catholic schoolboys, remember?”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. Well, I’m picking you boys up at 11. If there’s any trouble, call me straightaway, Alex.”
“No worries, Mum.”
Alex was glad his mum didn’t come inside to meet Emma Barney’s parents. Not only because of the embarrassment factor but because her parents were away for the weekend. They had left Emma’s 18-year-old brother, Jordie, in charge of the house. Jordie was sucking on a beer with his arm around a Year 9 girl, Claire Carney.
Good move, Mr and Mrs Barney.
They went in and saw Sarah across the other side of the room. Her new dress was short and silky and her black hair done up in frizzes and curls. She had on bright red lipstick and a little too much makeup, but even Alex had to admit she looked good. For a nerd.
“You’re a lucky bloke,” he said to Jimmy.
They went over and chatted, though it was impossible to hear much. Jimmy yelled three times to Sarah that she looked good. When she finally heard him she smiled but didn’t return the compliment. Jimmy was wearing cargo pants and thongs. Emma came over offering drinks, and Sarah asked for a wine cooler.
“Want a beer?” Emma said to Alex.
“Maybe later,” he said.
Emma looked at Jimmy.
“Yeah, later for me too.”
“You guys are hopeless,” said Sarah. She walked away.
Jimmy looked hurt.
“She’s probably just gone to the toilet,” Alex yelled in his ear.
A few seconds later Jimmy punched Alex’s arm. “Look,” he said, pointing towards the doorway. John Carson-Zanger had walked in. He was scanning the room trying to find a non-hostile face and gave a toothy grin when he spotted Alex and Jimmy.
Before he made it across the crowded room he ran into Billy Johnstone. Literally. Billy’s beer went all over Zane Beard’s new Rip Curl shirt.
Billy turned to see who the culprit was. Alex gave Jimmy a nudge and they hurried over. John would have a short and not very memorable party if Billy got hold of him.
Alex felt a tightening in the pit of his stomach. Last year he fought Billy twice, and if you were a boxing commentator you’d say they shared the honours. Billy received some nasty cuts and bruises, and Alex had to go to the hospital with concussion. Well, maybe Billy won on points.
Alex and Jimmy grabbed an arm each and whisked John out of the room. Behind him Alex could hear Billy yelling but he didn’t turn around to find out what he was saying.
They opened a door at the end of th
e hallway.
“I think we should stay here for a while,” Alex said.
Jimmy nodded. “Why’d you come here?” he asked John.
John shrugged. “It’s a party, hey? You know, dance, meet girls.”
“Get bashed,” added Jimmy.
John shrugged. “Look,” he said. There was a computer in the corner.
“It’s an Apple,” said Jimmy. “I wonder if there’s any good games?” He switched it on.
“What are you going to do about your girlfriend?” asked Alex.
“I’d better go tell her where I am,” said Jimmy with a sigh. “You stay here with John.”
“Nah, I’ll go tell her. You guys play games,” said Alex. He wasn’t into computers much.
“Stay away from Johnstone,” Jimmy warned.
The party was in full swing. Zane Beard was dancing topless on the table, swinging his beer-soaked shirt above his head. The music was cranked up so loud the room was vibrating, and newly formed couples had drifted to spare couches or corners — playing tonsil hockey. Alex looked over to see Jordie on the couch with Claire Carney, his tongue working its way down her throat. Claire was a nice girl but she had a reputation to live up to. Her nickname was CC, not only because of her initials but because of the slogan “she can’t say no”.
“Have you seen Sarah?” Alex asked Emma.
“I think she’s out the back.”
Outside Alex tripped over a huge potplant that had been tipped over. There was smashed glass on the patio, and the well-kept yard was strewn with bottles and cigarette butts. Even so, Alex liked it better out here. It wasn’t so loud that you couldn’t think and there was a breeze that whisked away some of the stench of spilt beer.
Someone tapped him on the shoulder. “You’re Alex, aren’t you?”
He turned around. It was a girl who looked familiar.
“I’m Kim,” she said.
Alex nodded. Of course. Kimberley Lim. She was one of the skaters in last year’s demonstration at school, pulling some sweet 50–50s and noseslides on the kerb.
She was wearing 3/4 length pants, a black SMP T-shirt and a pair of Osiris shoes. Those skate shoes weren’t cheap. Alex usually wore his trusty Dunlop Volleys for skating, which weren’t the greatest when it came to cushioning but had good grip.
“I saw you at assembly,” he said. “You won that art comp.”
“They made me go up the front. It was embarrassing.”
“You still skate?”
“Skated here. You?”
“Not here. But I still skate.”
“Come meet the guys,” she said. “We skate around Beeton every Friday night.”
He followed her over to a group of four boys sitting on the grass. Alex recognised a few of them from school. They were in Year 10 and seemed friendly enough, even though they were smoking and drinking beer.
“Remember the grommet last year who grinded the library rail? Well this is him — Alex,” said Kim. “This is Steve, Nugget, Cookie and Goof.”
“G’day,” said everybody.
“Aren’t you mates with Casey Marshall?” said Steve.
“Yeah”
“He used to be best mates with my brother Ryan. They used to rip Beeton apart in their younger days.”
Alex had never heard Casey mention him. “Casey’s in Europe now,” said Alex. “Skating pro.”
“My brother said he was the best skater he’d ever seen. Other than him.”
They talked for a while — about equipment, tricks, good places to rip. Alex had never seen them at the skatepark. “Why didn’t you go in the demo last year?” he asked.
“That stuff’s for show,” said Steve. “That same afternoon, after school, I came back and board-slided the library stairs.”
Kim must have noticed that Alex looked doubtful.
“I was there,” said Kim. “Steve’s an awesome skater. Best in the school.”
Alex might have had something to say about that. Then he remembered there were four Year 10 boys in front of him, and a Year 9 boy nearby who’d love to see him bashed. He let it slide.
“Why don’t you come down to the skatebowl tomorrow?” Alex asked.
“We don’t skate in parks,” Steve said. “Only street.”
“You should come skating with us,” said Kim.
“Maybe,” said Alex. He knew there were two chances his mum would let him skate in downtown Beeton on a Friday night.
“We should cruise,” said Steve, taking one last puff on his smoke before flicking it onto the lawn. “Watch this,” he said to Alex.
He grabbed his board and took off down the patio, heading straight for a couple lying on the ground. Right before he smacked into their heads he popped a fat ollie over the top of them and landed smooth.
The guy can skate.
“Catchya Alex,” said Kim.
Alex took another look at the couple on the patio. They hadn’t even twigged that they had just been used as a high-jump bar, their entangled mouths not coming up for air. Alex remembered that he was supposed to be looking for Sarah, then realised he was looking right at her. She was on the patio, kissing Billy Johnstone.
CHAPTER 10
Becky
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Dearest Alex,
Buongiorno! Sorry it’s been a few weeks since I wrote, but I’ve been settling back into Italian life. Everything is so slow here, I think it is rubbing off on me. It’s freezing, but the good thing about the weather is I get to go skiing! I went with a friend whose family owns a chateau in the Swiss Alps. It was beautiful and lots of fun. You should try it some time, though knowing you you’d be a crazy snow-boarder.
Guess what? I got a call from Casey. He’s in Germany at the moment getting ready for a competition. In a few week she’s coming to Trieste and I’ve asked Mum if we can go and watch him skate. I hope she lets me. He said to say hi, and that he’ll call you when he wins some money.
How is Year 9? Is it heaps different from Year 8? School over here is pretty easy. We start at 7 in the morning and finish by 1. Then we go home and sleep.
I’m really happy I saw you last month. I miss you heaps and I still wear the necklace you bought for me. It’s hard being away from you, especially when I’m not sure how long we’ll be apart. Do you think we’ll last? Long-distance relationships suck.
I keep thinking about you and look forward to the day we can be together again. I’ll try and write more. Love 4 eva,
Becky.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Dear Becky,
Thanks for writing. I was starting to get worried you’d disappeared. It was cool you spoke to Casey. Make sure you go to Trieste (where is that?) and watch him skate. I reckon he’ll riponce he gets the hang of the pros.
Things here aren’t great. My parents are still not talking and something weird happened last night. There was a party at Emma Barney’s house and Sarah Sceney got with Billy Johnstone. Jimmy was there but he didn’t see. I can’t believe Sarah did that to him. I know she’s your friend, but what a@#$%!
I’m not sure if I should tell Jimmy. I want to talk to Sarah and find out why she did it. I’ll let you know how it turns out.
Of course I think we’ll last. As long as you want us to, that is. I agree that long-distance relationships suck, but I’d rather wait for you than go out with someone I don’t like. You have to talk your mum into moving back to Australia!
Love,
Alex.
PS. I really liked seeing you too.
PPS. Notice that I am writing back straight away.
Alex logged off and waited for Anne, the librarian, to come to the front counter. Last year he and Anne weren’t on the best of terms, but lately they’d been getting on like Alex was a regular library nerd. Which, come to think of it, he was. He came in at least once a week to email Becky.
She returned his s
kateboard. “I was meaning to ask you,” she said, “have you seen Sarah lately?”
“Yeah,” said Alex.
“She used to come in here almost every day, especially when school started. Do you know what’s happened to her?”
“Oh, you know. Probably going through a rebellious stage.”
“Sarah as a rebel? That’s hard to imagine.”
“Were you ever a rebel, Anne?”
She looked startled. “Come to think of it, I suppose I was. A long time ago. Say hello for me, will you. Rebel or not, she’s a nice kid.”
CHAPTER 11
Gossip and Lies
Alex knocked on the Sceney’s front door and waited. He had never been to Sarah’s house before. In primary school he’d spent most of his time trying to avoid her, but with the phone calls, notes, letters, poems, rehearsed and impromptu speeches, screensaver messages and compositions — all about him, all about love — it wasn’t easy. It was strange that they only became friends once she started going out with Jimmy. But Anne was right — she was a nice girl. Till last night.
No one answered, and Alex breathed a sigh of relief as he made his way down the stairs. Then he heard the door open. He turned to see a dishevelled-looking girl squinting down at him. He looked twice before he realised it was Sarah.
“Alex.” She sounded surprised.
“Hi Sarah.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to talk to you about … things.”
They went inside. She was still in her Winnie the Pooh pyjamas even though it was almost lunchtime.
“Hard night?” said Alex.
She nodded.
“Where’s your mum?” asked Alex.
“Don’t know. She left a note but I haven’t read it.”
Alex wondered how to begin. He decided for the direct approach. “I saw you kissing Billy last night. Billy Johnstone.”
She blinked, but otherwise her expression didn’t change. If Alex had expected her to break down in tears of guilt, he would have been disappointed.
“Is that what you’ve come to tell me?”
