Raw

by Scott Monk

  Caitlyn struggled in his grip until she broke free. He chased after her but gave up when he saw she was going to be stubborn about this. Standing in the middle of the road, he watched her storm back towards the main street. He shook with anger. He didn’t know how he could despise somebody so much and love them at the same time.

  ‘Fine!’ he shouted. ‘I never loved you anyway!’

  Caitlyn paused and he smiled. That made her think. But she kept walking towards home with even more determination. He hadn’t expected that. He wanted her to cry or stop and run back to him and say she’d made a mistake. But she didn’t. And his words echoed loudly through Mungindi’s empty streets.

  He jumped into the ute and caned it. The speedometer hit 110 as he shot out of town. He hunched over the steering wheel, fuming. All he could think about was Caitlyn’s soft skin and then being thrown back like he had done something wrong. 120 … 130 … 140 … The ute started to shudder at the higher speeds. But Brett didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything. Especially her.

  He stomped on the brakes. Gravel and stones binked against the belly of the ute as it fishtailed to a complete halt. The sudden stop threw him forward and jarred his sore arm again. He cursed and blamed Caitlyn once more. His anger fired up but this time he tried controlling it with slow breaths. He looked out into the blackness of night and at the lights of Mungindi. His mind ticked in rhythm with the metallic dripping of the cooling engine. All he could think about was Caitlyn, unfazed, ignoring him and storming home.

  URRNNNTTTTT!

  He hit the horn. He had to turn back and sort this out. Not that he wanted to. She’d stood him up.

  He floored it up the main street again. He drove across the Barwon River and followed the most logical direction she would have taken home. He didn’t find her, however. Okay, maybe she took a back street just in case she knew he would come looking for her. Nope. That was fruitless too. He drove down every street and alleyway twice and on both sides of the border but still couldn’t find her. The more he looked, the more frustrated he got. She was hiding or avoiding him or both. She’d only had a five minute head start. There was no way she could’ve left town in that time. He had to face it. She was gone.

  Brett swung the ute round and started for home. He was only wasting his time looking for her now. After this night nothing between them would be the same anyway. He’d hurt her — and strangely enough he’d enjoyed it.

  The headlights spotted a girl sitting on a grassy embankment across from a pub. Brett’s heartbeat quickened. Clutching a beer bottle, the girl shielded her eyes. He recognised the hair! It had to be her!

  He pulled over and opened the passenger door.

  ‘Hello, stranger,’ Rebecca said, realising who it was after double-checking the cab. ‘What are you doing out this late at night?’

  ‘Looking for company,’ Brett answered. His ex looked a bit downtrodden but at least she wasn’t too smashed yet.

  ‘Really? What’s the matter? You and the brunette didn’t work out?’

  Brett flinched. She knew him too well. ‘No.’

  Rebecca raised an eyebrow. ‘Too bad then.’ And, leaning through the window, she said, ‘If you’re after some company for the night, you’ve found some. We’ve got a lot of — what you could call — catching up to do.’

  Brett felt those old feelings for Rebecca again but this time he didn’t fight them. ‘Get in,’ he said.

  ‘Where are we headed?’ she asked.

  ‘Somewhere private.’

  She paused, checking she’d heard right. ‘Got a place to stay? I’m kind of between places at the moment.’

  ‘Don’t worry. We’ll find one.’

  Brett then kicked the accelerator and didn’t stop. Even when he and Rebecca passed Caitlyn walking along the street.

  His stomach woke up before he did. It churned and burned until he realised he was going to be sick. Quickly, he kicked open the driver’s door and staggered ten metres across a paddock before hurling. The pale, chunky orange mess splattered over his hands and jeans where he knelt, and he chucked a second time just at the sight of it.

  After wiping his mouth, he crawled back towards the ute, scratched at the door for a boost-up to get back inside but gave up on the fourth attempt. His fingers weren’t working properly. Instead, he fell back against a tyre and held onto his head to stop it exploding. The smell of sick was vile but it kept him from falling unconscious again.

  He sat there for five? ten? — who knows how many minutes. His throat was dry and he desperately wanted a drink. He would’ve settled for a dam but his body was too heavy to lift. He doubted he could have found one without hurling again in his condition anyway.

  All he could see were yellow fields and grey trees. He reckoned there was a road nearby but he wasn’t sure. The excruciating grating noise he heard could have been cars or insects or tractor engines around him for all he knew. What he did know, however, was that he was sitting in a ditch. So was the ute.

  The ute!

  Sam would kill him! The old man had told him to bring it back straight away. But straight away was … was … he didn’t know how long ago. It was a new day, which was bad. Whatever time it was, he was in a lot of trouble. A lot of trouble.

  And he was right.

  After a farmer discovered him and the ute, Brett phoned Sam to tell him what had happened. The old man arrived at the farmer’s house faster than humanly possible.

  The second they were out of earshot, Sam spat it. And he didn’t spare the rage. He shouted at Brett, pointed at him, shook him. He wasn’t just furious that Brett had crashed the ute but that he had nearly got himself killed drink driving too. Thumbs hitched into his pockets, Brett stared at the ground while Sam shouted. Inside the car, he looked out the window and mumbled, ‘Yer, of course!’ when the old man demanded, ‘Are you listening to me?’

  It didn’t end there. Back at The Farm, Sam threw Brett into a chair to shout his ears off. ‘How could you betray my trust?’ he kept on ranting. ‘Where did you get the beer?’ ‘Why’d you steal it?’ ‘Who were you with?’ ‘Did you and Josh plan this whole thing?’ ‘Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kick both of you out of here.’

  ‘I don’t know, all right?’ Brett finally shouted back.

  ‘You better, mate, because it could be the difference between you staying here or being sent to jail.’

  ‘I know which would be better.’

  ‘What did you just say?’

  ‘Jail would be better than listening to you shout at me!’

  ‘Watch what you say, Brett. I might just do that if the cops don’t first.’

  Brett slapped the screen door behind him and marched back to his dorm before the old man was finished. He couldn’t care less about Sam’s threat. After everything that had happened, his life was a mess anyway. Sending him to Sydney would get him out of this hole. He’d be free of Sam. The Farm. Mungindi. Rebecca. And especially Caitlyn. His parents would be disappointed, of course, but in the Dalton family that wasn’t new when it came to their only son.

  Brett tried retreating into his room but Sam chased after him and forced him to work. He cleaned the toilets. Twice. He chopped wood. He shovelled manure. He pulled weeds from the vegetable patch. He scrubbed the rust off oil drums. He cleared stones from the driveway. All under Sam’s gaze. And his reward? No lunch or dinner.

  Worse though was that the guys had found out about the break up. It had been the only thing they’d talked about all day. ‘What’s wrong? Found out she was pregnant, did she? Ha ha ha!’

  Brett pegged a large rock into the paddock, causing the old grump to bark at him again.

  He was like this for several days. He eventually shut out his friends who’d lost all sympathy for him. Sam’s anger didn’t fade and the pair got into a fight every day until the old man gave up. He’d have to send Brett back to the magistrate.

  Come Thursday, Brett staggered back inside the house. He had another five days here un
til the cops were available to pick him up for the journey home. He couldn’t wait. He washed his face then looked in the mirror. A total mess. He hadn’t shaved or combed. And he felt the way he looked. But he didn’t care. The dorms were empty but not for long. Class would end soon and everybody would be heading back, laughing like nothing bad had happened. Brett wanted out before they did.

  He grabbed his pack from his top drawer and headed outside for a smoke. Puffing away, he sat on a bench, not too fussed who saw him. No one could say anything to hurt him more than he was feeling already.

  He was half-finished when he heard the truck. It wove along the driveway, the driver fighting the gears, then parked outside the homestead. A man and a girl climbed down from the cabin to unload supplies. Brett’s heart went crazy again. It was Caitlyn. He’d been waiting for her.

  She heard his crunching footsteps and glanced over her shoulder. Mr Thompson said hello as she seized one of two boxes and started for the kitchen.

  ‘Caitlyn, I want to talk to you for a minute,’ Brett said.

  ‘You’ve said what you wanted to say.’

  ‘Caitlyn — ouch!’ The gravel bit into his soles, forcing him to tiptoe after her. ‘Stop, would you? Just give me a minute.’

  She didn’t answer, disappearing into The House instead.

  Brett followed her and blocked her from leaving. ‘Look, I’m sorry, all right?’

  ‘Let me out, please.’

  ‘No, not until you hear what I have to say.’

  ‘I’ve heard enough. Now let me out.’

  She made a break for it but he stayed put. With a huff, she crossed her arms. ‘Move it.’

  ‘No. I want to say sorry for the other night.’

  ‘And I heard you.’

  ‘Does that mean you forgive me?’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Caitlyn.’

  ‘Look stop it! Nothing you say will make up for the other night.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because you hurt me. The minute you said what you said, we were no longer friends.’

  Brett stopped dumbstruck. She’d told him what he didn’t want to hear.

  Carrying the second box of supplies, Mr Thompson pulled up behind the two of them. ‘Is everything all right here?’ It gave Caitlyn a chance to escape and she pushed through Brett’s blockade.

  ‘But I love you!’

  ‘If you loved me you wouldn’t have hurt me like this,’ she said outside.

  ‘It was a mistake. Everyone makes them.’

  ‘Then I’d be making one forgiving you.’

  ‘But you’re my girlfriend, Caitlyn.’

  ‘I’m not your girlfriend. You don’t own me. No one does. I’m me. I do what I want to do — not what you want me to do.’

  She opened the truck’s passenger door and slammed it behind her. He tried opening it, but she banged down the lock first.

  ‘Hey, don’t go. I need you,’ he begged.

  ‘You don’t need me.’

  ‘Yes I do. You’re everything. Since I’ve known you my life’s been fantastic. But now —’

  ‘You’ll find someone else — like that whore.’

  ‘Whore? What whore?’

  ‘You know who I’m talking about.’

  ‘Rebecca?’

  ‘Yes. The same person you picked up the other night.’

  ‘I didn’t pick her up.’

  ‘Yer, right.’

  She froze him with her cold eyes, turning away only when Mr Thompson reemerged from the homestead with Sam and headed for the truck.

  ‘I didn’t sleep with her,’ Brett said. ‘Honest.’

  ‘Don’t lie to me.’

  ‘I’m not.’

  ‘Why should I believe you?’

  ‘Because it’s the truth.’

  Caitlyn shook her head. She was too hurt and upset to see that he wasn’t lying. She wanted to believe that he’d slept with Rebecca so as she’d have an excuse to hate him forever.

  Mr Thompson bounced into the driver’s seat. He looked at Brett then Caitlyn and asked if everything was okay. She said yes and reminded him that they were late for the next drop-off.

  ‘Give me a chance,’ Brett said.

  ‘You’re lying,’ she said. ‘You’re still trying to hurt me. I thought you were different to all the other guys. But now …’

  The truck drove away.

  Brett chased after it. ‘Caitlyn! Caitlyn!’ he shouted.

  But she was gone.

  Brett couldn’t breathe!

  A hand was holding his nose and another was covering his mouth. He opened his eyes but couldn’t see his attacker in the darkness. He kicked violently and screamed and struggled — anything so as he could breathe again!

  ‘Boo!’ the attacker said, hotly in his ear.

  The hands let go and Brett quickly gulped down lungfuls of air. He swallowed so much that he started coughing.

  ‘Scared you, did I?’

  ‘Rebecca?’

  ‘Who else would break into your room at night?’

  Brett switched on the lamp next to him. Sure enough it was her and not Tyson. The red hair was unmistakable, not to mention the voice. She was smiling. At him. She thought smothering him was funny!

  ‘What are you doing here?’ he hissed.

  ‘I came to see you,’ she said, sitting next to him on his bed.

  ‘I can see that. What do you want?’

  She gave Brett that cutesy girl smile of hers and traced a single finger down his chest. ‘To see if we can finish what we started the other night.’

  ‘Don’t,’ he said, swatting away her hand. ‘I don’t want to.’

  ‘Sure you do.’

  He shivered at her touch then grabbed her hand before she got any further. ‘Don’t, I said.’

  He let go and angrily pulled on a T-shirt. Digging through the mess of clothes on the floor, he searched for a pair of shorts.

  ‘You could have left that off, you know,’ Rebecca said, wrapping her arms round him from behind. She grabbed the bottom of his T-shirt and started taking it off.

  ‘Rebecca, stop it! I said no.’

  He shouldered her off him then stood up to get away, found his shorts and quickly hopped into them.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked, standing up too. ‘If it’s that kid you room with, he won’t mind. We could probably teach him a few things.’

  ‘I’m not interested, okay?’ He slipped away from her again then opened a drawer. He found his pack of smokes and shook it. Empty. He threw it away.

  ‘You were the other night …’ Rebecca said, keeping her distance this time. Her voice had lost its perkiness.

  ‘Nothing happened the other night.’

  ‘I know. That’s why I’m here. I want to know what the other night was all about. You pick me up then drop me off in the middle of nowhere just when we got started.’

  ‘It was a mistake, okay?’

  ‘It didn’t seem like one to me.’ And when Brett didn’t answer, she added, ‘It’s got something to do with that brunette, hasn’t it? She stood you up, huh?’

  ‘She didn’t stand me up.’

  ‘Then what did she do? Tell you it was over? Say she’d found another guy? Say you weren’t up to her standards? Or didn’t she put out?’

  ‘Leave Caitlyn out of this,’ he snapped.

  ‘That’s it, isn’t it?’ Rebecca said, walking over to the window. ‘Couldn’t get it on with her so you tried it with me. I don’t know whether I should be flattered or offended.’

  ‘You better leave.’

  ‘No. I don’t want to.’

  ‘I’ll call Sam. If he finds you here, he’ll phone the cops.’

  ‘Go ahead,’ she answered, sitting on the drawers. ‘Call him. See if I care.’

  Brett glared at her, hoping she’d get out of there, but it didn’t work. She just looked smugly back at him, knowing that he wouldn’t.

  ‘It looks like you’re stuck with me then.’

  �
��Oh no I’m not. You’re going home.’

  She stood up again. ‘Not till I get what I came for.’

  She grabbed Brett and kissed him. She tried to pull his shirt off again but he quickly broke free and shoved her away.

  ‘I said no! I’m not interested!’

  It didn’t matter. She tried it again. This time she ripped his shirt.

  ‘Get away from me!’

  He backed out of reach and looked at her, his heart pounding in his throat. His body was saying “yes” but his conscience “no”. Sleeping with Rebecca would be a mistake. Just like Caitlyn thought sleeping with him would be.

  Caitlyn.

  So this was how she felt. He was all over her and she was terrified. He wanted sex but she didn’t.

  ‘Don’t you care about your boyfriend?’ he said, nearly shouting.

  ‘What about him? He probably sleeps round as much as I do.’

  Brett caught himself, not wanting to believe what she’d just said. He’d been her boyfriend once too.

  ‘You’re disgusting,’ he said.

  ‘And you’re not?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Picking me up the other night and leading me on. You were just as faithful to your brunette as I am to my man.’

  ‘No, there’s a difference. I realised I was wrong and stopped us from going any further. You keep on running round behind his back.’

  ‘So does he.’

  ‘But that doesn’t make it right.’

  ‘Says you. As long as we love each other —’

  ‘That’s not love. It’s — it’s pathetic.’

  ‘And what? You’re some big expert on it now? You think after falling in love with some country chick you can now tell me how to treat my boyfriend? The same chick you dumped for me?’

  ‘I didn’t dump her for you. You were just there at the time. And funnily enough, that doesn’t surprise me.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘You know.’

  ‘No, tell me.’

  Shaking his head, Brett looked away. ‘C’mon. Don’t play dumb. Everybody knows about you here. It’s a small town. People talk.’

  Rebecca paused, anger reddening her cheeks. ‘I think I might leave after all,’ she said finally.