Paradise Road

by C. J. Duggan

  Awful, sad, heart wrenching …

  ‘Pathetic,’ she said, shaking her head.

  I laughed, trying to lighten the mood a little. ‘Oh, I don’t know. I really feel for him, it must be hard.’

  ‘Seriously, though, he needs to just get over it, it’s just becoming tragic.’

  I could feel the hair rise on the back of my neck at the mention of that word. It was how Amanda had once described me.

  ‘He needs to just man up. I mean, look at you. Ballantine didn’t even come and say goodbye and I don’t see you moping about, you’ve got over it.’

  Okay, now I was getting mad.

  I wasn’t over it. I took a deep, calming breath. With the mood Laura was in and her stance on the subject I really didn’t feel like arguing the point with her.

  I had come here for answers; Lord knows I had a million questions, even more so since hearing about Amanda and Boon. It felt like everything had changed. I took a steadying breath, preparing to launch into them, to ask about Ballantine, and Amanda and Boon, when her words interrupted my thoughts.

  ‘So, have you found somewhere to stay?’ she asked. ‘I did ask Mum about you staying here.’

  My eyes snapped up; I straightened in my chair. ‘Oh?’

  ‘Yeah, she said no,’ she said matter-of-factly – typical blunt Laura. ‘But she wondered if you’d tried any of the teachers? Sometimes they put up foreign exchange students. Principal Fitzgibbons and his family put up Fabrizio from Italy last year.’

  I burst out laughing until I caught the confused look on Laura’s face. ‘Oh God, you were serious?’

  ‘Beggars can’t be choosers, Lexie. Dad said boarding anywhere in Paradise is really expensive and all the good places are taken.’

  This was something that I had feared, but as far as shacking up with Mr Fitzgibbons, the balding, bowtie wearing principal of Paradise High and his family, was concerned, that was not going to happen. I would sooner go back to Red Hole and die from a broken heart.

  Chapter Two

  ‘Are you sure you don’t want to come over tonight?’

  I dragged my feet down the hall.

  ‘What, and spoon with you and Amanda? No, thanks,’ laughed Laura.

  ‘We could crash in the lounge or something.’

  ‘Considering the circumstances,’ Laura nodded her head towards Boon, who still hadn’t moved from his beanbag, ‘it’s probably not a good idea.’

  What? Oh, now she was thinking of her brother? Puh-lease.

  I shrugged. ‘Whatever; you’re a terrible friend.’

  Laura laughed. ‘Piss off.’

  ‘I don’t approve of your language, Laura. You’ve changed.’

  We made our way through the dim lounge room. ‘Boon, Lexie’s leaving now.’ Laura yelled it out as though she was talking to a deaf, senile old lady.

  Boon raised his hand in acknowledgment.

  And then I remembered the day Mum had charged into my room when I was in the depths of despair, ripped the blankets off me and demanded I move, waking me out of my self-indulgent stupor. It didn’t solve all my problems, but at least it had gotten me out of the house and doing something: mani, pedi and shopping. I looked at Boon, thinking, okay, I wouldn’t exactly recommend taking him to get a makeover, but I could surely try Mum’s method.

  Laura hovered in the doorway waiting to walk me out but instead of joining her I marched straight towards Boon, ripped the game controller from his hands and moved to turn the TV off.

  ‘Hey, what the fuck?’ he spat out.

  ‘Up!’ I said in my best motherly, take-no-shit voice.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Shut up! You are giving me a lift,’ I said, as if it wasn’t up for negotiation.

  Boon blinked, his face full of thunder as if seeing me for the first time. He scoffed. ‘I’m not taking you anywhere.’

  ‘Yes, you are and you’re even going to have a shower before you do, so hurry the fuck up,’ I said loudly.

  Okay, so Mum would never have said that to me in a million years. Still, this was a stubborn, heartbroken boy. I needed to be ruthless.

  Boon sat there, glowering at me for so long I thought we were in a staring competition, and for pride’s sake I really didn’t want to lose. Just when I thought he wasn’t going to budge and I would have to leave him wallowing in self-pity, he moved. The beanbag rustled and he slowly pulled himself to stand as elegantly as you possibly could out of a beanbag. He stood before me, intimidatingly close, his eyes burning into mine.

  ‘Who are you? And what have you done with that mousey farm girl Lexie Atkinson?’ he asked, his serious eyes ticking over my face as if I were a stranger.

  A small smile kinked the corner of my mouth. ‘You know what, Boon, you just gave me the compliment of my life.’

  Boon’s hardness melted, only a little, but I saw it. ‘I think I liked the old Lexie better,’ he mumbled, running his hands through his dishevelled hair and looking at the scattered rubbish around his beanbag as if seeing it for the first time. He shuffled out of the lounge to (I hoped) have a shower before giving me a lift back to Aunty Karen’s.

  ‘And have a shave,’ I yelled out after him.

  He scoffed. ‘Don’t push your bloody luck,’ he said before slamming the bathroom door behind him.

  I smiled.

  Laura moved to stand beside me. ‘What did you just do?’ She looked at me in amazement. ‘Seriously, how?’

  ‘Sometimes people just need a bit of tough love,’ I said.

  ‘Oh, don’t worry, I’ve been giving him plenty of tough love.’

  ‘Sometimes, though, there is a difference between giving tough love and –’

  ‘I know, I know, being compassionate.’ Laura cut me off, rolling her eyes.

  ‘Actually, I was going to say “being an arsehole”.’

  Laura did a double-take. ‘Are you calling me an arsehole, Lexie?’

  Without acknowledging the question, I just grinned. ‘Tell Boon I’ll be out by the car.’

  •

  Not wanting to rub salt into the wound I had Boon drop me off at the Black Cat Café, only a few blocks from the house. The last thing he needed was a potential run-in with Amanda.

  I sat in a booth opposite him, wincing at the rate he was scoffing his triple-chocolate sundae.

  ‘You’re going to get a brain freeze at that rate,’ I warned.

  ‘Isn’t this the point where you joke about me not having a brain?’ He looked up with a cheeky chocolatey grin. It was a good thing to see a hint of the old Boon.

  ‘Don’t tempt me.’ I laughed, sipping on my iced coffee.

  We had driven there in silence, ordered and sat down with the awkwardness of a blind date. But all that had melted away the second the ice-cream arrived. There was something truly magical about ice-cream.

  Much to Boon’s credit he hadn’t mentioned Amanda once, didn’t ask me awkward questions even though he knew that I was living under the same roof as her and would be privy to inside information. I was glad he hadn’t but then I desperately wanted to ask about Ballantine. Oh screw it, I thought, I couldn’t keep tiptoeing around the subject. Better to go straight to the source: Ballantine’s best friend?

  I stirred the cream through my drink, psyching myself up. Had he mentioned me? Missed me? Partied hard without a care and bedded some random girl for the rebound? I felt sick. I pushed away my drink, ready to ask the question, the question I had been too afraid to ask Laura.

  ‘Hey, Boon, can I ask you something?’

  Boon scooped up the last of the chocolate syrup from his glass sundae boat. ‘I guess,’ he shrugged.

  I cleared my throat, rubbing away the condensation from my glass. ‘How’s Ballantine?’

  It was such a simple yet intense question for me; I wanted so desperately for the answer to be ‘devastated, incomplete, a shell of a man since you left’, but I was terrified the answer would very much be the opposite. So I quickly filled in the silence. ‘Is he
still working at the Wipe Out Bar?’ Yes, that was smart, Lexie, find out when he’s working next, that was the best bet.

  Boon pushed aside his sundae bowl, snaring a serviette from the dispenser and wiping the excess chocolate off his face, all the while a line creasing his brow as though he was rolling my questions over in his mind.

  ‘Laura didn’t tell you?’ he asked.

  ‘Tell me what?’

  Boon scrunched up his serviette and placed it in the dish, his eyes locking with mine in confusion. ‘He left.’

  ‘The Wipe Out Bar? When?’

  Boon shook his head. ‘He hasn’t just left the Wipe Out Bar, Lex.’

  ‘W– what?’

  ‘He’s gone … from Paradise.’

  Chapter Three

  ‘Gone?’ I said, a little too loudly.

  Boon looked uncomfortable now. ‘Yeah, gone. He and Boppo and a few others upped boards and went to Bali.’

  My shoulders melted in relief. ‘Oh, he’s gone on a holiday,’ I said.

  ‘Well, not exactly. Bali was the first stop; they’ve been called up for a potential sponsorship, but that bit’s a secret – that’s not to leave this table.’

  ‘Really? Oh my God, Boon, that’s amazing.’

  Admittedly I knew jack about surfing but I knew enough to know that if you were good enough to get a sponsorship then you were kind of a big deal. I’d heard them talk about it often enough and the general consensus was Ballantine was definitely good enough, I just never knew he wanted it. Obviously there was a lot I didn’t know.

  ‘Yeah, I guess.’ Boon shrugged, picking at a knot in the timber of the tabletop. It suddenly dawned on me that this was probably not great news for Boon at all.

  ‘W– why didn’t you go with them?’ I knew I shouldn’t have asked, I knew it the second Boon’s expression darkened, as if almost pained by the words as he turned his head to stare out the window of the café.

  ‘What, Laura didn’t tell you that either?’ he scoffed.

  I sighed. ‘Obviously there’s a lot Laura didn’t tell me.’

  Boon’s eyes flashed darkly, meeting mine with a flare of deep anger. ‘I’m repeating Year Twelve,’ he said.

  I didn’t know what to say. I simply stared at Boon, helpless and wordless, which probably just made things worse.

  Broken up with Amanda, repeating Year Twelve and missing out on a surf tour was pretty much the trifecta of despair right there.

  ‘Do you want to talk about …’

  ‘No!’ he said adamantly. I didn’t need to be told twice.

  I cleared my throat, trying to think of something to say, a change of subject perhaps, but try as I might my mind kept coming back to one selfish question at the forefront of my thoughts.

  ‘So how long does the tour last for?’

  A week, a month? Deep breath. I could wait; I mean, I wasn’t going anywhere and it wouldn’t be easy but I could wait, I had to see him, to explain, to set it right …

  ‘A year, maybe more.’

  ‘WHAT?!’ I shouted, drawing the attention of the staff and other customers.

  Boon grimaced, motioning for me to take it down a peg or two. ‘Jesus, Lexie, people are looking at us.’

  My mouth gaped, as the full-fledged feeling of disbelief slammed into me. ‘A year?’ I repeated, almost afraid to say the words because it seemed to make them real.

  Ballantine knew I’d be coming back, he knew I had to finish Year Twelve, but he hadn’t stuck around. And why would he when, to him, there was nothing to hold on to? In his mind I had lied about Dean, indicating there was more going on than I had admitted to. That stupid bloody incriminating note in all its innocence had looked really bad.

  But the more I thought about it, the more angry I got. If he had just come and said goodbye, confronted me instead of being a coward, all this would have been so very different.

  ‘Like you said, Lexie, it’s an amazing opportunity, one that was too good to refuse.’ Boon was trying to be reasonable.

  But I was not in a reasonable mood, far from it. I simply nodded. ‘Look, I’m going to go, thanks for the ride,’ I said, shouldering my bag and sliding out of the booth. I’d almost made it out when Boon grabbed my arm.

  ‘Forget him, Lexie, you’re better off just moving on,’ he said, his lips pressing together in a grim line.

  ‘What choice has he given me but to move on?’ I said to Boon before walking away.

  •

  It felt like my heart was breaking all over again, but I knew there was one place that would make me feel better.

  I had forgotten about the searing heat of the sun in Paradise. I could feel it burning into my skin. I really wished I had changed out of my jeans first. This was a journey that saw me stepping over the wooden barrier at the end of the street, breaking the line from melting bitumen to grassy embankment down to sand, stepping awkwardly down the steep concrete steps crudely chiselled in the landscape. It was no easy feat to watch your steps and gaze out at the horizon at the same time. I took a moment to stop, to look out and admire the view before me. The ocean was choppy and murky, the wind was blowing my hair into my eyes, momentarily robbing me of the sight of the waves breaking on the sand.

  The scene wasn’t as peaceful and calming as I’d hoped it would be, but much like everything about today, nothing was as I’d expected. I walked down the last of the steps, pausing to take off my shoes and roll up my jeans before stepping onto the beach. I felt the soft sand under my feet as I walked to the water’s edge, the cool powerful surge of the waves washing over my feet.

  I inhaled a deep, salty breath, closing my eyes and lifting my face to the sky. I exhaled, long and slow. I had to fight against the wind and the power of the waves, which seemed as if they wanted to devour me. They weren’t how I’d remembered them. Today they didn’t seem friendly or inviting. I could definitely see a pattern here.

  Maybe I was just being a Debbie Downer but I felt lost. I believed, naively as it’d turned out, that I’d return to Paradise and all my cares would melt away – I would track down Ballantine, explain the note, rekindle what once was, get a job and a place to stay before school started and, hello, amazing new life. It had all seemed so simple, but the reality was not working out the way I’d imagined.

  What am I going to do? Where to start?

  One thing was for sure, I was going to learn from my mistakes. I wasn’t going to get myself into the same mess as before. I would start ‘Operation get your shit together Lexie’ first thing tomorrow. But first I had to shake this feeling of hopelessness, of thinking that what lay before me was impossible. I needed to wipe the slate clean, and just as the thought came to me I smiled, raking my hands through my hair and catching it at the nape of my neck.

  Could I? Should I?

  But before I could over-analyse like I tended to do, I started to slowly step into the water, going beyond the point of fear as the cold, frothy waves lapped at my shins, then my knees, thighs, waist until I dived in just before the next wave hit and before I had a chance to remember my fear of sharks. I broke through the surface, gasping in shock as I tried to scrabble and find purchase with my feet on the sand. My heart pounded in my chest. As soon as I got my bearings something unusual happened: I started to laugh, laugh like a lunatic as I revelled in the thrill of doing something that I would never have done before. The ocean terrified me and I wanted no part of it, and yet here I was, feeling the thrill of facing what scared me. The cold water cooled my skin and, as if by some cleansing miracle, washed away that hopeless feeling. All of a sudden I knew with utmost certainty that by stepping into something head on and facing my fears, I could do anything. I felt the water wash over me and my outlook was never clearer.

  Tomorrow I would take the first step towards changing my life forever.

  Chapter Four

  Okay, so it had seemed like a good idea at the time.

  I now stood on the nature strip in front of Aunty Karen’s house with a pool of seawa
ter dripping around me, looking and feeling like a giant drowned rat. I had to have a think about how I was going to do this, because going inside soaking wet was not an option. Even with Aunty Karen’s car noticeably absent, I really didn’t want to risk it. I wouldn’t put it past Aunty Karen to employ infrared technology to track my dirty footprints. I padded my way up the path. Unlatching the side gate that led around to the back of the house, I just needed to get back to the pool area, to the garden hose, to wash off the sand that was everywhere.

  After hosing all the sand away and shuddering at the cold feeling on my sun-kissed skin, I wrung my hair out and glanced through the window, making sure no-one was home. Before anything else could happen, I had to get these jeans off. With each squeaky¸ soppy step I had taken on the way home, one thing I was painfully aware of was how much tighter my jeans felt, and before my circulation was cut off permanently, I had to get them off me. Slowly and rather painfully, I edged them over my hips, awkwardly peeling off the soaking wet denim that had almost become an unwanted second skin.

  Breathing a sigh of relief, I flipped them over the back of the sun lounge before throwing myself onto the cushions, flaking out in my knickers and t-shirt – so ladylike. I shielded my eyes against the blistering yellow disc in the sky – at least I would dry quickly.

  After what had been the longest day ever, I closed my eyes, enjoying the sensation of the sun on my salty skin …

  Until, inevitably, I was broken from my peaceful slumber. ‘What are you doing?’

  I jolted awake, squinting up, disorientated. The shadow that loomed over me with a look of disgust was Amanda.

  ‘Why are you lying around in my backyard in your undies?’

  I sat bolt upright, stretching the fabric of my t-shirt down in mortification.

  Amanda simply shook her head. ‘Jesus, Lexie, you’re not in Red Hill anymore. Put your clothes on,’ she said, moving to the back door.

  •

  After showering and making myself decent again, I wiped the steam away from the mirror, and paused in horror. ‘Oh crap!’