by Karen West
I elbowed Libby. ‘It’s him!’
‘Him? Him who?’ Her eyes were darting ahead.
‘The boy I mentioned. The boy at the hospital.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yeah, I’m sure,’ I said, slipping off my pack and handing it to her. ‘Take this.’
‘Steph,’ she sighed, as I got up to stand behind him and followed him off the bus, along the footpath and through the school gate.
‘Excuse me,’ I called. The boy from the hospital stopped walking and faced me. I stared into his light brown eyes and the words melted in my mouth.
‘Can I help you?’ He didn’t recognise me.
‘You were at the hospital a few weeks ago.’ His face went from vague to dark, which was awkward. I put my hand out between us. ‘Ummm, I’m sorry, I thought you might have recognised me.’ I glanced back over my shoulder to Libby, and started walking backwards.
His face softened. ‘You were at St Vincent’s Hospital?’ I stopped walking. ‘I remember you.’
‘Stephanie Conner,’ I went on to say, offering my hand, and he took it. His was soft, and mine was hot and sweaty. ‘You can call me Steph. I mean, if you want, or maybe you don’t.’
‘Hi Steph, I’m Richard Delaney,’ he said. I released his hand and stepped back awkwardly. ‘You can call me Richard.’
I detected a hint of sarcasm, which was a shame because I liked him. I wanted to walk away, but instead, I put his possible sarcasm aside. ‘Maybe we could catch up at lunch?’ I couldn’t believe I said that.
‘Yeah, sure,’ he said, taking me by surprise.
‘Oh, right, great,’ I added, and pointed across the rolling grass to the far end of the school, where there was a corrugated iron shed next to the veggie garden. ‘I’ll meet you at the shed, unless you’d prefer …’
Richard smiled. ‘The shed’s cool.’ Unlike Greg’s teeth that were locked in braces, Richard’s were perfect.
‘Great. I’ll meet you there.’ I gave him a wave and made my way back to Libby.
‘Thanks, Libby,’ I said, taking my pack from her.
‘You’re joking, right?’ she squealed, her eyes wide with curiosity. ‘Don’t you dare keep me in suspense, Steph. Was it the same boy or not?’
‘Yeah, it was him.’
‘Well, what did he say?’
I looked across the quadrangle in search of Richard and caught him peering back at me. I flicked my hair and smiled. ‘We’re meeting up. I won’t be around at lunch.’
I caught Libby giving him the once over. ‘I think he likes you.’
‘I think he’s complicated.’
‘Being complicated is heaps better than being boring.’
‘Yeah, I guess.’
Chapter Six
‘YOU’RE KIDDING ME,’ I heard, and caught Willow shaking her head, yanking at the bristles on her paint brush. I turned to the front of the class to see Mr Leppington – he couldn’t paint if his superannuation depended on it.
Disappointment tugged at my creativity. I leaned towards Willow. ‘I thought Ms Benetti’s maternity leave started next month?’ I whispered.
Willow shrugged. ‘Babies can come early,’ she whispered back.
I took a deep breath and concentrated on meeting up with Richard. I was curious to know what had happened at the hospital. Who was the person attached to the leads? Did the person die? Is that why he was crying?
Leppington cruised the classroom with his hands in his pockets. He stopped at my easel, stretched his wrinkled neck, grunted, and backed away. I willed the bell to ring, which made the hands on the clock above Leppington’s desk tick in slow motion.
‘Psst, hey,’ whispered Libby standing at the door. Mr Leppington cleared his throat and she disappeared into the corridor. But the moment Leppington was on the other side of the room, Libby scurried into the classroom and slipped behind my easel.
‘I’m meeting Richard,’ I reminded her.
‘Yeah, I know, but Willow said that Grant was quizzing her about you.’
‘Why?’
Libby shrugged. ‘No idea. Maybe he wants to ask you out. If you think Richard is complicated – skip meeting up with him.’
‘But you’re the one who encouraged me,’ I said, annoyed.
‘All I’m saying is if he ends up being too needy, back away, that’s all.’
‘I can’t just not turn up,’ I said, confused.
Libby raised her eyebrow. ‘Do what you have to.’
Leppington came up from behind. ‘When you girls are finished being disruptive, let me know,’ he broadcasted, and my skin crawled.
‘Finished, sir,’ said Libby, as she backed out the door, leaving me with him.
I made my way down the corridor, out the back door and headed for the veggie garden. I sat on the bench and stared through the chicken wire at celery stalks that had gone to seed and a row of shrivelled-up lettuce.
As I put my hand over my eyes to cut the glare, Richard came into view. He stopped in front of me, clasping a brown paper lunch bag with beetroot juice seeping through the bottom. ‘You’d better sit before you lose your lunch,’ I told him.
He lifted the bag and slipped his hand under. ‘Oh, thanks.’
I opened my lunch box. ‘Dad packs my lunch,’ I told him. ‘He still thinks that I’m in kindergarten.’ I reached in and took out a packet of cream cheese and crackers.
Richard stared into my lunch box and started pointing with his finger. ‘Cheese sticks are a nice touch, and more crackers, Ovalteenies, sultanas with a pic of Bart Simpson on the pack.’ He laughed. ‘Where’s the sandwich?’
I reached in and took a sandwich from the bottom. I half expected the filling to be hundreds and thousands, but was pleasantly surprised to see ham and cheese.
There was an awkward silence. I decided to explain why I was at the hospital. ‘They thought that my mum might have suffered a heart attack, but she didn’t.’ My throat choked up. Richard bit on his lip, and squeezed his sandwich with the tips of his fingers. ‘She’s back home,’ I added, in case he thought that she had died.
Richard released his lip. ‘My brother died that night,’ he blurted out. I wasn’t prepared.
‘Excuse me?’
‘My brother, Michael, he died.’
I wanted to reach out and touch him, show him that he wasn’t alone, share my warmth, but I hardly knew him. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said, ‘that’s terrible.’
‘Yeah,’ he said, avoiding eye contact, with his head down. ‘He was only eighteen, a year older than me.’ He lifted his head. He was tearing up.
‘I work at the zoo,’ I shared, steering the conversation away from the pain of losing his brother. ‘I’m a junior zookeeper. I feed and groom the animals, clean out their smelly stalls, which isn’t as disgusting as it sounds. I don’t work every day, just weekends and school holidays.’ I took a bite of my sandwich to stop the words from dribbling from my mouth.
Richard’s eyes met mine. ‘So, what do you do when you’re not working?’
I swallowed and took a sip of water. ‘I paint.’
‘An artist,’ he said, revealing a genuine interest.
‘Do you paint?’ I asked enthusiastically.
‘No, but it sounds like a neat thing to do.’
‘I also like snorkelling, but we haven’t been back to Palmy since Mum’s been unwell.’ I went back to eating.
‘Michael loved the water too. He was an excellent surfer.’
I put my hand over my mouth. ‘Where does …? Sorry, I mean, where did he surf ?’ A question that was way too early to ask.
‘Bronte,’ he said, and an eerie quietness settled around us like a cloud.
‘I haven’t seen you at school before. You’re new here, right?’
Richard placed his sandwich on the bag beside him and wiped his hands on the front of his pants. He took a deep breath, and his cheeks ballooned when he exhaled. ‘Michael was in his last year; we went to Waverly College. I couldn’t go ba
ck. Too many memories, if you know what I mean.’
‘Probably best.’
He nodded. ‘Yeah, I think so, but my parents aren’t sure that the move was a good idea. What do you paint?’
‘Ummm, all sorts of stuff, mainly animals and zoo scenes. My work is in the shop at the zoo.’
The corners of his mouth curved up, but it wasn’t a full-on smile. ‘Have you sold many?’
‘None,’ I blurted, and he laughed. ‘That’s not to say that they’re not good,’ I went on, protecting my work.
‘I’m sure they’re great. I’d like to see your work sometime.’
‘My aunt is an artist. She encouraged me to put my art in the shop. Hey, you could be my first real critic.’ Richard went to speak, but changed his mind. He stood and started scooping up his rubbish. I panicked. ‘I’m sorry, did I say something wrong?’
He shook his head. ‘No, it’s not you. It’s me.’
I wanted to see him again. ‘When?’
He gazed back at me, confused. ‘When, what?’
‘When would you like to see my work?’
His face twisted. ‘Ummm.’
‘You don’t have to. I thought that you were genuinely interested,’ I said, reaching for the lid, placing it on my lunch box, regretting that I had moved my focus away from Grant.
‘Saturday?’
‘Excuse me?’
‘I can meet you at the zoo after work on Saturday.’
I reached into my backpack, took out my phone and handed it to him. Doubt washed over his face. I pressed my lips together. Was I moving too fast? I couldn’t snatch it back. ‘You might like to put in your number. I’ll call if I’m held up, but my shift finishes at noon.’
I watched Richard’s face relax as he punched in his number. ‘Feel free to text me yours,’ he said, handing it back.’ I gave him my sexiest smile.
‘If you want to catch up sooner, you know where to find me.’ I tapped the bench, and he smiled.
Richard’s quirky smile helped me relax. He punched in his number. ‘Feel free to text me yours,’ he said handing it back. I gave him my sexiest smile.
‘Cool. Thanks, Steph. Do you want to walk back with me?’ he asked, and turned his gaze to a group of boys playing handball in the distance, and back to me.
‘No, it’s cool. I might just hang here a bit longer.’ I waited until Richard reached the quadrangle, and sent Libby a text.
A short, interesting lunch. He’s deep, but he’s also nice.
Libby’s reply was swift.
I knew you’d get attached. Just take it slow.
I strolled out of class to find Libby leaning against the brick wall outside my classroom, with the sole of her shoe planted on the wall. ‘God,’ she said, rolling her eyes.
‘What now?’
‘I can see it in your eyes, Steph – you’ve fallen for Richard.’
I started walking towards the locker. ‘You’re being ridiculous. Yes, I like him, but we’ve only just met. Plus, he’s going through some heavy, shitty stuff.’
‘Like what?’ she called, skipping behind me as I walked.
I stopped walking and faced her. ‘He changed schools because his brother died.’
Libby’s face went from smug to caring. ‘That’s terrible. Car accident?’
‘I didn’t ask.’
‘Aren’t you curious?’
‘Yeah, of course, I was, but I didn’t think that the timing was right.’
‘And the girl?’
‘What girl?’ I replied, knowing who she was referring to.
‘The girl who was with him at the hospital.’
‘Oh … that girl.’
‘You’re not curious.’
‘Yeah, I am, but –’
‘But what?’
I shrugged. ‘Maybe it was Richard’s sister.’
‘Maybe it wasn’t. You should ask before you get in any deeper.’
‘It’s not like we’re dating, although he is meeting me on Saturday at the zoo to view my work.’
‘You don’t waste time, do you?’
‘I told you I liked him, he’s different. If he asked me out, I wouldn’t say no.’
‘And Grant?’
‘Grant’s had since Year Seven to ask me out.’
Willow’s voice echoed up the corridor. ‘Hurry, or we’ll miss the bus.’
‘I’m not going straight home,’ I told her. ‘I’m stopping off at the zoo.’
Libby’s shoulders dropped. ‘I’m coming to your house, remember? You promised we’d study. I’ll never pass maths.’
‘Go and keep Mum company, I won’t be long.’
Libby held her pose and started walking.
‘Not attractive,’ I sang, and Libby kept on walking.
Dad was in the infirmary taking the baby chimp’s temperature. I went in search of Sally to congratulate her and found her clinging to her cage, showing her teeth. She was clearly agitated, wanting her baby back.
‘Cradle her head,’ said Dad, passing the baby to me. I held her in my hands and studied her little features.
‘Hi Lucy,’ I whispered.
‘Dad, she’s beautiful.’ Dad gazed over his glasses. ‘She’s ugly.’
Sally let out a gut-wrenching cry.
‘She heard you.’ I pouted.
‘How was school?’
‘Apart from art class, it was good. Dad, the night that Mum was in the ICU, do remember me mentioning a boy?’
‘No, I don’t,’ he said, sitting in front of the computer. ‘Was he sick?’
‘No, he was at the hospital because his brother, Michael, died that night.’
Dad looked up from the computer. ‘I’m sorry to hear that, Steph.’
I nodded. ‘Yeah, it sucks.’
‘How do you know what happened?’
‘Richard transferred to our school. I saw him on the bus this morning. We met up at lunch and … today …’
Sally’s squeal interrupted. ‘I’m finished, you can give the baby back,’ said Dad, reaching across to the cage, unlatching the door.
Sally reached beyond the door and snatched the baby from me. Cradling her in one arm, she knuckle-walked to the corner of the cage and sat huddled with her back to us.
‘How’s Mum?’
‘She had a good day. I went home for lunch. I thought that you were going to try to call her today.’
‘I meant to, but I met up with Richard and got landed with other stuff.’
‘It doesn’t take long to make a quick call.’
‘I know that!’
‘I’m going food shopping in half-an-hour if you want to come?’
‘I can’t. I’ve got homework, plus I promised to help Libby.’
Dad pointed. ‘What’s that on your hand?’
‘Yuck, chimp poop.’ I reached in my pocket for a tissue, and pulled out the matchbox with the dead pygmy possum. Dad gave me the worst stare. ‘I forgot to bury it,’ I said, opening the lid. It smelt. I freaked. What if Richard detected it? Please, God, no.
‘You better start thinking more now that your mother is sick. I also need you to help around the house.’
‘I help, a lot.’
‘A little extra wouldn’t hurt,’ he said, turning back to the computer. ‘Maybe start with washing your uniform.’
‘You’re amazing, Dad,’ I snapped, shaking my head. ‘I work at the zoo, go to school, paint – there’s only so many hours in the day.’
‘Don’t make it a big deal.’
‘And maybe you should start taking cooking lessons.’
Dad swivelled his chair to face me. His forehead creased. ‘There’s nothing wrong with my cooking.’
‘That’s because your taste buds are old,’ I said, and watched his confidence fade.
The soil in the backyard was soft. I placed the matchbox in the hole. I couldn’t begin to comprehend what it would be like to bury someone close to you, and then change schools. I admired Richard’s courage.
I
found Mum lying in a sun chair on the deck. I walked up and planted a kiss on her head. ‘What are you reading?’ I asked, glancing over her shoulder.
‘Aunt Cass dropped in some books,’ she said, handing it to me. I read the writing on the back out loud: ‘An unflinching account of my love affair with an older man.
‘Yuck, Mum, that’s gross.’ I frowned.
‘Is something wrong?’ she asked, reaching out for my hand. I chose not to tell her the lecture I had from Dad.
‘Finally,’ sighed Libby, holding a cup of tea in each hand.
‘Libby also mentioned that you had lunch with a boy.’ I glared at Libby and pursed my lips. ‘He sounds nice,’ said Mum. ‘Maybe we can meet him.’
‘Maybe Libby can set that up,’ I commented, handing back her book.
I heard the back door open. Dad was home. ‘I’ve got homework,’ I told Mum.
‘Off you go,’ she said.
Chapter Seven
‘WHO’S WAITING FOR you?’ teased Libby, as we approached Richard leaning against the fence beside the school gate.
‘Maybe he’s waiting for someone else,’ I told her.
‘Get real.’
Richard’s look willed me to stop.
‘Hi,’ I said, and Libby waited.
‘I thought maybe we could do lunch again, that is, if you want?’
Libby mumbled something under her breath.
‘Sounds good,’ I said, ignoring her. ‘Same time, same place?’
‘Yeah,’ he said, and walked with us to where the footpath forked. ‘I’m in D Block,’ he told me and strolled off in the opposite direction.
Libby stood with her arms crossed. ‘What’s wrong with you?’ I said, annoyed by her attitude. ‘One minute you want me to have a boyfriend, and when Richard could end up being one, you start acting weird.’
‘You always do things so full-on.’
My eyes widened. ‘And you don’t?’
‘Yes, I do, but I just don’t want you to be hurt. Have you heard of grief rebound?’
My nose crinkled. ‘What’s that?’
‘It’s like when people lose someone, they become emotionally dependent.’
I knew what Libby said made sense. ‘I’ll keep it in mind.’
Richard and I met for lunch the following two days, each day our time was a little less awkward. I liked that he was more into computers than sport, he was a thinker. I also liked how he shared snippets of his life, but there was still no mention of how Michael died, and no mention of the girl. I already had feelings for him. If there was another girl in his life, I’d be hurt.
