‘That’s really stupid,’ I agree.
He takes another sip of his rum and Coke. ‘Yeah? What’s the dumbest bet you’ve ever made?’
I think about that for a moment. Zero says, ‘Here, maybe this will help you remember,’ so I drink some more. Then whoa, it hits me, my head whirling like I’ve just come off a merry-go-round.
‘Um,’ I say, steadying myself against the side of the house. ‘When I was nine I drank a potion my brother made with practically everything he could find in the pantry in exchange for his pocket money.’
‘Funny.’ He nods at the bottle in my hand. ‘Are you enjoying that any better now?’
‘It’s fantastic,’ I say, except it comes out more like fantashtic. ‘Don’t know why I didn’t do this sooner.’
Zero grins. ‘That’s the spirit. Huh, get it? That’s the spirit.’
‘Ha,’ I say, and when I laugh it’s not even forced.
Zero pulls a phone out of his pocket. ‘How drunk do you think you are, dude?’
‘I’m not drunk,’ I say, uncertainly. Is that a lie? I wouldn’t know, because I’ve never been drunk before.
‘Do you know what cops do to work out if someone’s drunk?’
I frown at him. ‘They breathalyse them.’ Is Zero going to breathalyse me? Why?
‘How about walking the line, have you ever heard of that?’ Zero’s aiming the phone at me, as if he’s about to take my photo. I scratch my head, remembering the cop shows I’ve watched over the years.
‘Oh yeah, sure.’
‘So, can you do that?’
I squint at him. ‘There’s no line.’
Zero huffs through his nose and waves his hand at me.
‘Just put one foot in front of the other, heel to toe. Go on, I dare you.’
It sounds like a stupid dare to me, but I’m pretty sure I can do it. After setting the bottle down, I pick up my right foot and try to set it in front of my left toe — and lurch to one side.
‘No, definitely not drunk,’ Zero says, still holding up his phone. I try again, but my legs don’t feel as if they’re attached to my body, and I end up on my butt in the grass.
‘So,’ Zero says, standing over me with his phone, and now I’m pretty sure he’s recording me, ‘are you or are you not drunk, Felix Catalan?’
‘Yes, I am drunk,’ I yell back. Zero laughs and lowers his phone.
‘Awesome, Catalan,’ he says. ‘You have a great party, OK?’ Then he picks up his Coke bottle and leaves me there. I’m not entirely sure what just happened, but I’m busting for a piss. Inside, there are paper cups and empty beer bottles strewn all over the place. I wonder where Joel’s parents are. Mine would go apeshit if our home got trashed like this.
Now I come to think of it, my parents have trashed our home too, but in a completely different way.
I pee for what feels like a very long time. When I walk out of the loo, I look around for Coke and Bindi, but the only people I can see are Blonde Hair and Pillowy Lips. They look straight through me, as if I’m invisible. Suits me.
I walk back outside, nearly falling down the front steps. It’s dark, and my ears are ringing from all the noise inside. I do a circuit around the house and spot Coke playing touch rugby with a few other guys on the back lawn. He waves at me.
‘Yo, Catalan, over here.’
Shaking my head, I pivot, and walk straight into someone’s chest.
‘Sorry.’ I step back, nearly falling over. The guy takes my arm, steadying me.
‘Hey there,’ he says, his teeth flashing in the glow of the security light.
I suck in a breath. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Same as you, I guess,’ Bailey says. He’s wearing jeans and a t-shirt with a picture of a gecko riding a surfboard on it. ‘How was the rest of detention?’
‘Oh,’ I say, trying to think back. It seems like eons ago. ‘It got really boring after you left.’
Bailey smiles. ‘Yeah, for me too.’
I’m starting to wish I hadn’t drunk so much. The yard keeps tilting around me, like the world is moving but my body isn’t moving with it.
‘I think I need to sit down,’ I say, moving towards the back fence. Bailey follows and sits next to me, cradling his bottle of beer.
‘You seem different tonight,’ he says. What does he mean by that? Good different or bad different? And why do I care?
I nod at his beer bottle. ‘Do you mind if I have a sip?’
‘Sure,’ he says, handing it to me. The bottle is full, as if he hasn’t drunk out of it yet. I swallow and the beer settles uneasily in my stomach, like oil on water.
‘Huh,’ I say. ‘Maybe that wasn’t such a good idea.’ I lie back, fallen leaves crunching beneath me. Through gnarled tree branches I see stars, a fingernail moon.
‘I hate b-beer.’ Bailey’s voice sounds really close. When I turn my head, I see he’s lying beside me, his arms stretched above his head. I roll onto my side, watching him watch the sky. ‘Someone g—offered it to me, so I took it.’
‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘Me too.’
Bailey doesn’t say anything, just sighs a little.
‘I had a really bad day,’ I say. ‘Except for detention.’ I don’t know why I’m telling him that. Why should he care?
He turns to face me, propping himself up on his elbow. ‘Me too.’
I swallow. ‘What happened in your bad day?’
‘Oh,’ he says. ‘It had a lot to do with b-b-b-beer.’ Perhaps he would have told me more, but that’s when the oil-on-water feeling in my stomach starts to creep up the back of my throat.
‘Where are you going?’ Bailey calls after me as I leap to my feet and dive into the bushes, and then, ‘Oh.’
That’s when I decide I really hate beer too.
CHAPTER 6
BAILEY: AN INFINITUDE OF PRIMES
Felix is drunker than I thought. When he stumbles off to puke, I don’t know what to do. I’m not so good with vomiting. The sound and smell always makes me want to barf too. But I don’t want to leave him there, either. What if he passes out and chokes on his own vomit? I’d never forgive myself.
‘Are you OK?’ I ask, once I’m pretty sure he’s stopped.
Felix straightens up and runs a hand over his mouth. ‘Yeah, I just need some water.’
‘I’ll get it.’ I walk back towards the house. It’s pretty messy inside, with crushed paper cups and cans and bottles all over the place. I can’t find a cup that hasn’t been used, but there’s an empty water bottle on the windowsill, so I fill it from the tap and walk outside.
Felix isn’t where I left him. Swivelling my head, I catch sight of Beret Guy, AKA Dallas. He’s leaning against the side of the house, chatting to a guy with an afro.
‘Hey, mate,’ Dallas says. ‘Having a good time?’
‘Yeah,’ I say. At least I was, until a few minutes ago. ‘Hey, don’t suppose you’ve seen Catalan?’
‘You just missed him.’ Dallas gestures towards the street with his beer bottle. ‘Lurched off that way.’
‘Thanks.’ I hurry across the lawn and look up and down the street. Felix is heading downhill, tracing a wiggly line down the footpath. I jog to catch up to him.
‘Walking home by yourself?’
Felix turns. ‘Yeah, it’s not far.’
‘Want some company?’ After passing him the bottle, I dig around in my pocket and find a nearly empty packet of chewing gum. ‘Have this, too, if you want.’
‘Thanks.’ He sips on the water, pops the gum into his mouth. ‘You’ll miss out on the rest of the party.’
I shrug, and fall in beside him. ‘I wasn’t that into it anyway. Where do you live?’
‘Rimu Street,’ he says. I have no idea where that is, but I nod. ‘How about you?’
‘On the other side of the subway.’
Felix glances at me. ‘OK.’ I know what he’s thinking, and I’d rather he didn’t. I thrust my hands into my pockets and tilt my head back.
> ‘I can see Alpha Centauri.’
Felix looks up, too, and nearly falls in the gutter. I catch him by the elbow and steer him back into the middle of the pavement, noting how we’re nearly the same height.
‘That’s actually three stars,’ he says, leaning into me. ‘Did you know that?’
I shake my head, trying to act casual even though my body’s turned into a solar flare. Can he tell? I guess he’s too drunk to notice.
‘It’s a triple star system,’ he says, slurring slightly. ‘Alpha Centauri A, Alpha Centauri B and Proxima Centauri.’
‘A triple star system,’ I repeat. ‘I like the names of the constellations. Like Andromeda, and Ursa Major.’
I like you, Felix Catalan, but I have no idea how you feel about me.
‘And Pegasus,’ he says. ‘That’s got its own planet, did you know that?’
A bus lumbers past. We’ve nearly reached the bottom of the hill. How did we get here so fast? I’m hoping Felix’s house isn’t too close. I want this eerie conversation to last forever.
‘Next to you,’ I say, ‘I don’t think I know anything.’ We wait to cross at the motorway lights, cars whipping past us. A cool breeze stirs over my flaming cheeks. Beneath the glow of the streetlight, I can see Felix peering beneath his lids at me, as if he’s not sure how to reply to that.
‘It’s called Dimidium,’ he says. ‘The planet, I mean. In case you were wondering.’
‘I was wondering,’ I say, ‘if you have any siblings.’ Maybe it sounds weird to say siblings, but I don’t want to stutter over brothers or sisters. If I had my way, I’d expunge all words starting with ‘b’ from the dictionary, starting with my name.
‘I’ve got a brother, Alfie,’ he says. ‘He’s fourteen. How about you?’
I hold up four fingers, and he frowns.
‘Four brothers?’
‘Two,’ I say. ‘And two sisters.’
‘How old?’ The green man is flashing. We cross the road.
‘Five, seven, eleven and thirteen.’
‘Five, seven, eleven, thirteen,’ he repeats, and I hear a lift in his voice. ‘Did you know those are all prime numbers?’
Smiling, I say, ‘I never really thought about it.’
‘Prime numbers are infinite,’ he says. ‘Mathematicians call it an infinitude of primes.’
‘Like the universe?’ We’re on the bridge, our footsteps very loud now that we’ve left the noise of the motorway behind us.
‘Well,’ he says, ‘no one really knows if the universe is infinite, do they?’ He halts and leans over the railing. ‘The universe might be infinite, but we can only see a finite portion of it, because the speed of light is finite. So we can only see the parts where light has had time to reach us since the start of the universe.’
‘I have an infinitude of siblings,’ I say. He laughs, and I laugh, too, my hand on his arm.
‘You’re not like other g—you know,’ I say. Inky water slips beneath the bridge. Hot blood surges through my heart.
‘I know,’ he says, his voice low. He steps back and I move with him, my hand still on his arm.
‘I like that you aren’t,’ I say. Don’t screw this up, Hunter, just don’t.
‘My parents broke up last night,’ Felix says suddenly, randomly.
‘Oh.’ I drop my hand. ‘That sucks.’ Is that his way of telling me to back off? I guess it is.
‘Yeah. It does.’ He turns and props up his arms on the railing again. I lean beside him, the breeze fingering my hair.
‘So that’s why you had a crap day?’
‘Mostly. How about you?’
There are so many ways I could answer that. I don’t want to lie to him, but I don’t want to tell him the truth either.
‘I had an argument with my old man this morning,’ I say. ‘That’s all.’
Felix rests his forehead on the railing, and sighs. ‘I don’t want to be drunk anymore.’
‘Wish my old man would say that,’ I mumble, and straighten up. ‘How far is your house from here?’
We don’t talk much between the bridge and Felix’s house. After walking for fifteen minutes or so, Felix halts outside a split-level house with a large front lawn.
‘Well,’ he says, ‘here we are.’
I tip my head to one side, listening to the trickle of water, which sounds very close. ‘Is that a creek?’
‘Yeah.’ Felix rummages through his pockets, and grunts. ‘Ah, crap.’
‘What?’
‘I’ve left my key in my backpack. At Coke’s house.’ He starts walking down the driveway, weaving slightly, and I follow him.
‘Is the house locked?’ I ask.
‘Probably.’ We check, but the front door doesn’t budge, nor the back.
Felix sighs. ‘Great. Mum’ll kill me if I wake her up.’
I walk down the back steps, trailing my fingers over the weatherboards.
‘Is there a window open somewhere?’
‘Maybe the bathroom.’ Felix leads me around the side of the house. The bathroom window is closed, but the toilet window is open a crack.
‘Easy,’ I say. ‘Here, give me a boost.’ I scale the drainpipe, reach across to unhook the window sash, and clamber through head-first. After some awkward manoeuvring of my arms and legs, which suddenly seem far too long, I end up on my butt in the basin. I slide onto the tiles and stand still for a moment, listening. Did I make much noise? Man, if Felix’s mum or brother walk in on me now, they’ll probably crap themselves, or call the police.
But the house remains silent, apart from the distant hum of a fridge. I turn and poke my head through the window.
‘Shall I let you in?’
‘Front door’s to your left,’ Felix says, and disappears. I walk down the darkened hallway, which is at least twice as wide and three times as long as our hallway, and wonder what his parents do for a living. Something that pays more than painting and the supermarket, I’m guessing.
I open the front door as quietly as possible and step aside to let Felix in.
‘Thanks,’ he whispers. ‘For walking me home and everything.’
‘Any time,’ I whisper back, and neither of us moves. I lean towards him, bringing my mouth to his ear.
‘It was really interesting. An infinitude of p-primes, that’s really cool.’
‘Almost as cool as an infinitude of siblings,’ he says haltingly. I’m worried I’m freaking him out, but he turns his head ever so slightly, until my lips touch his earlobe. He smells of cologne, a fricking sexy woody-spicy scent. Who would have thought? I can’t get a handle on this guy.
Kiss him.
I can’t. He’s way drunk.
‘You know what? I think I need to go to sleep,’ Felix says, moving away from me. I sigh and step back.
‘Drink lots of water.’
‘Huh?’
‘Best cure for hangovers,’ I say. ‘According to my dad.’
‘Oh,’ he says. ‘Thanks.’
‘Any time.’ I brush my fingers past his, and hear his quick breath in.
Once I’ve reached the end of the driveway, I stop and lean against the fence. And for the next couple of minutes, that’s where I stay, imprinting Felix Catalan on my brain — the water-soft sound of his breathing, the feel of his skin against my lips.
On Saturday afternoon, I cycle to the Judo Academy. Ethan’s already there when I arrive, talking to a grey-haired guy with a black belt knotted around his judogi.
‘Hey, Hunter.’ Ethan waves me over. ‘Rick, this is the dude I was telling you about — Bailey.’
‘Bailey Hunter.’ Grinning, Rick claps me on the back. ‘Didn’t know you were moving into this neck of the woods.’
I smile back, a thrill of recognition zapping through me. ‘It was kind of sudden.’
Ethan’s eyes ping between us. ‘Wait — you guys know each other?’
Rick raises an eyebrow at me. ‘Hunter used to clean up gold medals at the national champs when he was a jun
ior. Didn’t see you last year though — what happened?’
I shrug. ‘Sprained ankle.’ It’s a lie, of course, but it sounds better than my parents couldn’t afford the entry fee.
‘Maybe this year, eh? Ethan will show you where to get changed.’ Rick walks into the office, still smiling. I can’t stop grinning either. Rick Golding won a gold medal at the Olympic Games a few years back, and now he’s going to be teaching me. Awesome.
‘You kept that quiet,’ Ethan says once we’re in the musty-smelling change rooms.
‘Ah, I was just a junior.’ I loop my belt around my jacket and push my sneakers under the bench. ‘Competition’s tougher once you’re a senior.’
‘I guess so.’ Ethan tightens the drawstring on his trousers. ‘What happened to you last night? I tried to look for you around ten-thirty, but you’d left already.’
‘Thought I should walk Catalan home, make sure he got across the motorway.’ I follow him out of the change room. ‘He was kind of wasted.’
Ethan laughs. ‘Oh yeah, did you see the video Zero posted on Facebook?’
I frown, automatically bowing as I step onto the mat. ‘What video?’
Before Ethan can answer, there’s a shrill whistle, and we’re lining up in belt order. Once the warm-up is over, Rick beckons me over and taps a blonde girl on the shoulder, who I recognise as the blue belt from school.
‘Bailey, Sasha, Sasha, Bailey,’ he says, and claps his hands. ‘Right, everybody, let’s start with some free play, building on what we learned last week.’
Sasha smiles and reaches for my jacket, and I follow suit. We start moving around the mat, trying to catch each other off-guard.
‘Where you from?’ Sasha asks.
‘Auckland.’ I try to catch her behind the ankle with my foot, but she sidesteps, and nearly sends me flying onto my back by hooking her leg behind mine. ‘Ooh, you’re tricky,’ I tease. My adrenaline’s pumping after the warm-up, and I’m feeling cheeky.
Sasha’s eyes wrinkle at the corners. ‘So they say.’
‘You must do all right at competitions,’ I say, just before I scoop her off her feet using my favourite throw, Uchi Mata.
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