‘That’s a black-sand beach, is that right?’ Mrs C adds flour to the pot, then milk, stirring the whole time.
‘Yeah.’ I lift the grater, and push the cheese into a mound. Cheese is like gold in our house. I can’t remember the last time we could afford to grate a third of a block into a meal. ‘It’s good for surfing.’
‘Do you miss it?’
‘Heaps.’ I put my hand on Felix’s thigh, but take it off again when Alfie walks into the kitchen. ‘I’ll head b-back when I start uni.’
Felix frowns at me. ‘You’re going to Auckland Uni?’
I frown back. ‘Well, yeah.’
‘To do what?’ Alfie asks, reaching for the cheese. Felix’s mum turns and slaps his hand away, and he yelps.
‘Law,’ I say.
‘You can do law here,’ Felix says, scowling at the pasta tubes.
‘It’s two years away.’ I pull my phone out of my pocket to see if Mum got my message. No answer yet. I figure she’ll just be happy to have one less kid to feed.
‘Can you show me some judo moves now?’ Alfie says.
‘Sure.’ Glad of an excuse to stop talking about uni, I set the phone down and follow him into the lounge. ‘How about we start with a hold?’
Alfie holds his arms up like a boxer and bounces on his heels. ‘Cool, what do I do?’ He reminds me of an older version of Jack, only more goofy. I smile.
‘You need to lie on your b-back.’ Once he’s done that, I sit next to him and slide my arm beneath his neck. ‘The right arm goes here, and I’m going to tuck your left arm beneath my armpit — like this. See if you can get out.’
Alfie starts wriggling. I squeeze harder and bend my head forward.
‘Do you give in?’ I tease.
‘No-oo,’ he yelps, peddling around in circles with his feet. Felix walks in and watches us for a minute before plucking a comic off the coffee table and sitting on the couch.
‘You might as well give in now,’ Felix says. ‘Before he chokes you.’
Alfie’s eyes widen. ‘You’re going to choke me?’
‘Nah, he’s just messing with you.’ I release Alfie and sit back on my heels. ‘Your go now.’ We switch places, and I let Alfie pin me down for a minute or so before arching my back and flipping him over.
‘No wonder you’re a brown belt,’ Alfie says, rubbing his arms.
‘It’s not that hard, once you get the hang of it.’ I sit next to Felix on the couch, leaving at least half a metre of air between us. If he were a girl, I could sit close and hold his hand, like I used to with Olivia. Instead, I have to sneak around every time I want to touch him. Part of me likes the secrecy, but another part of me wishes I could show him off to the world. How come straight people have it so easy? Life is so unfair.
‘How about that game?’ Alfie asks, switching on the Xbox.
After a few rounds of Grand Theft Auto V and dinner, Felix and I retreat to his room so I can help him with the physics he missed the day before. At least, that’s what I say I’m going to do. Truth is, I’m going crazy with not being able to touch him. As soon as we’re alone, I push him up against the closed bedroom door, my lips on his.
I love kissing Felix. I love the soft moans he makes when I kiss his chest, his belly, and below. I’m glad we’re up against the door, because he’s still groaning, his hands in my hair, when his mum knocks.
‘Do you two want a hot drink?’
‘No,’ Felix calls back, zipping up his shorts. ‘Thanks.’
‘My pleasure,’ I murmur, catching his eye and grinning. Smiling back, he flops on the bed, his hands behind his head.
‘Put some music on,’ he says. ‘If you want.’
‘Sure,’ I say, but first I lie beside him on the bed, my head snuggled into his shoulder. I know we can’t do this for too long — someone could burst in any second — but I just want a few more minutes alone with him. Felix rolls towards me and kisses me on the forehead.
‘You breathe invisibly,’ he says.
‘Huh?’
‘It’s an anagram,’ he says. ‘But you have to take out the “visib” part to make it work.’
I shake my head. ‘I still don’t get it.’
Felix sits up and reaches for a pen and paper, then rests the paper on his knee as he writes a series of letters in his computer-like writing.
‘The “visib” is invisible,’ he says, passing the paper to me. ‘But the rest of the letters make a word; two words actually.’ He raises an eyebrow at me. ‘You should be able to figure that out, Mr Lawyer.’
I frown at the letters, u-b-r-e-a-t-h-e-i-n-l-y. ‘Are you being sarcastic?’
‘No.’ He turns the alarm clock to face me. It’s eight thirteen already. ‘Did you see the message?’
‘What message?’
‘You had a text. Sorry, I forgot to tell you. Your mum said to be home by eight.’
‘Shit.’ I spring off the bed and pluck my shirt off the floor. ‘You should have — shit.’
Felix’s face falls. ‘It’s only thirteen minutes past,’ he says, standing up.
‘You don’t know my dad.’ I pull the shirt over my head. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, OK?’ I fling the door open and walk past the lounge, calling out, ‘Thanks for dinner, Mrs C.’
‘Any time,’ she calls back.
‘Careful or I might end up here every night,’ I say, trying to keep my voice light. I squeeze Felix’s shoulder. ‘Sleep well, Five.’
‘I’ll try,’ he says, and I step out into the gloom. When I reach the end of the driveway, I start running.
There are no stars tonight, just the urine-yellow glow of the streetlights casting blurry haloes on the shiny-wet pavement. When I arrive home, Maddy’s sitting on the back doorstep, sparks springing from her fingers. Moving closer, I see that she’s rolling the wheel of a lighter beneath her thumb.
‘Where’d you get that?’ I kick my shoes off. Maddy slips the lighter into the pocket of her hoodie.
‘Nowhere. Where were you?’ She’s wearing her hair down, glossy brown beneath the porch light.
‘At a friend’s.’ I walk past her and into the kitchen. Dad and Jack are sitting at the table, playing cards. I pull out a chair and sit next to Jack.
‘What are you playing?’
‘Last Card,’ Jack says. ‘We’ve been waiting for you so we can play Five Hundred.’
‘Cool,’ I say, relaxing a little. Perhaps Dad isn’t on the war-path after all. I peer into the lounge, but Mum’s nowhere to be seen. Maybe she’s in bed already. ‘You go with Dad, I’ll partner Maddy.’
Jack leaps up. ‘I’ll get Maddy.’
Dad shuffles the cards and splits the deck, then fans them into each other.
‘Where were you tonight?’
‘At Felix’s.’ There’s a glass containing clear liquid at his elbow — water? Vodka? I don’t really want to know.
Dad arches an eyebrow at me. ‘The spiky-haired kid that was here the other day?’
‘Uh-huh.’ I can’t work out if Dad’s trying to bait me, or if he’s genuinely interested. Maddy flounces in and sits opposite me, blowing her fringe out of her eyes.
‘What’s the winner get?’ Maddy asks.
‘A Magnum,’ Jack says. He’s crazy for those chocolate-covered ice creams.
‘A Magnum, sure.’ Dad hands me the cards. ‘You deal.’
I give them another shuffle, enjoying the familiar weight of the cards in my hand, the preparation for this family ritual. Five Hundred is one of our favourite games, and now Jack’s old enough to play, we don’t have to beg Mum to be the fourth player.
The game starts off amicably enough. Jack and Dad win the first hand, Maddy and I the next three.
‘Table talk,’ Jack complains, when he catches Maddy tugging on her ear.
‘I’m not talking,’ she says, giving him an irritating smile, but I know she’s flush with diamonds when she does the ear thing. She’s a hopeless cheat. ‘We’ve as good as won anyway. And, oh look
, it’s your bedtime.’
‘Ten p.m.,’ Dad says. ‘Time for both of you to be off to bed. Put the kettle on, will you, Bailey?’
Jack’s eyebrows draw together. ‘You can’t say you won until you get to five hundred.’
‘We won, we won, we won,’ Maddy chants, shrieking when he chases her into the hallway.
‘Keep your voices down,’ Dad yells after them. I take a mug out of the cupboard above the sink.
‘Tea?’
‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘Make one for yourself, if you want. Unless you want one of these.’ He holds up his glass, which he’s been refilling from the bottle beneath the table. I shake my head.
‘I’m tired. I might just turn in.’
Dad pats the tabletop. ‘I think you should make yourself a cuppa too,’ he says, in a tone I know not to argue with. Once I’m sitting back down, two cups of tea between us, he says, ‘So, where were you on Sunday night?’
‘Ethan’s,’ I say, after the barest hesitation.
Dad sips on his tea. ‘Funny. That’s not where your mum said you were.’
‘Well,’ I say, my heart starting to beat an all-too-familiar rhythm, crap-crap-crap, ‘that’s where I was.’ Hang on, what did I text to Mum before I went up the hill? Maybe I’d said I was going to Henry’s instead.
Shit.
‘I don’t know why you bother lying to me,’ my father says. ‘You know I always find out, sooner or later.’
‘I might have g-got confused,’ I say, pressing my hand over the river-rock around my neck. ‘I was at Ethan’s. You can ask him if you want.’
You can keep it, B. For good luck.
Thanks, F. I think I’m going to need it.
My father leans back in his chair.
‘You know, I don’t think I can trust you out in that caravan anymore,’ he says, oh-so-casually, and a vacuum opens up inside me. No — a vortex, sucking me in.
No, no, you can’t take the caravan away. I’ll go insane.
‘I went up the hill,’ I blurt, deciding that coming clean is the best strategy. ‘That’s all. I was just hanging out, b-b-by myself.’ Did he see me? Did someone else see me and tell Dad? But who?
Dad narrows his eyes at me. ‘What were you doing up there? Smoking weed?’
‘No. I was just having some quiet time.’
‘Well, while you were having your quiet time, buddy, your mum and I were slaving down here, cooking and cleaning and doing everything else that helps keep this household going. I’m getting the feeling you don’t want to be part of this family anymore.’
‘That’s not true,’ I say. Steam rises off my tea and forms a halo on the darkened window beside me.
‘I’m getting the feeling,’ he carries on, ‘that you think you’re too good for us. Is that why you haven’t been coming home?’
Digging my fingers into my thighs, I shake my head. Dad drains his tea and stands up.
‘I sold the caravan,’ he says, before picking up the glass of death and walking outside. Red rage rushes through me, so fast I feel like I’m going to vomit. I run after him, words twisting and turning as they tumble out of my mouth.
‘No. No, you can’t sell it. That’s not f-f-fair.’ It’s raining again, water pouring out of the broken spouting at the side of the house.
‘Guess you should have thought of that before you lied.’ Dad leans against the porch post, swirling the liquid in his glass.
He set you a trap, and you walked straight in.
I hate him, I hate him.
‘That’s just an excuse.’ My voice rises. ‘You’ve b-been meaning to sell it all along, b-b-because you’ve spent all our money on p-piss and drink-driving charges and—’
I’m moving in slow motion again. The pain is almost welcome, a distraction from the dreadful realisation that there is no infinitude, no dreams, just the solid thunk of my head hitting the wall behind me.
I’m falling, falling, a bird without wings.
I never learn. I never do.
CHAPTER 15
FELIX: A FINITE SINGULARITY
I don’t sleep well after Bailey leaves on Tuesday night. Maybe I would have if I hadn’t picked up my phone. I’m not sure why I even checked it. As far as I’m concerned, Ruby’s work is done. But I can’t resist looking one more time before I go to sleep.
Someone has posted on Ruby’s wall. Not just someone — Joe ‘Zero’ McCarthy. He hasn’t just posted on her wall, he’s sprayed all over it, like a vindictive tomcat.
Guess it’s nothing compared to what you might have picked up off your friend Felix Catalan. Oh … wait … he doesn’t like girls, does he? But I hear he’s really INTO boys, or they’re INTO him … if you know what I mean.
I don’t want to read the comments below Zero’s post, but I can’t help it.
Sam: Backs to the walls, boys!
Molly: OMG has he got a boyfriend?
Zero: I’ll give you three guesses, sunshine.
Molly: Are his initials BH?
Zero: Spoilsport.
Henry: Rear entry only.
Sam: Ride him cowboy!
There are lots of emoticons, too, laughing faces and faces with open mouths mostly. I feel as though I’m flat on my back again, trying to suck air into my collapsed lungs. How many people have seen this? How does Zero know about us anyway? Bailey and I have been so careful … haven’t we?
Then I remember Alex coming across Bailey and me by the front door, when Bailey’s lips were on my cheek. I remember Alex elbowing Alfie, and the smirk on Alfie’s face.
My hands shaking, I message Bailey: I need to talk to you right now. Ten minutes pass, then twenty, and he doesn’t message me back. Frantic thoughts start whizzing around my head like dodgems.
Maybe he’s asleep already. Maybe he’s freaked out and doesn’t want to talk to me. Maybe he wants to dump me, because it’s all too much for him.
Please don’t abandon me now. You promised me infinity.
Closing my eyes, I start reciting prime numbers, but I can’t escape from the hateful words burrowing into my brain.
There’s no such thing as infinity. I’m just a finite singularity, collapsing under the weight of the enormous force of Zero.
The next morning I try to count one thousand steps to the school gates, but I must have been walking too slowly, because I’m totally off and only reach nine hundred and eighty seven. Which is not only not one thousand, but also not a prime number.
I’m doomed.
The feeling intensifies as I walk towards chemistry. Heads turn and whispers swirl around me. I’m slinking into the classroom, head down, when someone brushes past me, hissing, ‘Watch it, Fairy Boy.’
It’s Molly, one of her blonde minions smirking behind.
‘Screw you,’ I say.
Molly raises her eyebrows. ‘Bet that’s what you tell all the boys.’
As usual, I can’t think of a comeback. Anything I say will just be used against me anyway. I clamp my lips shut, the pressure building up inside my chest until I feel like I’m going to explode.
‘What’s the matter?’ Molly asks. ‘Cat got your tongue?’
The minion sniggers. ‘Maybe we should ask Hunter where Freak-out’s been putting his tongue. Hope Hunter got himself sprayed afterwards.’
‘Did you say sprayed or spayed?’ Molly asks, and they giggle all the way to their seats at the back of the room. I can’t hang around to listen to them. I scoot out of the classroom and down the hallway, heading for the toilets.
Bailey intercepts me just as I’m about to open the door.
‘Hey.’ He’s breathing hard, as if he’s been running.
‘Hey,’ I mumble. The second bell is ringing.
‘Are you OK?’
‘I’m going to the loo.’ I gesture towards the toilet door, which has just swung open. Joel drifts out and gives me a wave.
‘I wouldn’t go in there if I were you,’ he calls over his shoulder. ‘Smells like someone died in there, like, a year
ago.’
‘Well,’ Bailey says, his eyes still on me, ‘I should let you g-go.’
I take in a deep, lacerating breath.
‘Did you get my text?’ My voice feels as if it doesn’t belong to me, like it’s about to shatter. After glancing over his shoulder, Bailey curls his hand into my elbow, steering me away from the toilets and out into the grey air.
‘What’s wrong?’ he asks, once we’re well away from the main block, the bike sheds to our left. It’s quiet out here — no whispers, no looks, just the wind weaving through the trees.
That’s when I look at him, really look at him. He’s sniffing, rubbing his hand under his nose.
‘You’re bleeding,’ I say. The top corner of his lip is swollen too — not a lot, but enough for me to notice.
‘Shit.’ He wipes his hand on the back of his shorts. ‘Blood nose. I have them all the—’
‘No.’ I grab his arm. ‘Did your old man hit you?’ I already know the answer, I think, but I need to hear Bailey say it. I need him to not lie to me about it, like he has twice already.
He looks back at me, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.
‘I only just got your message this morning. You said you needed to talk to me — what’s wrong?’
‘Why can’t you just answer me first?’ I yell.
He glares at me. ‘Why are you yelling at me? I d-d-d—shit!’ He kicks at the bottom of the bike rack, sending a bike tumbling onto its side. Maybe it’s mean of me, yelling at him when he’s still trying to get out the last word, but my fury is a tornado spiralling out of control.
Shaking, I shout, ‘Why can’t you trust me with the truth?’
‘B-b-because no one wants to hear it,’ Bailey roars back. I step away, my brain whirring.
When a hurricane meets a tornado, what happens?
When an irresistible force meets an immovable object, what happens?
‘I’m not no one,’ I say, watching him clench his fists at his sides, seeing a fresh droplet of blood bubble beneath his nose. Bailey just shakes his head at me, so I turn and walk swiftly through the school grounds, out of the front gates and towards the river.
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