The Toilet Kid

by Pat Flynn

  And now it’s in the palm of Kayla’s hand. She’s standing beside me in her room. We’ve snuck away from the party as I don’t want her opening my present in front of the others. It’s too embarrassing.

  My heart’s beating so loud I’m sure Kayla can hear it. It sounds like a death-metal band is playing in my chest. Ba boom. Ba boom. Ba boom, boom, boom. I really hope she likes my gift, but she probably won’t. How would I know what a girl likes?

  After undoing the neat wrapping paper (thanks to Mum), Kayla opens the small box and stares inside for a few seconds.

  ‘You can take it back if you want,’ I say. ‘I still have the receipt.’

  ‘I love it,’ she whispers.

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Really.’

  She takes the silver necklace out and holds the small heart pendant between the tips of her fingers. Then she slips the two ends of the chain up to her neck and turns her back to me.

  ‘Would you?’

  My hands shake as I try to do up the little clip. I wish my fingers weren’t so chubby. Just as I’m about to give up, the two ends clasp together like magic.

  Kayla walks to the mirror and stands there for a long time. ‘I just can’t stop looking at it.’

  ‘What about the party?’

  ‘I forgot there was a party going on.’ She gives me a smile. ‘I suppose we better get back. But first I have to thank you properly.’

  She comes over and slides her arms around my tummy, her cheek pressed into my shoulder.

  I tilt my head and rest my cheek on her hair. It’s thick and vanilla clean and I feel like staying here all day.

  But I don’t get a chance, because she leans back and slips her lips onto mine. I’m shocked, but go with it. It doesn’t really seem like the time to argue. It is Kayla’s birthday, after all.

  Her lips stay on mine for a few seconds, soft and still, until her mouth opens and closes a tiny bit and mine starts doing the same, like it’s got a mind of its own. We make little smooching sounds.

  Hang on. We’re smooching! Which means I’m tasting girl for the second time in my life. The first time was last year in the tuckshop line and I was so surprised I couldn’t really enjoy it. But now I can. It’s wet and sweet and my heart must be really pumping because I can hear a click-clacking.

  ‘What in God’s name is going on in here!’

  Kayla jerks away.

  Oh, no! It wasn’t my heart, it was the door. We’ve been busted!

  ‘Answer me, Kayla!’ It’s Kayla’s mum and for some reason she doesn’t seem too happy that I’ve just got my first real pash thanks to her daughter.

  ‘It’s okay, Mum. Matt gave me a cool birthday present. Look.’

  ‘No, young lady. You look at me.’ Mrs Berry puts her hands on her hips. ‘Everybody is asking for you and I find you in your room with the door closed, doing God knows what with this … big boy!’

  She points at me. I look at the floor.

  Hang on. She just called me a big boy. It might be true but I don’t like it very much.

  Neither does Kayla. ‘Mum! You’re embarrassing me!’

  ‘Well, you’ve embarrassed me! I expect better of you, young lady. Much better. Now go and join your guests. We’ll talk about this later. I want to talk to Matthew for a second. In private.’

  Kayla slowly walks out the door, throwing me a ‘sorry’ look over her shoulder.

  Her mum glides towards me. She speaks softly but carries a big knife. Hopefully it’s to cut cake. ‘I want you to ring your mother and tell her to come and get you, immediately.’ She speaks like the Queen, emphasising each syllable. ‘You’re not welcome in my house any longer.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘Now. While I’m watching.’

  I take out my phone. This is unbelievable.

  Mum’s out shopping so I have to ring her mobile. Normally I’d know the number off-by-heart but the stress has affected my brain. I start searching through the address book.

  ‘What’s wrong here, Margaret? I just saw Kayla and she’s very upset.’ Kayla’s dad has come in. I’ve always liked him a lot more than her mum. He’s friendly and funny and fat like me.

  ‘This boy had his hands all over your daughter, that’s what’s wrong!’

  Uh, oh. I might be about to see his dark side. He’s bigger than a pro wrestler; I hope he doesn’t body-slam me.

  I get ready to bolt.

  He gives me a look. ‘Tell me what happened, Matthew.’

  The muscles in my legs twitch. I close up my phone and take a breath.

  ‘Well, I wanted to give Kayla her present in private. It’s a necklace with a love heart and … well, she liked it. She gave me a hug and then it turned into a kiss and …’

  ‘And what,’ says her mum.

  ‘That’s it.’ I look at her dad. ‘I really like your daughter, Mr Berry. I don’t want to hurt her. And I don’t want to leave the party.’

  ‘Why would you have to leave the party?’

  I glance at Kayla’s mum.

  ‘Margaret? Why would Matthew have to leave the party?’ he asks.

  Her hands are back on her hips. ‘Why do you think, Trevor? I don’t think a boy who’s been groping our daughter deserves to stay in our house. Do you?’

  ‘I’m sure there was no groping going on. Was there, Matthew?’

  ‘No, sir. No groping at all. Just kissing.’

  He shrugs his shoulders. ‘It was a kiss, Margaret. Hardly a crime. We used to do it all the time. Remember?’

  ‘No, I don’t. And I don’t understand how you can be so laissez-faire about this whole situation. They were practically entwined.’

  I wish I knew what laissez-faire meant. And entwined, for that matter. I know a lot about numbers and food but not so much about words.

  ‘Margaret. Let’s go out and cut the cake. We have better things to do than argue about a kiss.’

  I feel like I’m intruding on their fight. But I still don’t know if I’ve been expelled or not. I stay where I am.

  ‘I’m not surprised you’re taking his side over mine.’ Mrs Berry speaks to her husband but points at me. ‘You two are much the same.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ says Mr Berry.

  Yeah. What’s that supposed to mean? Even though I like the bloke he looks a lot more unhealthy than me. I bet he couldn’t come second last in the cross-country race.

  ‘We’ll talk about it later.’ She turns and walks out.

  ‘I’m sure we will.’ Kayla’s dad turns to me. ‘I apologise for my wife, Matthew. She sees things very black and white at times. But she just wants the best for Kayla, that’s all.’

  I nod. So do I.

  ‘Please don’t feel bad—’ He stops talking and winces, hunching forward so his hands are resting on his knees.

  ‘Are you okay?’ I ask.

  ‘Yes. Just out of breath. Go and join the others,’ he says. ‘And try to enjoy yourself.’

  I’ll try. But it won’t be easy.

  When I get outside the party is in full swing, but I can’t find Kayla anywhere. I’m still shaken up so I skol a glass of punch. Instead of making me feel better it makes me want to go to the toilet.

  Someone’s in there. While I wait, Tash slithers up to me. ‘What did you do to Kayla?’ she hisses. ‘You’ve upset her at her own party.’

  I don’t need this right now. ‘I didn’t do anything.’

  ‘Yes, you did.’

  ‘No, I didn’t.’

  ‘Then what happened?’

  There’s no way I’m going to share the kissing incident with Tash. ‘Well, she probably just … looked at your face. That would upset anyone.’ Even though it’s a good comeback line I wish I hadn’t said it.

  Tash leans in close. She smells like corn chips. ‘Everyone knows that the only reason Kayla lets you be her friend is because she feels sorry for you. Why don’t you do her a favour and leave her alone?’

  My eyebrows sink and I squint
into her eyes. ‘Why don’t you do me a favour and leave. Permanently.’

  Our slanging match is interrupted by a flush and a door opening. Kayla comes out – her eyes puffed and her necklace hidden under her shirt. Tash grabs her by the shoulders.

  ‘Are you okay, hon?’

  I’d like to stay and chat but I’m busting. When I come out of the toilet the girls are nowhere in sight and although my body feels better, my feelings don’t. As much as I don’t want to believe it, what Tash said might be true. I don’t think I’m good enough for Kayla.

  She’s skinny. I’m fat. She’s pretty. I’m ugly. She’s good at running, making friends, lots of things. I’m good at tuckshop.

  I take a detour to get some fresh air and notice a plate of food sitting on a deserted table. Before I can talk myself out of it, I gulp down eight mini sausage rolls – with sauce, of course. They’re cold but I don’t care. The familiar taste of fried food makes me feel better.

  But when I turn around I feel worse. Eric, the craziest kid in school, is watching me. I didn’t even think he was invited to the party – knowing Eric he probably crashed it.

  For a psycho he’s actually not a bad bloke, but that’s not what I’m thinking as he saunters towards me. I’m remembering how last year I made him promise that if he ever saw me eat junk food he would …

  Whack!

  ‘Oww!’ I bend forward, clutching my stomach.

  ‘You’re lucky,’ he says. ‘I didn’t punch you hard because I don’t want you barfing at your girlfriend’s party. But next time you better watch out.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I mutter.

  He puts a hand on my shoulder. ‘No more junk, punk.’

  That won’t be hard. For some reason I don’t feel hungry anymore.

  Soon it’s the cutting of the cake and Kayla’s dad gets up to say a few words. He welcomes all her family and friends and then starts talking about his only daughter. ‘I can’t believe my little girl is a teenager. It seems like it was only yesterday when she’d fall asleep in my arms.’

  ‘Now she falls asleep in class,’ yells Eric.

  Kids giggle.

  ‘She’s all grown-up,’ Mr Berry continues. ‘Well, not all grown-up, but getting there. And I just want to say that – Kayla – Mum and I are very proud of the woman you are becoming. Not only are you beautiful on the outside, but you’re beautiful on the in—’

  He doesn’t finish the sentence, but hunches over like he did in the bedroom. Quickly he puts his hand up, to let us know he’s okay. He slowly stands back up straight and goes to say something else, but words don’t seem to want to come out of his mouth.

  ‘No crying allowed,’ says Eric.

  People laugh.

  I don’t.

  And neither does Mr Berry. He falls to one knee and a murmur goes through the group, some wondering if this is part of the speech.

  ‘Dad? Are you okay?’ Kayla puts an arm around his shoulder and he nods.

  But for some reason, I know he’s not. Even before he slumps to the floor, his eyes rolled back in his head.

  Chapter Four

  I want to visit Mr Berry in hospital but Kayla says he’s not well enough for visitors – other than his family – even though he’s been in there for over a week.

  Apparently the heart attack was huge and it was only because the ambulance arrived so quickly that he survived. It came screaming onto the lawn and a paramedic named Jeff had Mr Berry in a stretcher and out of there in a jeffy. Eric said it was the most exciting party he’d ever been to.

  Once in hospital Mr Berry needed emergency surgery because no blood was getting to his heart. I think it’s called a bypass, which is a strange name for an operation. It sounds more like a road.

  Kayla’s been away from school all week and I’ve only spoken to her once. It was a pretty short phone call. Everybody keeps asking me what’s going on, but I don’t know much more than the next bloke.

  And it seems I know even less than the next girl. ‘Kayla’s coming back to school today,’ Tash tells me with a half smirk. ‘Try not to upset her.’

  I’m so surprised that I don’t shoot a comeback line. How would Tash know that and not me? Maybe she’s making it up?

  She’s not. About an hour after morning bell Kayla slinks into class and Mr Smith doesn’t even ask her for a late slip.

  We’re doing maths, my favourite subject besides food, but I’m finding it hard to concentrate on fractions. I’m wondering what’s going through Kayla’s mind and what I’m going to say to her at recess. I think I’ll buy her a chocolate milk – that’s never failed to cheer her up.

  I can’t sit still so I go to the bin and sharpen my pencil. It needs sharpening after I accidentally-on-purpose snapped it on my maths worksheet. On the way back I take a short detour and pass Kayla’s desk, throwing her a smile to let her know I’m happy to see her.

  She looks different. Her face is thinner and the skin around her mouth pulled tighter. She looks at me and turns her lips up slightly, but it’s not the smile she usually gives. It looks like the smile you’d give someone that you don’t really like that much. I feel a bit hurt inside and then I get mad at myself for feeling like this when she’s the one who is going through the real heartache.

  When the bell rings, her friends swallow her with hugs and I wish I could do the same but I can’t because they’re all girls and I’m not. I’ll wait until she’s less busy.

  I go and play handball with the guys – munching on a carrot (dipped in honey) while I’m lining up to become dunce.

  Withers is hanging around like a bad smell. ‘Can I play?’

  He doesn’t ask me but Marcus Wright, the Ace. It’s a good name for Marcus as he’s a hotshot tennis player who’s going to be famous one day if you believe all the newspapers. Marcus nods to the end of the line and Withers joins in, beside me.

  We don’t speak. What is there to say to someone who used to be your best friend? The last time we shared this handball court he called me a name and I threw a ball into his eye. It wasn’t my finest hour, but it was a pretty darn fine throw.

  ‘Sorry to hear about Kayla’s dad,’ he says.

  ‘What?’ I almost think I heard Withers say …

  ‘Sorry. About Kayla’s dad.’

  He did say the S word.

  ‘Can you tell Kayla that for me?’ he says.

  I’m about to say that he can tell her himself, but there’s something in Withers’ voice that makes me think he’s not teasing this time.

  ‘All right.’ I answer.

  ‘Why aren’t you with her now?’ he asks.

  ‘Because …’

  ‘You’re her boyfriend, aren’t you?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Well, she’s probably feeling bad. Don’t you wanna cheer her up?’

  I don’t answer. For someone so dumb, he’s making a tiny bit of sense.

  There’s another pause. The blokes are arguing over whether or not the ball hit the line and it’s taking forever.

  ‘I have to go to the toilet,’ I say to Withers.

  ‘The toilet? Yeah, right. Good luck.’

  I grin. ‘Same to you. Watch out for Marcus’ serve. It’s got a lot of spin on it.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  The first place I visit is not the toilet but the tuckshop. There’s no line by now so I’m able to pick up a chocolate milk and a smile off Jan straightaway. Then I find Kayla. She’s sitting at a table with Tash, Nina and Jasmine.

  ‘Hi, Matt,’ say Nina and Jasmine.

  ‘Hi,’ I answer.

  Tash and Kayla don’t say anything.

  I sit down and there’s an awkward silence.

  Nina breaks it. ‘We were just about to go to the toilet. Weren’t we, Jas?’

  ‘What?’

  Nina gives her a nudge.

  ‘Oh, yep. Gotta love the toilet. See ya, Kayla.’

  ‘See ya,’ Kayla replies.

  Both girls stand up. Tash doesn’t.

&nbs
p; ‘You coming, Tash?’ asks Nina.

  She doesn’t answer.

  ‘We really want to talk to you about something,’ says Jasmine.

  ‘Okay.’ Tash sighs, like she’s doing them a favour. ‘See you, sweetie,’ she says to Kayla, giving her a long hug. ‘And remember what I said.’

  Tash looks at me, scrunches up her nose and walks off with the others.

  Good riddance, I think.

  ‘For you.’ I pass Kayla the chocolate milk.

  ‘Thanks,’ she says, but she doesn’t open it.

  There’s a long pause. Our conversation has stalled before it’s begun. I decide I better say something to break the ice.

  ‘A funny thing just happened. Withers started talking to me.’

  ‘Really? What did he say?’

  ‘He told me to come and see you.’

  ‘So is that why you’re here? Because Withers told you to?’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Well, isn’t that what you said?’

  ‘Yeah, but …’ This chat isn’t going like I thought it would.

  She waves her hand to let me know that it’s okay. Sort of.

  ‘How’s your dad?’ I say.

  ‘Everybody’s asking me that. He’s still in hospital. We don’t know for how long. The doctors are worried he might have another heart attack because he’s so big.’

  I nod. ‘How’s your mum and little bro?’

  ‘They’re okay.’

  ‘Good.’

  There’s another pause.

  ‘What about me?’ she says quietly.

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘You’ve asked about my dad, mum and brother, but you haven’t asked how I am.’

  I punch myself on the inside. ‘Sorry. How are you?’

  ‘I’ve been better.’

  And then she starts crying. I’ve never had a girl cry in front of me before – except for my mum – so I’m not exactly sure what to do.

  I walk around and sit next to her, reaching out and touching her shoulder. She doesn’t pull away so I give her back a little rub and she cuddles in close, her head against my chest.

  It’s nice to be touching her, but sad to see someone I like feeling so bad. If I could swallow her pain all up, I would.