Kate opened her mouth to respond, but then noticed other students returning to their seats holding papers and realised the lecturer was handing back their last assignment. Breathing a sigh of relief, she slunk down to the front desk, keeping her eyes downcast as she grabbed her assignment from the pile so as to avoid the stern gaze of Associate Professor Harold Frezwar.
A tall, rotund, balding man who habitually wore a starched white shirt and a tie, Harold Frezwar lived and breathed economics and expected the same enthusiasm from his students. Considering she had zero passion for the subject, theirs was not a very warm affiliation.
Kate’s heart began to pound as she made her way back to her seat. I’m sure I’ve failed, she thought grimly. I threw this together at the very last moment with only the vaguest understanding of the subject matter. Harold is such a hard marker, there’s no way he would have passed it.
Sitting back down, Kate put her assignment on the desk but couldn’t bring herself to flip it over and read her grade on the back. She had hoped for another few days of grace before this particular nightmare came back to haunt her.
Harold’s voice broke into her thoughts. ‘All in all the standard of the essays was reasonable,’ he intoned. ‘Although of course there were several that I simply could not pass.’ Pausing dramatically, he cast his unyielding gaze around the room, settling, it seemed, right on Kate.
Heat suffused her neck and face. Just get it over with, she thought. Open the stupid thing and see how badly you actually did. Taking a deep breath, she turned the stack of pages over to reveal the grading sheet with her mark written boldly in red.
53%.
Kate stared at the numbers for a moment, certain she must be seeing things. She had passed! Just barely, but it was enough. Exhaling sharply, she smiled in relief. Somehow she had scraped through again, but at the same time she knew her luck couldn’t hold out forever. At some point she was going to have to shake off this apathy.
Noticing the time, Kate packed up her belongings and as soon as Harold dismissed the class she bolted out the door.
It was a hot October day. Kate fanned herself with a notebook as she sat near the main entrance to Queensland University of Technology, sweltering in the midday sun. Checking her watch, she sighed impatiently. Her friend Fiona was always late. Even when she gave a fake meeting time quarter of an hour earlier than the actual time, Fiona never showed up first.
Ten minutes later Fiona finally emerged. She jostled her way through the crowds of students milling around the campus entrance and jogged towards Kate. Why does she bother rushing now wondered Kate, as she stood and slung her backpack over her shoulder. She’s already this late, what’s another minute?
‘Sorry, sorry,’ Fiona said as she bustled over. ‘The queue for the photocopier was huge, and then I couldn’t find my library card. I had to unpack my whole purse, then I realised it was in my pocket all along.’
Kate nodded. At least her excuses were original. She rarely used the same one twice.
‘How come we’re meeting this early anyway?’ Fiona asked, as she unscrewed the lid off her water bottle. ‘Didn’t you have that tute for accounting?’
‘Nah, decided to ditch it.’
‘Well shopping is definitely more exciting,’ Fiona said before taking a swig of water. ‘And you’ve gotta love the fact that the Queen Street Mall is right on our doorstep.’
‘Absolutely,’ Kate agreed.
It was late afternoon when they disembarked from the bus, each holding a shopping bag. ‘Are you sure your mum doesn’t mind me coming over for dinner again?’ Kate asked.
‘Nah, she sees it as her civic duty to ensure you get a home cooked meal as often as possible.’
They both laughed.
A carpet of jacaranda blooms littered the nature strip in Fiona’s street. ‘They’re so pretty,’ Kate said, as they sloughed through them. ‘And they make you realise summer is not far away.’
‘Yeah, but watch your head,’ Fiona advised.
‘What?’
‘Haven’t you heard the University of Queensland legend that if a bloom falls on your head during exam time then you’re destined to fail?’
Kate leapt back onto the bitumen and cast a fearful eye up at the tree, lest a whole branch come crashing down on her. Then she laughed. ‘We don’t even go to UQ and exams are still ages away.’
• • • • •
Even with the end of the semester looming, The Victory pub was packed on Saturday night two weeks later. Happy hour was in full swing and Kate was relieved to see that she and her friends weren’t the only ones who had ditched studying for the night.
‘Mel and her friends are working on some group assignment,’ she yelled in Fiona’s ear. ‘So it’s not like I’d be able to study anyway with them all there.’
Hiking up her precarious strapless top Fiona gave a wry smile. ‘Yeah how inconsiderate,’ she yelled back. ‘Forcing you to go out and party instead.’
Kate poked out her tongue. Fiona grinned in reply as she adjusted her top again.
Fixing a carefree expression on her face Kate sipped her West Coast Cooler and bopped along to Hunters and Collectors. Fiona was so lucky she could get away with such a revealing outfit. Her own top was much more sedate. No matter what they said about black being slimming, it was difficult to disguise the eight extra kilos she had gained this year. She wasn’t overweight exactly, but not slender anymore either. It was something she had always taken for granted before.
Fiona leaned over to shout in Kate’s ear again. ‘So are you going to stay sharing with Mel next year?’
Rolling her eyes dramatically Kate hiked her shoulders. ‘Who knows? Anyway I might not even be here next year.’
Placing her empty glass on a table, Fiona grabbed Kate’s wrist. ‘You’re not really thinking about leaving are you?’
Kate shrugged again and sighed. ‘I don’t know! I just can’t stand the thought of studying business for another two whole years.’
‘So change courses. You’re getting good at that,’ Fiona smirked.
‘I know, I know, all the chopping and changing has been a bit ridiculous – but I really wanted to do criminal psychology. I can’t believe they rejected me.’
‘Well they’re a bit of a snobby bunch at SEQU,’ Fiona said, pronouncing it SeeKwoo rather than by its initials. ‘Would you really want to go there?’
‘Yes I would, I really had my heart set on it. Two more years is such a long time to endure economics and accounting.’
Fiona hiked her top up again. ‘Yeah, maybe, but think of the partying you’ll miss if you leave. Come on Kate nobody enjoys studying, it’s the lifestyle we’re here for. We’ve got two more years to have fun, enjoy long holidays and make the most of being young and carefree. Then when we’re finished we can bum around Europe for a year or something.’
Kate took her last mouthful of West Coast and set the bottle on the table. ‘Fine, I’ll think about it.’
With a little chuckle Fiona declared, ‘I know you Kate – the minute you have to start writing job applications you’ll cut your losses and decide to stay.’
Early the next afternoon Kate stared glassy eyed at the cars hurtling around the racetrack. I’m really scraping the bottom of the barrel, she decided as she lay listlessly on the couch. Motor racing is the watching paint dry of weekend TV and I’m using it as a distraction.
Hauling herself to her feet a few minutes later she flicked the TV off before gathering the various sections of The Sunday Mail into a semi-neat pile. Salvaging the sealed hand wipe and extra napkin from the KFC box, Kate dumped them in the junk basket on the kitchen bench before heading to her room.
Finally seated at her desk, Kate ploughed through her economics questions. Frustrated to know so few of the answers, she started doodling. WHO CARES??? she scrawled under question five. Well, it was lucky that some people did care, or else the world economy would be in lots of trouble. It wasn’t that she didn’t see the point of
economics, she had just realised early on that it wasn’t something she wanted to spend time thinking about.
Eventually tossing the worksheet aside, she moved on to accounting. No more appealing than economics, Kate struggled to stay focused on the journal entries she was supposed to create. Having missed tutorials for the past three weeks, she cursed her own laziness. She would definitely attend tomorrow and round up notes from someone.
At eight thirty Kate shuffled out to the kitchen in search of something to eat. While Mel’s shelves held a reasonable stockpile of food, hers were depressingly empty. Even if she had the energy to go out in search of take-away, her options at this time on a Sunday night were limited. And she wasn’t quite desperate enough to risk eating a hot dog from the servo down the road.
Making a face Kate grabbed her last can of baked beans and stole a slice of Mel’s bread to make toast. Upending the beans into a bowl, she stuck it in the microwave and set the timer.
Nothing happened.
‘No, don’t do this now,’ she cried, giving the console a well-practised thump.
Still nothing.
I’ve had it with this stupid thing, she thought, banging her hand down on top of it. This time she was rewarded with a welcome hum.
As the beans spun around slowly, she flicked the TV on. I’ll just watch while I eat, she reasoned. Then I’ll get back to it.
Beans and toast in hand Kate plonked onto the couch and channel surfed for a few moments, eager for any diversion from uni work. She found it in Back To The Future, one of her favourite movies. Having seen it countless times on video Kate decided she would only watch until nine thirty. But inevitably that deadline came and went. At ten o’clock she conceded it was too late to start studying again and instead kept watching until the credits rolled. As she collapsed into bed at ten forty-five, Kate promised herself that this coming week she would really get motivated.
• • • • •
Five days later Kate took in the familiar surrounds of her guidance counsellor’s office, before glancing again at the commemorative World Expo ’88 clock on the wall. The secretary had shown her in and assured her that Patricia was coming, but it was now nine thirty and her appointment had been for twenty past. Like Fiona, Patricia always seemed to be running late.
When she finally bustled in, Kate was sure she caught a hint of impatience in her greeting. ‘Kate, hello… again,’ she murmured before dumping a pile of folders on an already overloaded desk.
A short, plump woman with steel grey hair, Patricia always looked a little harassed. Or maybe it’s just in my presence, Kate thought. I must be one of the ficklest students she has ever come across.
‘So what can I do for you today?’ Patricia asked before sitting down on her bright pink swivel chair.
‘I’m just letting you know I’ll soon be out of your hair,’ Kate replied. ‘I’m going to withdraw.’
Patricia’s face softened. ‘Well, we did talk about that. I think taking a year out would be a really good thing for you. It will give you a chance to work out what you really want to do. And you’ll have this year’s credit to use as a building block for something else. Just let them know at admin.’
‘No, I mean I’m withdrawing now, as of today.’
‘What on earth for?’ Patricia asked. ‘There’s only one week until study break.’
‘I’ve had enough. All week I’ve been sitting in lectures and tutes gradually coming to the realisation there’s no way I can catch up. What’s the point in sitting exams I’m going to fail?’
‘But you’ll get four fails on your transcript anyway if you withdraw now. If you at least try you might make a conceded pass or even a pass. It will give you lots more options.’
‘No, my mind is made up,’ Kate assured her. ‘Not getting into criminal psychology was obviously a sign. I’m just not meant to be at university. Thanks for all your help anyway.’ Kate smiled as she stood to leave, revelling in the sense of relief her decision had brought about.
Patricia stood too. ‘Oh Kate I wish you wouldn’t. Please think about this more! At the very least don’t officially drop out just yet. I’d hate you to change your mind.’
Kate shook her head as she walked to the door. ‘Trust me, I won’t.’
• • • • •
The Beach House is available as an e-book and in paperback.
Flashback Page 6