Rebel With A Cause

by Ashleigh Neame

  Chapter 8

  Once upon a time there was a cheeky, sports-mad young boy. He had dark hair and coffee eyes, just like his father. The only thing he had inherited from his mother was her light skin. His father’s Māori heritage did not show through.

  This young boy particularly loved soccer, despite his father’s insistence that rugby was a superior sport. The young boy practiced every day, and he was getting quite good.

  His favourite trick was bouncing the ball on one knee, and seeing how long he could keep it in the air. He had almost mastered it.

  “Dad! Look!” he cried. He was in the back yard with his cousin, showing of his skills. His father was at the barbeque, grilling the hamburger patties and chatting to his uncle, and his mother was chatting with his Aunty.

  “Yeah, I’ll be there in a second, son,” his father called back, barely even looking his way. The young boy noticed and dropped the ball, a deep frown etched onto his face.

  Carter woke with a start. It had been years since he’d dreamed about his parents. Usually he’d been able to forget, but going back to the Overlook last night had awakened all of his old anger towards his parents.

  Kaitlyn stirred in his arms, and he looked down at her, expressionless. He loved her, and she was too good for him. He needed to set her free. He didn’t want to lose the only good thing in his life right now, but she deserved better.

  “I love you,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry. You deserve better than me.”

  As if sensing his distress, Kaitlyn stirred gently. “Carter,” she murmured. She sounded as if she was in pain. “Please,” she begged.

  Carter fiercely hugged her to his side and placed a quick kiss on her forehead. He hated himself for what he was about to do, but he knew that he was going to do it anyway.

  He allowed himself one more moment of contentment before he did a selfish thing – he left her.

  He got up, pulled yesterday’s jeans on and walked into the kitchen. He grabbed a pen and a piece of paper from by the phone and scribbled a note to Kaitlyn. He hesitated, but knew – or at least he hoped – that he was doing the right thing.

  He left the note on the kitchen bench and stared at it a minute. He was throwing away the one good thing that had ever happened to him, but he knew he couldn’t stay with her. He was damaged goods, and he would corrupt her, poison her even, if he hadn’t already.

  He turned away and grabbed his keys off the hook in the kitchen then went into the laundry. He pulled a fresh singlet and hoodie out of the dryer and threw them on then ran out of the house. He couldn’t stand to be in there one more minute, not with Kaitlyn still asleep in his bed. He couldn’t face her, not yet.

  Carter wasn’t there when Kaitlyn woke up.

  She’d woken up about an hour and a half after he left, only to find that his side of the bed was cold. She wrapped the top sheet around her body and climbed out of bed.

  “Carter?” she called. “Where are you?”

  There was no answer, and only then did Kaitlyn realise how quiet the house was. There was no chatter of the TV, which Carter would be watching if he were home. There were no taps dripping, and no sounds of life. The only thing she could hear was the low hum of the refrigerator. Her stomach clenched uneasily and she hurried to the bathroom.

  After expelling the contents of her stomach into the toilet bowl, she went into the kitchen for a glass of water, to wash the acrid taste out of her mouth. It was then when she came across Carter’s letter.

  Kaitlyn, it read, I’m sorry. I need you to pack your stuff and get out. You can keep the house, if you want it. I’ll carry on with the lease on this place. Keep the car, too. It was a gift to you. Take everything I ever gave you, you deserve all of that and so much more.

  I’m sorry, but we can’t be together.

  “That bastard!” she fumed. “He couldn’t even stick around to dump me! He had to write a letter!”

  She angrily threw the glass into the sink where it shattered, just like her heart. She felt a tear slide down her cheek and dashed it away, furious with herself. She would not shed a tear for that bastard. Not ever. If he couldn’t even dump her face to face, then he wasn’t worth it.

  She walked into the bathroom, shedding the bed sheet and turning on the shower. She allowed herself the luxury of one last hot shower at Carter’s expense, because there was no way in hell that she was taking the house. She didn’t want anything from him, and she was dithering over whether to even take the car.

  She was also wondering where she would stay from now on. She couldn’t go back home, not after her dramatic exit. Her dad would be all smug and arrogant, and her mother would be sympathetic. She didn’t want any sympathy, and especially no pity. She was seventeen years old. She could handle this herself.

  She turned the shower off and wrapped a towel around her. She kicked the sheet into a corner of the bathroom and went back to the bedroom. She opened up the wardrobe, pulled out her favourite red skinny jeans and a camel coloured, oversized cable-knit jumper. She quickly dressed then pulled out her old duffel bag from under the bed.

  She pulled out all her clothes from the wardrobe and folded them all neatly, before placing them in the bag. She pulled on some black casual sneaker type shoes and laced them up. She buried the other fourteen pairs of shoes she had in her duffel bag.

  She considered trashing Carter’s things and defacing his place, but she was starting to feel sick just being in his house.

  She hoisted her bag onto her shoulder and left, leaving his house unlocked. She stared at the car that Carter had bought for her – should she take it or not? She couldn’t decide.

  The weight of the bag on her shoulder decided for her. She walked back inside and grabbed the keys, as well as thirty thousand dollars from Carter’s racing stash.

  That should teach him, she thought bitterly.

  She walked out again, popped the boot of the car, dumped her bag in it then got in the driver’s seat. She locked the doors and pulled out her cell phone.

  She briefly wondered about her grandmother, her mum’s mother. She’d never met her, and she wondered why. Surely she couldn’t be that bad?

  She decided to pay her a visit, before deciding whether to stay at T-Man’s or not.

  “Can I help you?” Kaitlyn was greeted by a woman in her late forties, or perhaps her early fifties.

  “Uh, I’m looking for Anna Baxter?” she asked hesitantly. “The last address I have for her is this one, seven, Magic Way.”

  The woman eyed her suspiciously. “I am Anna Baxter, who are you?”

  Kaitlyn breathed a sigh of relief. She had the right address after all.

  “My name’s Kaitlyn Johnson, and Layla Baxter is my mother.”

  The woman’s shock was apparent on her face. “You’re my granddaughter?”

  Kaitlyn nodded. “I have a little brother too, his name’s Jordan Johnson, but we all call him Jordy.”

  “Good lord, I think I need to sit down.” The woman walked away inside, leaving the door wide open. Kaitlyn assumed this meant that she could go in, and hesitantly closed the door behind her.

  “Are you ok?” she asked. Her grandmother had just collapsed on her couch. “Do you need a glass of water?”

  Anna eyed her suspiciously. “No, I don’t. What are you doing here anyway? Did your mother kick you out?”

  Kaitlyn hated the way she sneered when she said your mother.

  “No,” Kaitlyn replied. “I moved out to live with my boyfriend, only he dumped me and now I have nowhere to go.”

  Her grandmother looked at her. “Well you’re not staying here, if that’s what you’re thinking. I don’t even know you. What’s become of your mother now anyway?”

  Kaitlyn was affronted. This woman was as bad as her mum had always said.

  “Mum’s a wedding planner, now. She’s made quite a name for herself. She was even asked to write a book, and maybe a TV show about what she does.”

  The woman looked surprised. “I
hadn’t expected that. I thought when she decided to keep her baby she was screwing up her life. I tried to get her to have an abortion. Imagine what she could have done if she hadn’t kept you.”

  Kaitlyn sighed. This was going nowhere. “Right. Look, Mrs Baxter, I’m just going to go. I came here to meet my grandmother, to see if she was as bad as mum made her out to be. I thought mum was just being a cow. Obviously not.”

  “You can’t talk to your grandma like that!” Anna snapped.

  Kaitlyn looked her dead in the eye. “You’re right, I can’t. Good thing you’re not my grandma then. My grandma is Natalie Johnson, and she’s one hell of a woman. I want to be like her when I grow up, and not a bitter old hag like you.”

  Anna gasped. “Devil child!”

  Kaitlyn shrugged. “Maybe so, but it’s better than being a wicked witch like you.”

  She walked out and jumped back in her car. She was going to stay with T-Man. He’d be a much nicer host than Anna Baxter.

  T-Man answered after the fourth ring.

  “T-Man here, what’s up?”

  “T-Man? It’s Kaitlyn.”

  “Katie! What can I do for ya?”

  “I need a place to stay. Carter kicked me out. Know anyone who can put me up for the night?”

  “Sure, you can come and crash here if you want. Six, Barnard Place.”

  “Hey, T-Man,” she said as she walked into his house. “I’m here!”

  He came walking out of the lounge, in his signature too long t-shirt and low-slung baggy jeans.

  “Katie! We were just watching the rugby, wanna join?”

  She grinned. “Nah, just point me to where my room is and I’ll unpack. Who else is here?”

  “Uh, Marcus, Deangelo, and Jackson - you haven’t met Jackson before, have you? Come and say hi when you’re finished unpacking. Your room is second storey, first door on the left.”

  She nodded. “Thanks for letting me stay here, T-Man. I promise to chip in with the rent while I’m here, and I’ll even do the cooking and cleaning.”

  He laughed. “As long as you do the cooking and cleaning, you don’t have to pay rent. I can’t cook, and this place certainly needs a good cleaning.”

  She grinned and went off to unpack.

  When she came back downstairs, she walked into the lounge and sat on the empty recliner next to the door. The boys’ eyes slid over to her, and the guy she didn’t recognise – Jackson, she assumed – gawked.

  “T-Man, everyone’s staring at me,” she laughed. He grinned.

  “Jackson, Deangelo, this is Katie Johnson. She’s been in the circuit for a while now.”

  Jackson’s eyes widened. “You’re a girl racer?”

  She shook her head. “Not yet, I need more practice. If there was one thing Carter was right about, it’s that I need to do a defensive driving course. I don’t want to be like Bekah.” She turned to Marcus. “Speaking of Bekah, what’s up with you and her? Are you together now?”

  Marcus leaned towards Katie. “Say the word and I’ll drop her in a heartbeat.”

  She shook her head. “Nah, I’m good.”

  Deangelo laughed. “She’s Carter’s girl, Marcus. She’s taken.”

  “Actually, I’m not. Carter dumped me this morning, in a note.”

  T-Man’s eyes boggled. “He dumped you in a note? Are you sure?”

  She nodded. “He was gone when I woke up, and I found a note on the kitchen bench, telling me to get out. So I left.”

  T-Man shook his head. “No way, I don’t believe it. Carter was infatuated with you. Why the hell would he ditch you?”

  Kaitlyn shrugged. “I don’t know, and I really couldn’t care less. If he was too chicken to dump me face-to-face, than he obviously wasn’t worth it.”

  She was slightly amused by the boys’ behaviour. They were too busy wrapped up in the drama of her break up with Carter that they just missed a try, scored by the All Blacks. They were like the stereotypical woman, desperate for the next episode of their daytime soap.

  “I don’t buy it,” T-Man sighed. “Maybe you should talk to Carter. Are you coming to the races tonight?”

  She shrugged. “May as well. Beats sitting around here anyway.”

  She smirked at T-Man, insinuating that his house was too boring to spend time in alone. He just rolled his eyes.

  Her phone began to buzz in her pocket – someone was ringing her. She pulled it out and checked the caller I.D. It was her mum.

  “I’ll be right back,” she told the guys. She walked outside and sat down on the veranda. “Hello?” she answered.

  “Katie? It’s mum.”

  “I know. What can I do for you?”

  Her mother sighed. “Honey, you’re father and I have split up.”

  Kaitlyn felt like her heart was breaking even more. There was a sharp pain in her chest, and she struggled to breath. What Carter had done to her, that was nothing, nothing compared to this.

  “Is it because of me?” she whispered into the phone. “Is it because I snuck out all the time? Is it because I moved out? I can come home; I can be a model daughter!”

  “No, honey, it’s not because of you. Your father hasn’t been happy for a long time. We were in counselling for the past year and a half, and we both knew a divorce was coming. Are you ok?”

  Kaitlyn sniffed and laughed bitterly. “I’m fine. Carter dumped me, I have nowhere to live, and my parents just broke up. I’m doing just fine.”

  Her mother gasped. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. Come home. You can always come home. Jordy misses his big sister.”

  “I can’t. We both know I’m more trouble than I’m worth. I’ll just make it that much harder. Maybe Anna was right; maybe you should have got rid of me while you still had the chance.”

  “Honey, your father and I both love you very much. Go and stay with him if you don’t want to come home. He’s renting an apartment in Manukau. He’d love to have you.”

  “No thanks, Mum. I screwed everything up. I’m sorry.”

  She pulled the phone away from her ear and hung up, before she could hear any more of her mother’s comforting words. Kaitlyn knew they were lies, and so did her mother. What Kaitlyn had said was the truth. She was the reason her parents had broken up, and even if she wasn’t, she hadn’t helped matters.

  She was so selfish.

  Chapter 9

  The news had come as a shock for Kaitlyn. She had always viewed her parents as a team, a rock solid team that nothing could break. As it turned out, there was something that could ruin it, and that something was her.

  Secretly, Kaitlyn had always wanted to be like her parents. She wanted the fairytale that they seemed to have. So it crushed her to find out it was a lie.

  When she walked back into the living room after the phone call, T-Man had noticed a difference. Kaitlyn had curled up in the armchair and pulled her knees up to her chest. She held her phone clenched tightly in her hand.

  “Everything ok?” he’d asked. She’d smiled briefly at him and gone back to watching the rugby, and when the boys finally went home to prepare for the race later that night, she’d made him dinner.

  Just before midnight they left to go to the races. T-Man had originally wanted to drive his ugly Skyline. Kaitlyn had complained about the interior.

  “Seriously,” she’d whined, “could your car be any messier?” Empty chip packets littered the front passenger wheel well, along with empty condom wrappers and squished beer cans.

  T-Man had rolled his eyes. “Don’t be such a princess.”

  She’d eyed the car distastefully. “Is it even safe to sit? I won’t catch a nasty STD or anything will I?”

  T-Man had frowned. “Girl, stop hating on my car. If it’s that bad, why don’t we take your car?”

  She’d hesitated, looking between T-Man’s ugly black and blue Skyline and her own Hatchback Impreza. Her car was definitely the nicer option.

  “I don’t know…” she had said, chewing her bottom lip. “Carter
bought me that car. It’s not mine, it’s his.”

  T-Man had shrugged. “So? As you so sweetly pointed out, my car is the pits. Yours is new. I vote we take yours.”

  Kaitlyn had looked at it and shrugged. “Ok, but you’re driving. I don’t know where we’re going.”

  It was a half an hour drive away, in Auckland’s CBD. The race was to begin at the intersection of Karangahape Road and West Terrace, where it was usually pretty quiet. Racers would drive along Karangahape Road, or K’Road as it was more commonly known, until they reached the Queen Street intersection. Then, they would turn a sharp left, and drive one point six kilometres downhill, most likely speeding, until they reached the ferry building. They’d take a sharp right and drive until they reached a short one-way street. They’d go up that street and turn right onto Beach Road, which was ironically, nowhere near the beach. They’d take a slow turn onto the winding Anzac Avenue, a street famed for its cheap student accommodation, and then merge into one of the busiest roads in Auckland. They would continue up Symonds Street until they reached the other end K’Road, which they would turn right onto and continue along until they reached the start line again.

  If someone was driving normally, at fifty kilometres an hour the whole way, and didn’t mind illegally cutting through the bus only part of Queen Street, it would take about fifteen minutes to drive the whole track. However, at the speeds the racers went, it was estimated that it would only take five.

  As T-Man and Kaitlyn arrived at the starting point, Kaitlyn grew silent. Carter would be at the race tonight, and after her mum’s shocking revelation this afternoon, she wasn’t sure that she could take seeing him.

  Luckily, looking good was her best defence, and looking at Kaitlyn now, you couldn’t tell that she was hurting inside. Before coming out tonight, she’d changed into her leather hot pants that Carter said made her ass look hot. She’d teamed them with a plain black tank top and an off-the-shoulder t-shirt in blue. She had a giant pink heart in it, with a slightly smaller gold heart poking out from under it. Instead of her usual high tops, she’d chosen black military style high heel boots.