Everything is Changed

by Nova Weetman

  ‘I’ve finished …’ I say, turning around.

  Mr Cap slowly marks the page he’s reading and closes his book. ‘So have I. Good timing, Jake. For I believe the bell is about to go in three, two, one …’

  We both wait. And wait. And then just as I’m about to give up, it cuts in, that electric sound, marking the end of lunch and the beginning of more learning.

  ‘No scientific precision today. Oh well,’ Mr Cap says, standing up and smiling at me. ‘Thanks for your help. Come back any lunch. There’s always dishes. And let’s have a chat about next year.’

  ‘Okay,’ I say, walking out into the corridor as the other kids are pouring in from outside. I see Alex and Ellie holding hands, and I realise I’m now the third corner of a triangle that wants to be something else. In other words, I’m on the way out.

  alex

  Today’s the day. I’ve showered. Twice. Rolled on way too much deodorant and shaved the straggly hairs that were starting to grow on my chin. Now if I could only work out which shirt to wear, I’d be good to go.

  ‘Orange or blue?’ I ask Sass from the doorway to her room. She’s lying on the floor reading a book the way she usually is on a Saturday. She makes me wait until she’s finished her page before looking up.

  ‘Blue,’ she says without giving it proper thought.

  ‘Really?’ I love my blue t-shirt but it’s a skater sort of t-shirt and I’m not convinced that it’s right for a date.

  ‘Orange,’ she says, not even bothering to look up this time.

  ‘You’re no help.’

  I walk back to my room and stand among all the clothes I’ve thrown everywhere trying to find the right thing. I’m going blue. Jeans. Vans. Pretty much what I wear to school so it doesn’t look like I’ve made too much of an effort.

  Lottie pushes open my door with her nose. I click my fingers and she scampers over to my bed, then tries to scramble up. I give her a bit of help and she licks my face as a thank you.

  I sniff under my arms again and they smell okay.

  ‘Where are you going, Alex?’

  I look up and see Sass in my room.

  ‘She’s a walking, talking girl,’ I say sarcastically.

  ‘Shut up. I finished my book. Came to help.’

  ‘I’ve got a date,’ I say, liking the sound of the sentence.

  Her face lights up in delight. ‘Ooh. Name?’

  ‘Ellie Telford,’ I say, immediately regretting giving her the whole name because I know she’ll go to her room and Google her.

  ‘Short for Eleanor?’

  ‘I dunno.’

  ‘You should know. Those things are important,’ says my sister.

  I smile at her and she smiles back.

  ‘I’ll find out.’

  ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘Movies.’

  ‘Not something dumb,’ she says, like I have no idea how to pick an appropriate film.

  ‘Really? I thought a war film would be good.’

  She rolls her eyes at me and, just like that, I can feel my world tilt ever so slightly so it’s almost back where it should be.

  ‘Wear the orange,’ she says as she walks out.

  ‘Too late.’

  ‘You’ll regret it!’

  I open my cupboard and look in the mirror. I look fine, just like normal, except for the tiny nick on my chin where the razor blade cut. At least it’s dark in the movies so maybe she won’t notice.

  I head for the door and Lottie trails after me. I move so fast; Lottie barks like crazy at all the excitement.

  ‘Stay, Lottie.’ I say it as firmly as I can, which just makes her lick my ankles. I reach down to pat her back, and she stops moving, her stillness telling me she wants more patting.

  Mum and Dad are doing their usual Saturday afternoon routine, the paper spread all over the dining room table. I manage to walk past them and into the kitchen without either of them even looking up. I’m about three-quarters of the way into making my Vegemite sandwich when I hear Mum say, ‘It was just down the road.’

  My stomach lurches. I leave the bread on the plate as I try to settle my body. I know what she’s going to say. I know exactly what she’s going to say.

  ‘Bloody kids, I’ll bet,’ says Dad in his most judgemental voice.

  ‘They don’t know. He’s in a coma. Imagine,’ says Mum in her most outraged voice. Mum loves graphic injury. It’s like she’s so desperate to feel alive in whatever way she can that pitying some poor bastard who has ended up hurt in a particularly gruesome way makes her feel electric.

  ‘If he dies, I hope they go away for life.’

  ‘They have to catch them first,’ says Mum.

  I lean against the bench as they keep talking. I can hear the anger. The suspicion. Before long Dad will blame it on some foreigner.

  I know I have to go. She’ll be waiting for me at the cinema but my legs are frozen to the spot and I don’t feel like I can move at all.

  ‘Well, I’m glad we’re moving soon,’ says Dad, pushing back his chair and making the legs squeak on the boards.

  ‘Yes. Thank god,’ agrees Mum, like this place is the reason things like that happen on the freeway.

  ‘Alex?’

  I look up to see my dad staring at me from the doorway.

  ‘Just getting a sandwich,’ I say, quickly returning to the bread.

  ‘Did you hear about that man on the freeway?’

  I breathe. I breathe again. Smear the Vegemite in a thick line right down the middle of the white bread.

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘Bloody awful,’ says Dad, opening the fridge and taking out a bottle of beer.

  ‘Want a beer?’ he calls to my mum.

  ‘No thanks. Can you put the kettle on for me,’ she calls back.

  So it’s a usual afternoon in our normal house, except my hand is shaking as I lift the sandwich to my mouth. Dad uncaps the beer and tosses the lid onto the bench as he walks out. He forgets the kettle, so I flick it on and busy myself making a cup of tea for Mum, just to stall going out into the lounge.

  I hear my parents talking about house prices as I stir the sugar around and around, wondering how long I can stay here before somebody drags me out. Ellie will be waiting for me. I have to go.

  ‘Here Mum,’ I say, placing the hot cup down onto the table.

  She looks up at me with a smile. ‘Thanks, Alex.’

  ‘I’m out for a few hours,’ I say.

  Dad nods, not looking up from the property pages.

  ‘Where are you going?’ says Mum.

  ‘Just out with a friend.’

  Mum sips her tea. Dad reads. And I leave.

  *

  Ellie’s wearing jeans and a black short-sleeved shirt with a frilled collar. She’s got her bright cherry-red Docs on too and her hair is tied back in two short ponytails. She looks pretty much like she always does, but seeing her standing near the lolly counter makes me suddenly shy. When she spots me, she gives that lopsided smile that sort of does me in every time.

  ‘Hiya … thought I was running late,’ she says.

  I walk up and stop, unsure of whether I should lean in for a kiss or shake her hand or try not to touch her at all. I stand there with my hands pushed into my pockets, feeling ridiculous, and realise I haven’t answered her. ‘Yeah, sorry …’

  She shrugs one shoulder and leans up to kiss me on the cheek. As she pulls away, I know I’m blushing and she laughs and it makes me think I’ve done something dumb, but then she rubs the spot on my cheek where she kissed me. ‘Sorry, I left lipstick.’

  ‘Oh,’ I say, wondering if it’s all gone but not wanting to check either.

  ‘We should get our tickets. Think it’s about to start,’ she says.

  I nod and then have the next nervous thought. Do I pay? I can. I have heaps of cash because Dad’s always generous with my allowance, but will she want me to? Or am I breaking some rule?

  ‘I’ll get the tickets,’ I say, stepping forward to
where a guy who looks even younger than me is waiting behind the counter.

  ‘Okay. But can we see the horror film?’

  I look at her and laugh, then realise she’s serious.

  ‘Sure. I thought …’

  ‘Yeah, you thought I’d like that indie American chick flick … nah,’ she says. ‘Do you want an ice cream?’

  I nod and she moves off further down the counter.

  ‘Two tickets to the horror film, please,’ I say to the guy behind the counter, not even knowing what the title of the movie is. He prints them out and hands them to me. ‘Thirty-two bucks.’ I pay, wishing we weren’t seeing it but not knowing how to admit that to Ellie.

  ‘Alex, I need some help!’

  I look up to see Ellie struggling to hold a giant bucket of popcorn, a huge drink and two ice creams. She looks like she’s going to drop the lot. Laughing, I grab the drink from her and one of the ice creams.

  ‘So this is mine … what are you having?’ she jokes. I bump her playfully, but it makes her tip the popcorn tub to one side and a yellow stream of popcorn rains down on my foot. She laughs as she rights it again.

  As we walk super close to each other towards cinema nine, I realise it’s the longest stretch of time I haven’t thought about the accident. Maybe Ellie is the answer. Maybe being with her will let me forget.

  ‘I’ve wanted to see this for ages,’ she says as she sits down in the middle of one of the rows. There are hardly any other people here, so we have our pick of seats. I sit down and my knee bumps against hers. I don’t want to move it away, but maybe I should. I have no idea what the etiquette is. It takes a second for Ellie to get organised with her drink and her popcorn.

  ‘I love this director,’ she whispers as the trailers start. ‘His last film was amazing.’

  ‘Great,’ I say, still wishing we were in another cinema.

  ‘Did you see it?’

  I shake my head.

  ‘You do like horror films, don’t you?’

  ‘Yeah. Course,’ I lie.

  She smiles at me and I feel myself grinning back foolishly. Lucky it’s so dark.

  ‘I might grab your hand if it’s really scary,’ says Ellie, breathing her words near my ear and making my whole body tingle.

  ‘Okay,’ I say, looking down at her hand that’s hovering close to mine. Suddenly being in a horror film doesn’t seem so bad. If it means I can hold Ellie Telford’s hand for two hours, I’d watch pretty much anything.

  jake

  The skate park is nearly empty. It’s the best thing about coming when it’s early evening in rainy Melbourne because nobody bothers, except the really hardcore skaters, and us. I’m not sure what Alex likes about skating, but for me it’s a chance to just be. It’s not about where I live, or not having a dad, it’s just about skating and being in my own world.

  ‘You need a new back wheel,’ says Alex as I skate towards him.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘I’ve got a spare at home if you want it?’

  I nod. ‘Sure.’

  Alex is always giving me stuff. Sometimes it’s things he doesn’t want anymore like his old mobile or bike, but I know it’s not done to make me feel bad or like I’m the poor one. It’s just who he is.

  ‘I’ve got a date tomorrow, Jake.’

  My chest tightens. ‘Who?’ I’m sort of holding my breath, hoping he doesn’t say what I think he’s about to say.

  ‘Ellie,’ he says with a huge smile.

  I’ve got no words. I knew this was coming. ‘Oh,’ I manage.

  He smiles again. ‘I saw her yesterday. At the chicken shop. Buying hot chips after school. We got talking. You know how it is.’

  I can’t believe my best friend would say that to me. So offhand, like I’ve ever asked a girl out.

  ‘We’re going to the movies,’ he says, rolling back and forth on his board.

  I don’t want to know about his date. I don’t want to imagine them together. I skate past him and down into the bowl. I can’t talk about Ellie. Instead I’m going to show him a carve grind trick I’ve been working on in secret, which he won’t be able to do. Alex follows me and while I curve around the bowl just getting a rhythm, he sits down on the edge, his feet dangling over. He’s never been much good at dropping into the bowl. Reckons it’s not really him, but I think he’s just scared. I was too at first but now it feels completely natural, like my body knows where to be. I start to skate around, further up the walls, in a curve, keeping my body weight slightly forward so I don’t fall backwards. It’s the weirdest feeling skating up a curved wall, and it takes a lot of practice to get it right. My elbows have been crunched so many times from when I’ve fallen off.

  I wait until he’s looking and then I skate right up to the metal edge of the bowl and, staying horizontal, let my tracks grind along the top before dropping back down into the bowl.

  ‘When’d you learn that?’

  ‘Last week.’

  ‘I’m impressed.’

  I look up at him and see that he is. He’s good like that. Impressed when you need him to be. I skate around the bowl while he sits on the edge watching.

  ‘Wanna learn?’

  ‘Nah.’

  ‘Chicken.’

  ‘Thing is, Jake, I really like my arms and legs and I don’t want to break them.’

  ‘You’re not going to break them. It’s not that hard.’

  ‘Nah.’

  ‘Come on. Time to take a risk,’ I say, sounding like I’m daring him. I skate back up and while grabbing my board, try to leap the last bit so I’ll make it to the edge of the bowl near where he’s sitting. But I misjudge it and start to slide down. He shoots his arm out and grabs me, pulling me up so I’m next to him.

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘What’s that say?’ Alex points to a large tag halfway up the bowl.

  ‘Phazza …’

  ‘That’s not a p.’

  ‘Yeah,’ I say.

  ‘Nah.’

  ‘Maybe it’s Razza,’ I say, like I really care what it says. He shrugs and then before we can dissect the badly written tag anymore, the rain starts falling more heavily and we both make a run for it.

  ‘Your place?’ he yells as we reach the road and drop our boards down. Skating in the rain isn’t great but it beats walking.

  ‘Yeah. If we’re lucky, we can catch the last of Reservoir Dogs.’

  ‘Then I’m not hurrying,’ he says, and he stops skating and picks up his board, holding it over his head like it will somehow stop the rain. I slow next to him and pick up my board too, trying to walk in step, but his legs are long and mine aren’t and I have to skip to keep up with him.

  ‘I found another article about him. Said he’s an architect. Lives in Hawthorn,’ says Alex quietly.

  I knew we’d circle back to this. He can’t help it. No matter what we’re doing, he finds a way to weave something about the man back into our conversation. I’ve been trying to forget about it. Focus on school, on science, on trying to find Ellie at lunch. But Alex is always with me, so I never get to hang out with her. Not that it matters now anyway, because if they’re going on a date then I’ve lost.

  ‘Jake? Did you hear me?’

  ‘Yeah. I know. Peter Waterman. Got a daughter our age. Married for years.’

  Alex stops, but I keep walking. The rain is heavier now and it’s pouring down my back. My shoes are soaked and I’ll have to shove newspaper inside them all night just to try to bring them back. Alex hurries after me.

  ‘I keep imagining what everyone would say if they knew what we’d done.’

  ‘Yeah, well, they don’t know.’

  ‘But what if he dies?’

  ‘He won’t, Alex. It’ll be fine,’ I say with so much conviction I almost believe it myself.

  ‘I’m going to the overpass,’ he says quietly.

  ‘No way.’

  ‘Yeah, I just want to see it. I haven’t been back. Please.’

  It’s the last thing I want
to do, but I can’t let him go alone. Besides, I sort of understand why he wants to go.

  ‘But it’s pissing down,’ I say, shaking my head so the water sprays from my hair.

  ‘Come on.’

  I start following him down the road behind the back of the houses to where the overpass is. It goes over a huge concrete wall that lines the freeway to supposedly block out the noise, but there’s always a hum droning in the background. Don’t get me wrong. I like it. It fills a lot of gaps. But there’s this thing about living so close to the freeway that means you’re constantly drawn to the idea of leaving. It’s not like living on a suburban street where everyone is travelling at the same pedestrian speed. This is a freeway. A major road that does little more than get people very fast out of where they don’t want to be.

  Instead of heading up to the overpass, Alex starts walking down the hill to the wall. There are gaps in the large concrete sheets you can squeeze through to get to the gravelly edge of the freeway.

  ‘Thought we were going up,’ I say loudly.

  He shakes his head. ‘Nah.’ He slips through a gap and is lost to me for a second, until I follow him.

  It’s a Saturday night so the cars are flying along, all eager to get to the city where the fun begins. Alex is in front of me. But I’m staying back here, right next to the concrete wall where I know nobody will find me because they’ll be too busy looking straight ahead. I already know what I’ll say if I get caught here. That I’m walking to a blue emergency phone box because Mum’s car has broken down.

  The cars whoosh past, the sound loud and angry. Their lights flick across the gravel so I can see where I’m going. For ground that isn’t supposed to be for pedestrians, there’s a lot of rubbish underfoot. Food wrappers, chip packets, stubbies. It’s like a party went off down here. I’m trying to work out where the accident happened. I’m slightly in front of the overpass so it has to be near here. I wait for another batch of cars and check the concrete wall for signs of the crash. There are tyre marks along the gravel. I imagine blood.