Dare You

by Sue Lawson

  Khaden stopped walking. ‘You know.’

  Dobson nodded. ‘Yeah, I know.’

  What did he know? Khaden’s skin felt cold and hot all at once, as he glanced from Dobson to the young cop waiting behind the driver’s seat.

  ‘Thought Stuart Martin was taking you back to his place?’

  It took Khaden a moment to remember Ruby’s lie. ‘What? Oh yeah, he did. I just have to grab stuff from home, you know, more clothes.’

  Dobson strolled across the patchy nature strip.

  ‘Am I in trouble?’

  ‘Not at all. Just wanted to see if you’d thought about what I said earlier. There are people who can help you, Khaden, and your dad.’

  ‘We’re fine.’

  ‘Yeah, that’s what I figured when I saw those new bruises.’

  Khaden ran his fingers along his jaw. ‘Look, if I’m not in trouble, I have to go. Mr Martin said I had to be quick.’

  Dobson nodded. ‘Fair enough, but Khaden if you need to—’

  ‘I know.’

  Dobson walked back to the car. ‘Oh and Khaden, no more fighting with your friends outside old ladies’ homes.’

  Khaden felt his mouth drop open.

  Dobson waved out the open window.

  Khaden jogged home, his brain a mushy mess. Could his life become any more complicated?

  At home he locked the door, put his mobile on silent and took the home phone off the hook. He played song after song—Bowie, Clapton, The Doors, Red Hot Chili Peppers—until it was dark. The feel of the strings beneath his fingers and the sound filling the air, eased the tension and made him forget about Sas and Ruby, the near-death experience, John Dobson, and his mother’s letter.

  Ruby

  Harrison stood in front of the TV, waving the Wii control. He twisted away from the game when I walked through the back door. ‘What happened to you?’

  ‘Fell,’ I said, without stopping.

  ‘Had a good cry about it too by the look of you.’

  ‘Piss off, Harrison.’ I climbed the stairs two at a time.

  In the bathroom, I took the disinfectant and band-aids from the cupboard under the sink, and cleaned myself up. Water swirled brown and red down the sink. It was like watching my life go down the drain.

  ‘Clear off, Harrison,’ I growled when there was a knock at the door.

  ‘Ruby, are you all right?’ asked Dad. He was home early, way too early. ‘Harrison said you were hurt.’

  ‘Like he cares,’ I muttered. Like anyone cared.

  ‘I’m coming in.’

  The last thing I wanted was to get into something with Dad, plus, there was no escape from him in the bathroom. ‘I’m fine.’

  The door opened. ‘Ruby, we need to talk. Before…’

  ‘…Mum gets home.’ As I finished his sentence, I dumped the rubbish in the bin.

  ‘Yeah. What happened?’

  I shrugged. ‘Fell. In Sas’s drive.’

  ‘Looks nasty.’ He stepped towards me.

  My knees killed and the sole of my right foot felt like there was no skin left on it. ‘It’s nothing.’

  Dad nodded. ‘Ruby, the woman you saw me with is just a work colleague. We were having a business meeting, a business lunch, that’s all.’ He leant against the doorjamb. ‘I can understand how it must have looked…’

  The image of the two of them—heads close together, laughing, her leg against Dad’s—filled my head. I pressed my tongue against the roof of my mouth to stop myself from speaking.

  ‘Ruby, I love your mum. Louise is…’

  Louise. Lou. My stomach fell like a stone. Was Dad the new mystery man in Sas’s mum’s life? Was he the one who had ‘things’ to work out? Were we, Harrison, Archie and me, the ‘things?’ I tried to recall every detail of the woman, but all I could remember was long, blonde, wavy hair, just like Lou’s.

  ‘Are you having an affair with Sas’s mum?’

  Dad’s frown deepened, then his face lightened. ‘Did you think…? Oh Ruby, Lou Donohue? Give me some credit.’ He reached out. ‘Ruby…’

  I jumped back, knocking the toothbrush holder into the mirror behind me. The brushes and toothpaste fell into the sink. ‘Do you think that makes it all right if the woman isn’t Sas’s mum?’ I snarled. ‘You make me sick.’

  Dad’s mouth formed a circle. ‘Ruby—’

  ‘Stop saying my name…’

  It was Dad’s turn to step back.

  ‘…and stop lying to me.’ My top lip curled. ‘I saw you!’ I yelled the last three words. ‘Late meetings, long days at golf, drinks after work. Yeah, right! I can’t believe Mum hasn’t worked it out.’

  ‘Keep your voice down,’ hissed Dad. ‘Harrison will hear you.’

  ‘Good. Actually, maybe I’ll go tell him.’

  Dad grabbed my arm.

  I tried to pull away but he tightened his grip. ‘You’re hurting me.’

  ‘Too bad,’ he hissed, dragging me towards him. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re just a child.’

  I scoffed. ‘Right, like you haven’t confirmed everything today by lying for me and by what you’ve just said.’

  ‘I’m warning you, Ruby.’

  ‘Or what, you’ll tell Mum? What do you reckon will upset her more? Me shoplifting or you having an affair with Louise?’ I spat her name.

  Dad’s grip eased. I pushed him aside and sprinted to my room, slamming the door behind me.

  ‘Ruby!’ he bellowed.

  As I heaved my bed against the door, the door opened a few centimetres, slamming into the bed.

  ‘Ruby, move whatever is blocking this door, now!’

  I heard Harrison’s foot thud on the stairs. ‘Hey, what’s going on?’

  ‘This has nothing to do with you,’ said Dad.

  ‘It does when you yell so much I can’t hear my game. What’s the big deal anyway?’

  ‘Just sorting something out with Ruby.’

  ‘Yeah well, Dad, ease up,’ said Harrison. ‘She’s hurt and upset.’

  ‘Mind your own business, Harrison,’ snapped Dad.

  ‘It’s my business if I can hear it.’

  ‘Harrison, stay out of it. Please.’ Dad’s voice was softer.

  ‘Yeah all right, as long as you two settle down,’ said Harrison. ‘Psychos.’

  The door hit the bed again, but this time it was softer, like Dad was leaning against it.

  ‘Ruby, please.’ He sounded desperate. ‘Let me in. I promise to stay calm.’

  ‘No.’ I gripped the bed-head tight.

  ‘Didn’t today prove anything? I lied to the police for you.’

  ‘You lied to stop me telling Mum.’

  ‘What do I have to do to make this right?’ The fake sweet in his voice made me want to vomit.

  ‘End it and tell Mum, or I will.’

  The pressure eased on the door. ‘If I do that, I’ll have to tell her about today, about the shoplifting.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘You’ll be grounded again, probably until Easter, or longer.’

  ‘I don’t care.’ Which was the truth. They could stop me going out for the rest of my life for all I cared. Where did I have to go anyway? My only friends had just dumped me.

  It sounded like Dad slapped his hand against the door. ‘On one condition.’

  ‘I don’t think you’re in any position to bargain.’

  Dad ignored me. ‘Promise you will NEVER steal again. God, Ruby, stealing is illegal, immor—’

  ‘Don’t you dare say immoral,’ I hissed.

  The pressure on the door eased again. I heard Dad walk away, his footsteps slow and heavy.

  ‘Coward.’ I slipped to the floor and leant against the bed-head. That’s when I realised I was crying.

  Sas

  My world exploded into a trillion pieces today, and I can’t stop crying.

  Security staff caught Khaden, Ruby and me shoplifting, Stuart lied to the police, a train just about killed Ruby, Khaden w
ent off his head, the three of us are having ‘time apart’, and worst of all, Khaden won’t answer my texts or calls. How am I meant to deal with all of that and everything still being stuffed between Dad and me?

  If Mum had just stayed out of what was going on between Dad and me in the first place, I’d have called him weeks ago and everything would be sorted by now. There’s no way I’m calling him after she stuck her big, fat nose in. The thought of her ‘I fixed everything, I’m a hero’ grin makes me want to vomit.

  She just stormed in here, waving the cordless phone around and demanding I phone Dad. She thinks I’m crying over him. How can I explain what’s really going on?

  She does have a point though. I do need to speak to Dad, in fact I’m desperate to talk to him, only I’m not making the first move. Instead I’m sending him telepathic messages.

  Ring me, Dad. Ring me. Please.

  This is too hard. Life is too hard. No friends, my dad hates me and my boyfriend has dumped me. Yeah, life’s a treasure all right.

  Khaden

  I’m going to the shed,’ said Mike, signalling the end to another silent meal.

  ‘Suits me,’ muttered Taj as the back door slammed. ‘PlayStation?’

  ‘If you help me with the dishes,’ said Khaden.

  Taj groaned. ‘Only if we play Guitar Hero.’

  Khaden filled the sink, watching the bubbles grow until they reached the top. The question sitting in his mouth grew too, until it was too big to contain. ‘Taj, have you…’

  ‘Out with it, don’t be shy,’ said Taj, flicking the tea towel at Khaden. ‘Girl problems are my specialty.’

  Khaden rubbed the spot where the flick connected with his bum. ‘It’s not exactly a girl problem.’ He dunked the plates in the hot water. ‘Why didn’t you tell me Mum had written to you?’

  Taj, who was preparing for a second attack with the tea towel, froze. ‘What?’

  ‘You heard.’ Khaden faced Taj, who had paled.

  ‘I didn’t think—’

  ‘Even after I asked you about her?’

  ‘Look.’ Taj tossed the tea towel on the sink. ‘The way I see it we’re better off without her. She left us, Khade, abandoned us with that psycho.’ He pointed at Mike’s shed.

  ‘He wasn’t always…’ Khaden folded his arms. ‘She wants to meet me. She wrote. Twice. I burnt the first one.’

  ‘Technically, that makes three letters.’ Taj bowed his head. ‘I chucked the first one in the bin.’

  Everything—the near miss with the train, the fight with Sas and Ruby, the cop hounding him and his mother’s letters—collided in Khaden’s chest. ‘What gave you the right to do that?’ he yelled.

  ‘Trust me, Khaden, it’s better—’

  ‘How do you know it’s better? How do you know we couldn’t be living with her now, not here watching Dad drown himself in beer every night?’

  Taj stepped towards him. ‘Mate, your voice…’

  ‘I don’t give a shit. What else haven’t you told me?’

  ‘Nothing, honest.’

  ‘Bullshit.’ Khaden slammed his fist onto the metal sink. ‘When did Anika write to you?’

  ‘What the hell is going on in here?’ Mike stood in the doorway, grease on his T-shirt and hands.

  ‘Nothing.’ Khaden twisted back to face the sink.

  ‘Don’t you turn your back on me,’ snarled Mike.

  ‘Yeah, good point.’ Khaden shuffled to face the door. ‘I’d rather see the punch coming.’

  Mike’s jaw tensed.

  ‘Ease up, buddy,’ said Taj, hand on his brother’s shoulder.

  Khaden shook him off. ‘Did you tell Dad?’

  ‘Tell me what?’ Mike’s voice was a low growl.

  ‘Nothing. Dad. Khade and me—’

  ‘Mum wrote to me. And Taj.’

  Khaden glanced from his pale brother to Mike.

  Mike’s hands curled into fists. ‘When?’

  Khaden could feel the anger rising off Taj.

  ‘Last year.’

  ‘And you didn’t tell me?’ Mike’s voice bounced around the room.

  Taj shook his head.

  ‘Maybe if you talked instead of yelling, I might have told you.’

  ‘You piece of—’

  ‘Stop it!’ Khaden yelled, stepping between his father and brother. ‘I started this, not Taj.’

  Mike grabbed Khaden by his favourite Ramones T-shirt and shoved him aside. The shirt tore. Khaden slammed into the table.

  Rage filled every cell of his body and pushed against his skin. He’d had enough of the lies, the tension and the fights. His mind a black, swirling mess, Khaden gritted his teeth and clenched his fist. With a grunt, he punched Mike as hard as he could.

  Mike staggered and slumped to the floor, his eyelids fluttering.

  Khaden’s mind cleared. He shrunk back. What had he done? He was no better than Mike.

  ‘Khade?’ Taj tugged on his shoulder.

  ‘I hate him, I hate her and I hate you!’ screamed Khaden. He sprinted from the kitchen and out of the house into the dark night.

  Sas

  Khaden came around last night. He looked even worse than he did last time, not bloody, but sweaty and shaky, and sure he’d killed Mike. After Mum calmed him down, she went around to their place to check on Mike. Got to give her that, she’s tough! I can’t believe I always thought she was a flake.

  While Mum was gone, Khaden and I talked and talked and decided on a few things.

  We have to tell Ruby about us. Soon.

  We have to be more honest with each other (which means I’m going to tell him about Dad, Lee and everything, but just not tonight, I’m too tired.)

  We both have to be more patient with Ruby.

  (Okay, so I have to be more patient with Ruby, Khade is patient with everyone.)

  The dares and stuff have to stop.

  We’re going to ask Ruby to come to the Angst Ridden concert at The Basement. (Taj is mixing, so he’s getting us in.)

  ♥Khaden♥ and I were good.

  When Mum came back home at about two o’clock, she told us she’d taken Taj home after finding him walking the streets looking for Khaden. When Mum and Taj arrived at Khade’s place, Mike was sitting on the front door step, bleeding from a gash above his ear. Khaden hadn’t caused that—Taj had.

  Mum took Mike to the hospital, where he had four stitches, and then took him home. She said they talked, but wouldn’t tell me what about, just that Khade would be staying with us for a couple of days.

  Now Mum and Khaden are in the lounge room talking, and I’m in bed, listening to their voices float under the door between the two rooms. I can’t hear their words, just the rise and fall of their voices.

  I can’t work out what has made Mum so—I don’t know—not motherly, because she is still a complete ditz about cooking and other domestic stuff, but so caring and wise. Just not flaky anymore.

  Now I just have to sort out Ruby and me. Fingers crossed she’ll come tomorrow night, even though it’s not her sort of music. It’ll be fun to be the three of us again. Khaden, Ruby and Sas.

  And if I can just work out the stuff between Dad and me, my life will be perfect. I miss him.

  Ruby

  I was alone, watching TV. Harrison was staying at his friend Jed’s place and Mum and Dad had just left to go to Archie’s end-of-year concert, which I’d weaselled out of by faking sick. Technically not a lie, as the thought of spending three hours on hard seats watching little kids in Christmas costumes prance about a makeshift stage did make me feel ill.

  I lay on the sofa flicking from station to station. Every couple of flicks I’d check my mobile. I hadn’t heard from Sas or Khaden—no texts or messages on Facebook, MySpace or MSN—since the train thing. At one point, my paranoia was so strong, I checked to see if they’d dumped me as a computer friend too, but they hadn’t. That didn’t make me feel any better.

  Nothing felt the same, not the sunshine, the water in the shower or eve
n my mattress. My body felt heavier, harder to move, and food tasted like dead grass, or at least how I figured dead grass would taste. Dad avoided me. Mum watched me as though I was a bomb about to explode at any second. She kept asking if I was okay, which only made me feel worse. When Mum wasn’t asking me if I was okay, or if I needed to talk, she encouraged me to ‘phone a friend’, as if my life was some demented TV game show.

  Maybe she had a point. Maybe I should make the first move, but if Sas or Khaden contacted me first, it would mean more.

  After flicking through the channels for the fourth time, I settled on an ancient movie, Ghost, more for the hilarious fashions than the story. That was when my phone vibrated on the coffee table. I stared at the message symbol with ‘Sas’ beneath it.

  I took a deep breath and reached for the phone.

  ‘Hey. What’s goin on? S xo’

  My thumb twitched against the side of my phone before I replied.

  ‘Watching Ghost. Check out the overalls!’ I waited before pressing send.

  Sas’s reply was fast.

  ‘Can u come over?’

  ‘Sure. What’s up?’

  ‘Nothing, just hanging. Stay over.’

  Sas wanted to hang out with me again. ‘Catch you in 15.’

  In the kitchen, I snatched up the home phone and dialled Dad’s mobile.

  ‘Ruby, what’s wrong?’ he whispered. I could hear movement and knew he was leaving the hall. In the background I could hear that terrible Rusty Holden Ute Christmas song. Why did teachers think that was cute? I shuddered.

  ‘Ruby?’

  ‘I’m going to Sas’s place, Stuart.’

  The Rusty Holden Ute had faded to a buzz. Dad cleared his throat. ‘I thought you were ill.’

  ‘I am, but it’s not catching. Anyway, I don’t feel like being alone.’

  I could almost hear Dad’s brain grinding as he thought. ‘Ruby, if you’re up to anything, I swear…’

  ‘Well it’s not like you can do anything about it, is there, Stuart, unless you’ve—’

  ‘Don’t you dare call me Stuart,’ he hissed. ‘I am your father.’

  I scoffed. ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Ruby—’

  ‘So, I’ll be back tomorrow.’

  ‘Your mother…’

  ‘Mum has been nagging me to call my friends all week. She’ll be happy.

  ‘Do I have a say?’

  ‘Nope. Just telling you.’ I hung up and sprinted upstairs to pack.