The Summer of Kicks

by Dave Hackett

  ‘OK,’ she says, smiling. ‘What else have you got?’

  ‘Oh, OK,’ I say. ‘This trowel.’ I hold it up to her. ‘This is because … I totally dig you.’

  Ellie laughs. ‘Funny,’ she says. ‘And the twirly thing? What’s the story there?’

  ‘Ah,’ I say. ‘You’ll notice that this piece of plasticky goodness bears all the colours of the rainbow – red, orange, yellow …’

  ‘Yes, I know my colours.’

  ‘Well, before I asked you to coffee, it was a bit like I was only half seeing things that were right in front of me. And by things, I kind of mean you.’

  The look on Ellie’s face tells me that my point hasn’t quite hit the mark. ‘You know that scene in The Wizard of Oz, where Dorothy first lands in Munchkinland and suddenly the world’s not black and white anymore?’

  ‘Yes?’

  I hold up my twirly prop again. ‘That day for me was exactly like that moment,’ I say. I put my prop down and look into her eyes. ‘Everything is more colourful because of you.’

  ‘Smooth,’ she says. ‘Very smooth. But do you think you’ve fully redeemed yourself with your impressive product presentation?’

  ‘I’m kinda hoping so,’ I say. ‘But seriously, I promise I’ll get you something tomorrow. No, wait – tomorrow’s Christmas. When are the shops open again?’

  ‘There’s no rush,’ she says.

  Ellie’s looking into my eyes and I feel like there’s nowhere else I belong.

  ‘Take all the time you need, you skinny little dork.’ She takes my face in her hands and brings herself towards me. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’

  And just as the overwhelming colour of Munchkinland was a total contrast to bland old Kansas, this kiss, as we stand on Ellie’s front porch on Christmas Eve, this kiss bears no resemblance at all to the clumsily awkward mouthcapades of last Saturday night.

  ‘Well, we’re certainly not in Kansas anymore.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  And I could try to explain. I could tell her that our first kiss was the reason that everything turned to crap, at least for me, but I let it be and move in for another kiss. It’s nearly Christmas and although I didn’t make an actual list, I feel like right now I have everything that would have been on it.

  ‘I should be going,’ I say. ‘Stockings to hang, chestnuts to roast.’

  ‘Me too,’ Ellie says. ‘There’s a mouse inside that could use a good stirring.’

  I descend the three wide steps and at the end of the loose gravel path, I reach an arm over the gate, find the latch and let myself out. I turn back, offering just a slight wave, knowing that it’s enough. The air is warm against my face as it touches my cheeks and flicks at my hair. I’m in no hurry, but I’m stepping quickly. I feel like I could walk for days. My feet keep their beat against the concrete, one after the other. My new shoes, the grey Converse high-tops, are literally a blank canvas, but they’ll soon tell a new story. Documenting a fresh chapter is just a few pen-strokes away.

  So what is it about these shoes? Gym junkies, joggers, sportspeople the world over – they can have their Nikes, and Adidas, their Reeboks and Pumas. Sure, they’re great for running in – wear them with jeans, though, and you look like a tool. But these new shoes that are hugging my feet, not bunchy, but the right size, they don’t claim to have a scientifically formulated ergonomic upper. No arch support or padding or wanky fad soles. They don’t pull any punches or hide any secrets. They are what they are. Nothing fancy. Just a simple pair of kicks. A comfortable shoe that moves with you, that already fits you before you try it on. There’s no need to take it for a spin around the block or wear it for a week to break it in. It already works. It’s cool because it unashamedly is what it is. No apologies. It’s not the greatest running shoe in the world. You can’t ballroom dance in it. It doesn’t offer a pinch of crap’s worth of protection if you drop a bag of hammers on your foot. Truth is, these shoes have their shortcomings. As does everybody. But at the end of the day, they’re still one hell of a pair of shoes and people continue to celebrate them for what they are, not what they aren’t. The bottom line? Who we are is who we are. And me, right now, I wouldn’t want to be anyone else.

  Acknowledgements

  Firstly, I’d like to thank my teenage self for remembering just how it felt to be an infatuated dork, and for reminding me that sometimes the most worthwhile girls will rank skinny, funny and intelligent guys even higher than those with six packs.

  The hugest gratitude must go to the lovely Kristina Schulz, for inviting me into the UQP fold and for seeing enough life in Starrphyre’s first chapter to allow me to share the rest of his story.

  To Michele Perry and Jody Lee for diving deeply into my drafts and offering big meaty suggestions to squeeze the best out of me.

  Thanks to Julian Mole, Lisa Eady and Ann Wilson for their work at Post Pre-press.

  To John Danalis, who first encouraged me to tackle a ‘bromance’ (thanks JD!). To Steph Bennett for lending her eyes to early chapters, to the amazing Cath for her unparalleled wisdom, advice and awesomeness, and to Finn, who continued to give great feedback at each early turn in the story.

  Thanks as always to three and four o’clock in the morning – my sanctuary, my cocoon of creativity.Together we always make such beautiful music (and we’ll meet again next time around, I promise).

  Thanks to all the makers of music – the artists and writers, the tellers of stories who have created the soundtrack to millions of lives

  And last of all, to the wonderful beast that is coffee. I couldn’t have done this without you.

  First published 2014 by University of Queensland Press

  PO Box 6042, St Lucia, Queensland 4067 Australia

  www.uqp.com.au

  uqp@uqp.uq.edu.au

  © Dave Hackett 2014

  This book is copyright. Except for private study, research,

  criticism or reviews, as permitted under the Copyright Act,

  no part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system,

  or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior

  written permission. Enquiries should be made to the publisher.

  Cover design by Jo Hunt

  Cover illustrations by Shutterstock, iStock

  Typeset in 11.5/14.5 pt Electra LH Regular by Post Pre-press Group, Brisbane

  Printed in Australia by McPherson’s Printing Group

  Cataloguing-in-Publication Data

  National Library of Australia

  Hackett, Dave, 1970- author.

  The summer of kicks / Dave Hackett.

  For young adults.

  Young adult fiction.

  ISBN 978 0 7022 5336 2 (pbk)

  ISBN 978 0 7022 5452 9 (pdf)

  ISBN 978 0 7022 5453 6 (epub)

  ISBN 978 0 7022 5454 3 (kindle)

  A823.4

  University of Queensland Press uses papers that are natural, renewable and recyclable products made from wood grown in sustainable forests. The logging and manufacturing processes conform to the environmental regulations of the country of origin.