Chapter 25
(c) 2006

Following the holiday, school life quickly returned to normal. Brett and I argued a few times but nothing too serious. I figured SFB was getting to him again. However, he did admit that he enjoyed the holiday immensely, and would never forget the look on Graham's face during his first BJ. Actually, I told Melanie about it and she thought it was hilarious.

"You didn't tell Melanie about Rochelle, I hope."

"Hey, I'm not stupid."

One long weekend, we took the girls to a pub at Ballina, a town just south of Byron Bay. We played pool all night but went easy on the drinks. It took ages to hitch a lift home so Brett and Susan shared a joint by the roadside. I declined the offer of a puff. So did Melanie, probably to avoid a lecture from the Reverend Kyle. Hey, I had my principles and I stuck to them. No drugs.

We all bunked down at Susan's house. Melanie and I shared the guest room while Brett and Susan slept in her room. Mel and I were just getting into a serious love-making session when the door opened. "Don't panic," I told Mel. "My goodies are hiding yours."

"Sorry to butt--let me rephrase that--sorry to interrupt, mate, but do you have a spare condom? It's an emergency."

"The side pocket of my cargos."

A moment later I received a slap across my bare ass from Brett. "Thanks, mate," he laughed. "Hey, Melanie, you're looking hot, babe." His comment cracked both Mel and me and we burst into hysterical laughter. Goodbye erection.

Next morning, Brett cooked breakfast for all. "No point in asking you," he said to me. "Your gastronomical flair is limited to peanut butter sandwiches ... toasted if you're feeling extra creative."

With winter approaching, Brett resumed boxing training in earnest. "You're looking pretty damn buff," I commented as I arrived at the gym. He ignored me except for a grunt and continued to hit the bag. "And you look even better when you're all sweaty and punch the bag like you do."

"You gonna hold the bag for me or keep talking shit?"

Later that day, Brett caught a couple of lighties fighting. He let them off with a caution. Big mistake. Somebody reported Brett to a teacher. "You're a prefect, Brett. Your job is to spot trouble and book offenders. How do you think this school is supposed to maintain control over its students if you turn a blind eye? It's not your prerogative to be an adjudicator of such situations. That prerogative belongs to us, the teachers, not the prefects. Is that clear?"

"It was just a scuffle. No biggie. Kids fight all the time."

"And they will continue to fight as long as you allow them to. You should have booked them!"

"If you think you can do a better job take my badge."

"You're being insolent! I demand an apology this minute! Otherwise I'll report you to the headmaster."

"So go ahead and report me."

I waited at the school gate for Brett to arrive. "How did the meeting with the head go?" I asked as we walked home.

"You really don't know how to unglue yourself, do you? I got into an argument with the teacher in the presence of the head. I was totally pissed off that he made a fool of me in front of other students. Why couldn't the prick let me get on with the job? I knew what I was doing."

"What did the head say?"

"He was pretty cool, I guess, under the circumstances. He put me in charge of the work detail after school tomorrow. But I'm still pissed off."

"So why didn't you just hand in your badge?"


"You've been threatening to do it for ages."

"Hey, Kyle, all my life I've been a fuckup. Sometimes I think my folks broke up because of me. My mom was so chuffed when I got this badge it would really disappoint her if I gave it up."

"She'll support you, though."

"Yep, but she'd still be disappointed."

On Friday, we hit the Gold Coast and Purple Alien. Stuart went down like a sack of potatoes after his mates bought him a drink. We suspected it was laced with Rohypnol, the date rape drug. He was out cold.

I was too busy trying to help Stuart to notice Brett disappear. Then I saw a bunch of Stuart's mates headed for the toilets. I arrived on the scene to see Brett on the tiled floor, covered in blood.

"I saw one of bastards wearing a smartass grin so I followed him into the toilets. I asked him what he put in Stuart's drink. He laughed and told me to fuck off, so I gave him a few punches to the chin. As soon as he crumpled, I felt a blow to the back of my head. I went down. All I could do was cover my face to avoid the boots. Three or four guys were laying into me like they wanted to kill me."

"You look like you were involved with an axe murderer."

"Don't worry. It's superficial. Most of the blood came out of my mouth." Brett removed his shirt, which was drenched in blood, and tossed it into the used towel bin. "Let's go."

One of the guys at the club offered us a ride to Susan's place. Both girls were hysterical and on the verge of tears. Stuart was still non compos mentis.

I phoned Susan's place next morning and spoke to Brett. "Stuart puked a few times during the night be he's okay now, except for a huge headache."

"And you?"

"Hey, mate, I'm okay. Fat lip is all, and bruised ribs. Plus a never-ending lecture from Susan. In any case, I get beaten up like that all the time in boxing, so it's no biggie. I'm used to it. You and Mel okay?"

"Yeah. I walked her home but her folks were there, so I didn't stay over. Hey, I didn't even jack off last night. That's gotta be a first, huh? I couldn't stop thinking about all the shit that went down."

"Those assholes are gonna go down, mate. Fucking wombats. Hit from behind then split. That's their style. If you see them, tell them it ain't over, not by a bloody long shot."

"If I see them first, there'll be nothing left for you."

"See ya, mate."

"Pizza tonight?"

"We'll be there."

After pizza, the six of us (including the grommet and his grommetess) walked along the beach. "Can you imagine not living here?" I asked anyone who cared to listen. "I mean here, near the ocean. It's just so damn cool, like our own private playground."

"It's like two different places," Melanie commented. "One during the day with the sun and all the people, then another at night with the stars and the moon. Even the waves look different at night."

"That's the phosphorescence. It glows."

"Like the stuff they use in matches?" Graham asked.

"Kinda spooky, huh?"

"I think it's romantic," Susan said with a sigh. Her comment must've given Graham's girl a few ideas. When we got to her place, she and Graham played a game of tonsil hockey. I noticed her hand buried in his cargoes, while his were fondling her cute little breasts. It took an age for them to untangle.

"Seems you're getting there," I smiled as we continued on our way.

"You guys shouldn't have been looking."

"Yeah, you don't look at a plane crash."

By Monday, I'd caught a serious cold. Nevertheless, I attended school that day--a waste of time. I sneezed so much on the walk home with Brett, he became irritated. "Will you shut the hell up? It's like you're allergic to something."

"Yeah--your deo."

"If you weren't looking so damn crook I'd thump you."

I took the following two days off school, sick as a dog. Brett phoned after school Wednesday and heard my croaking. "You don't sound too good, mate."

"Being sick is the pits! Oh, mate, I never felt this crook. Ever! When I got home Monday I thought my damn head was gonna fall off."

"Could be an improvement."

"Yeah, right. Anyway, when I started my homework my nose ran like a damn tap, and still is. It's as tender as anything `cause of all the blowing. I gotta use toilet paper `cause I blow holes through the soft tissues."

"Spare me the details, Kyle."

"And I can't handle carrying a snot-filled cotton hanky in my pocket..."


"...'cause you always put your hand on the slimy bits when you take it out."

"SHUT UP! Anyway, I called in case you wanted me to rock around with the latest homework from school."

It was a buzz to see my mate again. We spent about two hours going through the homework. "You're in a wicked mood tonight, Brett."

"I am?"

"Yeah. You must be glad to see me."

"I think you're the one who's glad to see me, mate. Your leg's been rubbing mine all bloody night."

"I can't help it if I got a small desk. Anyway, I've been reading some cool books. I just finished Clive Cussler's The Serpent. And now I'm reading The Testament by John Grisham. I read The Brethren before that. Wicked story. You read it?"

"You don't seem the type to read books."

"Why not?"

"I dunno. You're too much of a damn rebel. And you're hardly ever outta the damn water!"

"They haven't invented waterproof books yet. Anyway, there's not much else to do when you've got the flu." Then I grinned and added; "I still got time to jack off, though."

"You got no damn shame, Kyle. No damn shame."

Brett was back again the following night with more homework plus an assignment that needed to be finished by the following Monday. He wore jeans and a loose fitting sweat top. "What the hell are you gawking at?"

Yeah, right. Like he needed to ask. "Nothing. It's just that you could wear a bloody sack and still look hot."

"Don't you ever think about anything else?"

"Not when you're around. You don't seem to realize that..."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Cut the crap. I guess you're grounded tomorrow night?"

"There's no way my folks will allow me out after time off school and not feeling hundreds."

"Yeah, I guessed that."

"So what are you guys gonna do?"

"Not sure. Maybe take Susan to a movie or something." Then Brett started laughing. I asked him what was so funny. "You and the relationship you have with your folks, man."

"What are you talking about?"

"Hey, I know a lotta guys who cock their folks and fuck off to where ever they want to go without their folks' okay."

"Yeah, well, maybe I'm just a wuss."

"That's not what I mean, Kyle. You have a good thing going with your folks. It's just that so many guys show no respect for their `rents, and don't give a shit whether they upset them or not. I think it's pretty cool that you give them an ear."

"You and your mom are cool, though."

"True, but she wouldn't give a shit if I went out every single night--even if I were sick and off school."

"Maybe she's worried about upsetting you--you and your bloody short fuse."

"Maybe. You seen Melanie?"

"Nope. She phones, though. I think she's horny. Maybe I should send Graham over there to take care of things while I'm crook."

"Jeez, Kyle," Brett laughed, "you treat it like a joke now but that little guy is gonna be 15 or 16 one of these days and he's gonna steal any girl you're with."

"Yeah, right."

"You don't believe it? He's good looking and you're ugly."

"That's why I hang with you. Two ugly guys together."

"That's spelled H-U-N-K-Y, mate. Me, that is. You should get a job as a circus clown, Kyle. They could save money on the red nose."

In fact, I had bronchitis that could have led to pneumonia according to the doc if not caught in time. Nonetheless, it was cool of Brett to rock over to my house every afternoon after school to help with my homework. One time I asked him why he didn't look like a nerd, with glasses and a skinny bod.


"I don't get it, Brett. Your school notes are always so bloody neat. And you breeze through exams like you got a photographic memory or something. Then you beat the crap outta me in the gym. And you get all sweaty. And your muscles..."

"Sometimes I wish I were a nerd. Then you wouldn't crap on so much about my bod. Anyway, what the hell have muscles got to do with brains? Who says you can't have both?"

"It's not fair, that's all. And stop grinning like a bloody Cheshire cat!"

"Hey, did I tell you I might have a job?"

"Doing what?"

"I talked to the guy who runs the pizzeria. He said he'll give me a couple of training sessions. If I can handle it, learn the menu and shit like that, he'll give me a part-time job as a waiter."

"Brett the pizza boy!"

"Piss off, Kyle."

"Hey, you'll be great! I can see you now: going up to a table and saying, "what kinda shit do you want on your fucking pizza, assholes?" I shouldn't have said that. I began alternating between laughing my tits off and coughing my lungs up. I reckon if I hadn't been so sick, Brett would have clobbered me.