Green Room II
Chapter 34

I survived the first week of school without damage or attracting any shit, which was neat. Friday night I was scheduled to meet some school mates, so I asked Melanie if we could postpone our date `til Saturday.

Bob declined to join me and my mates because the guys were mostly ex-customers of his and mine. Besides, he had a date with his girl to dip his wick. We wanted him to be our designated driver because he didn't drink. Weird, huh? He sold all that shit to everyone else for years but didn't use it himself. He enjoyed the occasional drink, but never to excess. Ditto grass. He smoked a little just to mellow out.

But, all of a sudden, he was into this fitness thing, tripping on looks. I figure he turned my invite down because he was pissed at my connecting with my old customers.

Also had a call from Graham. How strange. The little bloke got himself into a pickle. A group of chicks sent him messages that one of their friends wanted Graham to screw her. They were all desperate to convince him to do the deed. And now, that girl had invited him to visit her place, supposedly to watch vids. The reason he called me? He wanted Melanie and me to accompany him.


"Just because, that's all. It's important."

"Scared she'll seduce you, huh?"

"Yes! Damn it, Stuart, I don't know what to do! And I'm not sure I wanna do it with her!"

"Maybe she just wants to blow you or something. Hahahahaha!"

"It's not bloody funny! And it's not just that, not just a BJ. She told her friends she wants me to screw her because she thinks I've done it before."

"You've got a big mouth."

"You gonna come with me or not?"

"Can't. Got a thing on with some mates tonight."

"Cool. I'll check to see if Joe wants to come with me."

"You gonna be okay?"

"Maybe I'll be sick or something. Cheers." He slammed down the phone.

So, G, you're thinking Melanie and I should have accompanied the grommet? Well, fact is, I needed Graham the other day when he was his moody grommet self and wasn't there for me. He preferred to play computer games with his mates, and told me I'd have to wank. Yeah, well, I didn't stay home and wank. I went out and got slaughtered instead, and snorted a couple of lines with a dickhead.

Anyway, I expect Graham to be okay. I don't see him porking this chick. I think his manhood will be seriously tested and he'll wuss out totally. Hahahaha! Sounded like a scared kid on the phone.

(Later). I managed to meet with Melanie on Saturday night, despite the after effects of too much of whatever I'd been on. I need to stop, G. I mean it. I'm not saying that just to make you feel good. I'm desperate.

One of the guys I was with on Friday had a syringe, and injected H. He offered it to me, but I said no. Didn't stop me from popping acid, though, and I suffered serious downers on Saturday. I was still fucked when I fetched Melanie. I hardly slept a wink and I feel like shit right now. The guys and I trashed ourselves with concoctions of acid and coke, and I can't even remember what booze.

Two of the guys pissed me off because they went on and on about faggots. Yeah, right. Then the guys blew each other to show everyone how gross it was. Hello? I accused them of acting like jerks and that maybe they were gay. I almost ended up in a fist fight.
I asked one prick, Charl, why he neglected to swallow his mate's cum, and what kind of mate was he. He pulled me up by the shirt, and flathanded me across the face, but not too hard because I would've climbed into him. Think I wouldn't?

Anyway, Melanie wasn't too happy with me when I showed up. We didn't go out because she couldn't handle the way I looked. Instead, we hung out at her place and spoke. She told me she couldn't handle the whole drug scene. It was then I discovered she'd been clean for months. Not so much as a joint. She currently attended counseling with a friend, but kept it secret from her folks.

"I can get you into the program if you want, Stuart. I go once a week. My folks think I'm at a friend's house doing homework."

So I thought about attending counseling sessions with her. The counselors were all ex-druggies, so they knew the drill. And the sessions were held at a private house--no flashing neons or whatever.

Brett phoned Sunday night and laid into me after he received a call from Melanie. She said he was the only person who might talk sense into me. "I'll give it to you straight, Stuart. You won't be welcome to visit Fremantle to see Fingers or me until you're clean. Got it?"
Brett reminded me of the time I snorted coke at his place with that dumb chick I met at a pub. Hey, he didn't scream at me, just spoke straight up. Later, I phoned Graham to ask what happened between him and that chick who lusted after him.

"What chick?"

"The one you told me about, the one who came onto you, the one who had her hand down your pants, the one who wanted to give you a BJ in front of your mate Joe."

"Can you narrow it down a bit?"

"Hahahaha! So what happened?"

"Joe came with me."

Graham confessed he panicked because he might have been coerced into screwing the chick. He was terrified of that possibility. Without the chick's knowledge, Joe sent an SMS to his folks to fetch him, which meant Graham didn't have to bail out on the chick's attempt to steal his cherry. His excuse was that Joe's folks were outside waiting for him. Hahahaha!

I didn't ask, but I wondered if Graham and Joe got it on together. Anyway, Graham promised to visit the chick's house the following week, and planned to round up a bunch of his mates to go with him. Hahahaha!

By the time I wrote G again, the weather in Byron had turned to total shit, with howling wind and rain. I surfed the previous afternoon and took off on particular wave. The wind gusted unexpectedly and blew my board off the lip, then back onto me! I was quick enough with my hands to avoid damage to my face. The afternoon wasn't all bad, but that freak accident pissed me off. There were only two other guys out, and it was freezing! Half-inch freezing if you know what I mean.

Melanie and I planned to date again that night, and I looked forward to it. Meanwhile, Graham was off to that chick's place again with all his mates in tow to protect him. Hahahaha! I didn't blame him. He visited earlier the previous day when I returned home from surfing. He told me he went for a piss in the chick's upstairs toilet and busted her younger sister giving a blow job to a little guy who was no more than 10 years old! The sister was about 12, and the parents were at a dinner party next door. Can you believe that, G?

"Sure, people go to dinner parties all the time."

Obviously, the girls were into sex big time. The older teens at the party were snorting. Graham said he was frightened by the whole scene, but also that he'd fallen for this girl-or so he reckons--probably because she had her hand in his pants the whole night. But he's also a little kid, G, if you know what I mean. I feel for the grommet.

I must tell you, G, that I sparred with my dad last night in the gym, and it was really, really cool. Okay, so we hit each other hard but we wore headgear. There's no way I'd spar with my dad without protective headgear, but he still managed to hit me like a sledgehammer in the gut.

He was the one, however, to lower his gloves first and say, "Enough's enough!" Hahahaha! Then he threw an arm around me and we headed for the shower. TWO SEPARATE SHOWERS, G.

Hey, G, I must come clean now. I want to be clean. I felt so damn good last night after I sparred with my dad, and I want to enjoy that feeling all the time. I'm sick and tired of being trashed, and I hope this counseling thing works for me. It's just that it's so incredibly difficult not to be tempted when there's coke or whatever going on around me. I can't stop myself.

The acid fucked my brain the other night, and I hallucinated badly. LSD is a new thing for me and I'm not sure how I got onto that track at all. It's not good, and I realize that. But try to convince my brain when there are guys around me popping. I know it's stupid, G, but you try quitting your tobacco and tell me how easy it is. I can't believe how fucked my life has become since Kyle died. I know it's my own fault, but still...

I mailed G again later and told him I wrote a story for his birthday, and that I wanted him to post it on his website on the day itself.

One reason I sometimes found it difficult to write G was because I could never figure out what to put in the subject line. "I can't figure what to put here." The surfing weather was stunning, almost a stunning as me in Speedos, hahahaha! Anyway, there wasn't a helluva lot to tell G except that I set aside Tuesday night for the counseling session with Melanie.

The previous Friday Graham visited his new `girlfriend's' house again, which was virtually a repeat of the earlier visit. His mates got involved in playing CDs and shit, and left Graham and the girl to graunch. I thought he'd broken up with his other girl, but it turned out that she got wind of his latest crusade via the grapevine. He hadn't spoken to his ex-ish yet, but he heard that she was aware of his new romance. So the little dude was in for some serious birdcrap, hahahahaha! He didn't tell me all the news, though. Most of the blabbing came from his mate Joe. Hey, I should have been an interrogator.

From what I gathered, Joe was pissed at Graham's obsession with this new bird. Joe expressed his displeasure when he and Graham went to the movies Saturday. They arrived early for a burger and chat. But Graham spent the whole time on the phone to his girl. One of her friends apparently had the hots for Joe, and wanted both Graham and Joe to visit the new girl's house that night. Graham was in a pickle because he promised his time to Joe. Ah, the trials and tribulations of grommethood. Is that a word? It is now. Anyway, at least Graham and I enjoyed great surf over the weekend.

Saturday I attended a barbeque at a mate's house. I was undecided at first, but relented. Smoked a joint but left the chemicals alone. Also drank too many vodkas. There were a few E tabs there as well, but the guys wanted to save them for clubbing later.

I didn't go clubbing with them. I was too far gone from the J and vodka anyway. Pissed off the mates a bit when I got a chance to graunch with one of the lone chicks. I passed out. They battled to wake me, then told me to piss off so they could get moving. Hahahaha!

Okay, G, it's Wednesday already. Last night? I'm not sure if I handled the counseling all that well. But don't sweat it because I'll go again next week. One chick there really worked on my tits about trying harder and how easy it was and blah, blah, blah. Bloody hell, I felt like getting stoned just to get away from her.

A few of the people there are like really weird, and all over you like a rash. Melanie was content to giggle and leave me to my fate. She also doesn't dig some of the people there. But there are a few okay ones.

They showed us some shock police pictures of teens who OD'd. A couple were pretty horrifying. One guy about 13 wore a tourniquet and still had a needle stuck in his arm. However, all the faces were blurred.

The woman who organizes the sessions is a Christian and is very cool. You feel no pressure from her at all. She supplies cookies and tea. Damn! No beer!

If Kyle were there he would have mentioned Natalie du Toit, the swimmer who did well in the Commonwealth Games in Manchester. She lost a leg but still competes with able swimmers, and still slices through the water. Kyle spoke of her often. He thought she was gutsy for simply getting on with life despite the handicap.