It’ll have to wait until tomorrow. Hopefully, it won’t be bad news. Hopefully, she still wants to be my girlfriend. Lost in all my worries, I soon realise that I’m walking home alone. Bruce had served his purpose.
13
I was relieved that Mum and Dad didn’t go to town on me for getting beaten up. I mean, of course, it would be absurd for them to get mad at me , but somehow that’s what I’d expected. Instead, they were consoling and wanted to know what’d happened. For a while, I even liked Mum again. After she’d cleaned away the blood, she gently stroked my fringe away from my forehead and looked at me with a caring, sincere expression that almost broke my heart.
So I told Mum and Dad what had happened. How Brenton and his posse had surprised me after school, how they were looking for a fight, how Brenton is jealous as hell of my relationship with Rhonda. I didn’t tell them that I’d spoken back to him or about the specific comments he’d made. I wouldn’t feel comfortable telling my parents about that.
Oh, yeah, Mum and Dad, Brenton was telling me how he thinks I have a small dick. He was also asking whether or not I’d bonked the brains out of my girlfriend yet. He doubts that I have the capacity to have sex, given the size of my penis and he recommends I do it in the dark.
Dad wanted to contact Brenton’s family, but I pleaded with him to let it go. I said all sorts of things: I’d just get teased for involving my parents; these things happen between teenagers; situations like this are character building – if they didn’t happen, we’d grow up thinking the world was a beautiful place full of beautiful people. I finally convinced him.
In the morning, I study the damage to my face. Mum has placed a little strip of adhesive fabric on the cut near my eyebrow, which will have to stay there for about five days. It makes me look kind of cool, to be honest. I’m actually looking forward to going to school. I reckon Mandy O’Connor will find my wound irresistible. Ever since the school social, where she had her friend Susan slap me on the face, she’s been keeping her distance. But whenever I happen to see her, she’s looking at me. She stares at me with stony eyes, but I can tell she’s still hooked. The poor girl just can’t break the spell.
I’m waiting around on the veranda. It’s a few minutes before my first class is due to start. I receive several high-fives from the guys milling about.
‘Nice one, Stan!’
‘Yeah. You should see the other guy.’
Steve and Jeremy come up to me. ‘What happened, dude?’
‘It was nothing. Brenton decided he needed a punching bag.’
‘That arsehole! He’s not here today. I’ve seen his mates, though; they’re looking a bit nervous,’ Steve says.
‘I’m not surprised. It was three against one.’
‘Oh, the tough guy needed an advantage, huh? How piss weak!’ Jeremy shakes his head.
‘Well, you missed a kick-arse rehearsal last time, buddy,’ Steve says.
‘Really?’
‘Yeah, we were really productive. Somehow, through the haze of sweet smoke, we managed to write a new song,’ says Jeremy.
I raise my eyebrows at him and wonder whether the new tune is as good as they are implying or whether the Mary Jane being consumed at the time has influenced their judgement of the song. ‘Sounds good, you guys. We’ll definitely have to get together soon. I miss our rehearsals.’
Truth be told, I haven’t seen much of Steve, Jeremy or Mike since I’ve been going out with Rhonda. I’ve cancelled a couple of rehearsals with them, which makes me feel like a bad friend who’s let them down. It feels so good to be talking to them now, just like normal. For a bunch of pot-smoking scallywags, they’re damn good friends.
‘I like your little bandage, Stan. It makes you look tough.’
‘Thanks, Steve.’
They both high-five me and then head off to their first period of the day. As their distance from me lengthens, my dread grows.
13
I was relieved that Mum and Dad didn’t go to town on me for getting beaten up. I mean, of course, it would be absurd for them to get mad at me , but somehow that’s what I’d expected. Instead, they were consoling and wanted to know what’d happened. For a while, I even liked Mum again. After she’d cleaned away the blood, she gently stroked my fringe away from my forehead and looked at me with a caring, sincere expression that almost broke my heart.
So I told Mum and Dad what had happened. How Brenton and his posse had surprised me after school, how they were looking for a fight, how Brenton is jealous as hell of my relationship with Rhonda. I didn’t tell them that I’d spoken back to him or about the specific comments he’d made. I wouldn’t feel comfortable telling my parents about that.
Oh, yeah, Mum and Dad, Brenton was telling me how he thinks I have a small dick. He was also asking whether or not I’d bonked the brains out of my girlfriend yet. He doubts that I have the capacity to have sex, given the size of my penis and he recommends I do it in the dark.
Dad wanted to contact Brenton’s family, but I pleaded with him to let it go. I said all sorts of things: I’d just get teased for involving my parents; these things happen between teenagers; situations like this are character building – if they didn’t happen, we’d grow up thinking the world was a beautiful place full of beautiful people. I finally convinced him.
In the morning, I study the damage to my face. Mum has placed a little strip of adhesive fabric on the cut near my eyebrow, which will have to stay there for about five days. It makes me look kind of cool, to be honest. I’m actually looking forward to going to school. I reckon Mandy O’Connor will find my wound irresistible. Ever since the school social, where she had her friend Susan slap me on the face, she’s been keeping her distance. But whenever I happen to see her, she’s looking at me. She stares at me with stony eyes, but I can tell she’s still hooked. The poor girl just can’t break the spell.
I’m waiting around on the veranda. It’s a few minutes before my first class is due to start. I receive several high-fives from the guys milling about.
‘Nice one, Stan!’
‘Yeah. You should see the other guy.’
Steve and Jeremy come up to me. ‘What happened, dude?’
‘It was nothing. Brenton decided he needed a punching bag.’
‘That arsehole! He’s not here today. I’ve seen his mates, though; they’re looking a bit nervous,’ Steve says.
‘I’m not surprised. It was three against one.’
‘Oh, the tough guy needed an advantage, huh? How piss weak!’ Jeremy shakes his head.
‘Well, you missed a kick-arse rehearsal last time, buddy,’ Steve says.
‘Really?’
‘Yeah, we were really productive. Somehow, through the haze of sweet smoke, we managed to write a new song,’ says Jeremy.
I raise my eyebrows at him and wonder whether the new tune is as good as they are implying or whether the Mary Jane being consumed at the time has influenced their judgement of the song. ‘Sounds good, you guys. We’ll definitely have to get together soon. I miss our rehearsals.’
Truth be told, I haven’t seen much of Steve, Jeremy or Mike since I’ve been going out with Rhonda. I’ve cancelled a couple of rehearsals with them, which makes me feel like a bad friend who’s let them down. It feels so good to be talking to them now, just like normal. For a bunch of pot-smoking scallywags, they’re damn good friends.
‘I like your little bandage, Stan. It makes you look tough.’
‘Thanks, Steve.’
They both high-five me and then head off to their first period of the day. As their distance from me lengthens, my dread grows.
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