silence. ‘Tell them about that kid. The one from the running team.’
I roll my eyes at him. ‘They don’t want to hear
about that.’
‘Sure they do.’
‘Yeah, yeah,’ says Isabelle, getting in on the
action. ‘Tell us Abby.’
I sigh. I was hoping to avoid having to talk
about Paul Beckett. He’s already in my mind a lot, and I don’t like it.
I clear my throat. ‘Well. He’s got a crush on
me, that’s all.’
‘One of your students has a crush on you? How do
you know?’ asks Kim.
‘He’s always staring at her,’ says Luke. ‘Isn’t
he Abby? Wherever she goes, there he is. Staring, and smiling.’
Bill leans in on both elbows and the dining
table creaks under his weight. ‘What’s this kid’s name?’
‘Paul Beckett.’
Across the table James is rummaging in the
pocket of his jeans. ‘I know him,’ he says, popping a piece of gum in his mouth
and chewing as he speaks. ‘Seen him round the skate park a few times.’
‘The skate park? What’s that?’
‘It’s over near your school, so I don’t go there
often. It’s just this place with a skate ramp and basketball court. Pretty
desolate really. Not sure why they all reckon it’s fantastic.’
‘Paul Beckett. I know that name, don’t I J?’
Isabelle’s forehead is burrowed as she tries to place the name. ‘Yeah. Yeah. I
think Stacey knows him from primary school. Yeah. He’s the one who had that big
bust up with Nicholas McFadden last year. That’s right isn’t it J?’
James nods. ‘Yeah, I think so. Got his arse
kicked, apparently.’
Kim tuts again. ‘Revealing themselves to the
teachers. Fighting with each other. What’s gotten into these kids?’
Bill and Luke both start in on today’s society,
the highs and lows of modern existence. But I drown them out. I’m picturing
Paul Beckett getting beaten up and I feel a tightness in my chest. I know this
feeling. What is it? Pity? Concern? No. More than that; sympathy. As I sit here
trying to comprehend why this particular student, this kid I’ve known for only
a matter of weeks, could evoke such a strong emotion in me Luke reaches over
and places his hand on my knee.
Seven
After school I race to get changed so I can grab
a smoke before our running session. I’ve still been picturing Mrs Fox in my
mind a lot. Every time it’s the same image; she’s standing before me, and she’s
stripping. It’s awesome. A sexy film clip playing out in my own head. I can
daydream and she’s there. I can close my eyes and whoo! There she is again.
Bloody spectacular.
I hurry to the bottom oval and duck in behind
the thick line of trees that make up the school boundary. I’ve always liked
this spot for smoking. I remember when I found it. I was in Year Ten and I’d
been smoking for about a month or something. I was still working out the best
way to sneak one at school when I heard a couple of girls whispering in the
canteen queue. According to the girls there was an excellent make out spot just
beyond the bottom oval. The teachers never went there, and you couldn’t see
anything from the main buildings. It was totally secluded.
I was as happy as Larry when I heard this. It
sure beat trying to sneak one in the toilets with all the smoke detectors
everywhere. I did set off a detector one time. It brought only one teacher
running, old frogs legs, Mr Freggells, and I was left with one choice; admit to
it, or blame the unsuspecting Year Sevens that were hanging round the dunny
door. I’m not entirely sure, but I think they got off with a warning.
As for me, I wasn’t willing to risk it so I’d
steered clear of the toilets after that. It meant I usually had to hang out until
after school and by that time I was about ready to drop dead from the cravings.
So behind the trees on the bottom oval became my favourite haunt. A few times I
had to share it with one frisky couple or another but usually, I’d say ninety
percent of the time, I had the spot all to myself. And
I roll my eyes at him. ‘They don’t want to hear
about that.’
‘Sure they do.’
‘Yeah, yeah,’ says Isabelle, getting in on the
action. ‘Tell us Abby.’
I sigh. I was hoping to avoid having to talk
about Paul Beckett. He’s already in my mind a lot, and I don’t like it.
I clear my throat. ‘Well. He’s got a crush on
me, that’s all.’
‘One of your students has a crush on you? How do
you know?’ asks Kim.
‘He’s always staring at her,’ says Luke. ‘Isn’t
he Abby? Wherever she goes, there he is. Staring, and smiling.’
Bill leans in on both elbows and the dining
table creaks under his weight. ‘What’s this kid’s name?’
‘Paul Beckett.’
Across the table James is rummaging in the
pocket of his jeans. ‘I know him,’ he says, popping a piece of gum in his mouth
and chewing as he speaks. ‘Seen him round the skate park a few times.’
‘The skate park? What’s that?’
‘It’s over near your school, so I don’t go there
often. It’s just this place with a skate ramp and basketball court. Pretty
desolate really. Not sure why they all reckon it’s fantastic.’
‘Paul Beckett. I know that name, don’t I J?’
Isabelle’s forehead is burrowed as she tries to place the name. ‘Yeah. Yeah. I
think Stacey knows him from primary school. Yeah. He’s the one who had that big
bust up with Nicholas McFadden last year. That’s right isn’t it J?’
James nods. ‘Yeah, I think so. Got his arse
kicked, apparently.’
Kim tuts again. ‘Revealing themselves to the
teachers. Fighting with each other. What’s gotten into these kids?’
Bill and Luke both start in on today’s society,
the highs and lows of modern existence. But I drown them out. I’m picturing
Paul Beckett getting beaten up and I feel a tightness in my chest. I know this
feeling. What is it? Pity? Concern? No. More than that; sympathy. As I sit here
trying to comprehend why this particular student, this kid I’ve known for only
a matter of weeks, could evoke such a strong emotion in me Luke reaches over
and places his hand on my knee.
Seven
After school I race to get changed so I can grab
a smoke before our running session. I’ve still been picturing Mrs Fox in my
mind a lot. Every time it’s the same image; she’s standing before me, and she’s
stripping. It’s awesome. A sexy film clip playing out in my own head. I can
daydream and she’s there. I can close my eyes and whoo! There she is again.
Bloody spectacular.
I hurry to the bottom oval and duck in behind
the thick line of trees that make up the school boundary. I’ve always liked
this spot for smoking. I remember when I found it. I was in Year Ten and I’d
been smoking for about a month or something. I was still working out the best
way to sneak one at school when I heard a couple of girls whispering in the
canteen queue. According to the girls there was an excellent make out spot just
beyond the bottom oval. The teachers never went there, and you couldn’t see
anything from the main buildings. It was totally secluded.
I was as happy as Larry when I heard this. It
sure beat trying to sneak one in the toilets with all the smoke detectors
everywhere. I did set off a detector one time. It brought only one teacher
running, old frogs legs, Mr Freggells, and I was left with one choice; admit to
it, or blame the unsuspecting Year Sevens that were hanging round the dunny
door. I’m not entirely sure, but I think they got off with a warning.
As for me, I wasn’t willing to risk it so I’d
steered clear of the toilets after that. It meant I usually had to hang out until
after school and by that time I was about ready to drop dead from the cravings.
So behind the trees on the bottom oval became my favourite haunt. A few times I
had to share it with one frisky couple or another but usually, I’d say ninety
percent of the time, I had the spot all to myself. And
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