You Don't Even Know Read online

  Talk about puzzle pieces tumbling into place.

  From what Dad and Wortho said, Simon the Hymen could only be my year coordinator, Simon De Jong.

  What sort of loser ends up a teacher at his old school? The same kind who sends his kids to his old school, I guess.

  At least now I knew why De Jong hated me.

  When I reached English class, Mr Anderson was writing on the white board, bum jiggling. He was too engrossed in what he was writing to notice me.

  The new kid Bash and Coop had talked about sat at a front table in the middle row, hands either side of his pens, ruler, textbook and folder.

  Coop and Bash were up the back with Amado and Zane. Amado was a legend, ask him and he’d tell you so himself. I wasn’t a big fan. Sure Amado was a gun athlete and great at any sport he tried, but he wasn’t someone I wanted to hang out with. Coop and Bash used to feel the same way, but since footy started, they spent way more time with Amado and Zane. “Sit with us, Huddo,” called Amado. Dad and Ethan’s nickname again. The skin on the back of my neck felt icy. I dumped my stuff on the empty desk nearest the door.

  “Suit yourself,” said Amado with a shrug. He turned his attention to the new kid. “Hey, boat boy. Where’d you drift in from?”

  The new kid twisted to face him. “I arrived by aeroplane actually.” His voice was crisp and his English better than mine.

  Amado leaned back, knees jiggling either side of the desk. “Is that right, reffo?”

  “Right, boys.” Anderson stopped writing. “These chapter questions are to be finished by the end of class.”

  Groans scuttled around the room.

  “Thought that might take the sting out of you.” Anderson waddled to his desk. “I have marking and don’t wish to be disturbed.”

  7

  NEUROSURGERY HIGH DEPENDENCY UNIT, PRINCE WILLIAM HOSPITAL

  Celie’s walk is brisk as she enters the high dependency room, pulling a trolley laden with cleaning equipment behind her. Her rubber soles make no sound on the vinyl.

  “Good morning. It’s good day,” she says, opening the curtains. She surveys the sky and city before her. “Beautiful. Such sunshine. No cloud. Good day,” she adds, nodding. “How you doing?” She speaks as though the unconscious figures in the beds are as bright and fresh as the day outside. “Look the mess in the sink.” She shakes her head, sprays and wipes. “No good.”

  Celie weaves her cleaning cloth between the flower arrangements on the boy’s bedside cabinet. Lilies, orchids, roses and flowers Celie can’t name. Beautiful. Cards hang from the metal bar over the boy’s bandaged head, so she doesn’t bother cleaning there.

  She wipes the overbed table at the foot of the boy’s bed and moves to the other side of the room to the next bed. She wipes the bare table, cabinet and floor with vigour. At the shelf, Celie lifts the coffee jar filled with drooping gerberas. Petals drop to the floor. She tuts and scoops them up.

  Celie pats the lump that is the girl’s foot. “Where’s your family, eh? Your friends?” With a sigh, Celie moves to clean around the next patient. “See you after.”

  8

  ALEX

  After English, I decided to ditch study and hang out in the locker room. Coop and Bash sitting with Amado again and calling me Huddo had bugged me. I tossed a tennis ball at the lockers. The ball whomped on the carpet and smacked against the metal lockers, again and again.

  A shadow passed over my legs. I looked up. De Jong stood over me, hands on his hips. I fumbled the ball, which rolled to a stop against De Jong’s polished shoes.

  His gaze glided over me, sleek as a shark and as ready to attack. “Care to explain, Mr Hudson?”

  I kept my eyes on the locker ahead of me. “I have a headache, sir.”

  “So instead of seeing Matron for a painkiller, you came to the locker room?”

  “Don’t like taking drugs, sir.”

  “I’ll have that in writing for future reference, Hudson.”

  De Jong picked up my ball and tossed it from hand to hand. He cruised around the room. The image of a shark swimming around its prey in an ever-shrinking circle flickered through my mind.

  De Jong stopped in front of me and smiled. His teeth were small and yellowing. “There’s no headache, is there, Hudson?”

  “I … well …” Clearly ditching for the locker room wasn’t my smartest move. “I needed …”

  With a flick of his tail, the shark attacked. “Hudson, if you are going to lie, at least make it believable,” he sneered. “I wonder how your father will react when I tell him his son displays aggressive behaviour towards others and skips classes?”

  “What?”

  “Daniel Peterson, the year seven boy you sent sprawling this morning.”

  I pressed my thumbs into my thighs. “Oh, come on, sir.”

  De Jong’s eyes sparkled. “I wouldn’t like to be you when you get home, Hudson.”

  My stomach plummeted.

  “Which, will be in about …” He flicked his wrist to read his watch. “Fifteen minutes.”

  “What?”

  “You’re suspended for the rest of the day.”

  Red-hot anger raged through me. “For ditching study?”

  “For that and bullying younger students.” De Jong folded his arms. “I’ll email you school work to complete at home and return, signed, by both parents, first thing tomorrow.” He straightened his tie. “Pack your belongings and leave.”

  Ears ringing, I shoved my books in my schoolbag.

  I was sitting on a yellow chair, sipping invisible blossom tea from a plastic cup, the fairy-wing elastic digging into my shoulders, when Dad burst into the rumpus room. Mia, dressed in a Snow White dress, Batman mask and cowboy belt and holster, looked up at him and smiled. “Daddy, be a fairy like Alex.”

  “Alex seems to be handling the fairy thing well, Poss.”

  For the first time I noticed how small the chair was beneath me and how much my knees towered over Mia’s table.

  “So if we can’t tempt you with blossom tea, how about strawberry sausages?” I nodded at the wooden blocks arranged on the plate between Mia and me.

  “Don’t be bloody ridiculous.” His phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it out, poked the screen a few times and swore.

  “Daddy,” said Mia, shaking her head. “You’re squaring.”

  Mum and Dad corrected Mia every time she said square instead of swear, but I kind of liked it.

  Not even Mia’s serious voice softened Dad. “All hell has broken loose at work, and what do I have to deal with, Alex?”

  “Clearly not strawberry sausages or the agony that is fairy wings,” I said, adjusting the elastic straps.

  “Cut the bullshit.” Dad’s voice was a clap of thunder.

  Mia jumped, knocking her teacup from the table. It fell to the floor, rolled on its side and stopped near my foot.

  “Is it true what that idiot De Jong said? That you roughed up a younger boy?”

  Mia bit her bottom lip.

  “Dad, can we do this in the kitchen? Or my room?”

  “Do this? There is nothing to do. The crap stops now. Understand?”

  “But Dad, the thing is–”

  “There is no ‘thing’, Alex. I am sick of your attitude, full stop.” He looked up from his phone. “Pull your bloody head in, okay?” Dad shook his head. “Why the hell can’t you be more like Ethan?” He kissed the top of Mia’s head and stalked from the room.

  As I kicked the plastic cup, my knee smashed into the table, scattering the teapot, plates, pretend sausages and cakes to the floor.

  Mia stood, hands on her hips. “Pull your bloody head in, Alex,” she yelled, her tone the same as Dad’s.

  9

  NEUROSURGERY HIGH DEPENDENCY UNIT, PRINCE WILLIAM HOSPITAL

  “Will he die?” Harvey’s voice. “Will he, Mum?”

  “Ethan, take Harvey downstairs for a milkshake.”

  Footsteps, then silence.

  “First Mia, now thi
s.” Mum’s voice floats around me in a haze. I want to open my eyes, but they’re concrete slabs. Something makes me try harder. Two slats of light sear my brain.

  Dad speaks. “If it wasn’t for him–”

  The weight is too much. My eyes slam shut, and I drift away on a tuft of cottonwool towards the blue.

  10

  ALEX

  The blue wall of the cinema came into view as Tilly and I rounded the corner, hand in hand. Tilly and I had been together since before Easter. I’d first noticed her at the rec centre lifeguard course after Christmas, but according to Tilly, we’d caught the same tram to and from school since year seven.

  The only reason I did the lifeguard course was because Mum and Dad had nagged me to find a part-time job. Takeaway joints and supermarkets didn’t do it for me, so I decided to ask at the Eastern Recreation Centre, where I spent about five days a week anyway, either cutting laps, training or playing water polo.

  Dad didn’t get why I wanted to work there, but that was no surprise because he didn’t get why I swam there when we had a pool at home.

  Basically I didn’t cut laps at home because:

  a) Our pool was only fifteen metres long, which meant a lap was about three strokes. Stroke, stroke, stroke turn, stroke, stroke, stroke turn was not exactly a great work out.

  b) There was less chance of Dad criticising my technique – even though he could barely dog paddle – if I swam at the rec centre.

  Anyway, despite Dad ranting, pacing and listing reasons why it was a stupid job, I applied at the rec centre.

  Working at the rec centre was the best. From the first shift I knew that I was meant to be a lifeguard, and not only on a part-time basis, but forever.

  And if that wasn’t cool enough, Tilly worked there too as a lifeguard and swim instructor. Not that I knew who she was until we did the lifeguard course that all the new guys had to do. The first thing I noticed about Tilly was how she flicked her fringe from her forehead and screwed up her nose when she was concentrating. Then I noticed her legs – her calves to be exact. So smooth and brown in those shorts.

  It took me forever to actually talk to her. Anytime she glanced my way, I twitched and jerked like I was having a fit. Anytime I did try to speak, my tongue slid down my throat and choked me.

  Impressive stuff.

  After we finished a late shift, she asked me to walk her to the tram stop. Somehow walking side by side made talking easy. We always talked more when we were walking, like on the way to the cinema.

  “There’s Bash,” said Tilly. “Leaning against the power pole, talking to Coop.”

  “Got them,” I said. The girl Coop had been crapping on about for the last month, Isla someone, stood next to him. Tilly and Isla both went to Eastern Girls Grammar, which was up the road from St James.

  “Are Coop and Isla going out?” asked Tilly.

  “Probably one of the things I missed Friday.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I was supposed to ditch school on Friday with Bash, Coop and Amado, but Mum asked me to walk Mia to day care before school and then home afterwards. She had some breakfast meeting and a beautician appointment or something.”

  “Oi, Hudson.” Bash followed his greeting with a couple of gestures that normally wouldn’t worry me, but because I was with Tilly, my stomach squirmed.

  Bash and Coop strolled towards us, leaving Isla by the power pole.

  Tilly shook her head. “I’m going to talk to Isla.”

  “Thought you’d ditched us. Again,” said Bash.

  “I’m here, aren’t I?”

  “What happened Friday?”

  “Yeah, sorry about that. Stuff to do.”

  Coop raised his eyebrows. “You weren’t at the footy yesterday either.”

  “I told you. Full day water polo training with Benny and dudes from the Australian team.”

  Bash shot Coop a look I couldn’t read.

  “So, anyway, Coop. You and Isla?”

  “Old news, Hudson. Old news.”

  “Friday or Saturday?” I asked.

  “Yesterday. Missed half of the senior match so he could watch her play netball,” said Bash. “On the up side – those lycra uniforms!”

  “How was Friday?” I blurted to stop Bash giving me a rundown of every netball players’ breast size.

  Coop grinned. “Epic.”

  “You missed out, dude,” said Bash.

  “You’re missing out on heaps lately.” Coop stood in front of me, hands on his hips. “What gives?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Yeah, right.” Bash rolled his eyes. “We doing this?”

  “Indeed.” Coop called to Tilly and Isla. “Ladies, shall we?”

  Bash, Coop and Isla were behind Tilly and me in the ticket queue.

  “Amado says Blood Camp’s the one to see,” said Coop, over my shoulder.

  “That film is sick.” Tilly folded her arms.

  “That’s what I heard.” I knew Coop deliberately misunderstood her. “When did you see it?”

  “I haven’t. I just read reviews.” Tilly shuddered. “Too much blood and violence.”

  “Sucks to be you then, because that’s what we’re seeing.”

  Tilly glanced at me. “Watch what you want.” Only her face said the complete opposite.

  “Are you buying or what?” asked the bland-faced girl behind the counter.

  I opened my wallet.

  Tilly stepped in front of me and placed twenty dollars on the counter. “One for September Afternoon, thanks.”

  “Gaaaay,” hooted Bash, shoving my shoulder. “Here, buy mine, Alex.” He thrust money at me.

  “Next.” Even the ticket seller’s voice was bland.

  “Yeah, yeah,” I snapped.

  “Don’t be a pussy, Huddo,” leered Bash.

  Tilly pressed her lips together.

  I’d promised she could pick the movie. I took a breath. “Another one to that September thing, and one for Blood Camp.”

  “What?” groaned Bash.

  “September Afternoon for me too please,” said Isla, brushing past Bash and Coop.

  “You soft cock. Now look what’s happened.” Coop shook his head at Bash. “Told you.”

  “I need to go to the toilet,” said Isla, slipping her ticket into her pocket.

  “I’ll come.” Tilly handed me money. “Could you buy me a diet drink and red frogs, please?”

  Before I took a step to the food outlet, Coop started. “What’s the deal?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “First Friday, then the footy.”

  “I told you, I had stuff to do Friday and yesterday I had training at the rec centre.”

  Bash scoffed. “Training my arse. Catchy in the water.”

  Catchy in the water. One of Ethan’s names for water polo.

  “And now this crap.” Coop’s nose curled.

  “By ‘this crap’ you mean going with Tilly’s choice of movie, right? Yeah, well, sorry about that, but I promised she could choose.”

  “Now I get what Ethan means.” Coop snarled.

  “What did Ethan say?” And right away, I regretted asking because nothing Ethan said about me was good.

  “Huddo reckons you don’t get what it means to be part of a team. Loyalty, courage and commitment. The important stuff.”

  Heat charged through me. “Since when have you guys listened to Ethan?”

  Bash shrugged. “Since he’s vice captain of the senior footy team.”

  I shifted my weight from one leg to the other. “So let me get this straight. Because I don’t row or chase a footy around in the mud like you guys, I don’t understand loyalty, courage and commitment?”

  Coop folded his arms. “Yup.”

  “That is stuffed!” Tilly and Isla strolled towards us. “I’m going to buy a drink.”

  As I brushed past Bash, he sneered, “Don’t forget the red frogs.”

  From the moment Tilly and I sat in the cinema, I’
d been so absorbed in what I would say to Ethan, that I didn’t pay attention to the movie or to Tilly, which made her crack it and take off with Isla as soon as the film finished. I caught the tram home alone.

  When I arrived, I stomped through the foyer to the family room.

  “Where’s Ethan?” I snapped at Harvey.

  Harvey didn’t look up from the game he was playing. “Studying. But I betchya he’s messaging Ginny or something. Wanna play?”

  I ignored him, climbed the stairs two at a time and pushed open Ethan’s door. Harvey was right. He was lying on the bed, laptop open, messaging Ginny.

  He closed the laptop lid. “Bloody well knock before you come in here.”

  “Bloody well stay away from my friends then,” I yelled from the doorway.

  The surprise on Ethan’s face morphed into a smirk. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Don’t shit me.” I stepped inside his room. “Coop and Bash are my friends. Stay away from them.”

  “Friends? What do you know about friends?”

  “Think of that all by yourself or did Dad give you that one as well?”

  “I have my own opinions.”

  “Bullshit. You repeat everything Dad says because you’re too dumb to think for yourself. Even the crap you said to Bash and Coop was Dad’s stuff. Grow a brain.”

  He pushed his laptop aside and was chest to chest with me in a second. “You wish you were like Dad and me.”

  Mia’s voice echoed through the house. “Muuuuum! Ethan and Alex are fiiiiigggghting.”

  He pushed my shoulder.

  I poked his chest. “Don’t touch me.”

  He raised his fist.

  “What is the yelling about?” asked Mum, brown eyes staring out from behind a mask of green goo covering her face.

  “He’s been talking crap about me to my friends.”

  “Easy when you are a piece of crap.”

  “Stop it, both of you,” yelled Mum. The goo around her mouth cracked. “Alex, go tidy your room.”

  “But, Mum.”

  “I can’t be bothered with this, Alex. Go. And Ethan, for God’s sake do some study. You have a SAC tomorrow.”