The Boys of Summer (16 page)

“Sorry, mate, did you want something?” Sean
pointed to the bar.

“Ah, no thanks.” Adam seemed edgy.

You know the old saying ‘two’s company,
three’s a crowd’? Well, the same applies for four’s company, five
is excruciatingly awkward.

If Adam hadn’t turned up, the day would have
probably ended with Ellie, Sean, Toby and I having drinks at the
Onslow, reliving the day’s events with further verbal sparring and
razzing. I wouldn’t feel ashamed by what I was wearing, and I most
certainly wouldn’t be sitting here in uncomfortable silence tracing
the condensation on my pot glass, trying to stem the tide of anger
at Adam that was building up inside me.

I had been so excited to see him. I had no
idea he was going to be home this soon, perhaps he hadn’t known
either, or maybe he’d wanted it to be a surprise. Oh, it was a
surprise alright, though it seemed more so for him.

I was itching to punch him in the ribs and
ask, “
what was that look for?
”, but while we sat with Toby
and Sean, I kept quiet.

Sean glanced awkwardly between us and started
up a conversation with Adam in an attempt to diffuse the tension.
He asked him how things were in the big smoke and how his arm was
healing.
Oh crap, his arm
. I snapped out of my daze.

“How is your arm?” I managed.

They both looked at me. Adam was about to
reply when Ellie cocked her head.

“What’s that scribed on your cast, some city
chick’s phone number?”

“Pfft, I wish.” He twisted his cast so it was
readable to us all. Scrawled on the inside arm of his cast in big,
black, permanent texta was:

You’re GROUNDED! Mum xox

“Kind of a buzz kill for the opposite sex,
don’t ya think?” He smiled.

I smiled to myself. Typical Adam.

Ellie shrugged. “I think casts are cute.”

“Hey, there’s Stan,” Sean said. We all
swiveled around and sure enough, there was Stan through the window
at the bar, talking to Chris. Ellie sat up straight; her expression
may have been one of disinterest, but her body language gave her
away entirely.

“So it is,” Ellie said. She pretended not to
care but, oh, she cared alright.

“It was nice of him to lend us his boat for
the day.” I subtly kicked Ellie under the table.

Adam picked at the frayed edge of a beer
coaster.

“Now there’s a man who burns easily.” Sean
took a swig of his beer and looked pointedly at Ellie. I didn’t get
it. Was he saying Stan got sunburnt easily or … I don’t know. Was
he being metaphorical and saying Stan was a sensitive soul who got
burned in love easily? Either way it was directed at Ellie, and by
the look on her face, she couldn’t decipher what he meant
either.

Matching my silence, (in fact trumping it),
Toby sat next to Adam, playing with his mobile, intently scowling
at the screen.

“What’s up, Tobias?” Sean said. “Trouble in
paradise?”

“Hmm? Oh … yeah, something like that,” Toby
said, climbing to his feet. “I’ll be back in a sec.” He walked off
without even looking up, only noticing Stan coming out with Chris
as he dodged them.

“What’s up with him?” Stan said with a
frown.

“Woman trouble.”

Stan and Chris groaned as they made
themselves at home on the picnic table bench.

A spike of jealousy ran through me as I
pictured Toby speaking to Angela on the phone at that exact moment.
She would ask him what he had been up to, and he would shrug and
say nothing, and that every waking moment without her was torture
and please come home soon. Okay, so maybe it wouldn’t be
exactly
like that, but my imagination was my nemesis so I
zoned out in a cloud of misery.

I caught Adam staring at me, that quizzical
frown back in place as he studied me. Seriously, what was his
problem today?

“So!” Stan began. “Seeing as though I busted
my rump today helping my old man, he agreed that we could have the
shed tonight for some extra-curricular festivities.” Stan addressed
us all, but his lasting gaze was on Ellie, checking her
reaction.

“Are you actually going to show up at this
event?” she said icily.

He tipped his drink to her. “Yes, ma’am.
Gonna crank up some tunes and dust off the old pool table.”

“Shweeeeet!” Sean sing-songed.

“Ladies?” Stan asked.

Ellie replied enthusiastically on our behalf,
but my inner conscience was thinking about what my mum and dad
would think about going to a twenty-two-year-old’s party until all
hours. I had been out all day and the details of my whereabouts had
already been sketchy at best. I hadn’t mentioned the Onslow Boys to
my parents; I didn’t think they’d understand. To them, boys (aside
from Adam) were all after one thing: to deflower daughters, get us
pregnant and ruin our lives. My parents had nothing to worry about
in that area. Seeing as though I was still most likely the last
living virgin in Onslow and surrounding regions, I was pretty
safe.

But I really wanted to go to this party.

After a while, my heart sank as I realised
Toby wasn’t returning to the table. I didn’t want it to end on such
an anti-climactic note. It had been the perfect day. I thought
dreamily about the way his hands had glided over my skin, how he
held my wrists with such gentle strength, or of when he placed his
hand against mine, smiling at the difference. He had been so
animated, so lively, more so than I had ever seen him. Maybe that
was the way he was with his mates? I rarely saw him uninhibited. I
doubt it was due to anything I did; sure, he gave me a look over
when he saw me in my bikini, but so had Sean. They were guys and
that’s what they do; it didn’t mean anything.

But Toby wasn’t like the other boys; he
seemed reserved, quiet and respectful – aside from throwing me
overboard, but I liked that side of him, his playful side. And then
I envisioned him throwing Angela overboard, and all of a sudden I
didn’t like that side to him nearly as much.

The Onslow Boys said their goodbyes and said
they would see us tonight.

“Hey, Ellie,” Stan said as the boys headed
towards the door, “can I talk to you for a sec?”

She sighed deeply, but I knew she was
secretly delighted.

This left me and Adam, who sat directly
opposite me, giving me a strained smile. Oh, no you don’t, I
thought; there was something underneath that facade that bothered
me, and I had to clear the air.

“Why do you keep looking at me like
that?”

“Like what?” His eyebrows shot up, like he
was genuinely surprised.

“As if there’s food on my face and it turns
your stomach.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to say a look of
disgust?”

“Is that what it is? I disgust you?” My voice
rose.

“Oh God, Tess, no … Jesus, keep your voice
down,” he said, glancing around. “No, that’s not it at all.” He
looked forlorn.

“Then what is it?” I demanded.

“It’s nothing, you’re just paranoid.”

“Don’t give me that, I know you well enough
to know every single one of your looks, and I have never seen that
one before, so spill.”

By now the coaster in Adam’s hands was
shredded into a million tiny pieces, and he was staring at his
little pile of cardboard when he offered a low, casual,
one-shouldered shrug.

“You look different, you seem different.”

I was taken aback, was he serious? I
straightened.

“I’m not!”

“Yeah, you’re right, okay, good, I’m getting
a drink.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I said, “back it up,
buddy, don’t think you can bail on this. What do you mean I’ve
changed? We’ve barely spoken to each other, how can you gather
that?” Had the city pollution warped his brain?

He brushed bits of coaster off his hands.

“Don’t mind me, I’m just tired. I only got
back this morning and I’m beat.”

“So, guess you won’t be going to the party,
then?”

He scoffed. “Party? You’re a real party goer
now,” he said sarcastically.

He was really starting to tick me off.

“Well, how’s about you go and take a nap and
wake up on the right side of the bed before you come and see me
again.” I got up to leave, but he followed me.

“Tess, come back, don’t be mad.”

I swung around to face him “Don’t! God, Adam,
this the first time I’ve seen you in ages and this is how you
act?”

He stared me down. Yeah, this wasn’t going
anywhere.

“You know, I was actually looking forward to
you coming home, but I didn’t think you would make me feel …” I
broke off looking out at the lake.

“Feel what?”

God, wouldn’t he take the hint and leave me
alone? I cut him a dark look.

“Make me feel bad about myself.”

His brows rose as if I had dished out a
physical blow.
Good
.

I turned, chin held high, and strode
away.

After the long, agonising walk home, I
shuffled my flip flops across my front lawn and thought to myself
how heat stroke can make you delirious.

I stood in the open doorway of the fridge,
basking in the coolness that poured over my overheated,
sweat-sheened skin. I greedily downed a bottle of water. It was a
good thing that Mum and Dad were out as I made my way to peel off
my bikini, ever grateful to be rid of it as I headed for the
shower.

I let the lukewarm cascade of delicious clean
water wash all the sand, sunscreen and sweat from my body. What a
disappointing, frustrating end to what had been such an amazing
day. Adam’s distance, Toby disappearing without so much as a “catch
ya later”. No, he had to leap to Angela’s beck and call. I was
grumpy and tired; maybe there was something to Adam’s claim of
fatigue making him act strange towards me.

But I wasn’t in the mood to make excuses for
him. I was now too busy trying to think of my own excuses, if I was
going to get to Stan’s party tonight. I sat on the edge of my bed,
the towel wrapped around me. I had darkened at least two shades
today, with a slight tinge of red that I hoped was my temperature
and anger and
not
sunburn. It was nearing on 6 o’clock, and
Mum and Dad would be home any minute. I was pretty beat. Did I even
feel like going to the party? Did I just want to crash and wallow?
You bet I did. I had dressed myself in my cut-offs and spaghetti
strap navy singlet when the phone rang.

“Where are you?” Ellie all but shouted down
the phone like a pissed-off parent.

I yawned. “Home.”

“I’m coming over.” The line went dead.

I groaned and flung myself back on the bed.
And so would begin an array of predictable events.

It would start with “What are you wearing? We
have to get our stories straight, what’s wrong with you? What do
you mean you’re not going? Of course you’re bloody well going!” and
so on until I gave in and just went to the party.

My head pounded already.

There was little time to corroborate stories
before my parents got home. I felt bad about the half-truths I was
feeding them of late but I needed to have some sort of fun over the
holidays, it just happened to involve a twenty-something-year-old’s
party. A twenty-something-year-old
boy
. This wasn’t going to
be easy.

Mum and Dad had just pulled into the drive
when Ellie rocked up in her Sunday best. She radiantly beamed a
smile at my parents and chit-chatted pleasantly with them. If only
they knew what happened as soon as my bedroom door was closed, and
she flipped her backpack off, the contents vomiting onto my
bedspread. She all but cried a war chant as she stared me down and
started whispering about tonight’s plan of attack.

My parents seemed happy enough that Adam was
back in town and that we had plans to meet up with him. Those usual
occurrences meant late nights watching DVDs at one of our houses.
We didn’t give the specifics, but I told them I would have my
mobile on me. They just told us to have a good time. With an “I’m
not sure what time the movies will finish” I was curfew free. Mum
and Dad were usually in the deep stage of sleeping by the time I
crept through the door. Not that I had made a habit of it. And this
was the first time I felt the pang of guilt, because usually what I
had just said was the truth.

I folded my make-up bag and choice of
clothing in Ellie's pack; we would go via her place for the change
so as not to raise any questions. Ellie’s mum was a nurse and on
night shift, so we could be in and out undiscovered. Ellie’s dad
would barely glance up at us, especially if the cricket was on. I
had always thought her incredibly lucky to be given such a free
rein, but now, the lack of attention they paid her made me kind of
sad.

“So has Adam been filled in on our plan of
deceit?” I asked rather unenthusiastically.

“He has and he is going to meet us there.”
Ellie looked at me side on as we walked along the street.

But I didn’t offer any reaction. I half
expected her to ask what was going on between us but either she
didn’t want to pry or she was way too distracted by Stan and his
impending party to worry herself with the drama. I was betting on
the latter. She talked animatedly about Stan, and how he had
apologised again for not coming. Said he’d make it up to her. I’d
tuned out by the time we crossed McLean’s Bridge.

The plan was to rendezvous at the Onslow
Hotel, before wandering off to Stan’s later on. It felt surreal and
a bit intimidating walking up the grassy embankment, even though we
had been there only a mere hours beforehand. This time the sun had
dimmed and the fairy lights lit the eaves above the picnic tables
that were now occupied by a mass of people, enjoying the music from
within. We had never been here when we weren’t working. Never been
ordinary patrons. I felt as if I didn’t know what to do with my
hands, as if I should be reaching and collecting empty glasses on
the way in. We were stared down by a group of older girls, and were
cast a wink and a smile by a guy we brushed passed; some older
gents nodded “Ladies” as we weaved our way to the bar.