Push

8. He Solved a Problem

TOBY

When I was sixteen, I fell head over heels for the new girl at school.

My mates thought I had rocks in my head. Lots of pretty girls smiled in my direction. Why would I be interested in the weird scholarship kid whose nose was always stuck in a book?

I hated that they called her weird. I thought she was... fascinating.

I always took the long way from biology class to footy training. If I timed it just right, I'd catch a glimpse of the new girl hiding under the twisted oak tree near the sports fields. I'd stop, lean my hip against the bleachers, and watch her read her book. Sometimes, she'd tuck the loose bit of hair that always fell out of her ponytail behind her ear. If I was super lucky, I might even see a smile curl her pretty lips when she read something funny.

Yeah, the second my eyes locked on Gwen, I was a goner.

She didn't even know I existed.

I clowned around doing so much dumb shit, trying to get her attention. Never worked. Taking down that dickhead Bryce Ford after he teased her for wearing pink knee socks almost got me suspended from school, but Gwen still ignored me.

Getting her to help out at the football grand final was my last hope. I orchestrated the whole thing. Sauntered up to the homeroom teacher, way too full of my own shit, thinking I was a big man, but I was a teenage boy on a mission. I wanted Gwen to notice me.

That plan was the stuff of legends.

The teacher convinced her. She came along. She wasn't miserable. I scored twice back-to-back. I was already riding on a high, but when Gwen's eyes lifted off her clipboard and saw me—really saw me—for the first time, well, I never smiled so big in my life. She blushed. Looked away. So damn cute.

She was mine from that day forward.

Until she wasn't.

Until I fucked it all up.

The world was on fire all around me. I lit the match. But no matter what happened—no matter how much Gwen hated me—the best parts of both of us would always shine through in Noah. My perfect little guy.

He woke from his sleep full of gummy smiles. I snuggled him close until he squirmed and wriggled to roll around on his playmat. Pain stabbed through my temples even thinking about that stupid mat. It was covered in jungle animals, and the toucan sitting on top flashed and squawked along to high-pitched music. Extra torture to top off my hangover from hell.

Tanya peeked over the top of her Kindle every time Noah's chubby hand smacked the toucan to make it sing again. An evil grin curled her lips. She was loving this.

I was in the kitchen, mashing a banana for Noah's breakfast, wearing an old pair of pajama bottoms and a faded t-shirt Gwen had stuffed with other clothes in the trash when a scream pierced the silent house.

My heart plummeted to my feet. I dropped everything. Bolted. Down the hall. Up the stairs. The nursery door was wide open. I flew inside. Tanya was pinned against the wall. Her face was white with horror.

My eyes were frantic in every direction. "What's wrong?" I was already racing to where Noah was still babbling on the mat. "What happened?"

Tanya's finger jabbed wildly in Noah's direction. "He—he–pooped!"

Still cooing his own made-up words, Noah flipped onto his belly, and sure enough, the tell-tale signs of a poop explosion stained the back of his stripey onesie.

I rolled my eyes at Tanya. "Seriously?"

The toss of her hair was indignant. "I don't do poop." She flopped down in the rocking chair and grabbed her Kindle off the nightstand.