Graffiti Night

On My Own...

Picture is of part of James' house just so I don't have to full on explain it.

"All you sinners stand up, sing hallelujah (hallelujah)
Show praise with your body, stand up sing hallelujah (hallelujah)
And if you can't stop shaking, lean back, let it move right through ya
Say your prayers, say your prayers, say your prayers." - Hallelujah, Panic! At The Disco
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I've been walking along this long road for ages. My feet hurt and my phone keeps ringing with Oli's number. It's 12 pm, the sun is sizzling my skin and I'm starving. I turn around and walk backwards, trying to see if there are any cars heading my way. I see a ute driving slowly towards me and I stick my thumb out and wait for it to get closer. It slows to a stop right beside me and the window rolls down. He's young. Only a "P" plater. Straggly sun-bleached surfer hair, electric blue eyes, two dimples and a white smile that he flashes me when I don't say anything.
"Where are you heading?" He asks.
"Barwon Heads." I tell him.
"Ahh, good. That's where I live. Get in and I'll give you a lift." He says.
"Oh my god, thank you so much."
"No problem." I open the car door and go to put my bag in but he pushes it back and gets out of the car. "Put it in the tray." He takes my bag and puts it in the back of his ute.
"Thanks."
"Don't worry about it. So, uh, what's your name?" He asks as we get into the air-conditioned cabin.
"Amber." I tell him.
"Amber who?"
"Amber Brooks."
"Cute name."
"Uh, thanks I guess. And you are?"
"James Foley."
"Well, James, how am I going to repay you for this?"
"There are a number of things that I can think of, but right now, just tell me your story."
"My story?"
"Yeah, why not? We're going to be in this car for another 2 hours so we better get to know each other." He smiles shyly.
"Uh, okay. I'm not usually one to open up quickly, but you seem trust worthy enough and it's not like I'm gonna be alive much longer anyway." I pause, looking at the scared look on his face. "Chill, I'm kidding!" I lie. "Anyway, I'm 17 years of age. My mum passed away when I was 7. Ever since then it's been my brother, who is now dead, and my alcoholic abusive father. But my brother was killed in a car accident that my best friend was involved in.
"I've never been good at the school thing. 3 different primary schools. 5 different high schools. None of the teachers or kids like or liked me. I didn't really care until my best friend killed himself." Tears well up in my eyes. "We used to ditch class, just me and him, and sit behind the toilet block, him smoking and me trying a cigarette. We'd just talk about life and shit.
"I never cared about what kids thought of me or us when I was with him because I was just so free and so happy and so... light.
"But now it's different because he's not at school, and he's not going to put a rock with a note saying "syke, that'll teach you to get out of bed" in a lunch bag, tricking me, and he's not going to make stupid jokes about random shit, and he's not going to give me that look he does when he's done something wrong but can't say it so he'll just look at you, and he'll never tackle me or wrestle me or do anything again because he's dead and there is nothing, nothing," I sob, "I can do to get him back."
James notices I'm crying and hands me a tissue and goes to hold my hand, but I pull my hand away.
"Hey, don't cry. It gets better. Believe me. I've been where you are at the moment. My sister drowned about five years ago and a year after my mum killed herself because she thought it was her fault that she died." He shrugs. "So I know the feeling." I nod and wipe away my tears.
"Um, I have a boyfriend who I am running away from because I'm too cowardly to tell him what's going on in my head or life and his ass of a brother is just a complete dickhead and I think I just really need to clear my head and get away from the bustling city for a bit." I breathe. James nods.
"The beach is the perfect place for that sort of thing."
"I graffiti too, by the way."
"Ahh, a graffiti artist. You any good?"
"Average."
"Bullshit."
"Excuse me?"
"Well, all artists I know, always downgrade themselves and then when they show their art, it's freaking amazing." I laugh.
"Then I'll show you some of my work when we get to the beach."
"Alrighty then. How about some music in the meantime?"
"Depends on what you listen to." I smile.
"You look like a girl who'd like it."
"Let's hear it then." He chuckles and turns on the CD player. Pittsburgh by The Amity Affliction plays and I almost scream.
"I would never take you for a guy who listens to this sort of music." I exclaim.
"What sort of music do you think I listen to?" He asks.
"Surfer music." He laughs.
"And what sort of music is that?"
"Indie? Alternative?" I grin. He scoffs.
"Well I don't mind that music, just prefer this or rock or grunge." I smile and shrug. I look at the window as I watch the paddocks and fields pass. As I listen to the lyrics, they begin to remind me of the sort of lyrics Mac would sing in his songs. As the memories get too much, I reach out and punch the off button for the stereo, angrily.
"Woah, are you alright?" James asks. I blink tears back as I look at him hesitantly. Just as I go to explain, he butts in.
"Memories." He nods. I reply with a small nod. "Don't need to explain, I completely understand."
"Thank you." I manage to choke out. He smiles softly at me. Just as I go to change the topic, my phone explodes into vibrating and the original marimba ringtone. I check the caller ID and freeze, my breath catching in my throat.
Mac.
I answer it immediately, tears filling my eyes and trailing down my cheeks.
"Please?" I plead, hoping to hear his beautiful voice that I miss so much.
"Amber, I'm so sorry to do it this way, but I'm worried about you." Oli's voice says. "I just needed to hear your voice and know that you're safe." I hang my head, letting out a sob. "Amber, speak to me. Please." I don't say a word. "I'm coming to get you now. I'm so sorry to do it this way, baby, I really am-" I don't wait to hear the rest of what he has to say, I just hang up. I try to get in a breath but I'm crying too hard. I drop the phone into my lap and put my head in my hands. I feel the car come to a stop. I feel him unclip my seatbelt and pull me onto his lap. I don't usually let random people I've just met hug me, let alone touch me, but I'm just not in the mood to care so I cry into James' chest.
"Do you wanna crash at mine tonight?" I hear his voice rumble through his chest. I nod and wipe my tears away.
"God, I'm sorry. I'm such a mess at the moment." I laugh half-heartedly.
"It's no problem at all. Gives me more chances to hug you." He smirks. I shoot him a playful glare and hit his arm. He chuckles and let's me back climb over into my seat.
"Let's get back on our way shall we? We're almost there, about another half an hour to go." I nod and he starts driving again. I just stare out the window and when I feel James take my hand, I don't pull it away. I let him hold it the whole car ride into town.