Now There's Drama

35

Christie sent a text to Marc that Saturday, attached was her address.

Marc's first response was: How did you get my number?

Christie replied with: Tegan

That name seemed to crop up in all of Marc's problems, in the most endearing way possible.

Marc turned up in his dirt Oztag uniform. He knocked on the door, brushing himself down and wiping his shoes against the concrete step.

Christie opened the door. "You won," Christie said.

"How'd you know?" Marc asked.

"You're smiling, you're puffed. Too much testosterone running through your body. It's disgusting really," she said.

"What?'

"When you men win a game you get a testosterone boost and believe you're invincible. I win a netball game and I'm not like 'yes I won, oestrogen boost. I'm going to have sex with the first guy I find'"

"Not all men are dickheads."

"Prove it and we'll see. Follow me," she said, beckoning for him to come inside.

The Claythorne house was immaculate. The couches were on a perfect 90 degree angle. All the chairs were tucked under the desk. One the coffee table were a stack of lifestyle magazines. Replicas of Monet's paintings hung on the wall.

Cutting an apple on the kitchen bench was Christie's father. "Ah son, come sit down," he said to Marc taking the apple and leaning on the kitchen bench. He gestured towards a seat.

Marc pulled out a chair and sat down.

"I understand that you are one of the many boys who has fallen for Brielle. Young man if you so much as-"

"Dad, Marc's with me," Christie said.

"Oh Alexander Claythorne."

"Marc Cavener."

The two reached out and shook hands. Marc noticed Christie roll her eyes at them and tapped her foot on the floor.

"I won't keep you two," Alexander said.

Christie walked with her gaze directed forwards. Marc hurried to keep up with her. After seeing the perfectly clean house Marc flinched when he saw the garage. One half of the garage housed the car. The other half was roped off with construction tape. Paper covered the walls. A white board with a plethora of markers was attached to the wall.

Marc stepped down off the step and moved towards the white desk which was spattered in pen ink with a computer, newspapers and a printer sat there, those being the only sense of normality in the entire room.

Christie sat on a desk chair and wheeled herself over to the desk. Marc sat on a picnic chair set up on the side of the desk. The chair buckled under his weight.

Marc looked at Christie who flicked her hair out of her face. He wrung his hands and placed them on his knees.

"I was thinking..." Christie started.

"That's always dangerous," Marc muttered, forgetting for a second it was the girl of his dreams not Tegan or Delilah.

"We should visit Kip's mum. You know because we found the body."

"Why do you need me?"

"It looks dodgy if I turn up seeing as Kip and I didn't have the best relationship. You were his best friend, his mum must have liked you."

Marc nodded slowly. Christie stood up and pulled her t-shirt down, grabbed her bag and walked out of the garage. Marc followed, hanging his head. Looking at Christie sent the butterflies in his stomach into overdrive.