Ecstasy

Chapter 16

Tyson:

I sighed, my mood darkening when my house stretched into view. At the end of a dusty bitumen road, the old farmhouse looked something from a horror story surrounded by the tall growing sugar cane, ghost gums and other acreage properties. I remembered when I was younger I used to hide in the fields and wish to never be found. Thomas almost strangled the steering wheel. He hated driving me home. I was happy to take the train but he insisted. I was glad that he was my emergency contact. Somehow I knew Frank wouldn't bother to get off his arse to pick me up from the hospital.

I inwardly groaned when Thomas pulled into the gravel driveway and cut the engine.

I didn't move. I didn't want to get out of the car.

"Come on Sonny," Thomas begged. I knew he wasn't comfortable forcing me to go home. But I knew he needed his space.

I reached over the back at that thought, and grabbed my duffle bag of clothes. Opening the car door, I stepped out, my nose suddenly becoming filled with the fresh country air. I sneezed, not used to it.

Closing the door I spared a wave over my shoulder as I jumped the few steps up the porch. Inhaling deeply once, before sliding my key into place. I had to make this quick.

Pushing open the door I hesitated, looking back at Thomas's retreating taillights. I wished I could be seated in that passenger seat. I turned back to the open door, and walked in. I tried to shut the door as quietly as I could, and walked to the stairs, jumping up them two at a time.

"Tyson! Boy! Is that you?" I heard Frank's loud shouts from the living room as I bounded up the stairs.

"Tyson! You little shi –" I tried to ignore my father's shouts as I bolted to my room, wrenching open the door. I could hear his heavy steps coming up the stairs.

"Where have you been?" He was yelling.

I slammed the door behind me, looping over the chain lock quickly. I pushed my back against the door.

"Tyson! Open the door!" I heard his fist banging. He tried opening it, his weight on the door pushed me away. The wood vibrated as the door opened to the extent of the chain. I was afraid it would splinter but I knew he couldn't budge it, the amount of times this routine had repeated and he still hadn't learnt.

"Open this door now! You stole my money! I know you did." He was still shouting.

I tried to ignore him and sat down on the old bed, it creaked under my weight.

"Don't expect any dinner tonight." He grumbled. I only relaxed when I heard his steps retreating down the stairs.

I collapsed down on my unmade bed, breathing a sigh. Looking up at the dirty ceiling I couldn't wait until I had finished school. The room was scattered with my old stuff. I didn't have the time or motivation to chuck out half of the children's toys. I turned over in the bed, my eyes falling across my old acoustic guitar leaning against my bookshelf.

I stood up with a groan and took the guitar in my hands. There was a string broken, curled up at the head. Sinking back on the bed I eyed the old instrument. I could almost hear her voice, see her fingers dancing across the brand new strings. Her hair falling across her face, obscuring the smile playing on her lips. I ground my teeth again and ran a hand through my hair as I tried to forget.

I strummed a few strings, and the strangled sound echoed in the high ceiling room. I tapped my fingers on the polished wood thinking for a moment. Lines of poetry joining together in my head. I pulled out a notebook and set to work.

Three hours later I had a complete song sitting in front of me, sketched messily on the page. I had enough of playing it over and over again, and I knew looking at the words, that the band would never use it. I ripped the page out and tossed it across the room. Sean's authority over the music and band pissed me off. There's no point anymore. Why write music if I can't share it? I watched as the ball of scrunched up paper bounced and fell between my school books.

I sighed, tiredness finally falling over me. I could feel a bad withdrawal coming on as my head throbbed and my limbs ached. I knew it would keep me up all night. I eyed my stash masked behind the wall of books on the bookshelf. Without the energy to stand up I just collapsed back on the bed, wanting so desperately to fall asleep.

***

The sunlight blared through my window and woke me up in the morning and I stumbled about my room for a few moments, realising that I had to go to school. I groaned as I heard the school bus pull up outside. That meant I was even later than I realised. I wondered if they would notice if I didn't come to school today. I knew Mr Pollock would probably expel me but no one else would care. The bus honked its horn and I panicked, stuffing school books into a bag. I unlocked my door. I took the stairs to quickly and just caught myself before falling down them. I passed Frank unconscious on the couch, an empty bottle of rum staining the floor beside him.

"Bye Dad," I sighed as I walked past.

Slamming the front door behind me, I wandered up the driveway to the bus idling at the curb. I dug in my pockets realising I hadn't taken the bus in more than a week and I had no credit on my pass. Stepping up the steps I reached for my wallet in my back pocket.

"Don't worry about it, mate," the bus driver dismissed me. I turned to find a seat and as I walked down the aisle to the back I noticed someone's eyes on me. Her gold hair winked in the morning sun like a dollar coin on the sidewalk. The dark brown of her eyes were sharp as she surveyed me. The girl from the hospital.

I closed the gap between us and dropped into the empty seat beside her. The bus was accelerating now and shaking as it went over the dirt road. I didn't say anything at first. I didn't know what to say. I looked at her and found her staring at me, her eyes wide.

"Hey," the word came to my lips almost without thinking.

She blinked somehow surprised, and I couldn't help smiling. She was cute.

"Hi?" She replied, somehow not believing the words that came out of her mouth.

I thought for a second before saying hesitantly, "uh, thanks. For..." I didn't know how to continue, "you know."

She chewed her bottom lip and avoided my eyes for a moment. I looked down at the bag in her lap. My eyes struggled to read the tiny smudged print of her name. Calla Stevenson. Suddenly memories I didn't know I had rushed back. Bumping into her in the hallway. Cream Oxford lace-ups. The way she repeated her name again and again at the hospital. Tyson, we met in the hall... My name is Calla. Tyson? My name is Calla. The way she held my hand when I needed her.

"I don't know what to say."

The tone in her voice shocked me for a moment, and I realised I must have scared her the other night. "Don't worry; you don't need to say anything." Because I don't want to hear it.

She looked back at me sharply, her eyes hiding a hint of anger as if she knew what I was thinking. "But I have to."

The bus lurched to a stop and I braced myself against the seat in front of me. The doors pulled open and people in the bus began to push and shove themselves out the door. I wanted to ask her more, but she stood up brusquely and walked past me, and off the bus.