Ecstasy

Chapter 34

Tyson:

My hands grasped the pedestal basin tightly as I stared into the mirror. I'd been in there for a while; looking at my reflection. My eye had already ballooned up – I could hardly recognise myself. The angry swelling had obscured the vision in my left eye, I poked at it with my finger tip wincing. As I stretched over the basin the skin on my stomach stung and I lifted my shirt to see a nice big tender bruise spreading across my stomach. I dropped my singlet and sighed.

We fight every now and again. It's just something that's bound to happen. Most times I win, but he gets his fair share of victories. Today was just one of them.
It starts with him either being too drunk or too sober. It's not often Frank runs out of grog but when he does it hurts. I think I prefer him passed out on the couch.

It wasn't a particularly violent fight. Just the normal; it starts off with an argument, shouting and yelling, then it escalates to pushing and then the fists come out and we box. Just this time I was on the receiving end. Although I may have started it.

Looking in the mirror I licked the front of my teeth and tasted blood. Spiting out a mouthful of red into the white sink made me think. Looks like I'm skipping the next few days of school.

And I probably should have taken a few more off, I thought as I walked into the music room and joined Calla at the back of the class room. Trust her to notice. I thought of what to say as I passed over my late slip to the teacher.

She guessed it. Right off the bat; that I'd been in a fight. I tried to make a joke out of it trying a fake smile.

I took her worksheet from out under her hands and read what she had been working on for the last fifteen minutes. There was a string of notes written across the page mostly half rubbed out from her attack with the eraser. I looked back at her and caught her staring at my fists. A frown hovered over her brown eyes and her fingers were fidgeting together. I put my hands under the desk.

"Are you okay?" I asked her.

She looked up at me and studied my face, her line of sight flicking between each of my eyes.

"I thought you were avoiding me," I opened my mouth to say something but nothing came out. I was avoiding her but I was also avoiding her next question.

"Who where you fighting with?" She asked quietly.

I cursed Calla's question under my breath. The way she was looking at me unnerved me – it was like she could see right through me. I didn't want to tell her. She didn't need to know.

"You don't have any bruises on your knuckles." Her eyes flickered to my hands as I pulled them out from under the desk. I clenched my fists and eyed the small scar on my left hand. "Tyson, who were you fighting?"

With a sinking feeling I realised I only came to school because I knew she'd be the only one that would notice. She would be the only one that would question. She already knew too much, but what's a little more going to change?

I decided then to tell her. I mean everyone has fights with their dads right?

"Frank – I mean my dad." I quickly corrected myself.

She frowned again, "Is he your stepdad?"

I could tell she took notice of the fact I called him Frank before my father.

"Unfortunately no." I grumbled.

"What were you fighting about?"

I thought about it. I think the argument started off with a remark about his wallet being empty. He thought I'd been stealing money. Which I had, but I wasn't going to admit it. It was just pushing around then and I was ready to walk away, until he made a snide remark about Mum.