The Boys of Summer (10 page)

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Authors: C.J Duggan

Tags: #coming of age, #series, #australian young adult, #mature young adult, #romance 1990s, #mature ya romance, #mature new adult

BOOK: The Boys of Summer
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“Just be careful, hon,” Rosanna said.

“Oh, are the plates hot?” I flinched back
just before my hands made contact.

Rosanna laughed. “No, but hot boys can burn
you just as easily.”

Oh no! Love advice from Rosanna. Now was not
the time for a deep and meaningful; in fact, with Rosanna,
never
would be the time. To avoid the next cliché, I quickly
grabbed the plates and legged it. I was about two seconds into my
commute when I realised maybe Rosanna’s words did have a double
meaning; the plates were bloody hot! I bit my lip as I quickstepped
through the bar, scurrying as fast as I could to the poolroom. I
breathed deeply and grimaced at the pain, and when I entered the
poolroom, I managed to voice the fact.

“Ahh-eee-aaah,” I said, “hot stuff coming
through.”

I dumped the plates on the bar, shaking and
blowing on my now free hands.

Oh God, did I really just announce that to
the room?

“McGEE!” Sean shouted as he looked up from
his pool shot that he’d just pocketed with ease. He straightened
and swaggered towards me, brushing passed me as he reached for his
beer on the bar. He saluted ‘cheers’ towards me before taking a
sip.

“Murphy!” I tipped my head.

“Ah, so you’ve done your research? You know
my name.”

“I think everyone knows your name.”

“Really? Why?” he mused.

I gave him an incredulous look. “’Cos of
footy, of course; star ruck-man, why else?”

Stan slapped Sean on the back as he took his
seat to get stuck into his meal.

“It’s that, or the fact that he’s such a
ladies’ man,” Stan teased.

Sean cast Stan a hard look as he watched his
friend eat. “Don’t choke on that, will you?”

My eyes locked with Toby’s who was across the
bar, about to swig on his own beer. He was smiling at his mates’
banter, and his eyes never left me as he took a long, deep drink.
My burning hands were long forgotten as I felt other areas of my
flesh burn up, with those eyes on me. Toby swallowed his beer and
opened his mouth to speak when he was cut off by two hands covering
his eyes from behind.

“Guess who?”

He smiled broadly and grabbed at the
hands.

“Vanessa?”

It was then that Angela Vickers swung around
to his side, hitting him with her clutch purse.

“Real funny, and who is this Vanessa, huh?”
She mocked anger, but it was quickly defused as she melted with
Toby’s blinding, beautiful smile. She closed the distance between
them, claiming his lips passionately as if it were a long-lost
reunion.

Ringer groaned. “Get a room you two!”

I quickly looked away. The thought of her
running her hands through his hair, pressed up against him in an
embrace was just too much to bear.

I made a quick exit back to the kitchen to
grab the two remaining plates that had mercifully cooled to the
touch by now. I had hoped to spot Ellie en route, in the hopes that
maybe she’d switch with me, but she was nowhere to be seen. At the
risk of the food getting cold, I had no choice but to grin and bear
it.

“Tess, can you do a glass run while you
deliver those?” called Chris from the restaurant side of the
bar.

Oh great, what timing. A glass run when I
couldn’t get out of there fast enough. I set the meals down with no
witty banter from Sean; he was too busy talking to Angela who had
decided to perch herself on Toby’s lap.

I slowly, methodically made my way around the
edge of the poolroom, picking up empty beer glasses from the
windowsills and barrels. I spotted an empty glass near Toby and
Angela.

Oh great
.

I shyly excused myself as I leant passed them
to grab the glass. Angela, who seemed to not even be aware of my
existence until then looked me over and gave me a cool, calculating
assessment. She didn’t like what she saw.

“Hey, bar-keep!” she shouted with a
smirk.

“Her name’s Tess, Ang,” said Stan. For that I
was totally in love with him and wanted to tell him thanks, but I
didn’t, as Angela had me in her sights. As she stared at me, all I
could think of was
please don’t call me Tic Tac, please don’t
call me that.

I could see the nickname register in her cold
eyes. She smiled slowly.

“Tess, would you be able to get me a glass of
your house white?”

I was at first surprised by the simple
question, and then I realised I would have to give her my standard
answer.

“Oh … um, sorry, I’m not allowed to serve
alcohol, I’m only seventeen.” I blanched. Her brows rose in fake
surprise. She damn well knew I couldn’t serve her alcohol. She just
laughed and waved me off as if to run along.

“Oh, never mind. Chriiiiissssss,” she shouted
down the bar.

Her attempt to make me feel two feet tall had
worked. I became embarrassed and flustered. I went to add the last
glass to my stack, but it slipped through my fingers and fell.
Everything happened in slow motion until it hit the floor and
shattered in a loud, almighty smash.

“Taxi!” several people called out and
laughed. All eyes were on me.

The entire stack wobbled in my arms but Sean
jumped up and steadied them for me.

“Whoa, careful!”

I pressed my free hand to my forehead as I
surveyed the damage. After carefully placing the glasses back on
the bar, I bent quickly to pick up the shards, averting my eyes
from all their gazes. An extra pair of hands appeared in front of
me and carefully picked up some of the larger pieces. Silently,
Toby had crouched beside me and my heart swelled at his kindness.
His hand then grabbed my wrist as I went to lift a smaller
piece.

“Don’t cut yourself.”

I froze, suddenly aware of him touching me,
and then all too quickly he removed his hand from my skin and I
looked away.

“I’ll get a dustpan,” I said under my breath.
I also wanted to get away from them, from Angela, who I could hear
laughing behind me. I was so determined to get away from the shrill
sound that I nearly collided straight into Chris, who was holding a
broom and dustpan.

“Thanks.” I reached to take it from him, but
he moved them from my reach.

“No, it’s okay, I’ll take care of it.”

“No, it’s fine, I can–”

“Why don’t you go and take over from Amy for
a bit?”

I did a double take. In other words:
you
have made enough of a mess, Tess, get back to the kitchen where you
belong
. It felt like a physical blow.

I nodded and pushed passed him. Ellie gave me
a smile and a little wave from across the restaurant but I just
made my way to the kitchen.

When I informed Amy I was there to take over
for her, she hooted joyously and ripped off her apron with
lightning speed.

With a “See ya later, losers,” she pushed
open the door and was gone.

“What a little shit she is,” Rosanna
said.

I surveyed the sink area and my new work
zone. It appeared that Amy had made more mess in her attempt to
clean. There was water all over the floor, and the dishes still had
remnants of half-chewed food and sauces on them. I had visions of
her furiously dunking them in the putrid water, fantasising it was
my head as she slammed them onto the dish rack in a rage. I
couldn’t blame her. I was about to do the same; instead, I would be
imagining someone else. I would be dunking Angela.

Chapter Nine

I stole a moment in the ladies’ room,
perched on a closed toilet lid for a bit of chin-trembling.

Even Rosanna and Melba must have sensed the
change as, for once, they weren’t taking their anger out on me.
Ellie definitely knew something was wrong when I declined the
end-of-shift staff drink from Chris. The Onslow Boys and Angela
were still in the poolroom, and I just wanted a discreet exit out
the back way. Ellie also knew me well enough not to question me
about it, at least not just yet. We made our way down the sloping
stretch of road where we would wait for my mum to pick us up.

“Hey, do you wanna go for a ride tomorrow?”
Ellie said. “We can pick up our pays and go and blow it all at
Carter’s. There’s this cute little skirt that would look great on
you.”

This was Ellie trying to cheer me up.

“Sounds good!” I faked a smile.

After I completed my nightly routine, peeling
off my half-drenched, smoke-infused clothes to have a long, hot
shower, I fired up my computer and found an email from Adam.

 

To: tessmcgee

Bad news I’m afraid! There is a Magnum P.I
marathon on and guess who is front and centre?

ME! Under sufferance of course.

Although don’t jump to any conclusions if I
return home with a handle bar moustache.

It doesn’t mean a thing.

How’s things in O town? Hope you’re having
fun without me.

Sender: Adam I can jump puddles
Henderson.

 

I was so emotionally exhausted even Adam’s
email did little to perk me up. I couldn’t help but think back to
Angela’s arms draped over Toby, her sardonic smile as she belittled
me in front of everyone. The smashing of the glass replayed in slow
motion, the brush of Toby’s fingers as he helped me pick up the
shards.

I felt like such an idiot. I should have
insisted with Chris that I’d clean it up. I could only imagine
Angela’s snide remarks as Chris swept up the mess.


Ha! I wish someone would clean up after
me. That’s what you get for hiring twelve-year-olds”
, she would
have said. And then everyone would have laughed with her.

I groaned and cupped my head in my hands.

 

To: Adam I can jump puddles Henderson

Do it! Moustaches are hot!

O Town is just peachy!

Sender: tessmcgee

 

To: ellieparker

All good. I am looking forward to our bike
ride tomorrow. X

Sender: tessmcgee

***

I pumped the pedals and pressed forward over
the handlebars to surge myself over McLean’s Bridge. On and on it
went, a never-ending mass of concrete overshadowing Lake Onslow. Up
the footpath then around the curb, I peddled like a mad thing. The
hot summer wind threatened to burn my skin as I boldly sailed down
Macquarie Avenue, riding with no hands.

This was the freedom I had yearned for and
never in my life would I have believed I would have found it on a
Monday. But it was the holidays now and things had been switched
up. I would meet up with Ellie after lunch as planned. In an
attempt to still my overactive mind and get the most I could from
the day, I had grabbed my bike and headed around the back roads of
Onslow. The Mitchum bike trail had some of the best bushland
scenery around. Luckily, being Australia, I didn’t have to worry
about mountain lions, grizzly bears or wolves … just poisonous
snakes, deadly spiders and the odd wayward wallaby that wandered
down from the foothills of the Perry Ranges.

As I glided along the isolated road, I sought
refuge amidst the trees that edged my way, blocking the searing sun
in intervals of shade-light-shade. I had circled this area a
hundred, maybe a thousand, times and each time there were new
sounds, new scenes. It made me forget the mundane existence of all
that troubled me. I stood straight up on the peddles, lifting my
face to the sky and breathing deeply, feeling the flashes of the
changing shades flicker spots under my closed eyelids. This was
living. In a space that seemed like nowhere, there were no worries,
nothing could touch me here. Nothing!

And that’s when I heard a snap.

Remember the never-ending stretch of the
McLean’s Bridge? The one I just had to leave behind me? Well, that
was nothing compared to the long, barren stretch of bitumen that
faced me now. This seriously had no end, I was going to die here!
Suddenly all the wonder and the beauty of my surroundings lost its
lustre for me as I limped my bike back down the road. I stopped
every few steps to survey the damage to my skinned knee that had
already started scabbing over, thanks to the heat of the day.

As I stopped for the hundredth time, I was
surprised and a little disappointed that there wasn’t more blood
flowing from my gaping wound. It stung like a bitch! I took my
anger out on my bike by giving it a good kick.

“Stupid bloody chain.”

It had snapped clean in half, causing it to
make an infuriating clanking sound with every rotation of the
wheels. I clenched my jaw and limped on.

Nature sucked. I hated nature; I hated the
now seemingly blistering sun that threatened to burn my skin. I
hated the trees, the lake views, the birdsong and, most of all, I
hated my carelessness. No phone, no water, no sunscreen. From now
on, I would pack a survival kit that would consist of my dad’s
Swiss Army Knife. For what? So I could clip my toenails and open a
bottle of wine?

Real smart, Tess.

My God, the heat was frying my brain, maybe I
was losing too much blood? I might need a transfusion by the time I
made it around the sweep of the Horseshoe Bend, my next landmark
that was still nowhere in sight. After that, there was a bit of a
declining slope, nothing too major and then the caravan park, owned
by the Remingtons – Stan’s parents. Perhaps they would let me dial
triple zero by the time I stumbled through their gates. Or my
mum.

Failing that, the next stop was the Onslow
Hotel, where I could seek shelter and water and be nursed back to
health by Melba, Rosanna and Chris.

Yeah, I think I would pass on that one.

I had a better chance of backstroking across
Lake Onslow. But even though it weighed me down and I was seriously
pissed with it, I wouldn’t leave my bike. She was last year’s
Christmas present, a deep midnight purple with a tan cane basket on
the front, very Jessica Lansbury circa
Murder She Wrote
. In
the beginning, Adam and Ellie ribbed me about it constantly, but
guess who wanted their swimming gear carted when it was too awkward
to hook onto their handlebars? Oh, how they loved the Grandma
basket then. Not that it served me much good now, it housed nothing
more than a beach bag with my purse which held a whole $15 and my
student ID.

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