So Much to Learn (35 page)

Geez, Sam, I
thought sarcastically, thanks for bringing me into this. People on
the oval and on the grass around us were looking at me and I felt
myself going red as Sam continued, "The only reason you hate her so
much is because she gives you back as good as she gets and,
frankly, I think it's about bloody time that somebody did."

I wondered for
a moment whether it would be appropriate to do what they did in
parliament and sing out: 'hear, hear!' at this point, but decided
against it.

Stopping
struggling against Sam for a moment Micky snarled, "You know you
just might be right, she's certainly looking pretty good now
compared to you!"

"And knowing that I'm right just kills you, doesn't it?" Sam
crowed. "Come to think of it your biggest problem has really been
caused by all the crap you've thrown at Talia this year. Face
it,
brother
, I'm
not the one who's screwed things up for you, you are!"

There was a
moment during which I struggled to comprehend how I had caused
Micky's 'biggest problem' and silence descended around me. During
this moment everything seemed to stop so I went ahead and jinxed
the situation by thinking that maybe the fight between the twins
was over. The next second, however, Micky's face puffed up weirdly
as if filled with hot air and Simone and I both yelled, "Sam!" at
the same time as Micky twisted his arm free and, in one powerful
swing smashed Sam's nose to the side. There was a sickening crunch,
audible even from where Simone and I were standing, and a cascade
of blood gushed over Micky's hand and down Sam's face.

For a moment I,
and everyone else it seemed, watched in horrified fascination as
the crimson liquid gushed over the twins before a small whimper
from Simone made me snap out of my daze. I turned towards Simone to
see if she was OK and was just in time to catch her as she swayed
and lost her balance. She looked awful and I knew that the sight of
so much blood on top of everything else had really got to her.

I hugged her
tightly against my chest, letting her hide her face away from it
all, acting as the strong one but wishing with all my might that I
was able to run down to Jack and let him comfort me as I was
comforting Simone.

Alex, who had cast one quick look up to his sister as the
blood had first burst forth, rushed forward and helped Sam to one
side, holding the older boy's head down so that the blood would
drip free rather than go down the back of his throat. Considering
Alex's attitude earlier on, he showed, I thought, remarkable
maturity in his handling of Sam. Watching him with interest I let
myself wonder for a moment exactly what his story was, what had
happened that night on the fire escape? My moment of contemplation
was short-lived, however, as the next second Alex had glanced up,
seen me staring at him and shouted, "What the hell are you looking
at
me
for? Get her
out of here," gesturing towards Simone.

He was right,
of course, it seemed as if Simone was having a nervous breakdown
and she really couldn't stay at the oval so I took hold of her
shoulders and hauled my petite friend off me and forced her into a
standing position. With Haley on one side and me on the other we
managed to hustle Simone up the hill, past all the staring people,
and out into the car park. The air seemed to get fresher and
lighter the further away we were from the oval and I wondered
whether I'd been unconsciously taking shorter breaths during all
the commotion.

Digging
Simone's car keys out of her bag, I unlocked the passenger side of
the car and Haley and I manoeuvred her in. As Simone slumped
against the back of the car seat, Haley and I took a step back and
then we all looked at each other for a moment in shell shocked
silence. Simone's eyes were wet with tears, Haley was biting
furiously at her fingernails, and I knew my face was still red as a
beetroot.

Saturday
football had never been so dramatic! Honestly, and they say girls
are the ones who like all the drama.

"I suppose we
should go," I said hesitantly once it seemed that neither of the
others were going to say anything.

Simone nodded
but then, as I went to get into the driver's side she called out
and stopped me. "No, you have to go back," she said shakily.

"Huh?" I looked
at her in bemusement and she gave a small smile.

"Come on,
Talia, I've known you for forever I know that you're dying to go
back and see what's going on. And you have to anyway because if you
don't we'll never know what happened because the boys will close
ranks like they always do."

"I'd like to
know if Sam's OK," Haley said timidly and, for once, her shy
attitude didn't annoy me.

"Fine then." I
didn't need much persuading, Simone was right, I was desperate to
know what was happening. I chucked the keys to Haley and instructed
her to drive Simone home.

We said our
goodbyes and then, as Haley backed Simone's car out of the parking
spot, I took a deep breath and walked back towards the oval. I
ignored the stares of the other people in the stands and marched
straight down to the boundary line and took stock of the
situation.

Micky was
nowhere to be seen, Sam was sitting on the ground a little way to
the left of where I was standing holding Jack's jersey against his
nose and the now bare-chested Jack was crouched beside him talking
earnestly. Matt and Tommo were surrounded by the umpires and doing
a lot of shaking their heads which did not bode well for the
results of the match. Realising someone other than Micky was
missing I looked around for Alex and saw him wandering across the
oval towards me with a cigarette in his mouth. I gestured to him
impatiently but the little shit continued his unhurried saunter and
it took him almost half a minute for him to reach me.

"Sorry if I've
interrupted your little bad boy moment," I said sarcastically, "but
where's Micky?"

Alex exhaled a
long stream of grey smoke and then shrugged in a way that made me
want to give him a smack around the head. Thankfully at that moment
Tommo and Matt broke away from the umpires and, noticing me for the
first time, Tommo jogged over while Matt headed towards Jack and
Sam.

"Where's
Micky?" I repeated when Tommo arrived next to Alex.

Infuriatingly
Tommo also shrugged and I began to suspect that the boys were
closing ranks just like Simone had said they would. However, Tommo
clarified his answer slightly by adding, "He took off when you guys
did. Simone OK?"

"Yeah," I
answered him, but my attention was not fixed on him but rather on
Jack and my brother. As Matt had reached Jack and Sam he had shot
Jack a cold look and began talking to Sam as if his best friend
wasn't even there.

A little
trickle of ice slid down the back of my neck and I choked out,
"What's up with Matt?" Hoping I didn't look as freaked as I
felt.

"Oh," Tommo's
mouth twitched with a smile and I felt myself beginning to thaw as
surely it couldn't be that serious if he was smirking, "can you see
that massive hickey Jack's got on his shoulder? We all saw it when
he took his jersey off to give to Sam but he won't tell us who he
got it from and Matt's pissed." His smile widened, his teeth very
white against his dark skin. "My money's on Kristin, just for the
record." He chuckled, although he made sure he was looking neutral
when Jack joined us a second later.

"We're going to
have to take Sam to the emergency room," he sighed raising his
eyebrows slightly at Alex's smoking but not saying anything. "He
reckons his nose is broken. So what did the umps say?" He asked,
turning to Tom as if he hadn't just informed us that one of his
best mates had a broken nose in the same breath.

"We've had to
declare a forfeit." Tom shook his head in disgust and Jack echoed
his sentiment.

"Damn, we could
have taken them too. Sam will be furious."

I glanced
across at Matt and Sam who were beginning to walk over. One look at
Sam's face told me that 'furious' was a bit of an
understatement.

"I'b gon kilb
hib," Sam snuffled when he reached the group of us.

"Which I
think," said Matt as we all looked at him in confusion, "is bloody
nose language for 'I'm going to kill him.'"

In any other
situation I would have found this funny but my lips didn't even
twitch.

As we walked out to the car park I looked around at the boys;
Tommo was grim faced, Sam was hidden behind Jack's now very bloody
jersey, Alex was moody, and there was a certain layer of frost in
the way that Matt and Jack were acting towards each other.
Basically everybody looked miserable and, unbidden, Micky's words
echoed in my head: 'Why does
everything
always end up so
shit?'

I woke up the
next morning with such a leaden stomach that I was surprised I
hadn't sunk right through the mattress and to the floor. As the
reality of what day it was hit me I jack-knifed upright in bed and
just about gave myself whiplash turning my head to see what time it
was. I was terrified the boys would have slipped out early leaving
me, as was the usual case, completely in the dark about what they
were spending the 19th of September doing. I was relieved, then, to
see that it was only 7 in the morning and even more relieved when
my ears picked up Matt's snores coming from the room over.

Lying back down
and pulling the covers tightly around myself I tried to get back to
sleep but I soon realised that it was going to be impossible. I
couldn't trick my brain into thinking that this was just another
Sunday morning, it wasn't possible.

Sighing, I pulled back the bedclothes and decided to hit the
bathroom while the boys were still in bed. I took a risk of them
disappearing on me, but at least I wouldn't have to fight for the
bathroom or go in after one of them. I hate going into the bathroom
after Matt or Jack have been in there. Somehow, and I'm really not
sure how, they manage to completely soak the entire room. It always
looks like someone has turned a sprinkler on in there; with water
all up the walls, spattering the toilet seat, droplets sliding down
the mirror and so on every time they go in there to have a shower.
And don't even get me started on the towels! They are always
sopping wet! It’s like they start to towel off when they're
still
in
the
shower!

Anyway, the
bathroom was mercifully dry and I took no time in stripping off my
pjs and stepping into the shower. I played with the temperature
until I got it one step away from painfully scalding and tipped my
head down into the spray, letting the water sluice down my neck and
back. I stayed this way for several minutes, trying to release the
tension in my shoulders, before reaching for my shampoo.

A while later,
as I was just rising the conditioner out of my hair, I heard the
bathroom door open. We do have a lock on our bathroom door and I
did lock it but it is used more as a way of letting people know
someone is inside rather than actually to keep people out. By the
use of a knife or just a fingernail it was more than easy to simply
unlock the door and walk in. I myself had done it to Matt and Jack
many a time if they were just doing stupid things with their hair
and I needed to brush my teeth or something.

Still, it was a
little disconcerting to hear the door open when I was in the shower
so I called out, "Hey I'm in here!"

Only to hear Matt's sarcastic reply, "Oh so
that's
where the sound of
running water is coming from."

I opened my
mouth to tell him to 'sod off' but before I could he spoke again,
his voice loud so I could hear him over the hiss of the water.

"Come out, I
want to talk to you."

Thrown by his
serious tone, but I suppose, not all that surprised that he wanted
to talk to me, I shut off the water and started to wring out of my
hair.

"Do I have to
do this talk naked?" I asked after a moment when the beads of water
on my skin began to cool.

In reply Matt
stuck his hand around the shower curtain and held my towel out to
me. I took it and wrapped myself up before pulling back the curtain
and stepping out of the tub.

My brother was
leaning back against the sink, his arms folded and his face serious
beneath the fuzz of beard which was the result of him slacking off
from shaving for a couple of days.

"Are you sure
this couldn't wait until I've gotten dressed?" I grumbled, feeling
the shock of cold air on my damp skin even more keenly when not
kept in a cocoon of mist by the shower curtain.

Matt gave me a
look which clearly told me that there would be no cutesy time
wasting that morning. "I'm your brother," he said flatly, "it's not
like I'm looking."

There wasn't
really anything to say in response to that so I shelved my concern
over the chill and sat down on the toilet set, using the edges of
my towel to begin to dry myself off.

"So? You wanted
to talk to me?" I asked, wanting to get the ball rolling and
interested, although a little apprehensive, to know what he had to
say.

"Yeah." Matt's
voice had that husky, early morning, edge to it. "You need to
leave."

So there was
really
going to be no dillydallying around then! I froze,
my hands stilling.

"Excuse me?"
For one terrifying moment I thought he meant he was kicking me out
of the flat for good, images flew through my brain, times my
brother could have seen Jack and me together. I was just beginning
to berate myself for letting Jack put his arm around me at the uni
bar (I mean seriously, anyone could have seen that!) when I caught
his eye and realised that, although he was certainly serious, Matt
wasn't furiously angry or hurt like he would have been if he knew
what was really going on. Feeling some of the terrified stupor I
was in slipping away I asked cautiously, "How do you mean?"