New Brother - 15. Chapter 15

It was Friday afternoon and Adam and I were playing basketball. Despite the concentration required to make sure that Adam wouldn’t score another goal, my mind couldn’t help but flick over the previous couple of days.

One positive to be taken out of being suspended from school for two days was that Adam and I had gone a long way towards rebuilding our relationship.

Adam’s living with us was a constant reminder to me of why he was there, but when I could ignore that, I found that he was just the Adam of old. He didn’t do or say anything different, so his being gay wasn’t shoved in my face. I could even handle his talking about his boyfriend; it felt weird, but it wasn’t grossing me out.

I still didn’t understand it, but I was beginning to accept it, and I was slowly coming around to treating it as normal -- at least, for him.

If there was a dark cloud, it was hanging over my brother. His outburst on Wednesday night hadn’t been an isolated incident. The next day, after coming home from school, he snapped at Adam when asked if he was still being hassled. Randy apologised soon afterwards, but he was not coping well. He snapped again at dinner when Dad asked him how things were at school. He asks that almost every day, but for some reason Randy took offense, as if what was going on was not anyone’s business except his own. It was clear he needed to unload on someone, but he wasn’t letting anyone in to help him. It was if he felt he had to handle the situation by himself. Maybe he felt that no one could do anything about it, so he shouldn’t burden us with his problems.

Despite those thoughts, I was feeling on top of the world.

While we were cleaning out the garage that day and loading all the accumulated junk into the skip that had been delivered the day before, Adam and I had chatted away, like old times. Somehow, the conversation swung around to Liz. I knew that she and Adam were still talking, but I hadn’t realised that one of the things they had been talking about was me.

That part of the conversation is engraved in my memory:

“David, you keep saying that Liz broke up with you,” he remarked at one point. “She doesn’t see it that way.”

“I don’t know what other way you can look at it,” I replied bitterly. “She told me that she doesn’t want anything more to do with me.”

“That’s not what she told me,” he said in a matter-of-fact way. “She believes you broke up with her.”

“Does it really matter?” I asked, getting depressed. “We broke up, and that’s that.”

“Well, if you say you didn’t break up with her, and she says she didn’t break up with you, then maybe it’s all just one huge misunderstanding,” Adam suggested.

I just looked at him, unable to process what he’d said.

“I spoke to her again, last night,” he continued. “I’m sure she still loves you, but thinking you left her is breaking her up. Why don’t you try to get her back? Just don’t leave it too long.”

“But…” I said, while I tried to think of something sensible.

“You’ve been trying to show me that you’re still my friend,” Adam said kindly. “This is my offer back to you.”

I didn’t think. I just grabbed him in a bear hug, to thank him. After a couple of seconds I realised I was hugging a gay guy, and I suddenly let go. I felt uncomfortable, but I gave him a nervous grin to show my appreciation.

I began bouncing suggestions off Adam. I had already half-decided that I wanted to try to get Liz back, but Adam had just given that plan a real kick forward. There was a real possibility that some of my ideas might work, instead of just being wishful thinking.

The fact that I was grounded suddenly turned into a real nuisance. While I had lots of ideas of what I’d like to do, I recognised that the first step would simply be to start talking to Liz again.

While I was discussing that with Adam, I realised that Fiona had taken it on herself to talk to me, that day at school. I couldn’t remember exactly what she’d said, but I didn’t think she’d ever said that Liz didn’t want to speak to me. Rather, she’d indicated that she didn’t think it would be a good idea for me to speak to Liz. I’d just assumed it had been Liz who’d told her to say that.

After that, Liz and I had each thought the other didn’t want to talk. The ordeal in our Media Studies class had shown that clearly.

As I started jumping around excitedly, Adam watched me, seeming amused. We were still taking rubbish out to the skip, but I found myself full of energy and I couldn’t help getting enthusiastic.

When we’d finished, it was Adam who’d suggested a bit of one-on-one basketball practise. It was a good idea, as it helped me concentrate on one thing, instead of having my mind racing off in all directions. Being honest, Adam is a strong player, marginally better than me. I consider my defense tougher than his, though.

We’d been playing for maybe half an hour, and we were both working hard.

Adam had the ball held low and was trying to fake me out so he could drive to the basket, when suddenly he straightened. I was looking for some sort of trick, but then I realised he was staring beyond me.

“What the fuck happened to you?” he exclaimed in wonder.

I hesitated for a moment, in case he was just acting, but when he let the ball drop to the ground and started walking past me, I turned to see what he was talking about.

Randy was walking up the driveway in a towering fury. A towering pink fury, with his hair, face, and most of his upper body – clothes and arms – all stained pink. Splotches of colour also marked his school bag and pants.

“Luke…fucking…Williams,” Randy spat through gritted teeth. “This time the fucking water balloons were filled with fucking dye!”

Adam and I followed him to the house, our game forgotten. I was getting worried. Not about the water balloons, but by my brother’s reaction. Both he and I occasionally swear, but usually only when we’re stressed. The way he was going off, he must have been ready to explode.

I knew he was more than just angry when I noticed that his hand was shaking as he reached for the doorknob. Whatever had happened had shocked him, and he was still unsettled.

Mum was sitting at the kitchen table repairing a fly-veil for her horse when Randy threw the door open. She took one look at him and froze, slack-jawed and wide-eyed.

“I’m going to have a shower,” Randy announced to the room as he stormed off down the hallway. Adam and I stayed where we were. For me, it was just a case of having absolutely no ideas of what else to do.

“Do you know what happened?” Mum asked quietly, once she’d recovered from her surprise.

“The only thing he said was that it was Luke Williams, again, and this time they had dye in the balloons,” I said, as I dropped into one the chairs by the table.

Adam headed over and put the kettle on. He’d already learnt that when something stressful happens, Mum likes to have a cup of tea. It was at times like this that I could appreciate that little ritual. It gave her time to comprehend what was going on, and to think of a response. I know that I tend to mouth off first, but Mum almost never does.

“Not just any dye, I’m afraid,” Mum remarked softly, as if to herself. “That looked like marker dye, and if I’m right, it’s not going to wash out.”

“Marker dye?” Adam asked, as he waited for the water to boil.

“The stuff we add to the poison before we spray the paddocks,” I answered. “It doesn’t wash away, so we can tell which weeds have been sprayed and which ones were missed. You can get it from any rural supply store around here.”

“David, can you please go up to the shed and check our bottle of dye to see if there are any instructions on how to remove it?” Mum asked me in a distracted tone. “I don’t think there are, but it’s worth checking.”

“Sure, Mum,” I replied, getting to my feet. I looked over at Adam. “Do you want to come and have a look, too?”

“Okay,” he said, before looking back at the kettle. I could see him trying to decide whether or not the water would boil before he got back.

“I’ll make myself a cup of tea, hon,” Mum said kindly to Adam. “Thanks for putting the kettle on. Now get going. Randy was still wet, so he must have gotten hit on the walk home from the bus. I want to know if there is anything we can do before the dye dries completely.”

I kicked myself for missing that detail, but I’d been shell-shocked by the initial appearance, and then by Randy’s language.

Adam and I jogged up to the shed. I spotted an old, empty container as well as the one that we were currently using. I gave one to Adam and I read the other one.

As Mum had thought, there were no instructions on how to clean the dye out of something. The idea was that it was only supposed to be put on things that needed to be permanently marked.

“It says here to avoid swallowing or contact with the eyes or skin. It looks like Giant got hit in the head with at least one balloon of this stuff,” Adam pointed out. “Shouldn’t we warn your mum?”

“I think they’re talking about the undiluted stuff, but yeah, we better tell her,” I responded.

We took the empty container with us and headed back to the house. After I’d had time to think about it, I reluctantly had to admire the planning that Luke and company had undertaken. The water balloons earlier in the week had clearly been preparation for the dye assault. They got to test out the idea in a way that didn’t get them into trouble. Luke normally doesn’t spend that much effort on any of his victims; it’s usually an impulsive or opportunistic thing with him. I was worried. I wondered what had changed and caused him to plan ahead what he was going to do.

Inside, Mum took the container off us and read the warning. She agreed with me that it was probably just for before the dye was mixed with water. The warning about contact with the skin was just that it didn’t come out; it had to wear off – something I knew from experience. Given the colour of the stains on Randy, they hadn’t used a lot of the dye, which is actually described on the container as being red. They’d used just enough to turn everything pink.

I was at a complete loss as to what to do next. I just stood there like an idiot until Adam asked me if I wanted anything to drink.

“Coffee, I think,” I answered hesitantly. “Make it strong, please.”

“Sure, David,” he said, and started to busy himself in the kitchen.

I knew we’d had only a few days together, but I was beginning to learn that Adam likes to keep himself occupied. Sitting and thinking isn’t his preferred mode. He’s a little like Randy in that respect.

“David, I know you’re grounded, but I think I’ll need you to do some things for me, tomorrow,” Mum said, looking up from her cup of tea.

I stared at her in surprise.

“I need to get Randy an appointment at the hairdresser to have his hair dyed, probably to black. That stuff isn’t going to wear off for days. His clothes are ruined, but a new uniform can wait until next week. I’m still trying to work out what to do about the dye on his face,” Mum stated, as if she was working her way through a checklist of things to do.

“I’m no longer happy with leaving Randy by himself. Someone is going to have to stay with him. I need to get the week’s shopping done, tomorrow, so I’d like you to go with him to the hairdresser. I hope I can get an appointment at this short notice.”

I noticed that she was rambling. While she was trying to hide it, I had the suspicion that she was rattled by all of this and didn’t know what to do. The more Mum continued her monologue, the more certain I was. I felt one of my perceptions of my parents begin to waver. Mum and Dad had handled without a fuss everything from Randy being sent to hospital, Adam coming out of the closet, and even my near drowning in the floods when I rescued that joey. Sensing that Mum was unusually disturbed by the attack on my brother was a shock to me; she wasn’t as unflappable as I wanted to believe.

“Adam, if you weren’t planning on spending some time with Scott, I’d like you to go with David and Randy,” she went on, looking over at where Adam was standing in the kitchen. “You need to ring Scott and tell him dinner tonight is cancelled, too.”

“Cancelled?” Adam repeated. “But, why?”

Mum sighed. “I don’t know how long we will be at the police station, that’s all.”

It was my turn to be the echo.

“Police station?”

“Yes. That was an assault by an adult against a minor. This Williams character is eighteen, I think you’ve said before?”

“Yeah, I believe so,” I replied, a little uncertainly. I then nodded my head and continued more confidently. “Yes, he definitely is. He drives to school, so he has to be eighteen.”

“Then we’ll go down to the station and make a formal complaint,” Mum stated firmly.

“Why bother?” Randy said bitterly from the hallway entrance. I hadn’t noticed his arrival. “It’ll just be my word against his: the word a known poofter against that of an adult.”

“You’re not a poof!” I exclaimed quickly, anxiety rising fast at the resentment Randy was projecting.

“You try telling that to half the school!” Randy spat back at me.

I just stared at him. This was not my brother. This was a monster with a personality that didn’t match the brother I knew. His anger must have been slowly growing over the previous few days, as he’s normally quick to settle down. This thing in front of me looked like it was on a constant simmer, just waiting to boil over at the slightest provocation.

At least the shower had had some effect. The pink tint on his skin, while noticeable, was not as obvious as it had been. It looked a little like a case of sunburn. His normally blonde hair, however, was still a flamboyant pink. I hoped that Mum could get an appointment for him, as he couldn’t be seen with his hair like that. Everyone would believe he’s gay.

“I’m not going to the police,” Randy stated firmly, with an edge that was just begging for someone to disagree with him. “It’s a waste of time, and I’d prefer to be here, instead.”

“If that’s the way you want it,” Mum agreed carefully. I could see her watching him like a hawk. She showed no fear, but a strong sense of concern radiated from her. “David, will you get me the phone? I need to ring your father.”

“Sure, Mum,” I replied, as I headed over to the where the handset was cradled. Mum and I both knew that Randy was just being stubborn. He probably didn’t care whether he went to the police or not, but he was just putting his foot down to tell us that he was making his own decision. Mum and Dad both normally encourage that, but Randy wasn’t behaving rationally. It may be that he was still shaken from whatever had happened, and was just lashing out, but that isn’t his usual way of doing things.

“Randy, why don’t you and the boys go out and get in some practise for tomorrow’s game?” I heard Mum suggest in a very neutral tone, as I came back with the phone. She was still being very cautious with my younger brother.

“What’s the point?” Randy retorted. “I’m not going to be allowed to play, anyway. Remember? The doctor said I’m not to play this week.”

“Giant, I need to practise against someone who knows how to play defense,” Adam piped up. “You know David’s hopeless at that. Come on, mate! Give me a hand, here.”

I bit my tongue. Adam was just trying to get Randy out of his funk. I knew he didn’t mean what he said about my defensive skills. At least, I certainly hoped that was what he was trying to do.

As I moved over and handed Mum the phone, I watched Randy frown at both Adam and me. He’s not stupid, and he knew what was going on. I could see him trying to work out whether he wanted to play along or just blow us all off.

When Randy nodded his head I let go of the breath I had been holding. We all watched as he headed off to his room to change into some sports clothes.

“Let him burn out as much aggression as he can,” Mum said quietly to Adam and me. “I’m going to ring your father and ask him to try to contact Mr. O’Conner. Maybe he’ll know what to do.”

“Okay, Mum,” I responded, as Adam nodded his agreement.

I was still rattled by Randy’s behaviour, but basketball offered the best chance of getting him to stop stewing over whatever was bothering him.

Adam and I headed out again, and retrieved the ball from where Adam had dropped it. We took turns shooting, until Randy came out. After that, we played a very tough game of two-on-one. Mum had been right about my brother burning out his aggression. If we’d been playing a real game, he would’ve been fouled out within the first ten minutes.

As we continued, he slowly started to play more sensibly. After a while, it became a closely fought tussle, with Randy dominating, as usual, but with Adam and me pushing him whenever he tried to slack off.

We were still playing when we heard the noise of a car coming up the driveway. Looking around the corner of the shed, we saw a police car slowly approaching.

“What are they doing here?” Randy asked, with a touch of anger.

“No ideas,” I answered, though I guessed that Mum or Dad had asked them to come out. “Why don’t we wait and see? We’ll know in a couple of minutes.”

Randy shrugged his shoulders and turned back to the basketball ring.

“Come on, you two. Just because the cops are here doesn’t mean you can slack off. You need to be ready for the game tomorrow, since I won’t be able to save your arses,” he teased, though with more aggression than he would normally show.

Smiling at the hint of his old personality shining through, I joined him.

“As if we need you, anyway. It’ll be nice to be able to play a game without you and Break hogging all the scoring,” I retorted.

Randy scowled at me. The new monster was back, I noted sadly. I didn’t know whether it was the appearance of the cops that brought it out, or whether it had been lurking just under the surface, but a sullen demeanour had again swallowed the old Randy.

We had barely resumed our game when Mr. O’Conner, dressed in a police uniform, walked up, along with a young constable.

“Howdy, boys!” he called out as he approached. “You’re looking a lot better than the last time I saw you, Randy.”

I saw Randy’s frown and guessed that he was trying to work out who the man was. Given that he’d been unconscious when Mr. O’Conner had tackled Aiden’s dad, he probably didn’t remember him.

“Hello, Mr. O’Conner,” I said, hoping that would eliminate the cause of Randy’s expression. “What brings you out here?”

“Work, I’m afraid,” he admitted sadly, staring mainly at Randy. “How about we all go inside, so I can say hello to your mum?”

I kept a cautious eye on Randy. I could see that he was torn between annoyance at having the cops there and a sense of gratitude for the assistance Michael’s father had given him the weekend before.

“Sounds good to me,” Adam remarked. “I think I’ve had enough practise for now, anyway.”

“Me, too,” I quickly agreed, taking most of the options away from Randy. Unless he wanted to stay by himself and shoot baskets, there wasn’t much else for him to do.

“Okay, Mr. O’Conner,” Randy said, though with some resentment shining through. “Thanks for last weekend, though I don’t remember you helping me.”

“That’s alright, Randy,” Mr. O’Conner said cheerfully in his broad Irish accent. “I was glad to be of service.”

We all headed to the house, Adam leading. I brought up the rear, just in case my brother decided to wander off. He knew that the cops were there for him, but the fact that one of them was the guy who’d restrained Aiden’s dad disrupted his stubborn resistance.

By the time I entered, Mum was already greeting the two policemen warmly. I learnt that the other policeman was Constable Kasprovich, and that Michael’s dad is a Senior Sergeant.

It only took a word from Mum for Adam and me to put a fresh kettle on and then clear out. We were tempted to hang around in the hallway, to eavesdrop, but we didn’t want to get caught. Adam’s punishment had just ended, but with the possibility of being able to win Liz back I wasn’t willing to take the chance of having my grounding extended.

I headed back to my room, aiming to find a change of clothes and then take a shower. As I stepped in, Adam stopped by the door. I looked over my shoulder at him as I started to rifle through my drawers.

“David, can I ask your opinion on something?” Adam started hesitantly.

I paused and turned to face him properly. He was worried about something, but I didn’t know him well enough to guess what.

“Sure, Adam.”

“Do you think Giant was hit because I wasn’t there, or because they think he’s the easier target?”

Adam was clearly concerned, and I guessed he was distressed that Randy was copping all the abuse at school. He was ready to handle it, if it came his way, but he didn’t seem to like what my brother – his brother, too, now – was going through.

“Come in and sit down,” I suggested, indicating the chair by my desk.

As he came in, I moved past him and closed the door. I didn’t want to take the risk of Randy hearing any of our conversation.

Turning back, I moved slowly over to the bed and sat down. I looked up at Adam’s anxious face and saw a reflection of my own worries. Earlier that week, when I’d spoken to him about Randy getting hurt, he’d called it collateral damage and said he’d accept any offer of help. I was getting the impression that he no longer thought like that. In his own way, he was as concerned for Randy as I was.

“Adam, some of it is because you’re not there, but I think some of it’s because he’s not as well protected as you,” I started, trying to avoid any implication that I was blaming Adam for what was going on. “When you’re at school you have several people standing up for you – enough that most will avoid causing problems; people like Michael, Ian, and even Peter. Randy has most of his friends around him, but they’re all thirteen- and fourteen-year-olds. They don’t have enough influence to stop idiots from thinking about an attack.”

Adam made a face and dropped his gaze to the floor.

“Fuck,” he said softly, as if to himself, before looking back up at me and continuing at a more normal volume. “I was hoping you’d have a different opinion. I’d thought the same thing, and I wasn’t happy about it. Luke is four years older than Giant, for God’s sake! How can he pick on someone that young?”

“Luke Williams is a mindless bully. I don’t think he’s capable of feeling guilty about anything he does,” I replied with derision.

“So, how do we stop Giant from being picked on?” Adam asked me. He clearly wanted a solution, and was hoping I’d have the answer. I was unhappy that I couldn’t give him one.

“The only way I can see is to convince everyone that he’s not gay. But all that will do is concentrate all the attention on you,” I said regretfully.

“Yeah, but I’m the one who is gay,” Adam said softly, as he stared into space. “It’s just not right that Randy has to bear any of this. I’m the one they’re supposed to be picking on.”

“They’re not supposed to be picking on you, either,” I said angrily. “How about they just leave everyone alone! That’ll include Break, too, when he finally starts telling people.”

Adam’s attention snapped back to me. I suppose he had a right to look surprised. I hadn’t exactly built myself a reputation as a defender of gay rights.

“Unless he finds himself a girlfriend, soon, and makes that fact public, most of the school will go on thinking he’s your boyfriend,” I continued. “Randy is a stubborn fool. His friends know he’s not gay, and he doesn’t care about anyone else’s opinion. I don’t know what it’ll take for him to change,” I finished, dejectedly.

“I just feel so helpless,” Adam admitted. “He’s taking the abuse that should be coming my way, and he’s not handling it well. What can we do?”

I just shook my head.

“We can’t do anything. Once he’s got his mind set on something, that’s it. For some reason, he wants to shoulder this by himself,” I said.

I noticed Adam staring at me and biting his lower lip.

“What is it, Adam?” I asked pointedly. “Spit it out.”

“He told me earlier in the week that he thought I needed someone to stick up for me. Since you weren’t doing it, he said he’d do it,” Adam replied reluctantly. “I’m sorry, David. I don’t want to lay any more guilt on you, but that’s why he’s doing it.”

I looked away. Adam’s comments fit perfectly with my brother’s behaviour. I’d told my dad that I’d made things more difficult with my outburst when Adam told us he’s gay. The repercussions of that event were still being felt. I was making it up to Adam, though we still had some way to go before we’d be back to where we were, but it seemed I had to do something for Randy, as well.

Randy had picked up a burden that I should’ve shared. He was being too stubborn to just hand that burden back to me, so I knew I’d have to find some way of helping him out, while leaving him his pride. How I’d do that, I didn’t have the faintest idea.

Adam and I talked for some time but came no closer to any solutions. Our conversation had deteriorated into silent frustration by the time we heard a knock.

“David?” Mum called through the closed door. “Sergeant O’Conner would like a quick word with you.”

“Okay, Mum,” I called out as I rose to my feet. Adam also stood up, and we left the room together. The shower would have to wait a little longer.

Mum was down the corridor, looking into Randy’s room. When she turned and saw us, she smiled.

“There you are, Adam! Sergeant O’Conner would like a word with you, too, if you don’t mind.”

“Okay, Yvonne. We’ll go see him now,” Adam replied carefully. I heard the hesitation before my mum’s name. It was something he still had to make himself say, despite constant reinforcement during the previous two days at home.

We walked down the hallway in silence. When we arrived at the kitchen, Mr. O’Conner and Constable Kasprovich were seated opposite a very sullen-looking Randy.

“Hi, guys!” Mr. O’Conner said as he spotted us coming into the room. “Have a seat. We won’t take up much of your time.” He seemed cheerful instead of coldly professional, as I would’ve expected from someone doing an investigation. He waited until we were seated before continuing.

“I have, finally,” he started, drawing out the last word as he gave my brother a small glare, “found out what occurred this afternoon. Before we came here, we had already identified the site of the attack and collected some evidence for further investigation.”

Lowering his voice, he leant forward and added, “You would think they would’ve realised they’d leave a large stained area by the side of the road as a result of using marker dye. There are signs they drove through it, so they may have dye on their tyres.”

Straightening up, he continued more formally, “Did either of you witness the attack today, or the earlier one at the school?”

“No, sir,” Adam and I both answered.

“Do you know anyone who might have?”

Adam looked at me. I took that to mean he wanted me to answer.

“A number of Randy’s school friends were there on Wednesday when he had water balloons thrown at him,” I replied.

“Do you have any names? Your mum mentioned the same thing, but she couldn’t remember who they might’ve been” Mr. O’Conner asked politely, as the constable sat with a pen poised over his notebook.

I twisted to stare at my brother in surprise. He just glared angrily back at me. Why hadn’t he told them? Returning my attention to the policemen, I started to cautiously draw names from my memory.

“Randy said that Maria was hit by one of the water balloons, and that Stu got angry enough to want to chase the people who threw them. He mentioned another name at the time, but I can’t remember it.”

“Do you have last names for Maria and Stu?”

I grimaced as I tried to recall their last names. Eventually, I had to shake my head.

“Sorry, no,” I answered apologetically.

“Randy, would you care to tell us their last names? We can get the information from the school, anyway, but it’ll be easier if you just tell us,” Mr. O’Conner said politely.

Randy had clearly been uncooperative, and he visibly struggled to decide whether or not to start working with the cops instead of against them.

“Maria Henderson and Stuart McMillan,” he eventually conceded, resentment dripping from every word forced from his lips.

After that bit of information had been dragged from Randy, Mum looked up the details in the school directory. Once they were armed with the contact details, the police left. I stood up and noticed Mum in the doorway, staring worriedly at the back of Randy’s head. Randy remained seated, fuming about something and not bothering to move.

“I said I didn’t want to talk to the cops!” Randy suddenly burst out, turning accusingly at Mum. “Now the word is going to get out, and everyone who didn’t care before is going to hate me for being a dobber! Are you trying to ruin school for me?”

His chair flew backwards as he jumped to his feet and stormed down the hallway to his room.

Adam and I exchanged glances. The memory of our conversation was written on our faces.

“Uh…Yvonne?” Adam started hesitantly, as he looked at my mum. “Do you think it’ll be better if I sleep in the lounge room, at least for a little while?”

Before Mum could answer, I put in my opinion.

“I think that’ll make him worse, Adam. He’s given himself the role of your protector, and he’ll take it the wrong way if you move out of his room.”

“I think David’s right,” Mum said sadly. “I’ve never seen him like this, and he’s likely to take offense at any changes. He can be quite obstinate at times, and he’ll just get more upset if he thinks anyone is interfering.”

Shaking herself out of her mood, she suddenly became full of energy.

“In the meantime, I need some help getting dinner ready. It looks like Scott and Chris will be coming for dinner, after all,” she said matter-of-factly.

Mum had us wash our hands and join her in preparing the meal. Adam looked a little shell-shocked at the amount of food Mum was preparing, but she always over-caters. If we run out of food, she takes it personally.

By the time Dad came home, everything was well underway. Mum excused us and suggested we take the showers that we had skipped before, and change into some fresh clothes. It was a pretty transparent way of getting rid of us so she could talk to Dad, but I knew she’d been rattled, earlier, and passing on the problems to Dad would help her cope.

Adam and I walked down the hall. When we got to my room, Adam paused again.

“Do you think you have any clothes I can borrow?” he asked cautiously.

I started to open my mouth to ask him what the hell he was talking about, when I noticed that Randy’s door was still shut. I didn’t blame Adam for being hesitant in going into what might be a lion’s den.

“I’ll find something,” I offered, “but it won’t fit you well. You’ll probably need to get changed again before Scott gets here. Mum has certain standards when guests are coming, and you wearing my clothes may not reach them.”

He gave me a small grin. “The longer before I have to open that door, the better, I think.”

I had to agree with that. Randy might not attack him, if the theory about him trying to be Adam’s protector was correct, but there was no point in risking it earlier than necessary.

I found a pair of loose tracksuit pants and a T-shirt he could wear. I stopped, uncertain, when it came to underwear. I didn’t feel comfortable with giving any of mine for him to put on. The thought of him wearing any of my briefs or boxers made me feel queasy. It wouldn’t be a problem if he wasn’t gay, but he is, and I couldn’t bring myself to offer anything. In the end, I just stayed silent on that subject, and he didn’t ask for any.

I took the first shower and changed into some decent clothes. Mum doesn’t like scruffy wear when we have guests, even if it’s casual and regular guests like the twins. If we have visitors staying for a meal, we have to be neat. For the twins, the standard required is not that high, but my old, comfortable farm-wear clothes, complete with holes, were just not good enough. After years of practise, I guessed what standard I’d need to meet for Scott and Chris, and dressed accordingly.

When I returned to the room I gave a small, and hopefully unnoticed, sigh of relief. Adam had raided the laundry and recovered a clean pair of his own briefs. That was one small crisis that I didn’t have to face. As Adam disappeared for his own shower, I forced my mind away from that topic and headed back down to have a word with Mum.

Dad was gone when I strolled in. I smiled. That was probably just as well. While Mum had been the one most upset when Adam and I had gotten suspended, Dad is usually the one that makes us stick to whatever punishment we’re given. Mum can be a lot more flexible, especially on the topic I was about to raise.

“Mum, can I ask you for some advice?”

She looked up from where she was stirring a saucepan on the stove.

“Sure, David,” she answered, seeming curious, but not overly so.

“Adam told me today that he thinks I have a chance of winning Liz back. I’m just not sure how to start. After all this time, I don’t think phoning her to say I’m sorry is right. Neither is trying to say something at school. What do you think I should do?”

She stopped stirring and put the spoon down. Wiping her hands, she kept a speculative eye on me.

“What were you thinking of?” she asked me, after a silence that seemed to stretch for hours, though was probably less than a minute.

“I was thinking of trying to meet her at the coffee shop in town, and then maybe taking her shopping in Lilydale,” I said hopefully, crossing my fingers behind my back. Mum can be a romantic, at times, and I hoped she just might lift my grounding to allow me to do that.

“A bit hard, when you’re grounded,” she commented dryly.

I uncrossed my fingers. I didn’t know why I’d bothered – crossing my fingers had never worked in the past.

“If I were her, I’d probably refuse, anyway,” she added thoughtfully. “You need to do something to show you’re sorry, first.”

I felt a surge of hope. Mum was treating this seriously. She was more likely to know what would work than anyone else I could speak to.

“I’d suggest a bunch of flowers, with a card, as the first step,” she said seriously.

“Where should I give them to her?”

“You won’t,” she replied bluntly. “You’re still grounded. Otherwise, you could go to her place to give them to her. No, you have them delivered.”

“Can I leave Randy at the hairdresser’s long enough to order the flowers?” I asked quickly, while she seemed in a semi-cooperative mood.

She contemplated the suggestion for a moment before slowly nodding. “Okay,” she said reluctantly, before sternly adding, “but don’t leave him alone for too long.”

“Sure, Mum,” I said happily, as I stepped forward and gave her a hug. “Love you,” I added.

She was surprised by both the embrace and the words. I took that to mean that I hadn’t been doing enough of either, for some time. I supposed I’d been slowly slipping into the Aussie Male mode of showing strong emotion only to a girlfriend. For everyone else, affection needed to be shrouded by joking or just left unsaid.

I mentally went through my finances as I mechanically started to set the table for dinner. Dad’s birthday present was quickly downgraded. I hadn’t worked out what to get him, anyway, and he’s always said he likes anything we give him. This year I might end up testing that, depending on how expensive it gets to show Liz how much I want her back.

Adam joined me soon afterwards, and together we helped Mum get things ready for dinner. Mum raised an eyebrow at the clothes Adam was wearing, and gave me a strange look, but she didn’t say anything. I took that to mean that Adam wouldn’t have to change his clothes again. It was looking more and more likely that Randy was going to stay locked up in his room until dinnertime.

We’d finished getting everything ready, and Mum was just keeping an eye on some of the food that was simmering away on the stove, when there was a knock on the door.

An enormous grin spread across Adam’s face as he jumped up quickly and opened the door for Scott and Chris. Scott entered first, and Adam gave him a hug. I was surprised to notice that Scott seemed tense, as if he didn’t want, or expect, the embrace. Adam didn’t hold it for long, but whispered something to his boyfriend that made him relax and smile.

Adam then shook Chris’ hand and thanked him for coming. He followed that up by asking if they wanted anything to drink.

I saw Mum giving Adam an approving look, which Adam missed completely as his attention was on the two visitors. I could guess what that was about: Mum appreciated the fact that Adam was acting as the host, as they were really his guests. I wondered if she’d had a word earlier, or if he just naturally knew that that was what would be expected of him. Randy and I know, from many years of practise, that when we have guests, we’re responsible for ensuring they have a good time.

While Adam was getting drinks for Chris and Scott, Mum came up to me.

“David, can you please tell Randy that Chris and Scott are here?” she quietly asked. “If he doesn’t want to join us, don’t push him. I’ll send your dad to get him, later.”

“Sure, Mum,” I replied softly.

With a backward glance to make sure everything was fine with the other three guys, I slipped off down the hallway.

I paused outside Randy’s door. I didn’t know what sort of reaction I was going to get, and the uncertainty was unsettling me. I took a deep breath and knocked firmly on the door.

“Come in,” a resigned voice called through the door.

That wasn’t the best reaction, but it was better than a lot of the possibilities. At least he was willing to see people.

I opened the door and entered his room. After taking in the scene, I closed the door behind me and sat down on the edge of Randy’s bed. I realised Mum might wonder why I was taking so long to get back, but I was sure she wouldn’t mind, once she found out.

Randy was stretched out face-up on his bed, with his hands behind his head. It was clear he’d been crying, and crying hard. On the floor beside him were the ripped-up remains of his school shirt – the one that had been stained in the attack. Of all the things he could’ve taken his rage out on, that had been a good choice; the shirt had been rendered useless by the dye, for anything except as a rag. Less pleasing were the schoolbooks thrown around the room.

After a single glance to see who had just entered the room, he rolled his head back and stared up at the ceiling.

I sat there for a few seconds, waiting to see if Randy wanted to say anything. I was about to break the silence when Randy started speaking.

“Why are some people bastards?” he asked. I was pleased that he had asked the question in a contemplative way, instead of in anger.

“You can’t please everyone, Randy,” I replied gently.

“I’m not trying to please them! I just want them to leave me alone,” he replied heatedly, as he lifted his head to look at me.

I raised my hands to ward off his anger.

“Steady! I’m on your side, remember?”

Dropping his head back onto his hands, he returned to gazing at the ceiling.

“Yeah, I know,” he sighed.

“They’ll leave you alone if they stop thinking you’re gay,” I suggested.

“And how am I supposed to make that happen?” he asked sarcastically, before continuing sadly, “And all that will do is drop it all onto Adam.”

“What about that stuff you hinted at when I asked you if you’re gay?”

He grinned to himself, and then reverted to a forlorn expression.

“Can’t do that. It wouldn’t be right,” he sighed.

“Why ever not?” I asked indignantly. Was he really going out of his way to make sure people wouldn’t think he was straight?

“I’m fourteen,” he replied simply.

“What’s that got to do with anything?” I asked, trying to keep my temper under control. Was he just trying to bait me?

“The age of consent is sixteen. If I say anything, she risks going to prison on rape charges,” he answered calmly, but sadly.

He floored me with that one. I’d never even considered the possibility that someone would consider that to be rape.

“I spoke to her about saying something, and that was when she told me about the statutory rape laws. She’s more than two years older than me, which technically makes her a child molester. If I say anything, she’s in big trouble,” he continued. “I won’t do that to her.”

He was adamant on that. I’d heard that tone before. I felt a mixed surge of admiration and jealousy. At fourteen, I’d still been a virgin, and had only dreamt of having an older woman. My brother had managed to do it! Not only that, but he’d shown a great deal of maturity in not wanting to get the girl into trouble. My little brother was growing up fast.

“What about another girlfriend?” I suggested.

He scowled at me.

“I’m supposed to find a girl and fuck her brains out, just to prove I’m not gay?” he said crudely. “Forget it! I won’t be like that.”

“You don’t have to sleep with her…” I started, before he interrupted me.

“Unless I sleep with her and then tell everyone about it, they won’t believe me,” he insisted. “For now, I just want to forget about it. I want my life to be normal again,” he finished forlornly.

I waited to see if he’d say anything else. When he didn’t, I took it to mean he still wasn’t ready to talk about everything. At least he’d acknowledged that I was on his side. That left the door open for the future.

Standing up, I said, “Break and Chris are here. We’ll be having dinner, soon.”

Without looking at me, he just nodded. When he did nothing else, I headed to the door. As I opened it, I heard his voice from behind me.

“Thanks, Stick,” he said softly.

“Anytime, Giant,” I replied compassionately.

I quietly left the room, closing the door behind me. Randy needed some help, but he wasn’t ready to accept it. The signs were good that he’d come around, but I didn’t know how much pain he’d have to go through first.

I went back to the kitchen and found only Mum and Dad. They were talking quietly. Neither looked happy.

“How is he?” Mum asked as soon as she noticed me.

“Very down, but I think he’s getting over it. Give him a little while and he might come out on his own. He took most of his frustration out on the school shirt that was dyed. It’s been ripped up.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “Okay. No loss there. The other boys are in the lounge room. Why don’t you grab a drink and join them. I’ll call you when dinner is about to be served.”

“Thanks, Mum.”

I quickly poured myself an OJ and headed off to join the other guys. Adam and Scott were draped over each other on the couch and Chris was sitting in a chair opposite them. They seemed to be talking about plans for the upcoming Easter long weekend.

As they didn’t appear to have noticed me, I stood back and observed them. Adam and Scott were relaxed – that was very clear. They weren’t as touchy-feely as some couples I know, but I know others that show few signs of affection in public. Apart from the holding of hands, what they were doing wasn’t too far from what guys our age would do if they were relaxed with their mates and just playing around. It wasn’t too much of a stretch for me to accept the scene in front of me as just two good mates who were comfortable with each other. I knew that wasn’t what it really was, but I found it easier to think of it that way.

As I watched, I noticed Adam was regularly squeezing Scott’s hand. Was that to show he was happy that Scott was there, or was it to reassure Scott about something? I still remembered Scott’s fears from the night that I first found him and Adam together. He really wanted to keep things hidden for as long as he could. He knew he could be open here, and with his brother, but the whole thing was still bothering him. Michael hadn’t done him any favours with his talk about gay bashings.

“Stick!” Scott suddenly said, giving me a big grin. “Good to see you again. How’s your holidays going?”

“Holidays?” I replied in mock disbelief as I entered the room.

“You don’t know my mum, if you think this has been a holiday!” I added.

“We know,” Chris said sympathetically. “Adam’s been filling us in on what you two have been up to.”

“Yeah, well, all I can say is that I think going back to school next week is going to be the holiday, even if it’s to a week mainly of exams,” I said with a shake of my head.

I dropped into the spare chair and hung one leg over the armrest. Mum hates me doing that, but I find it relaxing.

We were chatting about various things – mainly school, music and basketball – when Chris’ eyes opened wide in surprise. As he looked past me, he grinned.

“Is this some gesture of solidarity, Giant?” he chuckled.

I turned my head to see Randy standing there, pink hair and all. He wasn’t as sullen as he had been, but he wasn’t any bundle of laughs, either.

“No,” he answered bluntly. “It was a gift from a bunch of arseholes.”

I looked over at Adam, who seemed to be feeling a little guilty.

“You didn’t tell them?” I asked him.

“Sorry, no. It slipped my mind when Break got here,” he replied sheepishly.

Scott glanced at Adam, then me, before turning back to stare at Randy.

“Luke Williams and his mates ambushed me on the way home with balloons filled with dye,” Randy explained, a touch of anger reflecting in his narrowed eyes. At least he wasn’t swearing.

“Shit, mate, were you hurt?” Chris asked.

“No,” Randy replied, a faint smile showing his appreciation for the concern. “More shaken and angry than anything else.”

“What happened?” Scott asked.

I was expecting him to refuse to answer, but I was wrong. He must have calmed down a bit. Either that or, having told the police, he may have felt there was nothing to lose in retelling the story.

“I was walking along the road home, after getting off the bus, when I heard a car behind me,” he started. “I looked back and saw it stopping just after the corner. I thought they must have been lost and had just pulled into the side street to check the map. Shortly afterwards, I heard the car coming up slowly behind me. I stepped off to the side and started to turn to face them, expecting to be asked for directions, when I heard someone yell, ‘Take this, ya poofter!’ There were two guys hanging out the passenger side windows. Before I could do anything, they threw the balloons at me and the car sped up and headed off down the road.”

He paused and scowled, as he looked down at the floor. I could see him restoking his anger.

“I knew they’d be back, because it’s a dead-end road, but I didn’t know what to do. I was still standing there, looking at the dye on my clothes, when the car came hooning back. That’s when I saw Luke Williams driving with the window open and a balloon in his hand. I turned to run away, but he got me in the back of the head before he drove off. The idiot was laughing as he went, as if he thought it was funny. I think that was the one that did most of the damage to my hair.”

“Mum was planning to organise an appointment for tomorrow to get his hair dyed black,” I said. “I haven’t checked if she got one, or not.”

Randy stared thoughtfully at Chris. A twisted grin appeared on his face.

“No,” he said slowly. “I like Chris’ idea better. I’m going to leave it this way.”

“WHAT?” I yelled. “How are you supposed to convince everyone you’re not gay when you’ve got pink hair!?”

“Let ‘em think what they want!” he snarled back at me. “I’ve given up on telling people I’m not gay. I’m almost ready to try to find myself a boyfriend. If I’m supposed to be gay, then maybe I should get some of the benefits, as well as all the crap!”

“But you’re not gay!” I stated angrily.

“Fuck off, David,” he spat, shocking me to my core. “You have no idea what it’s like.”

I was sitting there trying to find something sensible to say when Dad appeared in the doorway.

“Randy,” he said calmly, “Can you please give me a hand out here?”

There was no way Dad hadn’t heard our yelling. I wouldn’t have been surprised if the twins had heard it from their place. Dad didn’t mention it, so he must have wanted to say something to Randy in private.

Randy stormed out of the lounge. He’d seemed calm and collected in his bedroom, but it hadn’t taken much to set him off.

“Giant’s not coping well,” Adam remarked sadly to Scott.

“That’s an understatement!” Chris commented.

“As long as everyone thinks he’s gay he’s just going to keep getting hurt,” Adam continued, locking eyes with Scott.

Scott just sat there, stiff and unmoving. His eyes never left Adam’s face.

“Giant’s too good a guy to go through that crap. I’d like to help him out, if I can,” Adam added softly.

He and Scott just sat there staring at each other. Scott was slowly shaking his head. They were ignoring everyone else in the room, until Chris stood up.

“Adam, we all want to help Randy,” he said, “but just don’t ask too much of us, okay?”

Adam broke eye contact with Scott and looked up at Chris’ stern expression.

“How about you get the balloons, I get the dye, and we all go for a drive and look for some bullies?” Adam suggested to Chris with a laugh.

Chris started to pat his pockets, looking increasingly desperate. With a sigh, he spread his hands.

“Sorry, guys. I’m fresh out of balloons. Maybe another time,” he said sadly, before grinning.

We were called for dinner shortly afterwards. Chris, in particular, was a good dinner guest, with lots of interesting stories to tell. Scott kept most of his attention on Adam and didn’t say a lot. If anything, he seemed tense. Randy was quiet for most of the meal, though he did show a few signs of his old self when the conversation strayed to the subject of basketball.

The night finished late, though Dad tried half-heartedly to end it earlier, with some lame excuse like we had a basketball game the next day. He was shouted down by everyone except Randy, who’d disappeared back to his room soon after we’d finished the meal.

There was another delay when Adam and Scott disappeared outside to say goodbye to each other. Chris dryly asked how long we should give them.

Dad answered, “To be fair, we should give them as much time as David used to take with Liz – say, a couple of hours?”

I blushed, though I’d never taken that long. I couldn’t recall how many times Trev had been left waiting for Liz and me to say goodbye to each other.

When Scott and Adam came back in, I noticed that Scott had been crying. He was still holding Adam’s hand firmly, and had to be prised away. They had been best friends, before, but it seemed that they were moving quickly into a much deeper relationship.

When I finally got to bed that night, I had two things running through my mind: the problems with Randy and my new hope for a reconciliation with Liz. As they started getting jumbled up, I fell asleep.