Everything is Changed (19 page)

‘But they have no leads,' says Jake.

‘Shit.'

‘Alex. Did you hear me? They have no leads.'

‘So?'

I look up and see Jake's eyes. They look blacker than they've ever been.

‘Maybe if we just …'

‘Keep quiet?' I say.

‘Yeah.'

I shake my head. ‘We can't. Can we?'

‘They have no leads.'

I push Jake's phone toward him. I don't want the phone. I don't want any evidence of this. ‘No leads?'

‘Nope. None,' he says, playing with his phone instead of looking at me.

‘So nobody saw anything?'

He shrugs. ‘Guess not.'

‘We had our hoodies down, didn't we?' I can't believe I'm saying the words.

‘Yeah. And it was dark. The streetlight was blown, remember? Nobody knows. Just us.'

Relief floods my body. Nobody knows. Just him and me. Best friends.

‘I don't know, Jake. Maybe we really should go to the police …' I say, wanting him to talk me out of it, but also wanting to be the person who knows what the right thing to do is.

‘Okay,' he says, surprising me. I look up and he's watching me. And in a second, I realise we're tied together now. Forever.

I nod, still trying to force his hand. ‘Okay.'

‘Let's go,' says Jake, sounding so different to the way he'd sounded only seconds ago.

I feel like I'm being played. ‘What, right now?'

‘Yeah. Now.'

‘Okay.'

We both stand still. I'm not sure what we're waiting for. But neither of us will move first. Then Jake nudges me and the feeling of his arm on mine is strange. It doesn't feel like it did yesterday.

‘He's still alive, isn't he?' I say, holding on to that thought.

‘Yeah. ICU,' he says.

‘That's bad, right?' I sound like an idiot. As if ICU can be a good place to be.

‘It was an accident,' says Jake.

‘Yeah,' I say. ‘It was.'

‘Nobody's fault,' he says.

Fault. I don't want to think about fault. And suddenly I'm vomiting all over the ground, on my shoes. It all just pours out. A hand rubs my back. My friend is rubbing my back like no matter what, he's here.

jake

The roundabout turns and I feel giddy. I lie back on the metal base, watching the sky spin in black. I laugh and Alex joins in. Then Alex leaps onto the roundabout and flops down as we keep turning in the night. Even though I know it will stop eventually, I like the feeling that in this second everything else is on hold. That Alex can't hurry in front. That I can't drop behind. And that something can't pull between us to change things. Here, we are exactly the same.

It's only as the roundabout starts to slow, that Alex rolls onto his side and says quietly, ‘Can you believe we're moving soon?'

I don't know what to say. So I close my eyes and hope the dark hides the look on my face. ‘Yeah?' I manage.

‘You should see the house. It's huge,' he tells me.

‘Nice one,' I say, not meaning it.

‘Liar,' he says.

I can't answer. I don't know what to say, how to frame my words without them sounding stupid. So I pretend I'm looking at the park instead, at our old meeting ground. The place we come to late at night when we're supposed to be doing homework or sleeping. Instead we go in the tunnel or on the swings, or lie on the old roundabout and watch the stars. I don't even know why we still come here. Mum doesn't care if we hang out at ours, and as long as Alex's dad isn't home, then his place is fine too. Sometimes his dad doesn't make me feel very welcome.

‘Nothing's going to change, Jake.'

‘But you won't be round the corner,' I say into the dark, embarrassed that I sound so hurt. ‘And you won't be at school.'

‘I can stay at yours. And the new place is so big that if you stay over, we won't even see the folks.'

‘If?'

‘Idiot. You know what I mean,' he says, jumping up and tumbling off the roundabout, falling onto his hands.

I kick my legs out and give a little push with my feet, making the roundabout spin slowly. I don't want to follow. I want time to roll back, to where I thought there was a chance we'd end up here. Together.

‘Catch,' yells Alex as he lobs a squashed beer can in my direction. Thinking quick, I catch it and the warm stale beer dregs dribble down my arm. ‘Ergh,' I shout, using my t-shirt to wipe my sticky skin.

‘Sorry. Thought it was empty.'

It's not even our beer can. Just one left in the park, like everything else. Like the homemade bong. Some kid's dummy. Jumpers. Sun hats. Sunscreen. And a million plastic containers smeared with old bits of food.

‘Can't believe you're changing schools.'

‘Dad showed me the brochure … there's even rowing,' says Alex, in an unfamiliar voice.

‘Yeah? Who gives a shit? Only poxy losers want to row.'

‘I know,' laughs Alex, pretending to agree with me.

‘You'll end up like Macka and Ollie,' I say, thinking how strange it is that I'm using two of our old friends as examples. Like they are the worst things about leaving to go off to some private school. I know it probably sounds like I'm jealous, but I'm not. I just don't want things to change.

‘As if. Anyway we could both go.'

Now I jump up, knocking the roundabout behind me like I'm knocking into Alex. We both know I can't go.

‘You're right. I won't go. I'll stay here,' he says, making me turn around. ‘We can finish high school together. Like we always said. Go to Surfers Paradise for Schoolies.' He smiles at me in the dark and I can just see the corners of where it stops.

‘As if your dad will let you,' I say, kicking the beer can along the ground and wondering what will happen to me when Alex leaves.

‘Let's go down the hill,' he says, like he's begging me to stay.

‘It's late. I'm tired,' I lie.

‘Since when do you care about sleep? You never sleep.'

It's true. I don't sleep much. But I feel strange now that Alex's reminded me he's moving. I'm not sure where I fit into that.

‘Come on, Jake,' he says, grabbing my arm and pulling me towards the freeway. ‘Let's get into trouble.'

‘As if,' I say, knowing how unlikely that is, but still letting him pull me through the gate of the park and out onto the road.

‘Sass is really excited. She can't wait to start at her new school. Think she just wants to wear a straw hat,' he says.

‘Do you have to go?'

‘Yeah,' says Alex. ‘I tried everything. Even told Dad it was a waste of money. Not like it's going to matter getting high ATAR scores if I want to be an actor, is it?'

‘As if he's going to let you be an actor.'

Alex looks straight at me, his eyes shining in the dark. ‘As if he can stop me. My life, Jake, not his.'

I nod. I like it when Alex talks like this. It makes me hope. We skim around the side of a house, and a cat scurries past, scaring the shit out of me.

‘I hate that cat.' Alex sounds angry. ‘That's the one that bit Lottie.'

‘You don't know that.'

‘Yeah, Sass saw it threatening Lottie one night.'

I laugh because it sounds like the cat had a knife, not a claw. Alex joins in.

We stop when we reach the path to the overpass.

‘Up or down?' he says.

‘Down,' I say, preferring watching the cars on the freeway at close range than from the overpass.

‘Nah, let's go up. We never go up.'

‘Why'd you ask then?'

‘Just trying to be democratic.'

I laugh to be friendly, but it irritates me that we're always doing what Alex wants to do. Even when it's something unimportant like which path to take. We turn to the right, taking the gravel path that leads to where the bridge arches over the freeway. It's totally empty at this time of night. During the day people ride bikes across it, but now, it's like this weird concrete path of darkness up high in the air. There's a light at the other end, but this side is all shadowy.

Alex has launched ahead of me and is sort of propped up on the rail in the middle, leaning over.

‘No cars.' He sounds disappointed. But he's right. In peak hour the cars move so slowly you could spit on one and hit it.

‘Rest of the world's asleep.' I step up next to him, but keep my feet on the ground. I can only just see down onto the eight lanes of emptiness under us.

I bend over and scoop up a handful of stones.

‘Let's play a game,' I say, feeling daring.

‘Nah,' he says. ‘Let's go home and watch a movie.'

‘Boring. You wanted to come up here.'

‘Yeah, but now I want to go,' he says, looking over at me.

It's come to this. And I'm not budging until I'm ready.

‘Go on. Chuck the stones. I dare ya,' I say.

He grins in the dark. I can see his teeth shining. ‘What are you, three?'

I shrug. ‘I'm bored. That's what.'

‘What if you hit a car?'

‘No chance. Not unless we're aiming for one,' I tell him.

‘You sure?'

‘Yeah. Think about the odds. There are hardly any cars around at this time of night on a weekday. It's basic maths,' I say confidently.

‘But I thought Mr Capuano always said you have to allow for chance,' says Alex.

I laugh. ‘You do listen after all.'

‘Yeah. Sometimes.'

‘Okay, to prove how confident I am with this theory, I'll drop the first rock,' I say.

I check the freeway behind me. It's clear of cars. And I throw the rock. We both lean over the edge to watch it drop down onto the ground. ‘See?'

He sighs. ‘Go on then, give me one.'

I drop the stones into his hand like rain and he tosses the whole lot over the side in one go. It's such an Alex thing to do. I laugh at how stupid it is. He brushes his hands on his jeans, cleaning them, and I realise he's done with this, with here. And I have to stop him from leaving, keep him here for a bit longer just so he knows what we've got.

‘We aren't finished,' I say.

‘It's kinda dumb.'

‘Or fun.'

‘Definitely dumb.'

‘Yeah, but dumb is okay sometimes. Isn't it?' I say to the back of his head.

And then I watch him as he runs back towards the darkened end of the overpass.

‘What are you doing?' I yell into the night. Nobody can hear me. On one side it's all trees and bushy scrubland, and on the other there's a big wall between the freeway and the houses. He comes back with a handful of larger rocks that he's picked up from the path. He drops them at my feet and tosses the one in his hand down at the grassy median strip. Of course he hits it on the very first go.

‘Score,' he yells, making me laugh, and then hands me a rock. My turn next. I do it without thinking and it seems to land just near his. Not that we can see exactly where they are, of course, because they get swallowed up in the shadows as soon as they land.

Then a car comes flying under the overpass, its lights flicking across the road and then disappearing like a comet down the freeway.

‘That'll be you soon,' I say. ‘Leaving in a trail of dust.'

‘Hardly.'

‘Leaving, though,' I say, my voice sounding bitter.

‘You throwing this or what?' He picks out a rock that's slightly bigger than the others and hands it to me. It feels like a piece of concrete. It's not round or smooth like the other rocks were. This one feels like it's the business. I shake my head and hold it out to him. ‘Nah. You do it,' I say, angry that soon I'll be here on my own. He pulls a face I've seen a million times before. A sort of pleading, joking, cajoling face that has always gotten him what he's wanted, specially with other people's parents. I used to call it his acting face, because he can channel the emotion he knows an audience wants to see. But it's not going to work on me. I don't say anything. I just don't take the rock.

Then finally he shrugs like he's tired of the game and winds up like he's chucking a discus, spinning in a circle before he hurls the rock so hard that it flies through the air in a beautiful arc. And together we lean over and watch as it drops down like it's all in slow motion, only it's not, because out of nowhere comes a speeding car. And the rock smashes straight through the windscreen as the car shoots out from under the overpass and then it swerves across the empty lanes and collides headfirst into the concrete wall at the side of the freeway.

‘Fuck,' says one of us. And then the other.

‘What the fuck?' says Alex as he looks from the road to me and back, while I just stare down, silent. And then Alex is grabbing my arm and pulling me from the rail.

‘Run,' he says into my ear. And I do. I run. And I run. And I run.

Gasping, I slam through the playground gate and lunge for the tunnel, as if somehow that short squat tube will keep me safe. Alex comes flying in behind me and we wedge in tight.

I can hear his breathing. And I wonder if mine sounds so ragged, so desperate.

‘Shit,' he says, low.

‘Yeah. Shit.'

I hit my head against the curve of the pipe and slump down even lower, like we used to when we were still in primary school and hiding from Sass.

He breathes out. ‘I reckon it'll be fine. Don't ya reckon?'

I can feel Alex's eyes boring into the side of my head, waiting for me to agree, but I keep staring straight ahead, looking at the silver scribble of words on the concrete, where some kid wrote their name in big block letters.

‘Jake? It'll be all right? Yeah? It will.'

And he knocks me with his shoulder. Not hard. Just a shove, like he's waking me up. I start nodding wildly, coming out of whatever trance I'm in. I hear the crash in my head. ‘Yeah. I reckon. It'll be fine.'

He nods, relief everywhere. ‘Yeah. I reckon you're right. It'll be fine.'