Dropping In (5 page)

‘Takes one to know one,' Ranga says.

Jess just shakes her head like it was a stupid thing to say, which it probably was, but what can you say when a girl calls you a loser in front of her friends?

Ranga is trying to think of something else to say when all the girls get up. It was like they had some secret signal or something. They all moved at exactly the same time. I didn't see it or hear it but they all knew it was time. Girls
are like that, like a flock of birds flying, turning this way and that to some signal no one else can detect.

The girls don't walk away from us either. They go right past us in a little tight group, kind of contemptuous, but strutting at the same time. They don't normally walk like that. Why? Are they telling us something? Is it some type of lesson we're supposed to learn? It seems like they think we're all idiots and then Jess gives me this sly smile as she goes past. We watch them until they all start giggling when they walk around the corner of the canteen.

‘Idiots!' says Ranga.

‘You ever had a girlfriend?' James asks.

‘Plenty,' says Ranga, which is bull.

‘Have you got one now?'

‘Nah,' Ranga says, ‘I'm too busy training for the skate comp.'

‘What about you, Sticks? Have you got a girlfriend?'

I shake my head. ‘Nuh,' I say, but then that sly smile Jess gave me comes sliding through my mind. What was that?

James takes a big noisy breath. ‘I've got a girl who's my friend.'

‘Yeah?' Ranga says. ‘What's she like?'

‘There's a picture in my backpack, in my wallet.'

Ranga is straight into his backpack, burrowing like a wombat. It takes him about five seconds to hold up James' wallet. ‘Here it is!' He hands it to James which shows a lot of self-control for Ranga. If it was my wallet he'd have it open already.

James fumbles with it for a few seconds and then shows us a picture of this girl in a wheelchair. She looks frail but her smile glows out of his wallet.

‘She looks nice,' Ranga says. He gives James a nudge. ‘You sly dog!'

‘She's not my girlfriend — not like that. She lives down in Bunbury. We email each other all the time.'

‘Where did you meet her?' I ask.

‘In hospital. She was having botox injections.'

Ranga can't resist. ‘No wonder she's so pretty.'

‘Ha-ha, Ranga,' I say, letting him know it's a really bad taste joke.

‘I don't think I'll ever have a real girlfriend,' James says.

‘Why not?' Ranga asks.

James doesn't answer.

Mrs Jones, our science teacher, is away and Mr O'Brien, the biology teacher, is relieving.

‘Turn to page twenty-six in your text,' he says. ‘Mrs Jones tells me you have already covered this topic so I want you to answer the questions at the bottom of the page.' He writes the page number and the topic on the whiteboard and then sits down with a pile of marking from his real class.

The questions are boring, all about levers and forces. I bet Mrs Jones won't even look at our answers. What a waste of time.

James leans towards me. He's got his hand in front of his mouth as though he's rubbing his chin. His eye looks in danger of being poked out. ‘Hey Sticks,' he says in a loud whisper.

O'Brien looks up instantly. ‘James,' he says, ‘Be
quiet! And get your hand away from your face. You don't fool me for a second.'

He looks down at his marking again.

‘Sir! Sir!'

O'Brien looks up again. ‘What is it James?'

‘I need to go.'

‘Go? Go where?' O'Brien's forehead furrows.

James looks down at his legs and then up at O'Brien. He has a please don't make me say any more look on his face. He does this little nod.

‘Of course! Of course!' says Mr O'Brien.

‘Sir!' James says, ‘Can someone come with me, to help?'

O'Brien looks startled, then worried. I can almost see the cogs of his brain grinding over as he tries to imagine what a person would have to do to help James. I can't imagine anything myself, at least not anything that I care to think about. Finally he nods, ‘Who would you like?'

‘Can Ian come? He knows what to do.'

‘Certainly,' says Mr O'Brien, looking slightly relieved.

As James turns his chair towards me, away from O'Brien, he gets the most excellently wicked smile on his face. ‘So long suckers,' he whispers and he tries to wink.

I'm trying not to laugh as I follow James past Mr
O'Brien who has a concerned look on his face. I hope he doesn't decide he needs to help because then we'll be busted. Tension! Then James just thanks him and we're out. I feel like jumping and clicking my heels together as we walk down the verandah of the science wing. Freedom! But what are we going to do now? There are classes and teachers everywhere.

‘So what now?' I say.

‘I don't know. Anything was better than being stuck in there.'

I laugh. ‘That was cool. I didn't think you would do something so bad.'

James looks sideways at me as he rolls down the corridor. ‘Like Ranga would.'

‘Yes,' I agree. ‘But he'd get caught.'

James has that wicked look on his face again. ‘I've got an advantage.' He pats the armrest of his chair and gives a bittersweet laugh.

We end up in the library reading magazines because all the computers are being used. There are a few skateboard magazines, but they're old and falling apart, with pages cut out because there were pictures or articles the librarian didn't want us to read. I've read them a few times, but Ranga has read them hundreds of times.
I reckon his hands have done half the wear and tear on the pages of this one I'm holding. There's nothing special about it: articles about a new compound for wheels that's faster and has more grip, different trucks, photos of famous skaters doing tricks and millions of ads. For a kid who can't concentrate to save his life, Ranga sure studies these. A bomb could go off when he's reading them and he wouldn't hear it.

I'm thinking about getting a book from the fiction section when James whacks me across the arm.

‘Sorry,' he whispers, and then he slides his eyes sideways and tilts his head like a spy. ‘Over there.'

There's another class where he wants me to look. They're doing research skills with Mrs Dearle. She's got the smart-board going. It's something to do with the UN. We'll be doing that on Thursday. One of the girls at the back gives us a little wave. It's Jess. I wave back before I even think about it. She smiles. Shit!

James is grinning at me like an idiot.

‘What?' I say.

‘She likes you.'

Lucky for me the siren goes.

James and I each head to our next class.

‘I'll see you after school. Ranga is meeting me out the front by the bus stand,' I say.

James nods.

I've got no idea why I have to learn French but the next hour passes quickly and, at home time, we meet out the front, load up James' wheelchair with our bags and head off home. At first we talk about the day at school but then we run out of things to talk about and James motors on ahead. Our bags swing off the back of his chair as he bumps over the uneven paving.

When we're nearly home, as we come around the corner at the bottom of the hill, he stops and calls back. ‘You've got a visitor.' He points towards Ranga's house. There's a car in the driveway.

Ranga stares, frowning.

‘Is your dad visiting?' I say.

He shakes his head, still frowning. ‘Dad's still up north. He won't have his access visit until next weekend.'

By the time we're halfway up the hill we can see the writing on the side of the car — Department of Community Services.

‘I bet it's that social worker from school,' I say.

Ranga is freaking out. ‘Shit!' he says. ‘Oh shit.' He
keeps repeating it, over and over again under his breath. I've got second-hand butterflies in my stomach.

We're walking slower now but before we get to the house, two people come out and get in the car. One is that Ms Broadacre and the other person is in jeans that look wrong on him. He should be in a suit.

Ranga's mum is standing in the doorway watching them leave. She looks angry and she's been crying. Even from here, I can see her panda eyes. Ranga grabs his bag off the back of James' chair. ‘See you guys,' he says. He doesn't even look at the social workers in the car as he walks up to his mum. She grabs him in her arms and hugs him, tight, like she'd just found him after he was lost.

They both stand there watching as the social workers drive off. When the car goes around the corner at the bottom of the hill, Ranga's mum kind of shrivels up. Ranga turns her around and steers her into the house. He gives a little low wave as he shuts the door.

‘Do you wanna play my new computer game?' James says. ‘It's a skateboarding one.'

I look at Ranga's house, and then mine. There's nothing much else I can do so I nod and off we go.

The skateboard game is cool, but it's not like the real thing. Nothing is as good as the real thing.

James can't play this game that well, but he keeps trying and trying, even when his avatar gets injured almost straightaway every time. He's never going to get any good. He just can't work the controls properly. His hands won't do it.

‘Why'd you get this game?' I ask. ‘All your other games are puzzle ones.'

‘I like skateboarding,' he says.

Then I put my foot in it. ‘Yes, but you can't skateboard. And this game doesn't work for you either.'

As soon as the words are out of my mouth I want to take them back. I meant to point out that this game didn't suit him, because it was a reflex, handling sort of game, but I know that's not what James hears. Just for a second he looks like I've slapped him, but then he gets this determined look on his face. ‘I just want to do it, that's all.'

‘But it's too hard,' I say. I'm trying to explain what I meant.

‘Everything is too hard,' James says. ‘If I didn't just try stuff anyway, I'd never do anything.'

I try to change the subject. ‘What do you reckon will happen to Ranga and his mum?'

‘Some things you can't do anything about. You've just
got to keep going and see what happens.'

He looks sad and I wonder who he's talking about: Ranga or himself.

Outside, the street looks just the same as it did last term but it's not. It's different. Then again, maybe it's not the street that's changed — it's my life. I'm the same as always, but everything else about my life is getting too hard and I just don't know how to sort it out.

Ranga first: he's my oldest friend and he needs help, but I don't know what to do. Nothing that I can do would be useful anyway.

James is my friend now too, but he takes up so much of my time that I can't hang with Ranga as much as I used to. Besides, he can't do a lot of the stuff Ranga and I like to do, which sucks for him. I can't do anything about that either. Being friends isn't something you choose. It just happens.

Then there's Jess. One after the other, her friends keep telling me that she likes me and she wants to go out with
me. I think I like her. I mean, I like it that she likes me, and I think she looks pretty hot but I haven't really talked to her. If I do ask her out, where am I supposed to take her and what are we supposed to do? I haven't got much money — any really. I spent most of the money I did have on new skate shoes. Loser!

I want everything to be like it was. Ranga and I think of something fun to do, then we do it and it's fun. We get busted, but it's worth it. Simple!

Outside, sunlight is belting down. It's already glaring off the windows of Dad's car. The sky is electric blue like summer, except the lawn is green and I know that if I walk outside it will be cold. I love winter days like this, so what am I doing sitting around here? Maybe Ranga's mum will let him out today. We could ride down the skate park. Yes, today feels like the sort of day where I could finally get some serious air and land one or two of them too.

I should go, but I'm still sitting here, looking out of the window, wondering what it would be like to kiss Jess.

‘Why aren't you out getting some exercise?'

I nearly have a heart attack.

It's Mum. She's standing right behind me. ‘Why aren't you doing something with Warren or James? Are you feeling sick?'

‘Why should I be feeling sick?' I ask.

‘Well, let me see,' says Mum, pretending to think for a while. ‘It's a sunny Saturday and you're in the house, sitting still and looking out of the window.' She puts her hand on my forehead, pretending to take my temperature. ‘Oww!' she cries, blowing on her fingers.

‘Ha-ha!' I say as sarcastically as I can. It doesn't work on her any better than it does on Ranga.

‘Well?' she says.

‘I don't think Ranga can come out at the moment,' I say.

‘What's he done this time?' Mum asks.

‘Nothing!' I say, maybe a bit louder than I need to. ‘What makes you think he's done something?'

‘Well,' says Mum, twice as sarcastic as I was, ‘let me see. Perhaps it's because every other time he's been grounded, he did something.'

‘Well he didn't this time,' I say.

‘So why is he grounded?'

‘He isn't,' I say.

‘Then why can't he play? Is he sick?'

‘No.' I don't want to have to tell Mum about the social worker and Ranga's bruises. It feels like Ranga's secret. Besides, Mum will find out that I knew something and
didn't tell her, but Mum's like one of those detectives on television. She always knows if I'm trying to hide something and she gets it out of me in the end. ‘Maybe he can go out,' I say. ‘I'll ask him.'