Senior goes silent as he moves around the other side of the kitchen island, making a plate of bacon and eggs for himself. To my surprise, he passes me a plate too. I stare at the meal as Senior takes a seat beside me.
“This is your second fight, Kieran. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so lenient after the first one.”
“The one at school wasn’t a real fight,” I say.
“Nonetheless, you pushed him to the ground. You can’t shove people around whenever they do something you don’t like.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I’m…” I hang my head. “I’m really, really sorry.”
In response, Senior only nods and starts eating. He gestures for me to eat, and I obey, even though it feels awkward. The food tastes like cardboard in my mouth.
When we finish breakfast, Senior stands up and takes our plates to the sink. “I’ll wash,” I say, taking his place.
Senior lets me without saying anything. I can feel him looking at me, but I can’t bear to see the disappointment on his face. Instead, I turn on the tap and fill the sink with boiling hot water.
“I’m going to call your father,” he says.
He leaves me, and I focus all my attention on washing the dishes with soapy water. I forgot to wear dishwashing gloves — I always forget — but I don’t care, even though my hands are turning pink in the steaming water.
*
An hour later, Dad calls me and yells at me for fifteen minutes straight. I take the call in my room and stare at the window as I say, “I know” and “I’m sorry” over and over. Dad says that I’m staying in Easton, though, and that I better graduate without another fight. I promise I will. All I need to do is get through the final term and pass my exams.
After he’s finished yelling, he asks if I’m okay. I tell him about the bruising and the cut, but other than that, I’m fine. He’s skeptical though, and so is Senior, so Senior takes me to the doctor’s just in case.
I’m quiet the whole time. I can’t look at Senior.
At the clinic, the doctor confirms what I thought: my nose isn’t broken, and while the bruising is bad at the moment, it’ll disappear in a few days.
*
Once, in bed, Jasper told me the best way to improve my marks was to do as many practice exams as I could. I’m meant to be completing a practice exam right now, but I haven’t even the started the first page. I’m just sitting at my desk, staring atThe Hobbitsitting in the corner.
It’s Sunday and I haven’t heard from Jasper since the night of the party. It’s not a big deal. He’s probably just busy.
I grab my laptop and open it. If I won’t study, I might as well try to do something productive. I open a web browser and search up Australian universities. I’ve been doing this more and more frequently recently, ever since I had that conversation with Jasper, Juliet and Senior at dinner. Juliet was right — there are flexible degrees that offer a broad range of majors. Now, I look at courses for physical education, physical therapy, social work, communications…
Now that I’ve bothered to research courses, I find that a lot of them pique my interest. Maybe I could get into them, if I don’t flunk my exams…
My phone rings, and I answer it immediately. It’s Jasper, finally —
“I’m getting you expelled.” Then the voice hangs up.
I bring my phone down and stare at it. I don’t recognise the number, but I know the voice.
How did Fin get my phone number? Maybe he asked one of the girls. Or…Jasper could have given it to him. I’m not sure.
Eventually, I message Jasper.
Kieran: Can we talk?
He takes an hour to respond. I shake my knee as I stare blankly at university websites and my practice exam, checking my phone every five minutes.
I’m getting you expelled.He sounded so serious. I want to laugh about it, but my body won’t let me.
When my phone buzzes, I leap for it.
Jasper: Okay. Do you want to meet at mine.
