The high schools in the area have a mini-league, in which the schools play each other. Because there’s only Easton Grammar, Easton High and a couple of others from nearby towns, usually the two biggest schools — us and Easton High — have to produce multiple teams.
“Mum says I can’t play this year, gotta focus on school,” Ethan says, “but I reckon I can convince her to let me.”
“Woo! So, how about it, Aaron?” Ricky asks.
“Uh…”
The truth is, I don’t like football. I don’t think it’s very fun, and when I’m playing, my biggest goal is trying to blend into the team. I don’t take risks because I don’t want to fumble the ball, embarrass myself, or disappoint my teammates.
The more I think about it, the more I dislike football, but the trouble is that my friends think I love it. That’s because, back in Year 7, when I first started high school and was put in a class with Ricky and Ethan, when they asked me whether I liked footy, I just said yes because I thought that was the answer they wanted to hear. And there was nothing I wanted more than to fit in.
Six years later and I haven’t owned up to the lie.
“I’ll think about it,” I say. “I should focus on school, too.”
“What?” Ricky exclaims. “But you’ve never cared about grades.”
I bristle. “I care. A bit.”
“Yeah, but…are you even going to uni? You never talk about this kind of stuff. I figured you just wanted to get high school over with.”
That was true, but…
“You gotta have a hobby,” Ethan says. “You can’t spend the whole year only studying.”
“I won’t only study. I’ll hang out with you guys, and I’ll work at my fam’s shop.” And besides, I do have hobbies. They’re just hobbies neither of them know about.
Sometimes I wonder if I’m a bad person. I’m definitely deceitful, but it’s not like I lie about important things. If I lie, it’s only to be agreeable — to pretend that I share the same interests, to not hurt anyone’s feelings. If I lie, it’s only to protect myself — because if I was totally honest all the time, if others saw the real me, then people would turn their backs on me, and I’d be left alone.
So I’ll do anything to keep my friends and people liking me. Then, when I move to the city, I’ll start telling the truth. Surrounded by all types of diverse people with diverse interests, I’ll be myself.
I’ll be a brand new person.
So yeah, maybe I’m a liar, but I’m not evil. At least, that’s what I tell myself.
When the bell for homeroom rings, I head off. Ricky and Ethan ask where I’m going — usually, they linger until the very last minute — but I pretend I’ve got something to discuss with my homeroom teacher.
Once I’m in my homeroom room, one of the study rooms connected to the library, I sit at the back of the class and take out the letter.
R,
My mum going through my things does suck, and I do hate it. I’m not that used to it. She only started fairly recently because of a debacle that happened that I don’t want to get into. It’s not as if I had much to hide anyway. I don’t text that many people. As for my internet history, I use a VPN and always wipe my searches. Not that I’m searching forthatkind of content. I just want to have my privacy. For example, I’ll research things related to my plans for after I graduate, and I don’t want my mum to see that. At least, not until everything is firmly set in stone.
I agree — hedgehogs are way cuter than guinea pigs. But I’ve always been partial to bunny rabbits myself. I used to have one when I was little until I took it out to play in the backyard, and it escaped under the fence. Mum didn’t let me have a pet again after that.
I wasn’t making a move! Or maybe I was, I don’t know. It’s not like I was planning to ask you to kiss. I just liked touching you, and I was attracted to you even though I couldn’t see you. To your voice and your personality and later when we kissed, to the shape of your body. Now that I’ve written that down, I’m afraid I’m the forward one. I hope I’m not making you uncomfortable by discussing this, but when I recall the memory, I think you must’ve enjoyed it too, right? I wonder if you also wish we could do it again.
-F
I suck in a sharp breath and glance around, but the only other people who have joined the room are three popular girls named Tiana, Alison and Sana, and they’re not paying attention to me.
I press my palms to my cheeks and find that my skin is hot. Damn. Words are making me blush. How is that possible?
I want to write back immediately.Of course, I enjoyed it, and of course, I want to do it again.But I force myself to takea moment. I don’t want my response to sound incoherent and lust-fuelled. I don’t want F to infer the blush in my crazed words or to think I’m a horny pervert.
The tragic thing is, we’ll probably never have the chance to kiss again. Ethan's party was the perfect set of circumstances. If we were to do it again, we’d need a dark room and a way to disguise our voices; the whole thing is impossible.
The rest of my homeroom pours into the room, along with the homeroom teacher, Mrs Burke. I should dismiss the idea and focus on the school’s daily announcements. But instead, I can’t let go.
