Life in a Moment

I'm writing this in between my Uni studies, there may be a few errors here and there, but overall I think its well edited. Unfortunately character thought is displayed in italics but it doesn't look like thats possible here, but hopefully you'll be able to tell when its thought.

I haven't used Works 2003 to proof it yet cause its a work in progress and I keep coming back to it at different times, I cut and paste it in here but it looks like that hasn't messed up the presentation.

I hope you enjoy the first chapter and some constructive critisism would be appreciated.

Life in a Moment

Chapter -1-
And There was no Map

What do you want to be today? The morning sun emancipated itself from beyond the horizon and gradually spread its illuminating light across the city of Warumunga. The sunlight poured through a gap in Trent’s curtains and settled upon his eyelids. Trent grimaced in his sleep and turned over slowly, curling his blanket tightly around his neck. He slowly opened his eyes and placed his gaze upon the digital alarm clock seated on the white drawer beside his bed. It’s red display turned over to 6:15. For a moment Trent stared emptily at the clock, deliberately pushing all thoughts from his mind. However as hard as he tried, one undeniable desire stirred in his head.
I have to piss.

Trent twisted in his bed and turned his attention to the white ceiling above his head. Maybe if I don’t move I’ll be able to hold it long enough. He closed his eyes and tried to empty his mind once again. Moments later the sound of an unknown bird churping sailed into his ears. He was able to pick up the song easily as though his ears were compensating for his sudden lack of vision. Or perhaps he was sub-consciously sabotaging his efforts to fall asleep again because he needed to go to the toilet so bad.

In a defeated monotone Trent quietly mused, “What’s the point?” and roused from his bed. His first foot found a copy of His Style magazine sprawled out across the floor and his second step brought his little toe into contact with the corner of a fifteen kilo dumbbell. “Fuck sake!” Trent yelled in anger more then pain. He prepared to kick the dumbbell then logic set in and he abandoned that obvious path to more pain. Trent reached for his glasses on top of the drawer and then stood before the full body length mirror attached to his bedroom door.

He carefully studied the small photo sticky taped to the top left corner of the mirror. The frozen picture of himself stared back with its pale flat chest and bony rib cage jutting out. Sharp shoulders with broomstick arms dangled by his sides and skinny legs that would embarrass an Emu completed the image a guy seriously needing a Hot Dog. Maybe two. Trent then looked into the mirror. A youth with a thick chest and broad round shoulders stared back. His legs would no longer embarrass an Emu, but he still wore pants for most occasions.

It had taken Trent seven months of hard work and dieting to build up his scrawny body. But he’d learnt long ago that it just wasn’t any fun being a six foot 62 kilo teenager. His progress had been so gradual that no one at school had even noticed any difference until one day after hockey training when he removed his shirt. The compliments had made Trent feel like a new man, but he thought it would’ve been much better if they’d come from girls. He opened the white door and stepped out into the hall, conversation came drifting from his parents’ room as he entered the toilet.

Trent returned to his semi organised room and switched off his alarm clock. The time read 6:23, two minutes before he had to get up. He reached for his dark blue jeans hanging over the back of his computer chair and put them on while staring into his open wardrobe for a clean uniform shirt. Yeah just my luck. He then looked into the dirty laundry basket that sat at the end of his bed and pulled one of his white, blue stripe collared uniform shirts out. He took one sniff and chucked it on the bed as he declared casually, “I’ve got the prescription for you.” His eyes wondered around the floor, settling on a half empty can of deodorant. A long burst of chemicals from the can soon had his shirt smelling like an acceptable combination of sweat and cheap perfume. Trent threw the shirt on and proceeded to the bathroom.

He wet his hands then ran them through his medium length wavy blonde hair. He then massaged a small amount of styling wax through his hair then parted it to the right and used his fingers to create the messy, wavy and curly comb over look he now favoured. He saw it as a reminder of his more geeky days and a transition toward a more mainstream viewpoint. Trent then removed his glasses and put his contact lenses in. He’d always liked wearing glasses, people said the broad oval lenses made him look like a complete nerd but for some reason he liked that image. He knew it made him look like a computer freak but that was how he was. More recently he had taken to wearing contact lenses. Glasses just weren’t cool. The first step to being normal is to look normal. Trent then returned to his room to put on his shoes and collect his bag.

He came down the hallway and entered the kitchen. It had been recently renovated thanks to a loan from the bank. The modern design looked great with stainless steal appliances like the oven and new two door fridge contrasting nicely with the freshly painted white walls and marble floor. However Trent couldn’t help but think that this was the result of money they didn’t have being directed into projects they didn’t need. His mum stood by the kettle in her white dressing gown impatiently waiting for the water to boil. “Hey mum.” Trent announced with mock cheerfulness.
Leslie Godwen looked up from the kettle and smiled as she replied, “Hi sweetie are you hungry?”
Trent shook his head, “No I’m just gonna have-”
“-A protein drink.” Leslie laughed after she finished Trent’s sentence.
The kettle whistled as Trent exclaimed, “You’re still teasing me but results speak for themselves.”
Leslie reached for two mugs under the tabletop as she joked back, “Yeah, yeah, now you can fend off all those supermodels with your powerful arms.”
Trent felt his face flush as he retorted defensively, “That’s not the main reason! It’s a total change of lifestyle.”
Leslie joked again, “I don’t suppose wearing clean clothes is part of that change by any chance?” Trent looked over his shirt, he didn’t believe his mum could possibly smell it from where she was. “It’s all creased up Trent. You need to remember to put your whites in when I do them.”
Trent shook his head and replied, “It doesn’t matter its Friday anyway.”

At that moment Trent’s little brother Samuel entered the kitchen. Samuel climbed up onto a chair at the dining table and placed the toy truck he’d been holding on the placemat. “Can I have Cocoa Puffs mummy?” asked the young toddler.
Leslie ran her hands through her sandy hair and replied firmly, “No toys at the dining table Samuel.” She then opened the pantry and began searching for a box of cereal. Trent took this opportunity to leave. He went to the fridge and produced one of the ready to go protein drinks he’d bought and headed for the door, patting Samuel on the head as he walked by.
“Take it easy buddy, I’ll see you later mum.”
Leslie called out, “Have a nice day and be careful.”

Trent closed the front door behind himself and came to a halt. A frown etched it’s way across his face and he felt pressure and discomfort around his eyes and brow building as his teeth grit together. Be careful? What does she think I‘m some five year old retard? He stared at the freshly trimmed lawn that flanked either side of the cream and grey crisscrossed brick path that lead from the door to the sidewalk. The morning dew had not yet melted away into the surface and left the neatly trimmed grass sparkling with fading diamonds. Trent felt his face relax as he breathed out through his mouth. Why did I just think that? Where are all these thoughts coming from? I can’t remember when this began. Trent shook his head as though trying to physically shake the thoughts from his mind. He then strolled out onto the sidewalk and began walking toward Luke’s house.

The fresh morning air had a clean chill to it that filled Trent‘s lungs and made him feel refreshed. No traffic moved down the quiet street at this early hour and there were no signs of life coming from any of the brick and tile houses that ran parallel down both sides of the street. The chime of birds singing from the trees etched down the street for shade was occasionally interrupted by the bark of an unseen dog that seemed entirely out of place in this serene morning setting.

Trent walked with the ease of someone who knew they were running ahead of schedule down three neighboured before he eventually reached Luke’s house. The old weatherboard house with its noticeable overgrowth stood comfortably in the older side of Warumunga, contrasting no differently to the homes that sat either side of it. The old battered front door with its peeling olive paint sat in the middle of two front windows that sometimes made Trent picture the house as a gloomy monster wanting to swallow him and bring him into its depressing environment. Trent opened the old metal gate and heard its rusty hinges creek for the millionth time. As usual the front lawn was scattered with various toys that seemed completely inappropriate for any of the residents to own. Can’t you throw this crap out?

Trent trudged upto the front door and knocked loudly. He heard banging coming from inside followed by a loud thud. Moments later the hurried sound of footsteps approaching made Trent step back from the door. I don’t need Mrs Taylor’s toxic breath putting me in spasms this early. Nothing like bourbon and smokes for breakfast. Trent always thought of Luke as one of his best friends, but the environment Luke grew up in was different to what Trent knew but he always tried to understand that every person had the ability to create a unique lifestyle moulded from their own experiences. It was almost impossible to define what was right because at the end of the day such definitions were subjective to point of view and that was something that could always be challenged.

The door swung open and Luke stood before Trent grinning. “Damn man I went to the best party on Saturday night!” And it begins…
“Really? Where was it?”
Luke’s grey eyes lit up as he replied, “Come on in and I’ll tell you about it.” Without saying another word Luke turned around and proceeded down the short hallway into his room. Karl stepped into the house and sniffed the air. Those two dollar air fresheners can’t mask every odour. Trent shot a glance at the old two level bookshelf in the corridor to his right as he walked by. It was more covered with toys and magazines then anything else. However it was the ashtray that sat on top that caught Trent’s eye. It was overflowing to the point that cigarette butts now lay scattered randomly beside it. Jee I’m tempted to empty it out.

As Trent walked past the lounge room archway a voice called out, “Hey Trent.” He looked into the room and saw Luke’s younger sister sprawled out on a mattress that lay in the centre of the room watching some random news programme. Trent wasn’t sure if she was wearing a skirt or a belt.
Trying hard to sound casual Trent replied, “Hey Tegan how’s it going?” Trent didn’t mind Tegan, she was a friendly person but he could never relax around her. For one thing she was his best friends fifteen year old sister so liking her was taboo and secondly he didn’t know any girls with her personality so he couldn‘t relate well. But he certainly knew of them. Tegan rolled over on the mattress and looked up at Trent.
“Yeah good, what’d you get upto on the weekend?” Trent felt his mind racing. I didn’t do anything worth mentioning……and why the hell do I even care what some fifteen year old thinks about my boring weekend?
“Nah, nothing really.”
Tegan replied with a blank expression, “Oh ok.” and then just starred at him.
For a moment there was silence before Trent clicked his tongue and announced with a false humorous tone that sounded completely believable, “Yeah….well I’d better go see what Luke’s doing.”
Tegan rolled over again to face the TV and replied without looking back, “Ok then.”

On the way to Luke’s room Trent spotted him in the bathroom wetting his hair. Who the hell keeps kitchen plates in their bathroom? Trent dodged the neck breaking mould on the dark purple tiled floor as Luke declared excitedly, “Man you should have seen the two chicks I got with on Saturday!”
Trent saw the opening and responded, “Did your beer goggles have you seeing double?”
Luke laughed as he smudged some gel into his hair, “Nah man you know Tegan’s friends Tammy and Rachel?”
“Yeah…”
“I got with them man.” Luke then began styling his hair in a similar fashion to Trent’s. However where Trent’s hair had a controlled messy look, Luke’s sandy hair was all over the place. Trent managed a slight smile. Well he obviously wants to boast so I’d better listen.
“Really? At the same time?” Trent already knew the answer but he wanted to humour his friend.
Luke turned around and rested his hands on the bathroom counter as he replied with a grin, “Nah man I wish. It was Johnno’s party and I hooked up with Tammy behind their shed. Then later Rachel came after me and starting going for it so I was like, ‘Whoa, yeah okay.’ Man I was so smashed.”
Trent grinned and exclaimed, “Sounds like you were fending ‘em off with a pointy stick.”
Luke grinned even wider and replied, “You should’ve come man it was heaps good.”
Trent replied with a dull, “Uhuh.” It’s kinda hard when you don’t tell me there’s a party on.

At that moment Tegan entered the bathroom and ordered angrily, “Get out Luke I‘ve gotta get ready.”
Luke joked lively, “Jee Tegan, can’t you see we’re discussing secret men’s business?”
Tegan retorted casually, “Like what? How to jerk off into a sock?” That was another reason Trent never felt comfortable around her.
Not wanting things to get anymore awkward Trent declared sarcastically, “Well I guess I’ll just be on my merry way.” He then slid past Tegan by the door and headed for Luke’s room.

The lime coloured walls of Luke’s room were decorated with posters of cars and girls from the various magazines he bought or stole from his part-time job at the local petrol station. The grey carpet was stained here and there with the reminder of a thousand meals and drinks consumed or more accurately spilt in Luke’s messy habitat. An unmade bed sat in the middle of the room with its head resting on the back wall by the window. A half finished bowl of cereal sat dangerously on the pillow ready to become another statistic.

Luke entered the room drinking a can of coke. He placed it on top of the old TV resting on the long grey drawer beside the door and reached into his schoolbag. While still searching he asked, “Have you got your reference form filled out yet?”
Trent picked up a copy of last months H-Pr magazine as he replied, “Nah I’m still filling it out, I’ll hand it in next week.”
“Yeah same.” Luke produced a crumpled copy of the form from his bag, so far he’d filled out his name and address. “Only two more weeks of this crap to go and then we’re free.”
Trent dropped the magazine on Luke’s bed and exclaimed, “That’s easy for you to say. I’ve still gotta do the Uni exams.”
Luke shrugged back, “Yeah I guess so.” Luke picked up his back and continued, “We’d better get going.”

They both walked down the neglected hallway and stepped outside back into the warm sunlight. By now the dew had melted and left the various breeds of untidy grass on Luke’s front yard cold and damp. Luke lead the way down the narrow cracked concrete path to the sidewalk with Trent following closely behind. The ancient gate slammed shut behind them as they walked toward the local high school. Trent decided to open up a conversation. “So what’s the plan after we graduate?”
Luke replied cheerfully, “Get smashed.”
Trent smiled and chuckled lightly before countering, “That’s not exactly what I meant.” Luke kicked a small jagged rock on the sidewalk and watched it hit the white picket fence of a house next to them.
“I dunno, I guess I’ll get a job working with my dad at the apartment construction site. What about you? Decided on your University course yet?”
Trent nodded as he replied, “Yeah it’s gonna be Commerce but I haven’t picked a major yet.”
“That’s another three years of study man.”
“Yeah I guess so, but I can’t see myself doing anything else.” Trent’s reply had come out sounding distant and as a result Luke didn’t bother saying another word so they walked the rest of the way to school in silence.

“The next two weeks are going to be the most important days of your schooling life,” Mr Ward declared as he paced across the front of the classroom. He stopped by the door and cast his eagle eyes upon the students seated behind their single desks. “Have you prepared yourselves for the final exams?” There was no reply, a few students looked up at their grey haired tutor but most stared blankly at their textbooks or out the broad white framed windows that gave a second storey view of the quadrangle below. Mr Ward removed a few specks of dust from his maroon vest before pacing back across the room toward the windows. “You all have the same amount of time.” He settled his gaze upon Trent who sat at one of the desks against a window near the back and continued, “It’s how you choose to use that time that makes a difference.”

Trent sat swirling a pen absentmindedly with his right hand while staring at a blank page of his notebook meant to be filled with History summaries. That’s true but doesn’t he know we’ve all heard this a million times before? A loud questioning voice snapped Trent from his contemplations, “Mark, what will you be doing this time next year?” Trent gazed over at Mark who sat at the back row with a cheeky grin on his face.
“Oh I dunno sir, probably filling out me dole forms.” A few students chuckled but Mr Ward just stared directly at Mark with a look so hard and cold that seemed out of place coming from a teacher.
“Keep that attitude up and I’m sure you’ll get there, probably much sooner then you’re anticipating.”
Mark seemed to sober up slightly as he straightened in his seat but maintained his grin as he responded, “Ease up sir, it was only a joke.”
“Who’s joking?” snapped Mr Ward. He released Mark from his cold stare and once again took in the entire room. “You have to get this right. Trust me no matter how much you’re going to want to come back here once you’re out in the harsh real world it’s no fun the second time round.”

Trent allowed a small grin to cross his face. Who’d wanna come back here?
“Mr Godwen?” Trent dropped his pen and looked up at Mr Ward. The other students in the class also fixed their attention on him. Mr Ward clasped his hands together and decided to probe Trent with the same question, “Where will you be this time next year?” Trent could feel his heart beating slightly faster as the surprise of being singled out snatched him.
He could feel his voice coming out with a nervous pitch, “At Uni sir.”
Mr Ward nodded, “Good man. Studying what?”
“Ah, Commerce.”
Mr Ward’s response was frank and to the point, “Bad idea. Numbers aren’t where your talents lie.” That statement caught Trent completely off guard and he felt his mind go blank. Everyone still sat staring at him with silent eyes. Are they judging me? As the silence etched on Trent thought he should say something in his defence.
“Commerce isn’t all about numbers sir.”
Mr Ward retorted with growing satisfaction, “Yes it is. That’s why they call it Commerce.” Trent’s History teacher rubbed his neat moustache that still had enough black hairs in it to be noticeable and grinned. Why is he embarrassing me like this? Trent then noticed that his forehead resembled the Pacific ocean.
“That’s not necessarily true sir. Commerce might make people think of numbers but majors such as public relations don’t have a heavy emphasis on maths.” Trent stared over at Kyle and now all eyes were on him. Trent could feel his heart still beating with irregularity over such a trivial matter. I’m so pathetic, reacting to a simple question like it was a gun to my head.
Mr Ward mused back at Kyle, “I suppose you’re right Mr Sender. However remember that in order to get the almond you have to crack away the shell first.” Before another word could be muttered Mr Ward slapped his hand against the lime green wall next to him and declared, “Alright then that’s enough for one day. Get out your revision booklets. Let’s see if we can increase the class average a percent or two.” As those words brought the room to life with the sound of loud chattering and movement, Kyle turned to his left and looked back to face Trent. He shook his finger and grinned. Trent shook his head and grinned back. Saved yet again. “I think you slackers are at your weakest when it comes to left wing Russian policy in the 1940s so that’s where we’re going to begin today.”

“I swear old Adolf is more interested in whether we fail or not then we are,” declared Kyle as he and Trent stepped out of the northern block entrance and walked across the quadrangle, dodging students running in all directions. The sun was well and truly up and beaming down hot rays that had Trent sweating again.
“Yeah I guess so. I wonder how it feels for him seeing a new generation of teenagers coming through every year about to start their journeys when you know where yours has finally taken you.” Before Kyle could respond a group of Year 8 girls stampeded around the two Year 12 students, laughing at a basketball one of them was carrying.
Kyle called out, “Hey watch it!” but none of the girls looked back. He then looked at Trent, “As for Wardy he probably feels like crap. Then again that’s his fault for choosing to be a teacher.” Trent grinned again and chuckled lightly as he stared over the shifting mass of white shirts at the old bench in front of the Social Studies department where his group of friends had camped over the last four years. He could make out Luke flailing his arms as he stood over Tyson and Lewis, obviously resiting some exaggerated story. However his other friends were no where to be seen yet. “I’m going to the canteen, the line’s long enough to have me there til the end of recess so I’ll see you later,” declared Kyle.
“Yeah okay I’ll seeya later,” replied Trent as Kyle turned away from him and proceeded toward the undercover area at the back of the quadrangle where the canteen was located. Trent then began working his way through the haze of white shirts toward his friends.

Trent stepped under the ageing veranda that sheltered those sitting on the benches in front of the Social Studies department from the elements as Luke was coming to the end of his story. “The smoke was coming out everywhere you couldn’t breath eh.” Tyson shook his head as he swallowed a mouthful of chocolate cake.
“You’d think you guys would have that old hunk of junk running by now,” stated the brown haired youth.
Luke shrugged as he leaned against one of the freshly painted green poles supporting the veranda, “It’s not our fault. The Year 11’s don’t know how to work the engine.” He straightened up and ran one of his hands through his messy hair. “They keep stuffing it up and we’ve gotta fix it. It doesn’t make any difference though ‘cause we pass whether that shit box moves or not.”
Trent dropped his bag on the cracked yet smooth concrete floor and pushed aside Tyson’s bag which lay along the long green bench. He then sat down and asked, “Where is everyone?”
Lewis placed his water bottle down and replied, “Handing in their references at the office.”
Tyson chuckled as he said, “You know, in the fours years we’ve been here I’ve never spoken to Mrs Wilson once and now she’s gonna write me a reference based on the stuff I put down in that form.”
Luke grinned as he declared, “Yeah, you know we could just write a bunch of crap making ourselves look good and she’d write it down and sign it.” Warumunga Senior High School had less then five hundred students and yet it was not uncommon for the pupils to not be known by their own Principal. Mrs Wilson seemed more content in remaining behind the closed doors of her office rather then mingling with the students. Luke lifted his hands up and spread them out slowly as he exclaimed, “I can see it now, Luke Taylor, President of the Lawn Bowls Association, Volunteer Aged Care Helper and worlds greatest sex machine, signed Mrs Wilson.” All of the boys started laughing until Trent cut in asking, “Have you guys been studying for the exams?”
Lewis shook his head, “Nah I’ve just been doing homework.” He then took a long drink from his water bottle as if not wanting to be pressed on the topic any further.
Tyson patted his hands on his thighs nervously as he declared, “I’ve done revision but I don’t really know where to start.”
Luke put his hands on his hips and announced sarcastically, “Mate, I’ve been going at it hard, it’s Uni all the way. I’ll be a mechanical, chemical engineer in no time.” Lewis chuckled lightly. Luke dropped his hands in disappointment, he obviously thought he’d just made a hilarious joke.
“What about you Trent?” asked Tyson. “You hitting the books or what?”
“Not really, I’m comfortable with what I know. I don’t think I could take it much further.” His voice came out relaxed and calm but Trent couldn’t shake the nervous feeling that seemed to stem from his knees. Why don’t I care? I could raise my final score ten percent if I used my spare time to study properly. But I just don’t care. The rest of the conversation consisted mostly of back and forth banter on various irrelevant topics before the siren screeched out across the schoolyard.
“What now?” asked Lewis.
“Trent and I have Maths.”
“Back to the shed for me, I’ll probably wonder around for a bit later though. There isn’t anything for us to do really.” Trent grabbed his bag as the stream of students once again running in all directions picked up.
“See you guys at lunch,” he said just as a break in the shirt river opened up to allow himself and Tyson to join the flow toward their Maths class across the schoolyard.

The rest of the day passed without incident for Trent. Although the Year 12 students were faced with their final two weeks, the classes still seemed to run as per usual. A few students displayed lively behaviour in anticipation for their final day, but most were content to continue working on their revision. Trent was unsure of how confident his other classmates were in their preparation for the university entrance exams. Everyone seemed so focused and busy with themselves and their books. It made Trent even more uncomfortable at the thought that he was walking blind and didn’t care.

Luke stood impatiently at the green front gates of the school watching students in groups or by themselves pouring out onto the main road. Cars lined both sides of the long street waiting to collect their teenagers. The cars that were moving had to do so at a crawl as kids walked without care across or down the street in a completely disorganised fashion. More then a few horns were blazed and met with mocking laughter from the unflinching targets and audience. A momentary lapse in Luke’s vigil at the gate to glance at the traffic allowed Tegan and her friend Rachel to surprise him.

“You waiting for Trent?” Tegan pried. Startled, Luke turned to face his sister. When his eyes fell upon Rachel he suddenly felt uncomfortable. Tegan’s friend seemed to blush as she looked down at the pavement.
“Yeah I got out early.” He gripped onto his schoolbag straps resting over his shoulders and made a clicking sound with his tongue. “You guys going back home?”
“Yup, Rachel’s helping me study for a Maths test.” Tegan shook her bag, the sound of heavy books rumbling seemed to emphasise the study point she wanted to make.
Luke smirked slightly and pried, “Who else is coming round tonight?”
With a dismissive tone Tegan replied, “Just a few of the guys and girls.” Before Luke could ask another question Trent stepped through the gates and caught site of him.
Tegan followed Luke’s gaze and said casually, “Hi Trent.” Rachel grinned slightly and shifted on her feet.
“How’s it going?” Trent asked, looking at both girls without focusing on either. He wanted it to be an open question not directed at anyone in particular.
“Yeah good, you coming round tonight?” asked Tegan in an overly friendly tone. Rachel giggled as she looked from Tegan to Trent.
“Luke does need my help with his final mechanics assignment.”
“That’s no fun my brother’s gay you should hang out with us.” Trent couldn’t decide who was grinning more, Tegan or Rachel. Why is she being so friendly all of a sudden? I really don‘t have time for this now. Luke who had remained silent so far decided it was time to cut in.
“Get lost midget. We’re not wasting time with you.”
“You’re a loser Luke,” retorted Tegan angrily and with enough volume to draw several eyes. However Luke had already begun walking down the footpath. Trent looked at Tegan and Rachel without saying a word then jogged a few paces to catch up with Luke.

“Don’t listen to her,” Luke said. However it sounded more like an order then a soothing remark.
“Yeah I didn’t plan too.”
Luke kept walking quickly and both teenagers found themselves pacing along the grass to overtake straggling students more then once. He’s obviously trying to lose them.
“You don’t really need to come round tonight if you don’t wanna,” offered Luke casually as they finally slowed before reaching his street.
“Nah it’s okay I don’t mind. We really should knock your assignment over tonight and get it outta the way.” A few students from their school were also walking down the street, approaching their well matured homes that resembled Luke’s so closely.
“I’m just thinking that it’ll be hard to work with those faggots making a racket.” Trent laughed, making Luke grin.
“Yeah maybe but I reckon we’d be able to finish it in little over an hour tops.” He really doesn’t want me coming round tonight. He couldn’t be anymore obvious about the reason if he said her name. Luke opened the rusty gate once again and once again Trent watched in amazement that it didn’t fall off. I wouldn’t go her, doesn’t he know that? Trent glanced over at the open garage. Mr Taylor’s old white panel van sat nestled beside the family’s 1980’s station wagon. He’s home early? This is gonna be awkward.

Luke entered the kitchen, followed closely by Trent who had once again adopted his solemn and serious façade. It came so naturally to him that he did not even notice his mind set changing until it was over. The kitchen was cramped enough without the large oval table situated in the middle with it’s stained white tablecloth. The yellow fridge beside it would force whoever occupied one of the far end mismatching seats to shift whenever the door was opened. White framed, blue door cupboards and drawers in the preparation area offset the yellow fridge and green curtains completed the variance of the room. Mr Taylor stood by the sink with it’s rusty taps taking a long gulp from a glass of green cordial. He had eyed the boys from the moment they entered without much consideration. He placed the glass down and wiped greasy hands on his red and black flannelette shirt carelessly.
“How’s it going son?”
“Yeah good thanks dad. How was work?” Mr Taylor brushed his thick moustache with his right hand. A habit he had picked up whenever something was concerning him.
“Got to knock off earlier today. A few little problems meant more time for a coldie and a sit.” With that Mr Taylor turned his attention out the window that stood above the kitchen sink and looked as though he would not utter another word.
Trent breathed out slowly and said, “Good afternoon Mr Taylor.” Why does it always have to be like this? He watched Mr Taylor give a grunt and turn his head sideways in Trent’s direction, however his eyes never made contact with his son’s friend.
“Afternoon to you too Trent. I trust you’re well?” His words were certainly well meaning but his tone was flat and Trent thought he could almost sense a mocking challenge.
Burying that thought he replied, “Yes thanks and how are you?” I won’t change who I am because you don’t approve. Who I am? I don’t usually act like this. Trent knew his formal conduct was exaggerated but at the same time he didn‘t feel as though it were possible for him to behave any other way. It was a force of habit that occurred whenever he was in the presence of authority figures who did not like him, or vice versa. Mr Taylor now turned to face him directly.
“Oh I am quite well to be sure.” Trent did not need suspicion to help him conclude that that had been a blatant insult. What’s your problem? I’m no snob, I’m just trying to respect you. Luke could sense the tension, although he would never admit there was anything out of the ordinary regarding his father’s conduct toward Trent. He told himself he had things to take care of with Trent. He had to believe it himself before he could openly say it and continue the charade of good relations between his parents and Trent.
“Yeah well I’ve got some assignment stuff to show Trent before he comes back tonight.” Luke was relieved that he’d managed to kill two birds with one stone. Rescuing Trent from a brewing feud that didn’t really exist in his mind and mentioning his friend’s return that evening had not been intended for a single sentence. So pulling it off made him feel very pleased with himself. Mr Taylor nodded and without another word turned his attention back to his silent vigil out the kitchen window. Trent lead the retreat from the kitchen toward Luke’s room.

The coke can still rested on top of the old TV where Luke has left it that morning. Trent could see that a sticky ring of coke shaped by the base of the can had settled into what would almost certainly be a permanent pattern on the TV. Luke dropped his bag carelessly onto the floor beside the white painted door and picked up a half inflated basketball that lay half exposed from under his bed. He began bouncing it on the floor with the kind of focus reserved for a local team game. Trent dropped his bag in front of Luke’s grey drawers beside the door then dropped himself on the end of Luke’s still unmade bed. Luke’s absentminded gaze drifted over his bed. He abruptly stopped bouncing the basketball and grinned. “Whoops.”

Trent leaned forward slightly and turned his head to follow Luke’s gaze. The bowl of cereal that had rested so dangerously on Luke’s pillow was turned over leaving rice pop cereal littered over a wet patch of absorbed milk on Luke’s dark blue mattress sheet. “Oh sorry,” Trent apologised while standing up. He grabbed the bowl and looked for somewhere to place it. I don’t really think Luke would care where it goes. Trent saw an old school newsletter from two months ago resting on Luke’s bedside drawer. He placed the bowl on top then turned his attention back to the spill. “Aren’t you a little old to be wetting the bed?”
Luke grinned again as he replied, “You did it not me.” Trent laughed and scratched his head.
“Walked into that one.” He pointed at the mess and asked, “What’d we do about this?” However Luke had already picked up a dirty white shirt from the floor and Trent knew exactly what would come next. He stepped aside and allowed Luke to wipe up the mess with his shirt. The soggy rice pops clung easily to the shirt and in a few moments Luke was throwing the makeshift cleaning rag into a pile of random clothes beside the wall with the most posters of bikini glad girls. That piles gonna become part of the carpet one day. He then sat down again on the bed half wondering if there was some other unknown food substance hiding in the folds of the blanket like a mine waiting to go off.

The sound of the front door slamming was immediately followed by a voice declaring, “We’re home losers.” Trent was certain that the echo stirring through the house was enough to have the neighbours wondering if they‘d just received visitors. Moments later Tegan appeared at the doorway pulling on her ponytail. “Whys dad home early?”
Luke shook his head, “You’d get a quicker answer if you asked him.”
Right on his heels Tegan retorted, “I’d get a quicker answer if you’d answer the question.” She crossed one foot over the other and watched Trent momentarily. He shifted and looked down, not meeting her eyes. Tegan’s stare then fell on the wet patch near the centre of the bed. Her green eye’s sparkled mischief that seemed reminiscent of Luke as she laughed out, “Oh I see you two are in the middle of something, I’ll come back later.”
Luke countered obviously without thinking, “Hah, you wish!” and was met with a bewildered stare from his younger sister. Trent placed a hand on his forehead and continued to look down.
“You’re such an idiot,” Tegan said without entirely meaning it, then vanished from the doorway and for the first time Trent could hear Rachel talking from down the corridor.
Luke snapped quickly with a grin, “My wits too quick for her.”
“Not just her,” Trent mused but from the cheeky grin he received back it was clear Luke hadn’t registered what he meant. Trent rose from the bed and breathed out slowly, “I’d better be going now, I’ve got a few things to take care of at home.” Luke nodded but seemed absentminded now. I wish I knew what he was thinking, he never used to zone out. Well not this bad anyway. “I’ll be back around eight thirty.”
“Yeah okay,” replied Luke as he reached for his basketball again. “Tegan’s gay friends will probably be here by then.” Trent felt a sharp and sudden wave of nervousness wash over himself at that thought. He didn’t know why, he shouldn’t, they were younger then him and he didn’t even know them so why should he even care?
“Yeah I don’t mind we’ll be doing other stuff.” By now Luke was once again bouncing the basketball on the floor but not acting so enthusiastically anymore.
“Yeah that’s right. I don’t wanna talk to those fags anyway.” Trent reached for his bag and headed for the door.
“Okay then, I’ll catch ya later.” Luke jumped back casually and shot the ball but allowed it to fall safely on his bed.
“Yeah seeya.” Trent stepped into the corridor and paused for a moment. He couldn’t decide whether or not to say goodbye to Mr Taylor. It’s not worth the effort. Laughter rang out from Tegan’s further back down the corridor and Trent was glad he wouldn’t have to talk to her again before leaving. He barely noticed the mysterious green streaking stain that etched almost a metre down the peeling pink wallpaper decorated with tiny red and white roses. Or the yellowy green patch etched onto the carpet with splotching hints on the wall. Trent was almost prepared to bet his savings that one was from vomit left to crust and dry. He opened the front door and stepped out into the afternoon once again. It was still warm and several neighbourhood kids still in their school uniforms were out playing cricket on the street. Trent hitched his bag over one shoulder and began the short walk home.

Trent entered the lounge room and saw Samuel seated on the red rectangular carpet with it’s gold outline in the middle of the room playing a racing videogame under the watchful eye of his mother. The room was no larger then any other lounge room nestled within the middle class houses on Trent’s street. It had cream coloured walls decorated with artistic paintings with offset patterns and colours that meant nothing to Trent but probably allowed the painter to sell them for outrageous prices as he described his ’grand’ vision. The azure curtains blowed gently from the breeze and stirred the pages of a few magazines resting on the black rectangular coffee table in the middle of the carpet. Leslie glanced up at Trent from the main sharp cornered mauve sofa before the black TV wall unit and smiled warmly. “Hi sweetie, did you have a nice day?”
“Yeah it was good,” Trent said. He then paced across the white tiled floor toward Leslie. “I’m gonna go to Luke’s house tonight to help him with an assignment due on Monday.” Leslie nodded thoughtfully.
“That’s fine, we can’t have you studying on a Friday night.” She then smiled again. “This way you can see your friends and maybe still learn something from helping with this assignment.”
Trent laughed and this time his eyes lit up slightly, “I don’t think year twelve mechanic maths is gonna do much good for me.”
Before Leslie could respond Samuel asked, “You’re not staying here tonight?” Trent looked over at his brother. He hadn’t taken his eyes off the game.
“Not tonight buddy.” There’s shit to be done. “There’s stuff to be done.” Trent decided not to take a seat and instead headed back into the corridor, “I’ve gotta get changed.”
His mum asked as he neared the archway, “Having tea here tonight?” However it sounded more like a gentle order then a question. Trent glanced back but didn’t look Leslie in the eye as he confirmed, “Yeah I’ll eat here.” Then he disappeared into the corridor.

Mark Godwen sliced his piece of marinated steak while asking in a tone that sounded overly casual, “So Trent, how were your classes today?” Leslie darted her eyes to Trent who sat opposite her momentarily before looking back down at her full plate.
Trent used his hand clutching a fork to adjust his glasses before replying in an equally feigned calmness, “Yeah it was good.” He spun the fork idly with two fingers and a thumb as he continued, “But there really isn’t anything else they can teach us now. It’s purely revision work.” Mark ran a hand down his green and grey striped tie then tugged on the end thoughtfully.
“Well that can’t be true. There’s always something you can learn.” Mark looked as though he was about to continue but Trent decided to cut in.
“Maybe, but I think I’ve put in enough effort to say I‘m nearly at my limit. I just have to wait for the test.” The dining room seemed to centre around Trent and Mark Godwen exclusively now. Samuel’s efforts to cut his meat went unobserved by the rest of the family and although hovering beyond the conversation Leslie’s eyes were taking on every detail between her two men.
“You never wait for anything son,” lectured Mark. His tone had become hard and arrogant now as though he knew everything and Trent was just an innocent fool who thought his tiny fraction of knowledge meant anything compared to his father’s. “Time passes no matter what you do. It’s how you choose to use that time that makes a difference.” You think you’re so smart, like everyone else is a wondering idiot next to you. Trent wasn’t sure what came over him, he seemed to be speaking before he knew what he wanted to say.
“I suppose you know everything about present day school methods.” His words were not very harsh, it was his mocking tone that seemed to belittle his fathers wisdom that hit home. Mark’s bluey grey eyes glazed over and his jaw became tight. Samuel had stopped wrestling with his steak and was just staring at his father. Mark opened his mouth but Leslie cut in swiftly, “Your advice makes sense Mark and Trent has been trying really hard.” She placed a soothing hand in Mark’s and felt him rub it gently with his thumb. Mark breathed out with a sigh and nodded, his anger seemed to have melted away with Leslie’s touch.
“I’m just saying to use your time wisely Trent and study hard. You want to be somebody one day. Achieve something worthwhile.” Trent nodded but didn’t look up. You forgot to mention achieve something worthwhile in your opinion.
“I will dad.” He wanted to leave it at that but all eyes were still on him expecting more. “One day I will.”