Fragments (Running On Empty Book 1) Page 4

  “Shut up, you moron. We weren’t gossiping...much. I was just stargazing. Where’s your boyfriend, anyhow?” I loved teasing the boys by inferring they were more than friends. What better way to emasculate them?

  “Robbie has gone for a ‘walk’—” He used his fingers to make the air quotes, “—so it’s not safe to go for a walk myself. I might see or hear something I can never un-see or un-hear again. Mind if I join you, Bea-Bea?” I wrinkled my nose in disgust. I did not want to think about what Robbie was doing. He approached the rug, not waiting for me to respond.

  I patted the rug and muttered, “Suit yourself, ‘tis a free country.” Alex lay beside me with his arms behind his head. He looked pensive, as though he had a lot on his mind.

  “You okay?” I asked, turning to look directly at him. Without looking back at me, he rambled, “Peachy. I just need a moment. Too much racing around in my head, Bea. Not really ready to go home yet. The races were today, so…”

  A haunted look fell upon his face and I quickly changed the subject. I knew what going home meant for him.

  “You keen to go for a run tomorrow? I want to see if I can bust out a seven-kilometre.”

  He nodded and continued looking up at the sky.

  Each Sunday, Alex and I had gotten into the habit of running. I used to run alone with our dog, Pret, then one day Alex silently joined me. We never spoke, just ran the perimeter of our side-by-side properties. Alex would meet me at the back door at eight am and then we would take off. If one of us hadn’t turned up by eight fifteen, the other person would just go alone. I rarely ran by myself, though.

  I knew, however, that Alex would only meet me at our place. I could count on one hand how many times I had visited Alex’s house. I had once made the mistake of going there to find him and never again would I do that. A few months back, I had waited for Alex and when he hadn’t turned up, I jogged with Pret to go and see if he was coming. The house next door was a modest farmhouse, hidden behind the hedge that surrounded it. As I’d jogged closer, I’d heard the faint murmur of voices, and it wasn’t until I’d reached the side of the hedge that faced the window that I saw Alex’s dad with a horse whip in his hand, attacking his mother. It wasn’t just the fact that he held onto the whip—it was the look of utter glee. As she cowered before him, I could see Alex with his arms raised, pleading for him to stop. His father continued to beat his wife, and then abruptly turned, yelling, “You fuckin’ cunt, I lost all my money on the dogs! You think you can stop me in MY FUCKIN’ house! This is MY HOUSE? I will do what I FUCKIN’ WANT!” Turning, he clocked Alex in the jaw. I’d gasped, putting my hand over my mouth, praying that he didn’t hear me. Alex’s hand had gone up to his face, but not before he’d turned and spotted me. I’d frozen, unsure of what to do. His gaze had turned apologetic and his eyes had pleaded with me to turn and leave. Before his father noticed, I’d fled and ran off home, with Pret trailing behind me into our house where I’d burst into my bedroom.

  Later that afternoon, I’d heard Robbie chatting to Mum in the kitchen, saying that he’d missed an epic party with Alex last night. Apparently, some thugs had jumped Alex on his way home. I’d never said a word.

  The next time I saw him, we didn’t speak of it. It was as though his home life did not exist, and my heart ached to comfort him. With small steps, though, I would try to help him heal as I hoped he eventually would.

  Alex’s words brought me back to the present. “Yeah, you could do seven kilometres no sweat, Bea. I’ll meet you here, okay?” It was the undertone of his voice that left the unmentioned alone.

  “Sounds good, Al. You staying here or headin’ home? Mamma has the spare room done up if you want to wait up for Robbie?”

  Ever since I saw into Alex’s real home life, I worried about him going home. I just wanted Alex to be safe.

  “Thanks, but I better be off. See you tomorrow.” With that, he got up and walked into the night. I got up on my haunches and watched him go. When I couldn’t see him anymore, I folded up the picnic rug and headed inside. I hoped his dad would leave him alone tonight and that we’d still hang out tomorrow morning. Tomorrow was going to be another blistering day, and the run was calling to me.

  Chapter Three

  “H”

  Tool

  Alex

  Waking up in a quiet house always made me feel better. I usually kept my phone on vibrate, stashing it under my pillow to wake just myself up and not the whole household. Depending on how my dad was after the races, there was no way that I wanted to make a racket. You just never knew. Groaning while stretching, I rolled and looked out my window towards Bea’s house. A run would do me good. I turned and stood by my bed, gave my balls a well-earned scratch and headed towards the bathroom. Early mornings sucked, but I’d rather be anywhere than here. I needed to go out, all the fucking time.

  I walked quietly towards the kitchen, hoping there was enough milk for breakfast, though even if there was, there still had to be enough for him. It was better to go without than deal with him losing his shit over fucking milk. Not spilled milk, ironically.

  Today, I was in luck as yep, there was enough for all of us. Standing in our kitchen, the sense of belonging didn’t grab me. Our house was like a museum-everything had its place, and it always exuded a division between you and it.

  I ate my cereal quickly, mentally planning out my day. Final exams were soon and I wanted to ace them again. The better it went, the more chance I had at winning a scholarship and getting a ride outta here. Pop left me some money, but I was going to hold onto it as long as I needed to.

  Crunching on my cereal, I stood by the kitchen bench. Mum was on a cleaning spree again. The magazines on the coffee table were in a straight pile and three coasters were perfectly positioned, awaiting our drinks. She had ironed tea towels, folded neatly over the railing of the oven door. Not one single crumb or utensil was out of place. Not one unwiped watermark by the faucet. Our house wasn’t like Bea’s and Robbie’s—their house felt like a home. They were clean, but they also lived in their house. This house felt like a display house. It was a prison dressed up with fake sincerity, tainted by the pungent stench of bleach. Who in the hell cared if the cushions weren’t all parallel to each other? Who in the hell cared if the sink had a few watermarks near the taps? Nobody except Dad. For someone who was perpetually drunk, he sure had kick arse eyesight.

  Despite Mum’s attempts at keeping a clean house, the smell of cigarette smoke lingered in each room. The one thing I hated as much as the booze were those shitful ciggies. He’d torment my mother, too, knowing that she was asthmatic. I bet half the reason he smoked was to see if she’d react. He’d smoke away while smiling at her, and then drop ash on the floor while watching her scramble to get a dustpan. He was such a dick.

  This was all done drunk. Sober, though, he was a knight in shining pig-shit armour. He could do no wrong; as for my mum-well, hell, she’d just let him buy her sparkly shit and trips to the city to see theatre shows instead of an outright apology. Saying sorry for breaking a rib was too hard. A dirty weekend away in a five-star hotel and watching The Lion King? Well, fuck me, everything could be forgiven. Either she didn’t want to hang onto the past, or she was just hollow. One thing was for fuckin’ certain—I never, ever wanted to be like him.

  I rinsed my bowl and opened the back door to get my sneakers from the porch. Lacing them up, I listened closely to hear if there was any stirring. So far, so good. If I got back and he was awake, it was generally okay, but leaving always seemed to be a problem.

  Tucking my MP3 player into one pocket and my phone in the other, I closed the door and started running to meet Bea. I was looking forward to smashing seven kilometres with her. Robbie could lift weights, but he was shit at running. Couldn’t even manage a couple of kilometres. Bea, though, she could smash most of the guys I ran against in footy. She didn’t even realise how fit she was. She just ran.

  Our setup was perfect. Run, no talking, and push yourself
to the limits. We had a few facial expressions or hand gestures to signal to the other person if we needed to stop, but they were rarely used. It was a comfortable silence and I loved it.

  As I jogged closer, I could see Bea stretching by the back door, facing away from me. Her long athletic legs were spread apart as she bent forward and, oh hell, please stand up. Alex Junior just woke up, too. This was not going to happen today. Suddenly, thinking of solving quadratic equations seemed like a great idea. Flitting problems in my mind and just thinking about them and God knows everything else but Bea’s arse wasn’t helping. I’d known her since she was a baby. This was so wrong on so many levels.

  As I approached, Bea looked up and smiled.

  “Hey clown, what’s with the face? Looks like you sucked on your own ass.”

  I schooled my facial muscles tightly.

  “Nothing, Beatrice.” She frowned at the use of her full name. “Just got homework on my mind; driving me nuts.” Pun intended.

  “Oh, okay. Well, let’s run out your frustrations, hey?”

  I choked, whacked my chest with a cough, turned and then started jogging towards the river track.

  The heat of the day hadn’t started yet. As we ran a cool breeze from the river followed us. The distinct sounds of Tool beat between my eyes as I let their Aeniemia album soothe me. I love alternative music, and I knew Bea would be listening to something similar. For a teenage girl, her taste in music was pretty good. She had to dance to all genres for ballet, but she preferred music that was alternative and non-commercial. Robbie had definitely influenced her liking it, but I was the one who got her into the likes of Tool, NIN, and Smashing Pumpkins. In return, she showed me Stabbing Westward and Nitocris. We both used music as an outlet. While we pounded the path and turned at the perimeter, I knew these beats were clearing my wayward thoughts.

  We neared the edge of her property and the start of mine. I hadn’t yet worked out where the other kilometres would be. I signalled at her to stop, and we slowed down while running on the spot to keep our momentum.

  “Where did you want to kick arse to today, m’lady?” I challenged. “Do you think you can do it?” I loved ripping into her. Her feisty nature always came out with my banter. She pointed past me to the old wool shed near my house.

  “Over in that direction, behind the shed. We’ll run to the big gumtree and then turn back. I Googled it last night on maps and that should be the right trail.” I smiled at her and shook my head. God, she was cute when she planned our outings. Who used Google on a property that was surrounded by a river and trees? Bea did.

  “All right, let’s go!” Off we went towards her Google-mapped track.

  By the time we reached the big gum tree, sprinting the entire way, we were both of out of breath, but of course neither of us wanted to relent. I didn’t want to look like a pussy; she would never let me live it down if I did. With a strong, determined look on her face, she ran until we hit her back door, jogging on the spot and gradually slowing down. I had to admire her willpower. Stopping and leaning against the side of the house, I stretched my right leg back while bending my left knee.

  “Well, Bea, you did it! Top effort!” I smiled. I swapped legs, chasing the slow burn up my calves. With a shake, I turned and checked that Bea was stretching right. “Make sure you really stretch Bea—“

  “Alex! I’ve been dancing since I was little. What do you think we do after each lesson? I’m not stupid. I probably stretch better than you do!” I smirked, clearly enjoying getting a rise out of her. She ignored me and turned, twisting her arm in front of her chest while using the other to fold it back.

  “Seven kilometres down. What target should we aim for next? Ten?” Her eyes glistened with excitement. “How pissed would Robbie be, knowing that I can kick his arse at running!” She laughed, while moving on to stretch her legs.

  After we finished, we headed inside to fill our water bottles. Her mum was usually up and the rest of the house was asleep but, this morning, no one was around. I knew Bea was eager to practice whatever dance moves she had learnt that week in the family garage while everyone slept. There was less chance of Robbie giving her shit if she did it hidden.

  “So, you learnt any new moves this week, Twinkle Toes?” I walked past her, refilling my bottle.

  “Yes, actually. We have a hip-hop number in our performance coming up. It’s pretty cool, we’re dancing to No Doubt’s ‘It’s my life’.” Dancing to Gwen Stefani—she was hot.

  “Well, at least you’re not dancing to bubblegum bullshit. C’mon, Twinkle, show me your moves. I’ll judge you.” I raise my eyebrow to challenge her, while waiting for her to get embarrassed and tell me to piss off. Surprisingly, she walked around to the front of the bench, and put herself into position. With a flick of her shoulders, she straightened and looked directly at me.

  “I’ll show you the first ten beats, smartarse. See if you can do it too.” Her legs were both bent while on her toes, and her arms were draped over her face as if she were imitating holding the brim of a hat. Whispering, “one, two, three, four,” she rocked on the spot with a few pelvic thrusts. She then turned, kicked and spun putting her hands into her pockets, while her shoulders moved up and down. My jaw dropped and my skin felt tight.

  “Whoa! What was that? That was super quick. Do it again.” That was impressive. My pulse

  quickened as she repeated the moves effortlessly. “Bea, you planning on continuing with dance? You’re getting pretty good.” She shrugged as if it were no big deal.

  “I hope so; I have my auditions coming up.” She avoided my eyes as she looked down at her toes. I hated how insecure she was about herself.

  “Well, for starters, if you worked a pole—” I ducked, narrowly missing the tea towel she threw at me.

  “Piss off, arsehole. As if!”

  “Bea—” I laughed. “I’m joking. Like we’d let you work in a club anyway. But, seriously you should do this professionally. You looked amazing.” She blushed at my compliment and caught the towel as I threw it back at her.

  “You coming to the gala? It’s in a few months’ time. It’s where the scouts are,” she said nervously. I had been going to all of her big performances since she was five.

  “Yeah, Bea-Bea, I’ll be there.” Her eyes lit up as she smiled at me, and I couldn’t help grinning back. She just needed more confidence, which reminded me.

  “Hey, are those bitches still giving you hell?” I’d heard from Trinity while waiting for Bea by the bus stop that a group of girls liked to tease her. Trin didn’t go into any details, so it seemed like petty shit, but knowing Bea, she wouldn’t tell anyone anyway. Her shoulders stiffened as she looked around the kitchen at anything but me.

  “No, not really. I’m fine.” I didn’t believe her for a second.

  “Look, Bea-Bea, if they keep hassling you, all you gotta do is let Robbie know. He will kick their arse. I’m happy to help put these guns to work,” I sang, holding up my biceps and showing off my arms.

  She laughed and shook her head.

  “Don’t worry about me. Besides, it will only make it worse. It’ll stop one day.” She shook her head, as if shaking away the topic. “Did you want a piece of Mum’s cheesecake? Her sister came around last night while we were outside, and there’s some left over.” She walked to the fridge, ready to get it, but I grabbed her arm.

  “Bea—” I looked into her eyes. “I mean it. You’d tell me if they got any worse, wouldn’t you?” Her eyes flashed for a moment and before I could register that look, she plastered on a smile to cover it.

  “Oh, assface, it’s the era of feminism. I don’t need a guy to fight my battles. But thanks.”

  I headed home shortly after to shower, and hopefully, get away to the library. I wanted to get a few hours’ research done for my biology assignment. I figured I’d take my other homework there, and that would leave me with the whole day planned away from home. If I wasn’t there, then he couldn’t start anything with me. We had a
n understanding to stay out of each other’s way. As for Mum, well, her bullshit excuses about why she was bruised up and wouldn’t defend herself had gotten old. I no longer felt angry. I just pitied her. She was a constant reminder that love was fucked.

  * * * * *

  The weekend quickly faded, and before I knew it, Monday was knocking at my door. Robbie and I attended the senior campus of our school. The middle school was separated by an oval. The principal had designed our campus a few years ago with the idea that the seniors would do better by being apart from the juniors and middle school students. It did work to an extent, but it was also pretty easy to score beers, cigarettes, and all sorts from those who had turned eighteen. The teachers let us call them by their first names, and we could come and go as we wanted.

  Our bus pulled up at one end of the oval so Robbie, Bea, and I got off. Bea walked ahead of us to go greet her friends, but before she was out of earshot, I yelled, “Bye, Beatrice!” Her shoulders stiffened as she turned sharply, raising her right hand to give me the bird. The corner of her mouth turned up in a smirk as she shook her head, mouthing, fuck you. In an instant, she turned and continued walking away as though nothing had disrupted her. Robbie and I both laughed and started to head to our campus.

  While walking across to our buildings, I considered all the bits of homework I had to do. Robbie was busy texting whomever he was banging at the moment. Renee’? Rebecca? Fuck knows, fuck cares. The finals were going to bust my balls this semester. I needed to ace the tests. I was lucky as the teachers liked me, and relieved they didn’t treat me based on the stories of my junior days, when I was a royal shit to absolutely everyone.

  I’d spent my junior years getting into fights and pissing everyone off. It was not hard for a kid with a shit home life to find something, anything, to make them feel. I was sick of feeling hurt, so for a long time, I passed the hurt onto other people. It wasn’t until my football coach, who witnessed me getting beat up by some seniors for being a smartarse, sat me down and straightened me out. “Alex, you’re a bright kid, but a pain in the arse. Don’t let those demons that you’re carrying mark you. Make your own way.” He was right. By the time the final year of middle school was up, I had changed my attitude. I realised that if I continued being a shit there was no way I could leave this town. A scholarship was my ticket out.