Page 41 of Summer, in Between
‘Phenomenal?’
‘Phenomenal.Don’t ask me to spell it.’
‘I won’t.’A small grin tugs at my lips, and I relax into the car seat’s embrace.
We talk about everything and anything: music, movies we’ve seen, holidays, everything but that kiss at the Gap lookout.I thought it would feel awkward, sitting in his car, but there’s no stilted conversation.It just flows like the steady rhythm of a heartbeat.Paddocks turn to houses sprawling on either side of the freeway as far as I can see.We turn into an industrial estate and pull up in front of a double story warehouse.A man paces in front of a reception desk, and spotting us, he flings open the door.
‘Caterina Kelty?Your mother said you’d be here by five.I was supposed to leave here ten minutes ago.’
‘Calm down, mate, her mother said she’d be here when she gets here,’ says Paul.‘And this is your stuff up, not ours.Do you have her books ready to go?’
‘No need for abuse,mate.’He crosses his arms across his chest.‘I’m doing you a favour so you might want to watch how you speak to me.’
‘You’re doing us a favour?’Paul shifts his weight forward, his shoulders back.
‘My books?’I interrupt before the male standoff continues.I don’t think the wiry frame of the administrator would do well against the guy who battles waves for fun.
He bustles behind the reception desk and lifts a box.
‘Here.’He holds them out to me, looking over my head at Paul in the doorway.
‘Thank you.I’ll just check everything’s here.’
‘They’re all there, I assure you.’
‘Forgive me, but since we’re here because I still don’t have the right books four months after I ordered them, I’m going to check.’
He sighs and shifts his weight from foot to foot as I pull the books out of the box, checking them against my booklist.
‘Are we done?’
‘Yes, thank you.You’ve been so generous and helpful.’A hint of facetiousness comes out in my tone.
‘Look, I’m here, aren’t I?I shouldn’t be, but I’m here.I don’t get paid to put up with smartarses.’
‘Who you calling a smartarse, mate?’says Paul as he steps up to my side.
‘I think he’s calling me a smartarse,’ I say.‘I can’t imagine why?I’m quite lovely.Anyway, sir, again, thank you.I’ll be sure to tell my school how wonderful this experience was.Have a nice evening.’
‘What a dick,’ says Paul as we walk back to his car.‘You handled that like a boss.I just wanted to punch him in his smartarse face.’
‘Such a dick,’ I agree as we both take our seats.‘And thank you.I’m not normally good with confrontation.But I have my books now, I can get moving, and I’m not going to let someone like that get to me.Did you hear that?I have my books!’I hug the box to my chest.
‘Pass them here.’He takes them off me and I put my seatbelt on.‘Man, they’re heavy!And what, this is only half of them?How are you going to carry them to school every day?’
‘I’m stronger than I look.’I pretend to flex my muscles.
‘Yeah, nah,’ he says, ‘I think we better put some meat on those bones.You hungry?’
‘I’m starving.’
‘What are you thinking?’He leans back to put the books behind us, beneath the car seats.
‘I don’t know, maybe something Asian-y?’
‘Asian-y?Hmm.Let’s head into the city.Are you thinking something we can’t get at home?’The car hums to life with a turn of his keys.
‘You’re not suggesting that Batter’s Cove is lacking in diverse dining opportunities, are you?How dare you, Paul Lightwood.’
