ANOTHER BORING WEEKEND

I was sitting in the family car, listlessly changing channels on the car radio. I was waiting for my parents to finish their round of golf, and consequently stuck out in a little town 24 miles away from our hometown. Nothing to do here. My parents didn’t 'trust' me at home on my own, all due to my climbing up into a tree in our front yard one night when they came home late. I don’t know why I did it; I guess to teach them some sort of lesson which of course they were incapable of learning. They assumed I was out in the streets getting up to no good. Serves them right! I felt so superior as I watched them walking out of the yard and into the streets looking for me. But now they won’t leave me alone in the house, and of course I can’t tell them the truth.

I twiddled the dial again. The radio came up with a song by that weird new pop group ‘Skyhooks’. "Living in the Seventies" the song was called; "I feel like a good time, that’s never been had," the song sang. I switched it off. I didn’t like the group much, and that line was just cutting too close to the truth.

Sitting in a car nearby was Faye Costello. She was a girl in my class at school. We were both here – alone in our cars, waiting the afternoon away. I wondered what she had done to deserve this. But I had no great urge to go and ask her.

The galahs squawked into the hot dry stillness of the day. They sat amongst tall silver gum trees, which rose up into the huge endless blue sky. The wind lazily rustled amongst their leaves. Everything else was silent. Another boring day in another boring weekend in another boring year of another boring existence.

Suddenly there was a break in the stillness of the afternoon. Faye had got out of her car. She primped herself the way that girls do, leaning over and looking in the car’s side mirror – as if there wasn’t a mirror in the car. Then she just leant against the car. What was she doing?

Then I saw him.

He was making his way through the car park and heading toward the clubhouse. He looked about 17, three years older than me. He had some golf clubs with him, he was one of these young golfers mum and dad always wished I was. He must have been playing golf too, and had finished his round, and was now going in to the clubhouse for a drink.

At 17 most of us guys seem to develop rapidly from the narrow shouldered soft-chested little boys, and sprout up higher, wider – harder muscled chests and narrow tight bums. He had certainly done this. And you know, I couldn’t help but wonder how much he had developed in the crotch you know the place I mean.

I’d often watched older guys, you know, men - been fascinated by them. My sister always loved to sit around with her friends and spend hours looking at all the female models in her Dolly magazine; imagining, I guess, how they wanted to look when they grew up to be like them. So, I figured it was normal too, to spend lots of time watching older guys.

But, watching him, it felt different. Robert was his name. I vaguely remembered him from a couple of years ago at school when he was in 4^th Form – when he was still narrow shouldered – I took no notice of him then, but I had just been a kid. But now, he was tall, with wide shoulders. As I watched him, I had a sudden longing just to reach out and touch those shoulders. I shook my head, stupid! He had blond hair, and such a bloody good-looking face, the bastard, you know, I envied him. Not fair that a guy should have a face like that. It was real pretty. "He should be a girl," I heard myself saying. Maybe I wanted him to be a girl.

I watched his long straight legs walking across the car park – with his tight bum. I’d heard my sister describe guys like this lots of times, maybe too many times – and perhaps I had absorbed her words, not finding any of my own to describe my admiration for the older guys that I wanted one day to be.

But did I want to be this guy, or did I simply want this guy?

After he disappeared into the clubhouse, I saw Faye move. She also made her way toward the clubhouse. The car park was muddy, and she picked her way slowly across, careful not to get her jeans covered in mud. She wore jeans that were tight around her arse, and pulled in at her waist. Her top fitted snug about her breasts. She was 14, and at 14 some girls are, you know, pretty well-developed. She walked with that little roll that girls have; swinging her hips slightly from side to side. She seemed soft and supple. I snorted. I thought of Mark in our class at school. She was just his type. I knew if he were here, he would be licking his lips watching her, and he’d be itching to get out of the car and follow, except he wouldn’t be able to, ‘cos his hard-on would be too embarrassing.

But I didn’t have that problem. I had felt my dick twitch into life earlier, but that was before ‘he’ had disappeared into the clubhouse. Now, watching Faye making her way across the asphalt did nothing for it, but it did cause my heart to beat quicker and the blood begin to flow rapidly through me. But it wasn’t lust, I knew; it was panic. She was on the hunt, and her quarry was him.

My own sense of survival took over, and I didn’t even know what I was doing. I leapt out of the car and crossed the vacant space. I didn’t care about the mud; didn’t matter to me how dirty my jeans got. I reached Faye and began talking to her.

"Hi, Faye, how ya going? Didn’t know you were here."

Faye took little notice of me. Why would she, I was just a boy in her class, not like him. She shrugged and said "Hello, Steve" almost inaudibly. I kept up the bright patter ‘till we got to the clubhouse.

"Wonder if the oldies are back from their golf yet?" I mused as I peered over the darkening fairways.

But Faye never heard me; she had turned and was making her way inside. I could see him standing near a pool table. The room was brightly lit and I knew he couldn’t see me, because I was hidden by the dark sky behind me. I allowed myself the brief luxury of openly staring at him. I could see him laugh, his smile flashing around the room, the beauty of it lost to his mates, who didn’t seem to care what he looked like.

I couldn’t allow myself to watch for too long; Faye was entering the room. I raced into the room to catch her. Too late, she had entered and was making her way toward him.

Oh no, failure. I had been done in by his mesmerizing beauty. I should have stayed focused while the enemy was on the warpath.

I moved to the side of the room and watched, as she made her play. But nothing happened. Her head turned his way, and I watched his turn to her in answer. He smiled at her. They both stopped briefly and looked at each other, but said nothing. Eventually he turned back. She walked on, and made her way to the other side of the room. She sat with her parents, and watched him. Shyly perhaps? The sight emboldened me. The boys at school were like that too. They sat in their seats at lunchtime rattling on about some gorgeous bird who was sitting on the far side of the canteen shelter, some girl you could hardly see from such a distance. It constantly astounded me what they could see in some blur in the distance. They’d blurt and brag about what they’d do to her if they got near her, but they were never game to make one step closer than they were at that moment. "What do you say to girls?" Girls must think the same about guys.

Well, I certainly knew what to say to guys. Maybe I didn’t know how to get them into bed or anything, but I did know how to talk as a mate, and that was more than Faye could.

I boldly moved over to the pool table. He was playing with two other guys – they needed a fourth to make it even.

"Hi, you’re Rob, aren’t you?" I said glibly. "Can I play, I’m a pretty mean pool player."

"Are you? Ha! Sure. OK mate, why not, here have a go," he said and handed me a cue. I let myself be a bit clumsy and grabbed the cue too close to his hand, my fingers brushed over his as I took it. He never noticed. I let the feel of his long fingers warm mine for as long as safely possible before I took the cue completely.

Now that they had four to play, we played in pairs. I looked at him slightly too long, hoping magically that he would make me his partner – but no, he didn’t, I was paired up with one of the others. I pulled my eyes away quickly and turned to Mike, my partner, "No worries," I said. "Lets go".

I played with them for what seemed like ages. My parents finally came in from playing their golf. They were pleased to see I’d found some friends to spend the time with. It allowed them time to spend drinking with their friends; I turned back to the pool table, and continued to discuss the cricket, the previous footy season; and all those matey things. The room became crowded and space was tight around the pool table. I had to squeeze past him to get to the other end of the table and found it easy to accidentally brush against his body.

Then he just seemed to stop playing, in mid-game. "Ooh…ahh..I gotta go…ummm - " he said, his eyes darting about the room as if looking for something " – to the toilet," and suddenly he was gone.

I panicked. Maybe he had meant me to follow? Had he? My heart raced. Perhaps he had? Should I follow? But I was actually scared to. I wouldn’t know what to do. I looked around at the other guys? What would they say if I left too?

"Young girl from your Form at school is she?" Mike asked, nodding in the direction that Robert had gone in. "What’s her name?"

So he had followed Faye? My mind felt like it had closed in on itself. I turned to look at the others. They sniggered. In an attempt at nonchalance, I shrugged and said "Dunno, but I reckon she’s a slut, well…so I hear." This was a desperate lie from me and it only elicited shrieks of laughter from them.

"Ha! Just his type," they nudged each other in ribaldry.

"Well, seems our game is over," I said.

"Oh yeah, but he’ll probably be finished soon," Michael said, with more nudging and laughter. I turned to look ouside, in the direction of the toilet. What crap some guys go on with.

"I guess I’d better go anyway – my parents are probably looking for me," I said, and I used the opportunity to leave the pool table. It held little interest for me now.

I didn’t know what to do, then I found myself heading outside to the toilet blocks.

Once out on the verandah it didn’t take long to find them, they were standing near the practice green nearby. I went down the stairs and slipped into the shadows underneath the verandah. They stood near each other, but strategically apart. They spoke very haltingly, but laughed a lot and spent much time smiling at each other. Yuck, it was horrible. She had nothing to say to him, nothing in common – what could he possibly see in her?

Knowing full well what it was he saw in her, I had to turn my face away. I looked out over the darkness behind the clubhouse – the golf course was on the edge of town, and no streets or houses stood on that side, so I was looking at pitch blackness – the abyss. I felt as if I was staring into the depths of my own being.

When I turned back he was kissing her, just lightly – their bodies still strategically apart. He made a little move which seemed to indicate that they move over to the shadows where I was. Oh no! She began to acquiesce. What was I to do? They came dangerously closer – if I could just move quietly, maybe I could go on watching this distasteful display – if I wanted to!

I tried to move, but dry gum-leaves lay all over the ground, and of course you can’t see them in the dark. Crackle. They heard. They looked up. I headed on to the toilets as if I hadn’t noticed anything. "Oh..ahh…sorry mate," I tried to mumble. He was looking at me straight in the face. Faye used the opportunity to make her escape. She seemed pleased to be able to do so. I watched her go up the stairs. Girls! The opportunities they are given, and they don’t take them. I cannot understand them.

He was still looking at me. I felt the blood that had been racing around my body now gather in my face, and elsewhere. I was so grateful for the darkness. The seconds seemed to drag on for hours, days. What was he gonna say? What move should I make? My mind was fogged with fear, and unrealistic hope.

"Sorry." I managed to croak the word again.

"I’m sorry, Steve" he said. He was sorry… what for? He turned his head to look up the empty stair where Faye had gone.

"Uh, I was just going to the toilet," I said, as an excuse. But I also said it with some forlorn hope that maybe he’ll take it as an invitation. Again I wondered, Why was he sorry?

"Sorry… if I was cramping your style."

He was looking at me again. "You’re in her class at school, aren’t you? Sorry if, you know, you’re like, interested in her…, it was just a spur of the moment thing."

The light from the clubhouse shone in his eyes and I caught the vibrant blue of their colour shining out against the darkness. My eyes were lost in his for a vulnerable moment; his searched mine for a response, and then widened as he began to understand.

I turned my eyes away quickly – I could feel the pricking of those damn tears that boys are not supposed to cry, especially over another boy.

"Na, it’s not like that, I mean…" I blurted out. I broke away and headed off to the toilets – where else could I go? I walked as fast as I could, almost ran; I had to get away from him. I could feel his eyes burning into my back as I left.

Why couldn’t he just go back into the clubhouse; chase after her. Why couldn't he just leave me alone? As I got to the toilet block I couldn’t stop myself from throwing a glance back at him – he was still staring at me – a strange took in his eyes. I couldn’t really make them out, ‘cos my eyes were blurry from the tears, but I knew what the look would be – a mixture of surprise, confusion, disgust. I turned and went into the toilet building. I raced into a cubicle and sat there, listening, hopelessly hoping still that he might follow…

But he didn’t.

I eventually made my way out. People were beginning to leave as the night was ending. I stood out on the lawns, waiting in the shadows for my parents. At last, they came and I stepped out to greet them. My eyes were focussed on them because I couldn’t wait to get home – so I didn’t see him ‘til he walked right in front of me. I could sense the earth open up and the vapours of hell rising. He stopped. My eyes were stuck wide open in panic, I couldn’t move. His eyes were filled with fear, and disgust, and confusion. He began to speak, but then his mother called to him, "come on Robert." He turned to answer her, then turned back to me. He stood staring at me, those blue eyes boring into me.

"Its…" his eyes began shifting uncomfortably – I tried to use the chance to make my escape, but my feet felt like they were nailed to the ground. I looked about frantically.

"Come on Robert!" his mother was demanding. When I looked back, he was moving away from me, disappearing into the night.