Myths And Facts About Boys That Every Girl Should Know [#12]

Myth Number Twelve: All Boys Have A Thing For Large Machinery

Fact: Only as long as they’re on its good side.

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“…Jesus Christ.”

“You can say that again.”

“Jesus Chr -”

“Not literally!” Callie interrupted.

“Sorry,” I replied, gaping at the bomb site that used to be our relatively ordered living area, “But… dayum.”

We were standing at the threshold, staring. Mum decided to do some pre-emptive packing for our snow trip – the one I had totally forgotten about, in light of recent events, but was nonetheless dreading – so there was crap everywhere. She has this odd technique which involves putting everything into piles before packing it up.

“So, this is happening here and now because…?” I asked, gingerly picking my way through a couple of piles of waterproof gloves and thick socks.

“We’re leaving tomorrow, honey. I must have told you about ten times. I found your green coat – it’s over there – for you to pack. Here’s some more socks, too...” she said, handing me a pair of thick black socks.

“Wait, tomorrow? As in Friday?”

“Yes, tomorrow as in Friday. For the twelfth time, I think that is now. Why, you have something more important to do?”

“Well, no…” I said, then turned to Callie. “Reckon you’ll still be allowed to come?”

She shook her head slowly. “I don’t think so, Ath. Not only does Mum not like me missing even the last, usually useless day of school, I have a family reunion thing on the Saturday. She says if I don’t go she’ll skin me alive with our pizza cutter, and I don’t really want to cross her on this one.”

I shoved aside a pile of Matty’s crap and sat down heavily. “Great.”

“Sorry…”

“Nah, it’s not your fault. I’ll survive.” I told her, sighing nonetheless. “My laptop’s over there if you still wanted to use the internet. Should be mostly charged.”

“Ok… won’t be long, I promise. Hopefully Dad will have ours working by the weekend… why he decided to put it in himself I will never know…”

“Mhmm.” I murmured in assent and then didn’t say anything, my mood suddenly blackened by this new piece of news. Normally, if I got told we were leaving for the snow the next day, I’d be beside myself with excitement. Now, I just felt… well, sort of empty.

My mood stayed fairly dark for the rest of the afternoon, through dinner, Bones and I still felt like crap as I could feel myself falling asleep. This was normal, though – I’d developed a pattern of thought once I got to bed, and tonight was no different. First, the re-realisation that I was now alone. Then it slowly turned to trying to figure out what went wrong. From there, it was obsessively and neurotically going over everything I’d said or done and imagining doing it differently, trying to figure out if it would have made a difference.

By the time I fall asleep, I’m usually crying and re-living most of the time I spent with Heath, practically crushed under the realisation that all of it – the friendship, affection, everything – was just gone. For so long, the only things I’ve had to rely on are my feelings for Heath, and the hope that something would happen.

Now I just feel sort of lost.

The darkness was still there in the morning, practically hanging like a visible cloud over my head, like in cartoons. I was relieved – so relieved – that I didn’t have to go to school. Heath hadn’t been there yesterday, thank God, but you never knew.

I ate breakfast under the cloud, packed under it and then went to throw my stuff in the car with it still hanging overhead. Then Mum stopped me.

“Oh, Ather… um, look, we decided – while you were ignoring us last night – that instead of taking the roof pod, we’re going to pack our gear into your place in the car - ”

“What?” I asked in disbelief.

“ – and Isaac’s, and that you two can travel there in his car, following us.”

I sat down in the car, legs hanging out of the open door. “Mum… no…”

“Oh, relax, Ather, it’s only for a few hours. You’ll be fine. Better than spending those hours cooped up with your brothers, isn’t it?”

“Not really,” I muttered under my breath.

This was the worst idea I had ever heard. I could almost feel the little black rain cloud start to thunder. There was no way in hell I was going along with it.

Or so I thought. Dee came rushing over, one of the triplet’s bags in hands. “Oh, Ather, thankyou for agreeing to this -” I looked at Mum, who didn’t even have the grace to look sheepish “ – Isaac wanted to drive himself, and I didn’t feel comfortable him going all alone… I really appreciate it, sweetie. Keep him out of trouble, ok?”

She rushed off again, frazzled, and I gave a snarl of frustration, knowing that to refuse now would look childish. “Fine.”

“Oh, good, honey. Thankyou. I think his car is out in their backyard, if you want to go put your stuff in it…”

“Right. Like I’m doing this for you.”

I shouldered by clothes bag and went through the gate between our houses, trudging to Isaac’s waiting black vehicle. Thank God, I thought as I approached, it didn’t have racing stripes or huntin’ lights or anything similarly ridiculous on it. I think I’d die of embarrassment if we crashed and the Jaws of Life had to extract me from a car like that.

The boot – or trunk, whatever you want to call it – was open, so I swung my bag in on top of the stuff already in there. I turned to go back for my school stuff – our parents were insisting Isaac and I study while we were up there, or at least pretend to – and almost ran smack into the owner of aforementioned car. Argh.

“Just so you know, I don’t like this any more than you do,” I informed him, pushing past. “I was emotionally blackmailed into it by your mum.”

“Um, ok…” he started to reply, but by then I had gone to get my other bags.

I picked them up from the pile in the living room, making sure I had my iPod, charger and FM transmitter thing. No way was I going however many hours it is without music.

Mum appeared again. “Ok, you guys will be following the Harlows, alright? Here’s some money for the trip, for food and stuff…” she dug into her pocket and handed me some notes, “and don’t be too nasty. I’ll see you when we stop.” She hugged me and then grabbed another couple of bags, which I took as my cue to leave.

Once I got to the car, I swung my bags and then myself in, surprised at how comfortable the passenger seat was. Isaac followed a second later.

“All set?” he asked, closing his door and reaching for his seatbelt. I did the same, nodding.

He went to put the car in gear and then paused. “Um, Ather… look, I heard about what happened. I mean… ok, obviously you don’t want to talk about it but… well, Heath’s an asshole. Letting him get to you is letting him win.”

Um. Right. Ok. I’m not sure where that came from.

“He already got to me. And I’m fairly sure he already won. Him being an asshole isn’t going to change much at this point.”

“Well, yeah, but…” Isaac shook his head, “A text message? Jesus Christ.”

“Mhmm. Wait, how the hell do you even know that?”

“I was listening more than you think in Religion the other day,” he replied unapologetically.

“Right.”

“So…yeah.”

“Mhmm,” I murmured again noncommittally. Isaac’s words had got to me though. I mean, a text? Why the hell shouldn’t I be angry? I had been brushed aside with nothing better than an ‘I’m sorry’.

It was, I realised, exactly like I had been on the wrong end of a guy telling a girl – one he’s cheating with – ‘don’t worry, baby, I’ll break up with her soon and then we can be together. I promise’.

What an asshole.

As we pulled out onto the road, following the Harlow’s dark red people-mover, I turned to Isaac. “You know what?” I asked him.

“Um…” he half answered, but it was sort of rhetorical.

“You’re right.”

“I am?”

“Yeah. I think it’s time I moved on to Anger. Can I borrow your iPod, please?”

Isaac nodded, starting to understand. “I have a radio transmitter thing, if you want it… also, look in my Playlists and you’ll probably find one to suit what you want.”

“Great. Thanks.”

I plugged the player into the radio thingie and clicked into his Playlist list. About halfway down was one entitled ‘Fuck You, Bitch.’ Perfect. I scrolled down the list.

Aesthetics of Hate – Machine Head

Crave – Butterfly Effect

My Plague - Slipknot

The End of Everything - Slipknot

Disasterpiece - Slipknot

The Heretic Anthem – Slipknot

I Am Hated - Slipknot

New Abortion - Slipknot

Empty Inside – All That Remains

Vicious Betrayal – All That Remains

Die (And Die Now) - Devildriver

Horn of Betrayal - Devildriver

Dead Inside – Chimaira

Worthless – Chimaira

“There’s a lot of Slipknot on here…”

“Corey Taylor is an angry dude.”

“No kidding…”

I selected Disasterpiece, hit Play and turned the volume up. Way up. Soon Isaac’s car was throbbing with the music, the harsh vocals having sort of a cathartic effect.

“…NOBODY STOP ME!

I WANNA SLIT YOUR THROAT

AND FUCK THE WOUND

I WANNA PUSH MY FACE IN

AND FEEL THE SWOON

I WANNA DIG INSIDE

FIND A LITTLE BIT OF ME

THE LINE GETS CROSSED

WHEN YOU DON’T COME CLEAN…”

I sat back in the seat, eyes closed, and just let the pretty much pure hostility that is Slipknot wash over me. The Playlist – which held even more songs than I originally thought – continued until we got a fair way toward our destination.

After stopping at McDonalds for lunch (gross, but hey, we were in a hurry) we kept going, and not soon after got to the Snowy Mountains Highway. Now, normally when I’m driving with Mum or Dad, I feel all fine and nice and secure no matter where we are, because, you know, they’ve had experience and stuff.

Isaac… not so much.

It was fine on the single-lane parts – despite his P plates on prominent display, Isaac sped most of the way (even though everyone knows getting caught speeding on your Provisional licence means soon you will be license-less).

I started to get nervous on the double-lane parts though. Isaac… and his dad… are sort of competitive drivers. Not against each other – I think they get how pointless that would be – but against everyone else on the road.

Which, I guess, is also sort of pointless but they didn’t seem to notice.

The worst part started when a silver Range Rover – so new and clean you could tell it had never roved a range in its life – overtook the Harlows. I could almost hear John H saying “Ohh, no you don’t, buddy.”

As soon as there was a gap in the right lane,* we could see him slide into it, speeding up to match the speed of the Range Rover. Isaac followed suit almost immediately.

“They said keep them in sight, not follow their every move,” I reminded him.

“This is more fun,” was all the reply I got before he sped up to overtake a red station wagon. Then a small truck. Then the Range Rover – still stuck behind a larger truck – before pulling in back behind his dad.

I gripped the side of the door. This is not what I had signed up for.

Not that I really signed up for anything…

We settled back into a more or less steady pace then for another fifteen minutes or so. Suddenly, Isaac gave a low whistle as he looked in the rear-view mirror. I twisted around to see what he was looking at.

“Oh… awesome…” I breathed. A shiny black stretch Hummer was behind us by about six cars or so, complete with blacked out windows and shiny chrome rims.

“It’s probably Snoop Dogg or someone,” remarked Isaac, glancing back and forth between the mirror and the road.

“Probably. If they let him in the country, that is…”

“Ha. Yeah, hopefully not.”

I turned around again as the silver 4WD pulled out again and started to gain on us. Isaac’s dad promptly sped up, not allowing them to pass, meaning they had to slot in the space he left in front of us. It almost completely obstructed our view of the Harlow’s car.

“Damn,” Isaac muttered, looking ahead.

“I wouldn’t worry. We’re on the exact same stretch of highway, and I don’t think we’re getting off any time soon…”

“Yeah but as soon as one car gets between us, another car can. Then another, then another. Soon we’ll have ten or twenty cars between us and they’ll have exited before we even know what’s happening.”

“Right. Ok. Well, if you’re sure…”

“I am,” he assured me.

About half a second later, the silver Range Rover tried to take over Isaac’s dad again – and, again, looked like it was going to fail. I never realised John was this competitive.

I said as much to Isaac and he just laughed. “Yeah, well, that’s sort of where I get it from, I think. Dad used to be a pretty good drag racer in his day, he told me.”

“Really?” I asked, incredulous. I didn’t know that. “That’s pretty cool.”

“Sure is,” Isaac started to say, then swore. “Son of a bitch!” he yelled, almost slamming on the brakes in order to avoid he Range Rover, who had now admitted defeat and tried to pull back in front of us again, causing us to almost ram him as he slowed down.

“Idiot!” Isaac yelled at him, probably knowing he wouldn’t hear but abusing him anyway. “That’s it. I need to get in front of that dude before he pulls another stunt like that.”

“Um, Isaac, are you sure – ”

“Ather, I know how to drive, ok?”

I shut up, thinking that I’ll just let him do his thing with the car and hopefully we’ll live. The Range Rover – fast becoming our mortal enemy – tried to pull out again, but this time Isaac went to follow.

“Oh, no you don’t,” he said, probably to the car, speeding up.

Suddenly, a horn beeped from behind us. I looked behind us and almost screamed. The Hummer we’d been admiring before was right on our ass, obviously having already been in the right lane before we pulled out and almost hit them.

“Shit! Isaac! Move!” I yelled, causing him to almost slam on the brakes as he looked in the side mirror – obviously for the first time – and saw the huge black vehicle.

“Oh, fuck!” he swore, then hesitated for a split-second, obviously unsure whether to speed up or slow down. He looked ahead and evidently picked the former, because a second later the engine roared and we pulled out a bit ahead. There was a gap coming up in the left lane so he went for it, sliding the car in. The Hummer went past a second later, beeping at us.

We both sat back in our seats. “Oh, my God,” I said. "I didn't even know Hummers could beep."

“Sorry,” Isaac apologised, looking guilty, “I should have been looking, I - ”

“Yeah. You should’ve. But you know what? We’re ok. So I’m not going to hold it against you,” I told him, hoping he was grateful. Something like this would provide months worth of material for making fun of him. “Your dad – and mine – might, though.”

“I know,” he grimaced. “But, ok. I won’t do it again, I swear. That was fucking scary.”

“Yeah,” I said, leaning back into the chair and closing my eyes again. “It was. But we’re alive. We’re alive, and ok, and nothing bad happened.”

We’re alive. Nothing bad happened.

I felt my heart rate slowing, barely.

Let’s just hope it keeps up until we get there.

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