Bro Page 14
Robbie and Ants are sitting on the floor by my locker, waiting for me. They stand when they see me approaching. No words are exchanged, just a look and split-second hugs and a pat on the back.
‘Good to see you,’ Robbie says.
I nod. ‘Yeah, you too.’
‘Um, Romes? About the other day? I don’t wanna fight with you, bro –’
I cut in. ‘It’s cool, bro. Forget it,’ I say, pulling him in for another hug.
I open my locker, shove my bag in and get out the books I need for the first two periods. Ants leans against Diz’s locker, trying to hide a poster sticky-taped to the door. But I’ve seen it already. Black stars frame an A4 paper with the words RIP DIZ written in the centre. I bite the inside of my lip and pretend not to notice.
‘I’ve gotta see Davo first,’ I say when the bell rings.
‘We’ll walk with you,’ Ants says.
‘Bro, I don’t need a babysitter.’
‘I know, bro,’ Robbie says. ‘We’re going that way.’
We blend into the hectic hallways. Boys move out of my way as I pass them. They’re not doing it to be mean. It’s obvious they’re giving me space. It’s just awkward.
I see Chris pushing through the crowd towards me.
‘Romes,’ he calls. ‘I wanna talk to you, bro, but Miss Kent is waiting for me. Catch up at recess, all right?’
I nod.
‘And I got those notes for you too,’ he shouts, disappearing down the corridor.
Further along the hallway I see Palmer rummaging through his locker. Smitty’s next to him, texting on his phone. He looks up and slips his phone into his pocket. He nudges Palmer, who also looks up. Palmer’s shoulders fall as he drops what he’s doing and turns towards us.
The five of us are frozen in the corridor. Around us everyone slows. Some stop and watch in case something goes down.
Robbie tugs my blazer. ‘Keep walking, Romes,’ he whispers.
But I ignore him. And even though my heart thumps hard and fast, I walk up to Palmer and look him in the eye. I hold my gaze. I keep holding it until my heart returns to its even beat. Then slowly, I extend my fist. Palmer swallows visibly, and then he raises his fist and we dice.
I turn to Robbie and Ants. They look confused – and a little put off. But seconds later, they both give a single, no-smile nod. It’s a start, I suppose. Maybe tomorrow they’ll dice. Or maybe next week. I hope.
As we continue down the corridor, Robbie calls out, ‘Okay, show’s over, you can all piss off now.’
•
Brother David sits behind his desk reading the papers in front of him.
I straighten my tie before speaking. ‘Sir?’ I say, standing at the door.
He peers over his glasses. ‘Oh, yes, take a seat, Romeo.’ He takes them off and lays them parallel to the papers. ‘How have you been?’
I shrug as I sit in the familiar seat opposite him.
‘It’s a terrible thing to lose a best friend. And this must have brought up memories about your mother, too.’ He pauses, waiting for me to say something but I remain silent and stare at the floor. I’ve learnt if I don’t make eye contact, and if I don’t say anything, I might not cry.
‘I imagine this is a very difficult time for you, Romeo. Has your dad explained about the school counsellor?’
I nod.
‘Good, good. And the contract?’
I nod again.
‘Excellent. We’ll get to that in a minute, but first there’s something else I want to discuss with you. I know about the Facebook page you’ve started.’
My heart skips a beat. I want to convince him it’s a good thing but I know I can’t argue after everything that’s happened. ‘I’ll take it down tonight, sir.’
‘Take it down? No, Romeo. It’s a good idea.’
I raise my eyes to meet his.
‘We’ve had discussions in the last couple of weeks about the various ways we could educate students on the dangers of violence and racial intolerance. I think your page can support this endeavour.’
‘Oh, really?’ I say, sitting up straighter.
‘As long as you keep an eye on it,’ he stresses, raising his finger. ‘Nothing inappropriate.’
‘Nah, no way.’
‘It’s no, Romeo, not nah.’
‘Sorry, sir.’
‘Your Facebook idea, Romeo, tells me you’re keen to take action in eliminating the kind of hostility we’ve seen building recently.’
I nod.
‘Good, because I’d like you to participate in one of the programs school is preparing. It’s an open discussion class, to be held at lunchtime once a week. It will be facilitated by Mr Gibson, but your involvement would make it far more effective.’
I raise my eyebrows. Even if it’s for Diz, it sounds like extra school. ‘Would I have to talk or something?’
‘Yes, probably. But Mr Gibson will meet with you and discuss all the details. Romeo, you are a year-ten student. You have the opportunity to set a good example for the younger students at our school. Sometimes our experiences, though painful, can be helpful. To ourselves and to others.’
I shrug. He’s got a point, and I figure it can’t hurt to try. ‘Okay, sir.’
‘All right, let’s get this contract signed so you can go to class,’ he says, sliding the piece of paper towards me.
I sign it and get up to leave.
‘Romeo?’ Brother David calls out. ‘I know you’ll be seeing the school counsellor, but if you’d like to talk with me at any time, I’m right here.’
I’m touched, and I smile for what feels like the first time in weeks. ‘Thanks, sir,’ I say.
He frowns, then extends his fist towards me.
I smirk at his attempt to be cool, but I still dice him.
‘Did I do it right?’ he asks.
‘You did good.’
‘Well, Romeo. I did well,’ he says.
‘Sorry, sir. You did well.’ A thought occurs to me. ‘Sir? You’re always so chilled. I’ve never seen you get angry.’
‘Anger doesn’t serve anyone, Romeo. It never has, it never will. It’s born of fear.’
I think about this. ‘Maybe that can be our first topic at the open discussion class. You can be our first guest.’
He grins, then nods. ‘Excellent, Romeo.’
41
‘Find a seat, boys!’ Mrs Bankovic yells. ‘Final exams are only a month away and we have a lot to get through. Quickly now.’
Boys drag themselves into their seats, groaning and swearing under their breath.
‘All right.’ Mrs Bankovic claps her hands for attention. ‘Settle, please. We have a new student with us. Jordan Campbell. Let’s give him a Christian Boys welcome. Find a seat, Jordan, so we can get started, thank you.’
I watch as Jordan Campbell looks around for somewhere to sit. His bright blue eyes search the back of the classroom. He presses his folder against his chest and wanders up the aisle, squeezing between desks.
‘Anyone parked here?’ he asks, eyeing the empty chair beside me. He has an accent.
I hesitate. The class goes quiet. No-one has sat in that seat since I returned to school. It’s Diz’s spot. I guess it’ll always be Diz’s spot. I’m about to explain this when someone from across the room calls out. ‘Just sit over here, dude.’
Jordan Campbell turns around to see who spoke. He raises his hand. ‘Thanks, but there’s a space here.’ He turns back to me. ‘So? Can I sit?’
The guy is ballsy for a new kid. ‘Sure.’ I shrug.
‘Cool,’ he says as he slides into Diz’s chair.
I watch him get comfortable. He shifts his bum, sits up straight and leans back, claiming the space.
‘I’m Jordi, by the way,’ he says, offering me a handshake.
I mutely shake his hand. Jordi looks at me, clearly baffled by my silence. I’m looking at him too but thinking about Diz, wondering what he’d say.
Diz: You know we’re Lebs, right?
Jordan: I guess.
Diz: And you know you’re an Ozzie?
Jordan: Yeah, why?
Diz: Nah, nothing. It’s cool, bro. Take a seat. And here, have a chip. Salt and vinegar, bro. They’re the best. You got a car?
I chuckle quietly.
‘What’s funny?’ Jordi asks, smiling.
‘Nah, nothing. I’m Romeo,’ I say. ‘Where are you from?’
‘Just moved from South Africa.’
‘Yeah? I thought you were Australian.’
‘I was born here but we moved to South Africa when I was a baby.’
‘That explains the accent,’ I say.
‘Yeah.’
‘Well, if you need someone to show you round …’
‘That’d be great. Thanks.’
‘ROMEO MAKHLOUF!’
Ah, Mrs Bankovic’s ear-piercing voice. That’s the Christian Boys welcome. It makes Jordi jump and slap his fingers to his ears.
It makes me grin.
I know you’re watching, Diz. And laughing.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
To my publisher, Hilary Rogers, I am indebted to you for taking a chance on me. You understood Romeo from the beginning and coaxed more out of me when I thought there was nothing left.
Thank you to the creative team at Hardie Grant Egmont, in particular, Penelope White: you made the process easy for a debut author.
Huge thanks to Irina Dunn. Your knowledge and direction was instrumental in getting me over the line. To my fabulous writers’ group: Kay Bell, Kelli Bradicich, Kate Shelley and Rae Eather. You’ve been there from the beginning, girls. Your ongoing support and encouragement is truly treasured.
To my beautiful husband, Charlie, thank you for always taking care of me. You are my constant and my forever.
Amanda and Joey, my seriously cool kids, how could I possibly have understood the modern teenage way without your input? Thank you for always explaining ‘things’.
To the wonderful backers in my life who read the manuscript or offered encouraging words, my appreciation is heartfelt.
Finally, thank you to you, the reader. You picked it up, read it, and made a dream come true.
Bro
published in 2015 by
Hardie Grant Egmont
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eISBN 9781743583951
Text copyright © 2015 Helen Chebatte
Design and illustration copyright © 2015 Hardie Grant Egmont
Cover design by Design by Committee
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