Thursday April 8

Brisk morning wind pushed down the corridors of St Francis, past rowdy queues of juniors waiting to be let into their science labs or rushing late to maths, and Richard followed it. The crowds made way for him.

They’d talked for a while, last night. Again, it had been pretty easy, even though he knew there was something more going on. He could sense the question that she wasn’t asking: are we going out? Is that what this is?

In Mr Gerrold’s room he took his usual seat beside Scott and they both produced their folders, knowing the routine. Richard removed his essay and with a small stapler from his bag he carefully clipped the corner. Scott solemnly presented his own essay and Richard clipped that as well.

Mr Gerrold entered, already talking. ‘Essays done, gentlemen?’ He nodded approvingly at the affirmative mumbles and handed over the essay box to be passed around.

‘Not me,’ said Kane, a burly member of the first fifteen.

‘And why not, Mr Winters?’

Kane was leaning back with his chair balanced on two legs. ‘Cos I didn’t do it.’

Mr Gerrold crunched his lips. ‘And it’ll be ready when?’

‘How about Monday then eh Mr Gerrold?’

‘The usual penalties, Mr Winters. Try not to keep this trend going.’

‘Nah nah no worries eh.’

Richard felt Scott nudge him in the ribs and he realised his eyes had been closing. He blinked himself awake. Scott whispered, ‘Late night?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Because of essay or because of Kirsty?’

‘Bit of both.’

‘On the night before the big basketball trial, huh? Not like you, Rich. So when do I finally get to meet this chick?’

‘Friday. I asked her last night if she wanted to hang out with us all on Friday, so, yeah.’

‘Hey, cool. So you’ve got over that attack of nerves or whatever that was all about? That’s cool.’

‘I guess so.’

‘And, I gotta ask, is she bringing friends? Cousins? Cute single neighbours?’

‘Nope.’

‘Maaan, I hope you’re not gonna tell me she doesn’t know anyone. How the hell are Adam and me meant to get any action if you’re not trawling the girl pool for us? Geez. We’ll both be virgins forever.’

‘Adam asked me about that the other day. About the ball.’

‘The ball? But that’s, what, ten million years away. He’s stressing about that already? I thought he was busy stressing about tonight. He can multistress? Shit. I’m almost impressed.’

‘I told him to relax.’

‘Yeah. Hell, he’s as dateless as I am, and I’m not stressing. And he’s several steps ahead of me anyway, because at least he’s had a friend or two who didn’t have a penis.’

‘You’ve had female friends.’

‘Not cute ones.’ Scott screwed up his nose. ‘Keep in mind, Rich, we’re both counting on you here. Like General Kenobi, you are our only hope.’

‘And Dennis.’

‘Dennis doesn’t count. There’s gotta be a quota system he’s in breach of.’ Scott glanced up at Mr Gerrold, who was finally beginning the lesson, and dropped his voice back to the whisper he’d started out with. ‘Besides, he’s not the sharing type.’

‘He can pass a basketball.’

‘Well, if basketballs had vaginas he might not be so generous.’

Richard looked at Scott, shook his head, and turned his attention to the lesson.

The gymnasium was one of the school’s better facilities. The ceiling had recently been repaired, new lighting had been installed, and the windows had been cleaned up. The floor was due for work later in the year. It was old and sun-bleached. Painted courtlines for a half-dozen sports wound over and through each other in a complex knot. The basketball hoops at each end were mounted on sagging iron struts that could in theory be folded in against the wall, but this mechanism never worked. The caretaker insisted on blaming this on ‘monkey idiots hanging from the baskets’. Richard hated that refrain, probably because he was taking it all a bit too personally.

Richard crossed back and forth over the centre line with the ball. He was working on his dribble, figuring that was his weak spot. The gym had ten other bodies in it – just enough for a functional team. Was that gonna be it? Eleven people?

Adam was sitting on a bench next to Viane Vailini. They weren’t talking. Viane, a sixth former, looked only slightly less nervous than Adam, but Richard figured he could handle himself. He’d probably respond well to a bit of coaching.

Ray was engaged in a three-point shootout with James and Tane Peters. Tane had his American accent down, and it seemed he’d got in shape for the trial by memorising coarse dialogue from movies about the ghetto. He seemed to be sinking a lot of shots, as his endless reservoir of abuse continually pointed out. All three of them had confidence. Ray was a natural point guard. They’d all be very useful.

Dennis practised his shooting on the same hoop. He nailed release after release with fluid precision.

Scott was with Lio at the other end of the court playing two on two against Chris Tala and Kelvin Young. Kelvin darted through the defence, laughing as he forced a shot which landed high on the backboard. Lio grabbed the rebound, roaring theatrically. Chris and Lio both had a bit of beef to them, good strong forwards, and Kelvin could back Ray up at the point guard spot. It wasn’t looking too bad.

Richard spotted the P.E. teacher in the doorway. Mr Sheldon put his hands on his hips, his dangling whistle catching the light. He was a short, spry man on the wrong side of forty. Richard liked him well enough, even if he did seem to believe that any uncoordinated youth could become a sportsman if he did enough pushups and had a will to succeed.

Conversation eased as Sheldon entered, and the trialists converged around the bench where Adam and Viane were sitting. When they saw who followed Sheldon into the gym, talking stopped completely.

‘Right, shut up,’ Sheldon said. ‘This is Damon Taylor, from the Hutt Valley Shakers. He’s agreed to coach you lot, which is a real privilege for us. So don’t screw it up by being idiots, all right?’

Damon Taylor was six three with a frame built for quickness. His skin was black, American black like on TV. Everyone noticed that. He wore a tight cap on a shaved head and the logo on his shorts matched the one on his shoes. Richard figured his accent as somewhere central east – Baltimore? He couldn’t tell. He’d never really developed an ear for that stuff before he left the U.S.

‘Thanks, Hamish,’ Damon said. ‘Hey guys. My name’s Damon Taylor. You can call me Damon or Coach, as you like, but when we’re working or competing you always call me Coach. It’ll keep your mind on the game. Now I understand St Francis hasn’t had a basketball team for some years, so we’re gonna have to do some rebuilding here. We’re going into second division competition, all right? That’s a tough one at the moment, don’t be fooled. We play well this year, we’ll look at our options for next year.

‘Now, appreciate this – I’m gonna demand professionalism from you. That means commitment. You got to be ready to go where you need to go. How many we got here? Eleven? We got eleven people. That’s a good squad. And if eleven of you are prepared to come here and practice hard, then you’re all in. So welcome to the team.’

Richard heard Dennis murmur, ‘Good speech.’

Scott whispered agreement. ‘No cue cards.’

Damon glanced at Sheldon, who stuck out his chin and glared at the squad. ‘Well then,’ Mr Sheldon said. ‘There will be a meeting next week to sort out uniforms and all that. I need to sort that out. For now, you lot are in his capable hands. Don’t be idiots. Damon, they’re all yours.’

Damon didn’t miss a beat. ‘All right! Any questions before we get into some drills?’

There was a moment of silence. Richard stood up. ‘No questions, Coach.’

‘In that case, dribbling drill, I want four lines on the baseline…’

The new team got down to work.

Tuesday April 6

The Hutt Valley was a wedge scooped out of rolling hills. The triangle began with the long Petone shoreline, where the settlers had landed, and continued north between eastern and western hills. To the south, across the large comma-shaped harbour that tailed out into the Cook Strait, was Wellington city. Richard had been a bit surprised when he discovered that the Hutt had a reputation for black jeans and brown faces. Eventually he realised that was because most of the Hutt’s white middle class spent all their time in the city. Lower Hutt wasn’t a suburb, but wasn’t quite its own place either.

St Francis was on a long street lined with green lawns and high walls and European cars in the driveways. Richard walked it with Adam. They were in basketball casuals, school uniforms stuffed in their bags. Another shoot-around after school, this time with James Travers and a couple of guys from form six who were going to try for the team, Lio Manuele in his beanie with his jacket zipped up to his chin, and Ray Atoa, impeccably groomed as always. Richard figured Lio for a good strong forward, especially sharp with rebounding. Ray was a ball handler, with a few nice moves and a deft hand at passing. It had been a promising session. It was coming together.

Richard hitched his thumb under a bag-strap and kept an eye on the clouds. Cars whirred past, the beginning of what passed for rush hour in the Hutt. Sunlight filtered down through the clouds and a breeze rippled the leaves on bushes and trees. Richard could walk this route with his eyes closed if he wanted to. Every weekday he walked to and from school, since he’d arrived five years ago.

And soon he’d be leaving.

‘Rich?’

‘Mmm?’

Adam stared at his feet and coughed. ‘Have you been thinking about the ball?’

The ball. Prom night. God, not even the slightest, given the other things he had pressing into his thoughts all the time. The ball was a very long way away. ‘No, I really haven’t.’

‘Oh.’

Richard waited for three cars to pass before following up. He figured that was enough time. ‘You’re asking about the ball because...’

‘Oh, I was just thinking. You know.’ Adam shrugged, his shoulders rising and falling heavily. ‘We’re going to go, though, aren’t we?’

‘I would guess so.’

‘And, well. We’ll go all four of us together?’

‘Sure.’

‘We have to find partners. To go with.’

Richard had figured where this was headed a few questions back. ‘Yeah. That won’t be a problem.’

‘Maybe not for you,’ Adam said. ‘I mean, I was thinking about it all last night, and I don’t even know where I’d find someone to ask.’

‘There are girls all over the place. Don’t worry about it.’

‘But I don’t know any girls any more. I mean, I can’t talk to any of them. I just end up being that tall guy who follows you and Dennis around. They don’t see me like that.’

‘Like what? Listen, if you’re comparing yourself to Dennis, don’t. They don’t see any of us like they see him. Dennis has that aura thing going on. I don’t know anyone else who has that.’

‘Yeah, well, I know I don’t. And I just keep going around with you guys, and that’s not going to get me anywhere. But I don’t know what will. I don’t know how I can meet anyone else, I don’t know anyone at church now the youth group’s gone. It’s stupid, I know, but I can just see that it’s going to be a disaster.’

‘Don’t stress,’ Richard said. ‘It’s ages away. You just need to find some girl you’re friendly with and ask her. Not even friends, just friendly. Girls love to go to these things and you’re a nice guy, so just relax, okay?’

Adam nodded gloomily as they walked. ‘Are you going to go with Kirsty?’

‘It’s a bit early to start making plans, isn’t it?’

‘She’s nice, isn’t she.’

‘Yep.’ Richard nodded. ‘She is.’

Richard had no idea if she was going to be waiting for him to call. He wasn’t sure he wanted to dial her number. Standing there with the phone in his hand and the number in his head – it was like the number wanted to be dialled. It felt inevitable.

Things over the weekend had been kind of crazy. He hadn’t felt like himself, and everything had gone maybe a little bit too far, too fast. Maybe. He wasn’t sure he did think that. He had no idea what she would be thinking. And he had no idea what he’d say if he called her. Maybe he should ask if she wanted to go somewhere? But then where would they go, and what would he say when they got there? Friday and Saturday had gone in a rush but now they’d both had time to reflect, and he’d reflected. He’d pretty much done nothing else but reflect for the last three days.

As if he didn’t have enough to worry about.

His parents were trying to be relaxed about the move but it wasn’t helping. He didn’t want to start thinking about that, and thinking about Kirsty was a good distraction. Maybe too good. He was overthinking Kirsty and underthinking the fact his life was going to turn completely upside down. He was supposed to be handling this, not falling apart like a kid. And he still hadn’t told the guys. How could he when he didn’t even know how to handle it himself?

He’d always known exactly how it should go. His parents would have said ‘we’re going home’ and he would have nodded sagely and begun folding up his life person by person, telling each one of them how it was going to be, clear and calm. The girls would cry and he’d let them hold him, but only for a little while. Life would grind to a slow and perfect halt, and then he’d turn away from them all and walk on to the plane without looking over his shoulder. That was how he’d always planned it.

Except that life was refusing to stop for him. It was like a fire in the bush, raging out of control. Funny how he hadn’t noticed its tendency to do that.

He couldn’t leave calling too late, or she’d not be waiting. He couldn’t call too early or he’d seem overeager. He couldn’t sit still, which left him pacing helplessly around the room in his socks.

He liked her, of course. And she liked him. It was just everything else that made it complicated.

There was mud in the white carpet. He must have had mud on his shoes. How had he not noticed the mud on his shoes? How distracted was he by all this? Mud in the carpet. On top of everything else it seemed a ridiculous tiny nuisance. This wasn’t how he was. He was meant to be always on top of things, even the little details. Doing things. Making it happen. He snatched up the offending shoe and opened the window, banging it outside to knock the mud away.

The cold air hit his face in a rush. It was dark and the houses were lit up like lanterns. Sods of earth arced away from the shoe, twisting down through the air. Everything was distant. Richard looked sideways and he could almost see her piece of hill.

Handle it. Make it happen. No-one else is going to.

He left the window open and dialled her number.

Sunday April 4

The hillside grew dark as the four guys settled into Adam’s living room. Richard’s fingers turned his car keys over and over. Adam put the video they’d hired down on the coffee table.

Scott immediately picked it up again. ‘This movie is gonna suck so bad.’

Dennis was on the couch. ‘It could be good.’

‘It won’t be good. You always pick the dumbest movies. Its like you have a special radar for detecting complete shit. Almost a super power, really.’

‘It could be good.’

‘No fucking chance.’

Adam cleared his throat. ‘Um, Scott? My family are all home, so, please?’

‘Yeah yeah yeah. PG-13 language only.’ Scott sat crosslegged by the fireplace. ‘So, Rich. Gonna tell us about your Friday night?’

Richard was over at the picture window, looking out at the city. ‘Huh?’

‘Are you going to share the news? Who was she? What’s going on? Why are you staring out the window sighing like Romeo thinking about Juliet?’

‘Oh.’ He turned to face the others, silhouetted against the evening sky, the clouds reflecting city light. ‘That.’

‘Oh, please. You’ve been preoccupied since, what, Thursday? And since it’s now Sunday and you still haven’t volunteered any information, the time has come for your trusted neglected friends to dig a little.’

Richard folded his arms. ‘Not much to tell.’

‘Start with her name.’

Dennis spoke up. ‘Kirsty Rhodes. Goes to Hutt High. Pretty.’

Scott’s eyes narrowed. ‘Waitasecond, how do you know this? Richard, please don’t tell me you spilled your guts to this chump but held out on me. Say it ain’t so.’

‘Ran into them,’ Dennis said.

Adam was interested. ‘Is that the Kirsty Rhodes who lives just down the hill? I’ve met her. She is pretty.’

‘Oh, for fuck’s sake.’ Scott put his hands up. ‘And Adam’s met her too? What the hell is going on here? Adam, go get some food so I can throw it at you.’

Adam went to the kitchen. Richard took the other seat on the couch, still silent. He noticed Scott staring at him. ‘What?’

‘You’re thinking about her right now, aren’t you?’

Richard didn’t answer but he didn’t try to hide it. He was thinking about a lot of things.

‘Is that right? She lives just down the road?’ Scott smiled broadly. ‘Give her a call! Invite her up! Watching a bad post-apocalypse action movie with her new boyfriend, how could she resist?’

‘It might be good,’ Dennis said.

Richard shook his head. ‘I’m not her boyfriend. It’s just a thing.’

‘So far it’s just a thing. Oh, come on, fucking hell. The others have met her, give me a chance to catch up why don’t you?’

‘Shit, Scott.’ Richard was getting irritated. ‘Why don’t you ask Dennis about his date on Friday?’

‘Because those stories are always the same. Den meets girl, Den puts tongue in girl’s throat, Den puts hand in girl’s pants, Den sleeps with her, Den doesn’t call her, girl cries, Den meets the next girl. Boring. Old news. But you, Rich, you don’t get together with anyone hardly ever. So this counts as interesting.’

Richard wasn’t in the mood to answer. He’d been thinking in non-stop circles for an entire weekend and it was starting to wear him out.

Adam reappeared with 7-Up and glasses and a bowl of chippies. ‘Hey guys,’ he said. ‘Look who I found.’

Following him into the room was a young woman with a confident smile. The girl put her hands on her hips. ‘It’s the Hutt boys! Holy crap, you all look exactly the same.’

‘Lauren!’ Scott said, unable to hide his surprise.

‘Why, the gambler himself. How are things, Scott?’

‘Ah, yeah, good. You?’

‘Likewise, always.’ She pointed one forefinger at Richard and the other at Dennis, like a two-gun cowgirl shooting from the hip. ‘Now – let’s see if I get the names around the right way. Richard? And Dennis.’

Lauren was Adam’s cousin. Richard had met her the last time she’d been visiting, a year ago, playing cards in Adam’s room for hours.

‘So what’s the story, boys? Pretending to be all grown up?’

Scott stood up. ‘No more than you.’

‘Hell, I’m not pretending.’

‘Leave it out, you’re just one year ahead of us.’

Lauren’s eyebrows curved merrily. ‘The thing is, I feel so much older.’

Dennis spoke up from the couch. ‘I wouldn’t mind checking that for myself.’

Lauren rewarded him with a grin and sat on the spare armchair. ‘So what’s this movie? Oh, jesus. This looks sub-Chuck Norris. Who chose this?’

‘That’s a classic Dennis video pick,’ Scott said.

‘Nice work, Dennis. An appreciation for the worst cinema ever made. It takes soul to enjoy shit like this, know what I mean?’

Richard let himself smile as the wind came out of Scott’s sails.

Adam poured drinks and handed them out while Dennis kept up the chat. ‘So what are you doing here? Adam didn’t mention anything.’

‘I guess I’m the Sunday night surprise. You guys been up to much today?’

‘Playing basketball,’ Adam said. ‘We have trials for the team on Thursday so we’re practising.’

Lauren tucked her legs up into the chair and sat cross-legged. ‘Nice one. I never quite know, does a day of sport make guys more or less manageable? Does it bleed off testosterone or just get more of it pumping?’

Dennis looked amused. ‘What, you like us manageable?’

‘Of course. Guys are beasts, especially in groups. Wild as a troop of rogue baboons. I prefer you a bit less horny.’

Dennis arched an eyebrow. ‘How much less?’

Lauren narrowed her eyes, amused. ‘Good girls never tell.’

Scott coughed to catch some attention. ‘So how long are you in town?’

‘Leaving tomorrow, I’m afraid. Just here for the weekend actually.

‘I must have forgot to say,’ Adam said, looking guilty.

‘He was under orders,’ Lauren grinned. ‘I’m here undercover, top-secret two-day scouting mission, couldn’t mention my presence under pain of death.’

Scott smiled at this. ‘Who are you hiding from?’

‘The real-world people who want me to get a job and a life and stuff. But that’s okay, I think I’ve found a good place to hide for the next few years – design school, ta da! It sounds real, doesn’t it? That’s why it’s perfect.’

‘You’re going to study design?’

Lauren nodded. ‘I’m taking an intro course next half, to see how I like it, you know? Photography and drawing and stuff. So are we gonna watch this thing?’

‘We’re just waiting for Richard to invite his new girlfriend up,’ Scott said. ‘Isn’t that right, Rich?’

Richard took a moment to respond – he’d been quite enjoying staying out of the chatter. ‘Nope.’

Lauren leaned towards Richard, fascinated. ‘Why not? You’re hiding her from your friends? Are you ashamed of my cousin, is that it?’

‘Nothing like that.’

‘Then what?’

There were a bunch of reasons, most of them in his gut instinct that it would be a bad idea. Richard shrugged. ‘If I bring her up here, and she meets all of you guys, then it gets all complicated, you know?’

Dennis nodded agreement. ‘No control.’

Lauren seemed satisfied. ‘Guys are fascinating,’ she said.

They all settled in to watch the video. Richard’s mind was miles away, thinking about Kirsty, thinking about leaving, thinking about getting serious. Thinking about screwing up.

‘Rogue baboons,’ Dennis said. ‘I like that.’

Lauren grinned at him.

Saturday April 3

Richard and Kirsty met on the steps outside the art museum. Kirsty grinned as she saw him. ‘Hey, stranger. How’d you sleep?’

‘Not long enough.’ Richard leaned in and kissed her.

Kirsty let it linger, then took his hand. ‘Woo. Hah. Okay. So, now what?’

‘Well, I don’t have a car. So I guess we go for a walk, maybe find somewhere for lunch?’

‘Cool.’ Their fingers intertwined.

Richard felt bleary. They’d neither of them had much sleep, getting in very late and rather stupidly deciding to meet at noon. Or maybe not so stupid – why waste time sleeping? He remembered last night on the beach, her naked beneath him. He hadn’t stopped thinking about making love to her since he’d said goodbye. He was thinking about it right now. It was making him hard just being next to her, and that was actually sort of uncomfortable, but man, it was good to be here, to be walking in step with a girl he liked and who liked him back. He hadn’t slept with anyone for ages. Was it a problem that when he glanced at her and smiled he just kept thinking about the having sex? Probably not. It was probably normal. Sure.

This was going well. It helped him not think about the whole going-home thing.

As they walked up towards the High Street Kirsty tugged on his hand. ‘Let’s go through the gardens.’

‘Not going to find much lunch that way.’

‘I’m not hungry. Are you hungry? Come on.’

They crossed the street and wandered into Riddiford Gardens, tidy lawns and attractive flowerbeds. Young families sat with their children, elderly couples walked by, a couple of kids riding BMX bikes raced along the path. There was a cold breeze but as long as the sun didn’t disappear behind clouds it wasn’t too bad. Kirsty talked about the Little Theatre nearby, dancing shows she’d been in when she was small, the stupid stuff they’d got up to backstage. It was easy, being together. The conversation never paused, never got difficult.

Richard was caught by surprise when Dennis appeared. They were passing the library and he came through its doors, right in front of them. Without thinking Richard let go of Kirsty’s hand and stepped a tiny distance away, but it was obvious Dennis had already clocked them. He gave Richard a nod.

Dennis had a smaller companion who wasn’t so restrained: ‘Richard!’ The boy ran over to him, holding out a picture book.

Richard bent down. ‘Hey Joe, how are you?’

‘Look at this! It’s got pictures of all the motorcycles – see? It was an adult book but Dennis got it out for me, isn’t it cool? I’ll show you the one I’m going to get.’ He pressed it into Richard’s hands and started turning pages while Richard held it. ‘It’s just here somewhere, um...’

Dennis had a bunch of other books under his arm, most of which looked like they were Joe’s books. ‘Hey Rich. Hi Kirsty.’

Kirsty smiled at him. ‘Hey Dennis.’

Richard looked up from Joe’s book. ‘You guys know each other?’

Dennis shrugged. ‘It’s the Hutt. Everyone knows everyone.’

Richard patted Joe on the shoulder. ‘How are you keeping, little man?’

Joe was still searching for the right motorcycle so he didn’t look up from the pages. ‘I’m good. Dennis says you’re going to be in a basketball team? And he says with you on the team you guys can’t lose.’

‘I don’t know about that,’ Richard said, giving Dennis a glance.

Dennis put a hand on his brother’s arm, pulling him away as he spoke to Richard: ‘You don’t believe that.’

‘What, that we’re gonna win all the time?’

‘We don’t screw up. How else can it go? Come on, Joe, we have to move.’

Joseph took the book back reluctantly. ‘I’ll show you it next time.’

They all said their farewells and headed off in different directions. Kirsty took his hand back as they walked. ‘So. You guys are friends?’

‘Yeah.’ There was something a bit off in her tone but he couldn’t stop thinking about what Dennis had said. We don’t screw up. He couldn’t think of a time he’d screwed up, or Dennis. It just didn’t happen.

‘What are you thinking about?’

‘Huh. Screwing up, I guess.’

Kirsty pulled him up and spun to face him. Then she kissed him hard on the lips.

‘You didn’t screw up with me,’ she said.

And he kissed her back.

Friday April 2

The basketball hoop at St Francis was an iron ring mounted on a steel-mesh backboard. After it rained kids would drag over benches and take turns jumping and hanging, and the whole structure would shake and drip rust on the concrete in great orange splatters. Court markings in yellow were slowly getting scuffed off the concrete, flake by flake, as seasons passed. Four pairs of sneakers at work.

Richard was under the hoop. He set himself up there, standing strong, waiting for the play to come to him. An arm’s length away was Adam, on the other team. Adam was a bit taller than Richard but he didn’t play like it. Richard hoped to change that sometime.

Richard’s team-mate Scott close by, in easy reach of Adam if the pass came down that way, but mostly lined up to guard the fourth player, Dennis. Dennis had the ball at the top of the court, and he was standing there bouncing it, in no hurry to make a move.

‘He’s gonna drive right at me. I got him,’ said Scott.

Richard nodded. ‘Go on then.’

Scott moved a few paces closer to Dennis. ‘Den, you don’t get this. This one is not for you.’

Dennis smiled and made his move. He faked a step to the right then switched his weight to go left, the ball crossing back and forth with him, so smooth and fast that Scott was left scrambling. Richard had expected something like that. Dennis had that quick first step, and Scott just wasn’t able to match it, despite his bravado. As Dennis came in, Richard moved to block his path, arms spread in an imposing defensive wall.

Dennis didn’t seem at all bothered. He flicked his wrist and the ball slipped past Richard into Adam’s hands. Adam was now unguarded right by the basket, with a clear look for an easy two-point shot.

Scott was racing past Richard, and shouting: ‘Don’t you dare shoot that!’

Adam hesitated. That gave Scott the time he needed to get there and stick arms right up in his face. Richard watched them compete. Adam had a good few inches on Scott, but he didn’t seem capable of taking advantage of his height. Scott was chattering the whole time, ‘Come on Adam, shoot it and get blocked, come on, come on!’

Then Adam scrunched up his face, pivoted clear, and took the shot. Richard saw his head snap back as Scott’s elbow caught his chin. The ball flew past the hoop, missing completely, and Adam fell back with a yell.

Richard and Dennis both came over. Adam sat on his haunches, rubbing his chin with both hands. ‘Ow!’

‘Come on, what are we stopped for?’ Scott demanded.

‘Cool it, Scott,’ said Richard, waiting for Adam to call a foul or let the contact go.

‘Foul!’ Adam said, upset.

Scott threw up his hands. ‘What? That was no foul!’

‘It’s his call,’ Richard said. ‘You always pull that bullshit.’

‘Hey, I know what I’m doing,’ Scott said, bristling.

‘Bully,’ Dennis said. He was grinning. Richard felt the tension between him and Scott disappear, just like that.

Scott threw up his hands, more play-acting than real now. ‘All right, all right, whatever. Take it. Come on, let’s go.’

Dennis extended a hand to pull Adam up. Even though Dennis was wire-thin and much shorter than Adam he seemed to lift him effortlessly. ‘Let’s finish,’ he said to his partner. ‘You take the ball this time.’

Richard set up in the centre again. He caught his mind wandering and forced it to focus back on the game, watching as Adam scooped up the ball and got ready to pass it.

Dennis spun and dodged, trying to stay free long enough for Adam to get the ball to him. Scott raced after him, throwing up a burly arm to cut off any pass. It was hard work. Dennis was dodging out from Scott’s defence as fast as Scott could set it.

While they jockeyed for position, Richard remained still and kept his eye on Adam. The big guy clearly wasn’t sure what to do. Dennis wasn’t giving him an easy option. Adam was going to have to do some work right from the start here. That was interesting. Dennis was working on Adam too, then.

Eventually Adam started to dribble the ball, coming in a few steps. This drew Richard in closer. The shift created just enough space for just long enough. Dennis darted into the gap and called: ‘Yep!’ Adam seized the chance and hurled the ball through, barely clearing Richard’s attempt to intercept it. The pass went exactly where it needed to. Dennis claimed it and sailed along the court’s yellow baseline, then switched directions and sliced inwards. He was right under the hoop, but Scott and Richard were both there too, leaping to stop the shot –

Dennis waited for them both to come down and then curled up past them, laying the ball into the basket.

The moment the ball fell back to earth, Scott kicked it into the fence. ‘Fuck! Fucking shitting fuck!’

Dennis was relaxed. ‘Me and Adam, raining on you.’

Scott threw up his hands. ‘Yeah, yeah, game, you win.’ He hitched up his tee-shirt to wipe the sweat off his brow.

‘Just some rain on your face.’

Scott punched him in the arm. ‘Dick.’

Richard went over to Adam and clapped his shoulder. ‘Picked up some new bruises?’

Adam checked himself, breathing hard. ‘Um. Nothing terribly fatal.’

‘That pass at the end was sweet.’

‘You almost got it, though. I don’t know, passing isn’t one of my strengths is it? You know, this trial… I mean, we are being trialled, right?’

‘That’s the idea.’ Richard could already see where this was going, but he let Adam play it out.

‘It’s just, you know? I haven’t played any proper sport for ages, and, I don’t know. I’m not sure. With coaches and stuff. Trials to see if you make the team.’

‘You’ll be fine.’

Adam didn’t look convinced.

Richard went to his schoolbag for a drink bottle. As he sucked down the water, warm from the afternoon sun, he could hear shouts from the rugby fields. The curse of basketball in New Zealand – everyone played rugby instead. Dennis knelt beside him, getting his own bottle out. ‘Will he be cool?’ he asked, nodding towards Adam.

Richard checked to make sure Adam wasn’t in earshot before replying. ‘Yeah, he’ll be fine. And he’ll make the team. He’s dedicated, he knows the game, he’s tall – any coach would have him.’

‘But we still don’t know who’s coaching?’

‘Nope.’ Richard took another drink.

‘You could do it.’

Richard grinned. ‘You guys’d never listen to me.’

‘You played like shit, by the way.’ Dennis looked at him casually. ‘Distracted.’

Richard didn’t answer. He wasn’t ready to share just yet.

‘Not just now, either,’ Dennis continued. ‘All day you were staring out of windows.’

Before Dennis could pursue the subject, Scott stepped closer, his voice dropping. ‘Guys. Company.’

James Travers was coming over. Bleached hair and a stud in his earlobe, wearing a rugby league shirt. He sometimes played at lunchtime but he was no friend of theirs.

‘Hey,’ Richard said.

‘Hey guys,’ James replied. ‘Shit, don’t stop on my account.’

Richard stayed face-on to James. He felt the others assemble behind him. ‘What’s up?’

‘Not much, eh? I just figured you guys would know the score with that basketball team thing. Mr Sheldon tell you anything?’

Scott’s eyes narrowed. ‘Why do you care?’

‘Why do you think? Might try out. Do you reckon?’

Scott and Dennis exchanged a glance.

Richard nodded. ‘Sure. You can play, we know that.’

‘Ah, I’m okay. Nothing like you guys.’

Scott slapped Adam in the chest. ‘Too right. Hell, Adam’s become a dominating giant. Game is burning in his belly!’

James grinned. ‘Shit, yeah, Adam, between you and Rich we’ve got the height thing covered. You ready to slamdunk for St Frank’s?’

Adam looked even more uncomfortable. ‘Uh… I can’t dunk. I can nearly do it. But, ah. Not quite.’

As Adam stumbled to the end of his answer, Dennis came forward, stealing James’ attention. He was bouncing the ball. He eyed up James, then turned and took a long-range shot. The ball dropped neatly through the hoop.

‘Shot,’ James said.

‘Have you heard who’s gonna be the coach?’ Dennis asked.

‘No, who?’

‘No-one knows. Sheldon’s keeping it secret.’

‘Huh. Well, I guess we find out next week.’ The ball bounced towards James so he took a shot, rimming it out. ‘Hey, I might come and play with you guys after school next week. Get my game on, you know? That cool?’

‘Sure,’ Richard said.

‘All right. Look, I’ll leave you guys to it, okay?. See you later.’

‘Have a good weekend,’ Richard said.

James headed off. The foursome looked at each other.

Scott flexed his hands as he spoke. ‘Is it just me, or did he actually neglect to insult any of us just now?’

‘He’s still a dick,’ said Dennis.

‘Oh my god, is he ever still a dick,’ Scott said. ‘ “You ready to slamdunk for St Franks?” You got to be fucking kidding me.’

‘He can play,’ Richard said.

Scott shook his head. ‘So we have to be friends with him now? Fuck off. Four years of dickery doesn’t go away just like that.’

Dennis considered this. ‘Yeah.’

‘See, Dennis agrees with me!’

‘Yeah, he can play.’

Scott made a disgusted sound. Richard grinned. James and the other guys from their class weren’t too bad, not really. Sure, they were dicks sometimes, and they’d made life miserable for Scott in particular before now, but what the hell. This was their last year at school. Things were meant to be different this year.

Adam turned to catch Scott’s attention: ‘Hey, Scott, what did you say about me? What’s burning in my belly?’

‘At the moment? Nothing. Your belly has sprinklers and that fire extinguisher foam. Hey, so we up again? Another game? I’m just hotting up here.’ Scott tried to spin the ball on his finger and failed miserably. ‘And, what are we doing tonight? Movies or something?’

Adam shook his head. ‘I have to look after my brother.’

‘So party at your place!’

Richard cut in. ‘I’m busy too.’ He had made plans for tonight. ‘You as well, Den?’

Dennis nodded.

Scott looked at the others with disapproval. He pointed at Dennis’s chest. ‘I’m feeling fucking betrayed right now.’

Dennis shrugged.

‘Well, fuck the lot of you. I’ll go and learn macrame or some shit. I’ll make some new friends in the Hutt’s happening macrame scene and hang out with them. At least I know they’ll be free on Friday fucking night. What are you doing, anyway?’

‘Date,’ Dennis said.

‘Yeah, well I could have fucking guessed that couldn’t I. Who with this time? Someone new? Of course it’s someone new, it’s always someone new. Do we know her?’

‘Nope.’

‘How the hell do you meet all these girls? Some kind of voodoo sex magic?’

‘Pretty much.’

‘God damn. What about you, Rich?’

Richard was only half-listening. ‘What?’

‘Your plans tonight?’

‘I’m meeting up with someone.’

‘A girl? No way. You have a date too? Fuck. I don’t want to talk about it. Let’s play another game. Dennis, you’re with me.’

Adam slouched back on to the court, following Scott. Dennis paused and caught Richard’s eye.

They started the new game.

The Kings had two cars, one for Daniel’s work and one for the family. Richard’s parents were both staying in tonight, and that meant he could drive his father’s car. It was late-model and American-made, leather interior, good stereo. When Richard was behind the wheel with the road disappearing under him he felt old and wealthy and slightly corrupt. He never got tired of it.

Richard pulled up in front of Kirsty’s house and turned off the ignition. Her house was near Adam’s, not quite as far up the hill. After she gave him her number he’d checked out all the Rhodes in the white pages and figured out where she lived. He’d made a point of working out which house was hers the next time he’d come up to visit Adam. Maybe that was a bit stalkerish, but he’d been curious.

He got out and locked the car, then walked down the path to Kirsty’s front door. The house was one of those deceptive hillside designs, apparently small but with several storeys extending downwards. A nice, ordinary house.

He was nervous and distracted. He was going home. He was going on a date with Kirsty.

Handle it.

He rang the bell and the door opened a moment later to reveal a boy with a suspicious frown. ‘Who are you?’

‘Come away from there, Simon, leave the poor boy alone.’ Kirsty’s mother appeared in the hallway and put a firm hand on the boy’s shoulder. She extended the other hand. ‘Nice to meet you, Richard.’

‘Nice to meet you, ma’am.’

Mrs Rhodes smiled. ‘Ma’am. Well how about that. Come on in, we’ll close the door, don’t let all the heat out.’ As Richard came in she steered Simon through one of the other doors and called out, ‘Kirsty, come and rescue Richard before your father turns up and gets chatting to him. Then you’ll never get away from here. Better move fast!’

With those two gone Richard found himself alone again. He was in Kirsty’s house. He swallowed, straightened his back, put his hands in his pockets and then took them out again. Then put them back in. What was he going to talk about? He’d have to make conversation. They were going on a date.

There was only one thing he could talk about.

Kirsty appeared at the end of the hall, apologetic. ‘Hi! Sorry about that.’ She looked great – jeans and a white top, with her brown hair hanging loose around her face.

‘No problem.’

‘Mum, I’m going!’

Richard heard Mrs Rhodes reply, ‘Have fun. Don’t be too late.’

‘Come on,’ Kirsty said, ushering him out and closing the door. They crossed the lawn to his car. ‘Oh wow. This is your car?’

‘My dad’s car.’

‘It’s beautiful. What’s it like to drive? Our family just has this big ratty old station wagon that smells of petrol and roars like a hippo when you drive it uphill. Which happens pretty often, because we live on a hill.’

Richard unlocked the car and opened the passenger door for her. She slid into the seat and by the time Richard got to the driver’s door she’d popped that lock.

The light stayed on when Richard closed his door. He checked the dash – ‘I think your door isn’t closed properly.’

‘Oh, man,’ Kirsty bit her lip. ‘I’ll try again.’

‘Don’t be too gentle. It isn’t a China cabinet.’

She tried again and the door closed properly. ‘Success!’

Richard turned on the ignition and pulled out into the road. They were both quiet while he got the car moving. Then the drive was underway and they were both still quiet. Richard thought it was up to him to start a conversation but he didn’t know what to say. The view of the harbour coming down the hill reminded him of the photo on his living room wall.

Kirsty said, ‘It’s a nice night, isn’t it? No clouds.’

‘Yeah. And quiet.’

They drove a little way further. Richard thought about Dennis, who’d clicked that something was up, even faster than Scott by the looks of things. Although Scott probably knew as well, he was much sharper than he seemed. He should tell them tomorrow. It was big news, that he was leaving. It was important.

Kirsty asked, ‘How’s school?’

Richard shrugged. ‘Same as usual, I guess.’

‘Yeah. Likewise. School is always too much of the same.’ Kirsty’s voice sounded a little unsure. ‘All the people, I’m so sick of them all, you know? Well, not really sick of them, but we all know each other so well. We all have our set little patterns of how we fit together, and there’s never any surprises. It’s deadening. Nothing ever changes.’

‘Yeah.’

He had to decide what he was going to do. He had a choice to make. He had to set his own time limit. Was he here until August? Or until Christmas? Or what? He had to decide. If he decided to leave in August he didn’t want people to know he had the option of staying longer. He didn’t want to insult people, make them think he wanted to get away from here. He didn’t want that.

He was driving in silence until Kirsty asked, ‘Where are we going, by the way?’

‘Ah,’ Richard said. ‘Good question. I was just sort of driving.’

‘Hey, that’s fine, if you just want to drive around for a while.’

‘No, it’s Friday night. Plenty of places. Is there somewhere you want to go?’

‘Not really.’ Kirsty furrowed her brow. ‘And is there somewhere you want to go?’

Richard didn’t answer straight away. ‘Somewhere quiet,’ he said eventually.

Kirsty seemed pleased by that. ‘I know just the place.’

They drove towards the Petone foreshore, taking a roundabout route through Hutt central. Kirsty filled in the silence as they drove with a story, one of many about the neighbour’s enormous friendly dog. Richard listened attentively and laughed at the right times but he kept staring ahead, as if the road would transform suddenly the moment he looked away.

They came along the Hutt Road and turned east along the Esplanade. Wellington harbour was on their right, dark like oil, the lights of Wellington city on the far side.

‘So where are we going?’ Richard asked.

Kirsty pulled her eyes forward. ‘Not too far. As soon as the road splits away from the water look for a right turn.’

The intersection she was talking about came into view, and Richard turned right. They drove slowly down a twisting side-street that curved past a sand dune and ended beside an old clubrooms. Richard pulled to a halt and shut off the engine. He and Kirsty sat facing the water.

The rush of waves eased through the initial silence. A car thrummed behind them, distant. Kirsty was finishing her story. ‘He hates people leaving. You can’t let him hear the word goodbye, he must have worked it out somewhere along the line. If he hears the word he jumps up to the door to block the way out and starts barking like crazy.’ He felt her looking at him. ‘He’s gorgeous.’

Richard didn’t answer. He didn’t know what to do. Everything was unfurling like a great sail over the water and he felt it fill as he breathed. He turned towards Kirsty. She was lit softly by the clubrooms security light. He found the girl and now he had to go. He thought he should just kiss her.

‘You all right?’ she asked.

He shrugged. ‘Sorry. I’m a bit distracted.’

Kirsty smiled carefully. ‘What’s up?’

‘I’m going back to the States.’ Richard heard himself say it, surprised to hear the words come out. He saw Kirsty’s face change in reaction. Suddenly there was so much in it that he had no idea what any of it meant.

‘Really?’

‘Maybe in August.’

‘August…’ Kirsty blinked twice. ‘Wow. You know, that’s not a small thing.’

‘Probably it isn’t.’

Kirsty put her hand on his. ‘When did you find out?’

‘Yesterday.’ He squeezed her fingers. ‘It’s just crazy in my head. I can’t clear anything, my thoughts are just a mess. A mess.’

‘Oh, man,’ she said. They sat there, hands held, half-facing each other. Then Kirsty leaned in closer and put an arm around him to hug him. He felt her body come up against his. Her head rested by his ear and he could hear her breathing. He shut his eyes. Neither of them moved to break apart.

‘Uh, ‘ Kirsty said awkwardly. ‘I’m twisting too far… ow.’

Richard let go quickly. ‘Sorry – are you – ’

‘Yeah…’

‘I didn’t… It’s made for driving.’

‘Not hugging.’ Kirsty grinned, then bit her lower lip. ‘You know, this isn’t the place I was thinking of yet. A bit further.’

‘Go on then,’ Richard said.

She took his hand.

They were walking on wet sand, seashells crunching into fragments. The surf ran up at them then stopped and fled. They held hands and walked in step.

Richard couldn’t remember meeting Kirsty for the first time. He must have known who she was for years but they’d never spoken more than a few words until Carl’s party. Brett and Mike had got aggro due to alcohol and jealousy and while they were breaking the coffee table, he was outside advising her not to go in just yet. Which got them talking. Which got them here.

The beach narrowed as they approached the very end. The rocks that blocked their way looked like huge calcified crabs. Seawater lapped up to their right and on the left a dune covered with moss and plants extended to a grassy bank. The beach was dwindling to nothing but Kirsty kept going. They passed a huge driftwood log that was half-buried in the sand and she gestured across. Her pale fingers drew his eye into a tiny valley formed from a cleft in the dune, sheltered by a small bush behind, grasses growing in the sandy earth, and the angle was just right to lie on and gaze straight out at the harbour and the island and the city and the sky.

Kirsty pulled away from him. ‘There’s nothing beyond the bank, a backlot for some factory, so it’s all quiet. People don’t come down this far because they figure it just turns into rocks and buildings and the river inlet, but they’re wrong.’

Richard smiled. ‘I’m impressed.’

‘My grandfather and I used to come here when I was really small.’ She sat down on the grass carpet and folded her arms around her knees.

‘Makes it special.’

‘Yeah,’ Kirsty said. ‘Not everything that happened here was good. But it’s my place anyway.’

‘I have places like that. Back home.’

Kirsty was watching him with her head cocked. ‘Come down here where it’s sheltered. The wind’s picking up.’

He stood in the growing breeze, feeling it push around him. The Wellington wind. She’d pulled her hair into a ponytail while in the car, and Richard liked it because it let her face take centre stage. She looked pale and inviting.

He would handle it. It would all work out.

He set himself down right next to her. Then his lips met hers, just a brush. They both froze there, eyes open, holding the moment still. Then Kirsty closed her eyes and Richard pulled her close, and when the first kiss ended another began.