IV
The fourth most surprising thing happened on Friday, exactly one week after the day I wish I had fallen in love with Number 17. I was longing for the weekend, some moment of respite from the constant presence of the boy and his basketball. As the bell finally rang, heralding the end of the school day and the start of the glorious glorious weekend, I heard the tell-tale sound of a bouncing basketball.
“Hey indie chick,” Number 17’s voice came from behind me. Caroline grabbed my hand and started pulling me toward the gate, muttering ‘don’t chick me’ under her breath.
“Oh, hi Win – I mean … hi,” I said as casually as possibly.
“Um so I’m pretty sorry I broke your mug, even if it did kind of burn me.”
“That’s okay.”
“Anyway, I wanted to make it up to you, so you could keep drinking your star anise stuff. So … I bought you a new mug.”
Number 17 held up the mug like a peace offering, as though for some inexplicable reason I had ever hated him in any way. I took it off him gratefully. It had basketballs on it. I imagined drawing question marks over each of the basketballs – is a basketball really just a basketball? But for the time being I just tucked it away in my backpack and grinned kind of lovesickly whilst Caroline tusk-tusked behind me.
“Also, are you doing anything this Saturday?” Number 17 asked a little shyly, scratching his head and looking at me sideways.
“Um,” I gasped. You don’t even know this boy’s name, my inner self, and probably Caroline too, cautioned. He’s probably a fucking capitalist. “No. No, I’m not busy.”
“Right, cause I have this basketball game on and you and Caroline should come watch. It should be a bit of a steal, the team we’re playing’s a load of crap, but that means I’ll probably be able to do a slam dunk.”
“You slam dunk?” I said, impressed.
“Oh yeah, I’m the shortest player on the team to be able to do so.” I frowned, trying to work out whether that was a good thing or not. “So …?” Number 17 pressed.
“Um, sure! Caroline and I will be there!” I grinned. Caroline groaned in the background. I ignored her.
“Alright, see you there then,” Number 17 called as he walked away. “Watch out for me, I’m Number 17.” I nodded, bemused, as he walked away. As he left, a friend of his shouted at him from across the grounds.
“Oi, Lyndon*! Chuck us the ball, will ya?”
*As in Lyndon B. Johnson, President of the United States when Australia entered into the Vietnam War with them. Just a little modern history reference that would be a little awkward if you didn’t get, as it’s pretty much the punch line of the story and not that I think you’re stupid or anything! Just I had to explain it to others which took the kick out of it a little. Just like this thing is. ANYWAY. If you got it, snaps for you. Here’s a song about him:
LBJ took the IRT down to 4th Street USA
When he got there what did he see?
The youth of America on LSD.
Love you like existential basketballs.
P.S. How impressive has my hyperlinking been, man?
great story! i would say i wish i had someone like caroline in my life, but i already have a pretty fantastic friend called caroline :) who's almost as funny as yours
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