Free After by Sue Lawson Page B

About—’
    ‘Fine.’ I had to cut her off before she said his name.
    ‘Have you talked about what happened? Have you talked—?’
    As if I didn’t have enough to deal with. ‘I said, I’m fine.’
    ‘CJ, you need to talk about it. About—’
    My heart hammered against my chest. ‘I have to go.’ I hung up.
    I gripped the bench. Maybe if I thumped something, kicked the highlights out of the cupboard, I could stop it. Saliva filled my mouth. I bolted to the bathroom, slamming the door behind me.
    Up until now, every time someone—Mum, Christos, that counsellor, Bev—tried to make me talk about Nic, I vomited. But not any more. I fought the feeling with everything I had. I turned on the cold tap and splashed water over my face and neck. The feeling slithered away.
    Nan rapped on the bathroom door. ‘Callum? Callum? Is that running water I can hear? Turn that tap off immediately. We’re in the middle of a drought, don’t you know.’
    As if she hadn’t mentioned that a thousand times.
    ‘Bugger off,’ I muttered as I dried my face and hands.
    ‘What are you doing?’ The door wobbled against the frame. I knew she had her ear pressed up against it.
    I crept close to the door and bellowed. ‘Taking a leak.’
    I heard my grandmother gasp through the door. When I opened it, she stood in the middle of the hall.
    ‘And washing my hands.’
    ‘Right, well, mind your water use.’ She straightened her shoulders and stalked down the hall.
    Stupid old cow. No wonder Grandpa hung out at the footy club so much. No wonder Mum hated her.
    Bag slung over my shoulder, I walked down the path to the classroom. In the middle of the pavers stood Jack Frewen, Miffo, Matt and Klay.
    ‘You so cleaned him up, Frew,’ said Klay, beaming.
    ‘Yeah!’ Miffo re-enacted the tackle, tossing fresh air to the ground.
    They had to be talking about the tackle in front of Grandpa and me. The way I saw it, it wasn’t a tackle to brag about. Frewen had monstered a kid half his size and at the same time terrified the rest of the opposition. I shook my head and walked around them.
    ‘Hey, Alexander, been freaked out by any sheep today?’ said Frewen, blocking my way.
    ‘What are you talking about?’ I asked.
    Frewen jerked his chin at me.
    ‘Your grandfather reckons sheep freak you out.’
    Klay, Miffo and Matt bellowed with laughter.
    Anger and embarrassment rushed through me. Anger because Grandpa had spoken to Jack about me, and embarrassment because it was true—the sheep had freaked me out.
    ‘Poor Callum. Too scared to open the gate, in case the nasty sheep bite.’
    ‘Whatever, Frewen.’ I turned to walk to the classroom.
    ‘Scared of me too, Alexander? Ya coward,’ yelled Frewen.
    I spun around and stepped towards him.
    Frewen jumped back, his eyes wide.
    ‘See you in class, Jack,’ I said, strolling away, like he hadn’t got to me. But he had.

CHAPTER 12
BEFORE...
    Maeve stood at the stove stirring paella when CJ walked into the kitchen. Christos was setting the table.
    ‘I’m starving,’ said CJ, flopping in the kitchen chair.
    Maeve turned to face him, her mouth a thin line. ‘You’re late.’
    ‘Nic and I were trying out a new jump behind the library.’
    Maeve shook her head.
    ‘CJ, we need to talk,’ said Christos.
    ‘Can we eat first? I’m starved.’
    ‘Dinner can wait,’ said Christos. He reached for an envelope from the top of the fridge.
    Maeve turned off the gas and moved a chair around so she sat beside Christos, opposite CJ. When Christos placed the envelope on the table, CJ recognised the school emblem. A hundred tiny fish nibbled his insides.
    ‘What’s going on?’
    ‘Your school report arrived today,’ said Christos.
    ‘And?’
    ‘Remember the deal we made after Mr Burbridge came here to beg me to let you play footy with the senior team?’ asked Maeve.
    ‘Yeah—I could only play if my reports were good. I’ve been getting As and Bs.’
    ‘It’s the teachers’ comments that