Bonfire Boys
Breaking Apart
If you were standing next to Fraser when his daughter came home with the black-haired Chinese girl, you wouldn’t have known that they grew up together side-by-side as the best of friends. You probably would have thought they were opponents at a footy match and began to have disagreements over which team was going to win.
If you were lying next to Gwen when her step-daughter strode into the family bungalow with the black-haired Chinese girl, with mud on your face and cucumbers over your eyes, your tranquillity session would have been ruined by the screaming and shouting that ricocheted down the archway hallway.
Now, if you were the little Dachshund named Bonfire, you probably would have locked yourself in your little cage, curled up in a ball, shivering in terror. In your doggie head, you probably would have made a vow never to go near the black-haired human who picked you up and tossed you half-way across the room due to her anger towards your owner.
If you so happened to be the nosy neighbours, you would have recorded that exactly 4 minutes and 47 seconds after the two girls entered the bungalow, the black-haired one stormed out again, being followed by a man who was old enough to be her father.
If you were a Martian named Zorgabart living on planet Mars… I don’t know, you were probably planning the next world domination thing that was bound to fail.
Just know this: if you were within the Byrne household when Lyla and Gina came home from the Bonfire Boys Live Tour, you were very, very unlucky indeed.
“He’ll come back soon,” Gwen said idly, peeling the cucumber slices off her face and entering the hallway to see her step-daughter standing half-fuming, half-miserable at the backdoor she broke earlier that day.
“I doubt it,” Lyla growled, “he’ll probably elope with that stupid chink I used to call a friend.”
“Well, if that happened,” Gwen replied firmly, “he’ll have to answer to me. Don’t worry Lyla, Fraser’ll be back soon.”
“I don’t give a shit about Dad-“
“Lyla!”
“-I’m more concerned about Gina stepping within our territory again.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad..”
“Wasn’t that bad?!” Lyla screeched, “She’s such a drama queen!”
“Well.. you did ditch her for the boys,”
“Was it my fault that Harry Louie fell on me and not her? It’s not my fault that I was so entertained by my favourite band. It’s not MY fault that Harry Louie decided to keep me in the room and send her out!”
“Okay, maybe Gina over-reacted-“
“Over-reacted? She bloody screamed at me! All the way home she was-”
“Lyla. I don’t care.”
“How can you?!”
A dark, tall figure loomed in the collapsed back door as Fraser stepped back into the house, hair ruffled and face flushed.
“I couldn’t catch her…” he stuttered, “she was too fast..”
Lyla rolled her eyes, “she kissed you didn’t she?”
Silence. Fraser’s flushed cheeks coloured. Gwen looked mildly exasperated, mildly amused.
“What a slut,” Lyla sang, turning her back on Fraser and pushing past Gwen to get to her room. Behind her she could hear her parents’ conversation. Fraser’s hasty explanation and Gwen’s amused scolding voice. Lyla kicked her way to her room, with Bonfire yapping at her heels.
“Life sucks, doesn’t it?” Lyla cooed, picking up the little dachshund and cuddling him, “you’re lucky you don’t have weird friends who fancy your dad.”
Bonfire yapped, bit her arm, and wriggled his way out of her arms and out the door. Lyla grumbled and shut the door after the waggling black tail. Exhaling, she turned around to stare at her room.
Posters after posters of the Bonfire Boys. Pin-ups of Harry Louie. Pin-ups of Harry Louie without his shirt…
She just couldn’t forget that kiss. That one kiss the Harry Louie decided to give her. The one kiss that practically landed her with the Bonfire Boys. Closing her eyes, Lyla began to dream up the reconstruction of that moment of bliss.
His lips against hers… his hand over her back… his lips feeling so soft and comfortable… his fingers running smoothly through her long, brown hair… his hand sliding to her bum… her back pocket…
Her back pocket.
He said he put something in her back pocket. Didn’t he? Lyla hurried to her bed and shoved her hand into the slightly bludging pocket , and pulled out a piece of blue, perfumed paper.
07847472841…
Harry… Louie’s…. Number…?
Lyla nearly tripped over her own feet as she rushed to the phone and dialled in number. It was barely 2 rings when someone picked up.
“Hello?”
Lyla was silent. Yep, that was definitely Harry Louie’s voice. What now? What now?
If you were lying next to Gwen when her step-daughter strode into the family bungalow with the black-haired Chinese girl, with mud on your face and cucumbers over your eyes, your tranquillity session would have been ruined by the screaming and shouting that ricocheted down the archway hallway.
Now, if you were the little Dachshund named Bonfire, you probably would have locked yourself in your little cage, curled up in a ball, shivering in terror. In your doggie head, you probably would have made a vow never to go near the black-haired human who picked you up and tossed you half-way across the room due to her anger towards your owner.
If you so happened to be the nosy neighbours, you would have recorded that exactly 4 minutes and 47 seconds after the two girls entered the bungalow, the black-haired one stormed out again, being followed by a man who was old enough to be her father.
If you were a Martian named Zorgabart living on planet Mars… I don’t know, you were probably planning the next world domination thing that was bound to fail.
Just know this: if you were within the Byrne household when Lyla and Gina came home from the Bonfire Boys Live Tour, you were very, very unlucky indeed.
“He’ll come back soon,” Gwen said idly, peeling the cucumber slices off her face and entering the hallway to see her step-daughter standing half-fuming, half-miserable at the backdoor she broke earlier that day.
“I doubt it,” Lyla growled, “he’ll probably elope with that stupid chink I used to call a friend.”
“Well, if that happened,” Gwen replied firmly, “he’ll have to answer to me. Don’t worry Lyla, Fraser’ll be back soon.”
“I don’t give a shit about Dad-“
“Lyla!”
“-I’m more concerned about Gina stepping within our territory again.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad..”
“Wasn’t that bad?!” Lyla screeched, “She’s such a drama queen!”
“Well.. you did ditch her for the boys,”
“Was it my fault that Harry Louie fell on me and not her? It’s not my fault that I was so entertained by my favourite band. It’s not MY fault that Harry Louie decided to keep me in the room and send her out!”
“Okay, maybe Gina over-reacted-“
“Over-reacted? She bloody screamed at me! All the way home she was-”
“Lyla. I don’t care.”
“How can you?!”
A dark, tall figure loomed in the collapsed back door as Fraser stepped back into the house, hair ruffled and face flushed.
“I couldn’t catch her…” he stuttered, “she was too fast..”
Lyla rolled her eyes, “she kissed you didn’t she?”
Silence. Fraser’s flushed cheeks coloured. Gwen looked mildly exasperated, mildly amused.
“What a slut,” Lyla sang, turning her back on Fraser and pushing past Gwen to get to her room. Behind her she could hear her parents’ conversation. Fraser’s hasty explanation and Gwen’s amused scolding voice. Lyla kicked her way to her room, with Bonfire yapping at her heels.
“Life sucks, doesn’t it?” Lyla cooed, picking up the little dachshund and cuddling him, “you’re lucky you don’t have weird friends who fancy your dad.”
Bonfire yapped, bit her arm, and wriggled his way out of her arms and out the door. Lyla grumbled and shut the door after the waggling black tail. Exhaling, she turned around to stare at her room.
Posters after posters of the Bonfire Boys. Pin-ups of Harry Louie. Pin-ups of Harry Louie without his shirt…
She just couldn’t forget that kiss. That one kiss the Harry Louie decided to give her. The one kiss that practically landed her with the Bonfire Boys. Closing her eyes, Lyla began to dream up the reconstruction of that moment of bliss.
His lips against hers… his hand over her back… his lips feeling so soft and comfortable… his fingers running smoothly through her long, brown hair… his hand sliding to her bum… her back pocket…
Her back pocket.
He said he put something in her back pocket. Didn’t he? Lyla hurried to her bed and shoved her hand into the slightly bludging pocket , and pulled out a piece of blue, perfumed paper.
07847472841…
Harry… Louie’s…. Number…?
Lyla nearly tripped over her own feet as she rushed to the phone and dialled in number. It was barely 2 rings when someone picked up.
“Hello?”
Lyla was silent. Yep, that was definitely Harry Louie’s voice. What now? What now?