I Liked it Better When They Were Young

Billie’s P.O.V

Just like normal. Those words were gonna haunt me for the rest of my life. Just like normal. Things were NOT normal, by any stretch of the imagination. Even Tre’s. I knew what he was doing. He was trying to get me to snap. And that was an easy task. I had a short fuse and a volatile temper. Well. He couldn’t wind me up if I didn’t turn up.

I walked into the bathroom, where Mike was shaving. He saw me in the mirror and cut himself in shock.

“Oww! Bugger, bugger!” He grabbed a towel and dabbed his chin delicately. “Hopefully this will stench the blood flow…”

“It’s a scratch, dummy, stop overreacting.” I said coolly.

“What are you even doing in here anyways?” Mike demanded. I could have been stark naked getting out of the shower.

“Ewww…” I muttered, “Lucky I haven’t had breakfast…”

“You never have breakfast.” This was true. I always missed breakfast. Even if I had them time for it, which I didn’t, I still wouldn’t touch it.

“I just came to tell you I’m not going to school today.” Mike rolled his eyes, sticking a plaster on his chin.

“Why bother telling me? You don’t normally…” I shrugged.

“Dunno. Just wanted to let you know.”

“Consider it marked. Now if you don’t mind, I have to get ready.” I tilted my head to one side. Mike was in an awful sour mood today.

“Are you ok?” I asked him.

“Just go.” Mike snapped at me. I backed away, a little hurt.

“What’s wrong?”
“Oh, so you really care. Just go. I’ll cover for you.” I frowned, knowing he couldn’t be ok. But I didn’t press the matter. If there was one thing Mike hated, it was people nagging at him. We had that in common. So I shrugged it off and left.

I got my coat, and my cd player, and Catcher in The Rye, in case I fancied reading. I took my cigarettes and a twenty dollar bill. I walked outside into the pissing rain. I sighed and held out my hand. It quickly filled up with little droplets of water. I ran into the bus shelter, shaking my hair dry like a dog. I pulled the bus times out of my coat pocket, as the bus times in the shelter had been burnt and melted so you couldn’t read them.

There was a bus in ten minutes that took you on a circle trip of rodeo, before finally winding up where it had started. Hopefully I would figure out where I wanted to go by the time it arrived. And if not, I’d be back to square one. Back home again.

I pulled out my cd player, shielding it with my coat from the rain. I pressed play, and relaxed as Operation Ivy’s “Knowledge” lit up my ears. It was a good rainy day song, that one. It’s beat was in keeping with the dreary weather and it’s lyrics were sarcastic and ironic. Just the way I liked them.

The bus screeched around the corner, almost driving straight passed me. I quickly stuck out my hand.

“Where to?” Growled the bus driver. He was the old one, with the mole on his forehead and the grey hair that looked like a wig. He really irritated me. Still not sure where I wanted to go, I pulled out the twenty.

“If I pay you half of this, can I get off when I like?” He eyed me suspiciously.

“This is real money?” He asked slowly.

“Of course.” I said saintly. He snatched the note and gave me a ten in return.

“On you get.” I walked up to the back seat and sat dead centre. Renee and Frazer weren’t here to send me spinning back to my rightful place. I gazed mistily out of the window, as the bus drove off.

Sophie’s P.O.V

“He’s not coming.” A rather irritated looking Mike informed me. I shrugged.

“What else is new?”

“Exactly.” Mike muttered. I noticed he had a large plaster on his chin.

“What happened there?” I asked, fingering it gingerly. He swatted my hand away and covered the plaster protectively, muttering something about a cat scratching him. I rolled my eyes. Poor Mike. Too manly and strapping to admit he had cut himself shaving.

“Hey guys!” Tre came bounding up to us.

“Hey.” I said, absentmindedly.

“Did you hear about the trip?”

“What trip?”

“We’re going off to the Rodeo Art Gallery today; Mrs Mowatt’s taking us all.” I frowned.

“Weren’t you, me and Billie banned from that trip months ago?” Tre’s eyes widened and he took me aside.

“Yes, but I think she’s forgotten, so just keep it zipped. I mean, we get to go out! It’s better than staying here. Plus at lunch we’ll be forced outside in the pouring rain. Hey, talking about Billie, where is he?” Tre looked over his shoulder, then at Mike.

“He’s not coming.” Mike sighed, shrugging.

“Oh. Why not?”

Mike rolled his eyes.

“Because apparently one day back at school is too much for him.” Tre cocked an eyebrow.

“Are you ok? You seem a little frazzled.” Mike stalked off by himself, muttering away again. I pulled Tre close.

“He cut himself shaving this morning.” Mike whirled around, looking very annoyed with me.

“A cat scratched me and you know it!” He yelled.

“Whatever you say!” I yelled back. I then turned back to Tre. “Sit with me on the mini bus? Say three rows away from Mike?”

“You bet.” Tre said happily.

Billie’s P.O.V

I sat in one of the comfy modern chairs in the art gallery, skim reading Catcher in the Rye for the fifth time in my life. I’d come here for some peace and quiet, something a little different from how I spent the rest of my skiving days. I found it a little boring to be frank. Not something I’d do again. It was also a little ironic, coming here, the art gallery. The very class I’d been driven to breaking point by in school. I liked to live ironically. Best to suffer with a sense of humour.

I played over the last couple of days in my head. They hadn’t been brilliant. Tre had been driving me absolutely crazy. There was just something about him I was never going to like. Maybe it was his love of Sophie. Maybe it was his snobbish background. It could even be something as simple as his voice. His cultured, always right voice.

“This art gallery isn’t half as good as the one in my parents’ basement.” That’s the kind of thing he’d say. Or,

“I find painting to be very relaxing.” Or,

“This in an excellent place for those with no social life.” I smiled at my own black humour.

“I’ve been here three times; it’s such a nice place to relax after school...”

Hold on. I didn’t think that up in my head. Great, now I was hearing things. Or was I?

“Yeah, I can imagine. No one’s ever here. I’ve only been here once, but the coffee was good...” I whirled around, causing a crick in my neck. But I didn’t care. I could now distinctly hear the voices of Soph and Tre.

“It couldn’t be...” I murmured. They wouldn’t skive together. Would they? Especially in here. Maybe they were going out. I smirked, as I knew this wouldn’t be the case, even though the art gallery was notorious for couples to come and make out, as hardly anyone came there. Only the geeks, who were too chicken to say anything to anyone. As you can probably tell, I’m speaking from experience...

“Right everyone, shall we proceed to the Sculptures?”
I jumped up from my seat like a salmon and hid behind an ancient marble pillar. It had chewing gum stuck all over it, which gives you an idea just how cultural the youths of Rodeo are.

I peeked at the scene that was playing out before me, and my eyes widened. Mrs Mowatt was leading my entire art class, plus a few others, around the art gallery. It was the very art trip I’d been banned from a while back. It hadn’t even crossed my mind. Until now.

Good going Bill, I thought to myself angrily, as I concealed my small frame behind the pillar and listened intently. My memory always let me down. The footsteps seemed further away, so I emerged from my hiding place. Just in time to see a bleached blond head disappear from view. Mike.

I tiptoed after him as quickly and quietly as I could, ducking behind various pillars and paintings as I went. I heard the footsteps stop behind a white screen, blocking off a section of the gallery, and Mrs Mowatt started speaking to the class. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and texted Mike. I heard a very loud ring from behind the screen, and then I heard him utter a small apology to Mrs Mowatt, before stepping outside to check his phone. I quickly ran up the stairs to the second floor. I couldn’t risk anyone seeing me. Even him.

I watched him from afar as he checked his phone. He nodded carefully to himself before flipping it shut and going back behind the screen. I checked my outbox to see just what I’d said to him.

Mike, I’m in the art gallery! Keep an eye out for me and make sure no one finds out. Don’t tell Soph or Tre. BJ

I heard the class coming out from behind the screen. I hid underneath the metal balcony, so I could see them, but they couldn’t see me.

“Right everyone, shall we move on? I think the landscapes are on the second floor…”

I smirked. Stupid bitch. They were on the first floor. I’d checked. I then saw them heading up the stairs.

“Mother of fuck!” I whispered, throwing a glance at the board that told you where everything was in the gallery.

Landscapes and abstract, Second Floor.

I didn’t stop to ponder my own stupidity, I just ran. I tore across the carefully sanded wooden floors, looking frantically for a way down to the first floor. I saw Soph walking up the stairs, talking to Tre. I tilted my head to one side. Nice shoes. I’d never seen her wear those before. I made a mental note to myself that I’d mention it if I caught her on her own today.

I saw my ray of light, the elevator. I shot towards it and pressed the down button. I heard it screeching its way down to the second floor.

“Come on, come on!” I muttered urgently. I was one false move away from utter embarrassment. Eventually the doors opened and I practically threw myself inside. They then took another forty seconds to close again. I looked across the second floor anxiously, and met eyes with Mike, who was gawping at me like a startled goldfish. Yeah, coz that wasn’t suspicious at all.

I gave him my worst look and waved him away urgently, indicating he should shove off before someone saw me. After about fifty years of hand waving he got the message and started up a conversation with Soph. I breathed a sigh of relief, as the elevator doors finally closed and took me down to the first floor.

I stepped out of the elevator and was relieved to look up the stairs and see that the whole class had their backs turned on me, as they listened to Mrs Mowatt. I took this time to have a look at some of the paintings myself. Most were copies of famous artwork, a poorer version of the real thing. After all, this was Rodeo California.

One piece in particular caught my eye, a printed redo of Monet’s “The houses of Parliament.” I ran my fingers over the plastic covering. It was either sundown, or sunrise, I couldn’t tell which, over the Houses of Parliament in London. The sun reflected off the water below, fiery and exotic, while the buildings were concealed in blues and grays, giving a slurred, mysterious look to them. Very true of Parliament, I thought. Things were always kept very secret and mysterious. Especially to the likes of simpletons like us.

”Genius…” I murmured, running my finger over the colours once again, mesmerized by the painting. I was brought back to the 3d world by the sound of twenty pairs of feet heading down the stairs. I retracted my hand from the painting and sprinted into the centre of the first floor.

Mike was leading the group unconsciously, as no one else could keep up with his stride, but Soph and Tre were hot on his heels. Our eyes met for the second time today. Mike’s face quickly became a portrait of dismay and worry, and he grabbed hold of Soph and Tre, steering them clear of my route, saying, “Oh, come and look at this guys!” I breathed a sigh of relief, glad he was keeping his cool. But I still had the rest of the class to avoid. Fortunately, like the sheep they were, they had followed Mike, their Sheppard, out of sheer curiosity. I rolled my eyes and turned towards the stairs to the ground floor. I couldn’t stay up here.

I walked casually over to the stairway, feeling a little bit cockier, as I’d managed to escape them so far. Famous last words…

As I came to a halt by the stairs, another group of Pinole students came trudging up them!

“How are they doing this?” I yelled, as I ran back to the Monet painting. But as I drew closer, I saw that was exactly where Mike had led everyone else. Panic stricken, I sprinted towards the elevator. I pressed the button for up, up to the second floor. Once again, it took it’s time. I glanced around me anxiously. The second party of students were approaching, if just one of them looked my way, I’d be found out. I looked back at the elevator, which had screeched open, and came face to face with Mrs Mowatt.

I frantically pressed the button, to get the elevator to close again, but she put one sausage like arm between the doors, keeping them wide open.

Say something clever, I thought inside my head. Charm your way out of this….

“Debbie!” I exploded, a smile smeared across my face. I shouldn’t have called her by her first name… Oh well, there was no going back now...

“I... I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” I gibbered, not sure what to make of her emotionless expression. “I… slept through my alarm and I…” As her face contorted into a rather smug looking smile, I felt the alarm bells go off in my head. “I.., I came to the school, and… Mr Beck, he said you were all here, so… I erm… I thought…” I slowly trailed off, realizing I was digging myself an even bigger hole.

“I’ll let myself out.” I finished hopefully; turning around, ready to run.

“Wait!” I froze, as I heard her crash towards me, and put a hand on my shoulder. My knees nearly buckled. I wish they had.

“You’re not going anywhere, Mr Armstrong…” She breathed, putting extra emphasis on the Mr. Like I wasn’t worthy of such a title. Like I was the boy who had no name.

“Come along.” Her voice was flat, but somehow cheery. I trotted shamefully by her side in silence. You could tell she was angry with me as well though, as her vein was throbbing inside her temple. She grinded to a halt in front of the entire class and held up my arm triumphantly.

“Look at this everyone! Look who I found walking around the gallery.” She paused for dramatic effect. I stared at the ground. I’d say I wanted it to swallow me up, but that’s so cliché.

There were a few sniggers from the snobby kids, and the bad ones just looked at me dolefully, as if I’d disgraced them. Which, now that I think about it, I probably had.

I risked looking up. Mike was standing all by himself, just looking up at me. I stared back at him, allowing my eyes to grow to twice their size, to make him stop. He lifted his hand and gave me one, small, drooping wave, a little smirk on his face.

“Well, isn’t your timing just perfect?” Mrs Mowatt said her voice like a razor cutting through silk. I looked up at her, like a deer in headlights. What horror did she have planned now?

“It’s time for us to pair up, and, until you showed up, we had odd numbers.” I frowned, a little confused. That wasn’t as bad as I had thought it was going to be. She let my arm droop back to its side and clapped her hands.

“Right everyone, find a partner.” The class left their little clumps of people and paired up in twos. Without even thinking, I instinctively headed towards Mike.

No, no, I don’t think so, Billie!” Mrs Mowatt roared, beaming at her own evil genius. “Mike, you go with Simon.” My eyes widened in horror and I looked pleadingly at Mike. He shrugged his shoulders and walked over to Simon, a burley looking Ned.

“Mr Wright, would you come here?” I frowned. Wright…, where did I know the name Wright… I soon found out, as Tre came shuffling towards us.

“Now, I believe you too know each other?” Mrs Mowatt asked, her voice innocent, her facial expression anything but. Tre nodded silently. I looked at him, my eyes narrowing to dangerous slits, then back at Mrs Mowatt.

“Yes… yes we do…”