Where the Wind Takes Us

I spend the rest of my weekend lazing around in my room, completing a math assignment at around two in the morning. I’ve completely forgotten its existence until Georgia texts me at midnight asking me if she could copy my answers. So we end up getting on Skype and discussing answers back and forth, quietly because our parents are probably sleeping, and in about half an hour we’ve finished the two paged piece of shit and it’s sleep time for us. Six hours later, we’re forced to wake up to begin another monotonous week of school. It’s times like these I’m appreciative that we have about a month to go before we finish school forever, and I can finally get out of here.

As I’m tying my hair into a ponytail, I wonder how I’m supposed to function normally around Mick. I’ve yet to tell Georgia, my best friend, what Mick said to me Friday night, and quite honestly I don’t think I want to, either. I trust Georgia with my life so I know she won’t tell the other boys, but there’s a part of me that knows if I admit it out loud, it will be true and I’ll have to accept the fact that Mick doesn’t like me, or ever will like me.

My heart is beginning to hurt again.

Two loud beeps seem to wake up the whole neighbourhood, as they do every morning of the school week, and also never fail to make me jump to the moon and back. Mick drives me to school each morning as he lives only ten minutes away from me and let’s face it; I make an awesome driving buddy. Sometimes, we sing along to the radio, or we exchange answers for assignments we need help on, or sometimes we even just sit in silence, appreciating the hot drinks we buy in the morning on the way to school so we can be awake when we come into class. Being awake in class is the best because if the class is boring, it means we have the opportunity to annoy other people or make fun of the teacher behind their back. There’s nothing like livening up the class for our entertainment.

Another loud beep scares me again, and I grab my school bag and begin to run down the stairs and out the door. If Mick beeps again, I won’t hesitate to scream at him.

“Bloody hell,” I curse as I swing open the car door and chuck my school bag in the backseat. “Do you want me to be hated by the whole neighbourhood?”

“Mornin’ to you too, Nat,” Mick replies with a cheeky grin. He starts up the car as I put on my seatbelt, searching my blazer pockets for some loose change.

“We’re not stopping by Gloria Jeans on the way,” Mick says, noticing what I’m doing. “We won’t have time.”

I frown. Since when does Mick care about getting to school on time? I open my mouth to protest, but no words come out. Damn my love for Mick!

“Some fresh meat are coming to tour the school,” Mick explains. “I want to get in early to show the ladies around.”

“Around the school or around your cock?” I mutter in annoyance. I hope he thinks I’m annoyed because we have to skip out on buying a coffee from Gloria Jeans, and not because I’m insanely jealous of the girls that Mick will show around, most likely hit on them and who knows what else.

Mick lets out a loud, booming laugh and to my relief, pulls into Gloria Jeans, a well-known coffee place. It’s similar to the likes of Starbucks, but in my opinion, a lot nicer. “I’m kidding, Nat. I just missed your feistiness, that’s all.”

“Asshole,” I grumble under my breath, hoping he doesn’t hear me. As soon as he parks, I steal Mick’s wallet and get out of the car.

I don’t realise how relieved I am to not deal with my feelings for Mick until I’m in the popular coffee shop, a line beginning to lengthen if I don’t stand in it. So I stand in, annoyed at the number of people in front of me until I spot a familiar blonde haired ponytail with a blue headband.

“Hey loser,” I greet my best friend, standing out of the line and walking over to her so I can move a few spaces closer to the front. “Don’t tell me you’re actually driving to school today.”

Georgia rolls her eyes at me. “James didn’t have training this morning, so Colton decided to take him instead. Except Colton didn’t tell me about this until twenty minutes ago, so I had to fill my tank up with my own hard-earned money and drive myself to school. Thanks for the heads-up, asshole.”

Colton and James are the other two guys in our close-knit group. Colton and Georgia are together without the label of being together. They talk like friends but act like lovers around us, but mainly in private. Georgia’s the type of girl who’s very independent and won’t let anyone keep her down, but I also know that she cares deeply about Colton and wouldn’t ever intentionally hurt him. They have an open relationship, meaning they can hook up with other people, but I’m 99% sure neither of them do. James is the oldest out of all of us. He’s turning nineteen at the end of the year and was kept down a year because he’d been in juvy for most of year twelve last year. When he came out, not many people were keen on being his friend because of the reputation he seemed to have as being an “ex-con”, but we adopted him into our group because besides the exterior tough guy James displays, he’s loyal and caring and very protective. James used to be this major badass kind of guy, but when he came out he said that juvy changed him and he’s not like the person he used to be.

Whatever happens with James though, we will always love him.

“What would you like to order?” The lady behind the counter asks for our orders, and I order a green tea and a black coffee with three sugars for Mick. Georgia orders a chai latte and before she pulls out money to pay, I cover it all with a twenty I stole from Mick.

I realise a moment later I probably shouldn’t have done that, because then he’s going to go off on some tangent about how I always steal his money for drinks in the morning and how I’m always living off of his wage. I do work, but I’m saving up money for my impending escape out of the Northern Territory. And while Mick talks, I’ll be zoned out, thinking about the way Mick’s body looks in his uniform or the way his long eyelashes (I am a sucker for guys with long eyelashes) intensify the colour of his dark chocolate coloured eyes or even on his lips, they’re plump and pink and a little cracked but I could probably kiss them forever if I had the chance. And then while I’ve zoned out, Mick will interrupt my day dreaming and ask what’s going on with me, and then I’ll probably blurt out the first thing that will come to mind, either something completely stupid with him thinking, “Wow, I have a weird best friend,” or “My best friend is in love with me and I don’t know how I should respond to this.” Yep. Two great endings right there.

“Nat.” Georgia bumps her shoulder with mine. I look up, startled, as she’s holding my drinks and I’m now holding up the line. Whoops. Apologising quickly to the burly man behind me, I follow Georgia out of the coffee shop. “You alright?”

I shrug, knowing that I’ll have to tell Georgie sooner or later about what happened with Mick. “I-”

“Oi, Fader! Hurry up!” Mick yells, sticking his head out of the window as he beeps three times.

Georgia sticks a finger up at him in response and turns to me expectantly. “Tell me in homeroom,” she decides. Squeezing my arm as a goodbye, she hands me the cardboard carton that’s holding our drinks and walks off.

I hesitate for a moment before getting into Mick’s car, putting his wallet in the dash and handing his drink over to him. He sips it cautiously, before placing it in the drink holder between us.

“What took you so long?” He asks me as he pulls out of the coffee shop and back onto the busy main road. “We’re seriously going to get stuck in traffic now.”

I shrug, taking a sip of my drink as I cup the drink in both my hands. “Whatever.”

Mick doesn’t say anything for a while, and I take this opportunity to turn on the radio. I don’t typically listen to mainstream music but it has a way of sticking itself into my brain and playing in my mind over and over again.

“Can you turn it down for a sec?” I’m surprised. Mick never asks me to turn down the radio, unless he wants to talk about something serious. I’m not sure what he wants to talk about now, but I turn it down nonetheless.

“Are you okay?”

Why do people keep asking me this? Is what I’m feeling written across my face? Am I just an open book, or something? I wish I could be like Georgia, who’s able to keep her feelings in and not let anyone know what she’s thinking. It doesn’t work with me, of course, because we know each other better than we think we do, but she gets away with it around others. Especially the boys, who can be quite daft sometimes.

I question whether to make up something or not, but before I decide something, the words “I’m fine” fly out of my mouth. My voice cracks at the end and now I know that Mick’s going to ask me what’s wrong and it’s going to end up being this big thing that I don’t want to talk about.

Mick slows down at the intersection, the big intersection before we get to school and I dread the next words that are going to come out of his mouth. “Are you angry at me?”

I shake my head furiously, almost whipping myself in the face with my ponytail. “It’s nothing Mick, okay?”

“It’s not okay,” Mick replies, a little bit of anger seeping into his face. “You’re my best friend and I love you.” My heart instantly softens at the mention of love, but tenses when I remember it’s a different kind of love that I feel. “You know you can talk to me about whatever, right?”

I nod and give Mick a side glance. He’s staring at me intently, as though he’s looking into my soul. It’s taking a lot for me to not burst into tears right now. “Stressed,” I blurt out. “I’m stressed.”

Mick frowns slightly, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion. “You don’t stress.”

“I have an art folio due,” I remind him and he sighs, relief flooding his face as though it was something else I might’ve been ‘angry’ at him for. Mick should know that I could never be truly angry at him, but he would then have to know how much I love the kid. “It’s due in a month and I need like, twenty pieces to finish it.”

It’s a lie, but it’s the best one I can come up with on the spot. I don’t like to lie, it’s something I have to keep up with and remember so if that same person asks me about it, I have another lie to build upon that lie and it becomes a web of lies entangled all up in one another.

“I hoped you would say something like that,” Mick confesses. “I thought it had something to do with, you know. Friday night?”

Oh God oh my God I think I’m going to have a heart attack. No no no no no, Mick, no need to bring that up. Now or ever.

“Uh, no,” is all I can formulate right now. I think my brain has stopped working. “What’s there to talk about?”

You idiot! Don’t encourage this conversation to continue any longer!

“That’s what I thought.” Mick seems relieved. “I just-”

“Please shut up, Mick,” I tell him, forcing a laugh. “You’re making this awkward. I think of you like a brother, full stop. Even if you weren’t my best friend, I wouldn’t be into you.”

“How come?” Mick frowns. “You don’t think I’m hot?”

God, I wish that were the case.

I shrug, hoping it’s a nonchalant kind of shrug and that Mick doesn’t suspect anything. I thank the stars that Mick is a boy because while sometimes he’s intuitive, he can be a tad slow. Must be a boy thing.

“Do I really have to answer this question?”

Naturally I haven’t realised it, but Mick’s pulled into the school parking lot and he’s already parked. “Yeah, Fader.” I love it when he calls me by my last name. It sounds kinda sexy coming out of his mouth. “Why aren’t I good enough for you?”

I roll my eyes at him and get out of the car, opening the door to the backseat to get my schoolbag. My cup of tea is finished and thrown into the nearest bin, along with Mick’s now finished drink. “It’s nearly nine; we’re going to be late to homeroom!” I call over my shoulder, ignoring Mick’s question.

When Mick inevitably asks me this question again, I’m going to need a proper answer for this.


Mick and I are late to homeroom but our teacher doesn’t care, and we slide into our seats. The five of us are lucky enough to be in the same homeroom together – it’s how we all met, really. Mick and I have been friends since ninth grade and I’ve known Georgia since tenth, but I didn’t meet James or Colton until the beginning of year twelve. So as a group we’ve hung out for nine months but we’re pretty tight. We have English together, I share Studio Art with James, Georgia and Mick both do ‘smart’ math while me and the other two boys do ‘easy’ math. We hang out almost every lunch time and we don’t really go to parties or events without each other. That’s how close we are.

Mondays are gruelling for me, with a double session of Math in the morning with Mr. Assface, our asshole teacher that the group likes to call him, before a ten minute break. I usually take this time to stuff my face with food and get my books for next class instead of actually taking a proper break, since we basically have no time to do so. After break, I have English which is alright since the group is with me, but the subject itself is hard and there are times where I struggle with the concepts we discuss in class. This might have to do with the fact that James and Georgia are always trading barbs back and forth, and they’re much more entertaining to listen to than to our teacher. After English though, the day becomes easier. I have a spare period after English and before lunch, which means I really have a double lunch period. And then it’s a double session of Studio Art with James before I get to go home.

Being a senior gives us the opportunity to only undertake five subjects, instead of six. In year eleven, I, along with the other eleventh graders, had the chance to take up a year twelve subject that is counted towards our final year twelve mark. Last year, I breezed through Visual Communication and Design, which is one of the art subjects they offer at our school. It’s pretty similar to the other art subjects I’m taking this year, Photography and Studio Art. In my folio last year, I had to make a sculpture and discuss every detail of how I went about making it, why I chose to do it, etc etc. In Photography, we had to select a theme or a backstory and take a bunch of photos relating to said theme. In Studio Art, we could focus on any art form we wanted to, so I chose to do a series of portraits styled in different ways. School finishes in about a month, but we have a few weeks of exams which is when my art folios are due. Thankfully, I don’t have exams for those, so I’m able to focus on my folios besides English, Math and the dreaded Philosophy class I’m taking as well.

The day passes by fairly quickly which I’m thankful for, and before I know it, lunch time rolls around. I spent my spare period sitting under my favourite tree instead of studying for exams like the rest of my year is doing, listening to music and enjoying the sunshine. Returning to my locker, I grab my Studio Art folder, art supplies, my A2 sized notebook and my lunch, and head to the year twelve common room. Colton and Georgia are draped across one of the couches, holding hands while eating their lunch.

I drop my books next to them and lounge on the seat opposite them. “Hey.”

“Colton, leave,” Georgia says without looking at him. “Nat and I have to talk.”

Colton sighs in annoyance. “But I don’t want to.”

“I don’t want you to leave either,” I confess to Colton, taking a bite out of my sandwich. “Georgie, we can talk about whatever you want to talk about later.”

I know what she wants to talk about, but I’m not in the mood to listen to it right now. Not after the car ride this morning, anyways.

“James!” I exclaim loudly in relief, glad to see one of my best mates in sight, walking over to us and taking a seat down next to me. “How have you been, buddy?”

He gives me an amused look, placing a hand to my forehead. “You alright, Nat?”

I lean forward to ruffle his hair, which I know he hates. “Absolutely bloody fantastic.”

James swats my hand away and I laugh. Seeing Georgia’s annoyed look makes me laugh harder, causing the rest of the group to look at me weirdly.

“I’m having a weird day,” I explain to the rest of them. “Stop judging me - argh!” The couch I’m sitting on has now sunk with the arrival of Mick’s body pressed up against my side. “Dude!” I scold, hitting Mick on the shoulder. “Fuck off.”

“Language, Natalie,” Mick teases, and I resist the urge to wipe that smile off his face. With my lips.

“Do you see that?” Mick suddenly brings up, looking over Georgia’s shoulder. We all follow his gaze to see Josh Carey sitting with some guy and a chick, whom I assume to be his friends. “Don’t you ever wonder which team he really plays for?”

“Does it matter?” Georgia asks. “He’s bisexual. So what?”

Mick snorts. “When I’m in the changing room and he’s around, I can’t help but think he’s checking me out or something. Makes me uncomfortable.”

James and Colton laugh, but I frown. I don’t like the way Mick mocks him like it’s bad to be bisexual or something. But I don’t say anything, and wonder quietly if Josh does like Mick.

He probably does. Everyone likes Mick. I’ve been thinking about it all day, and I’ve come up with nothing. Mick’s a hard guy to fault, not to mention he’s beautiful in every possible way.

And like Mick said, Josh plays for both teams, so he’s probably attracted to a lot of people in the school or something. I speculate whether he could ever be interested in me, but push the thought aside before it tries to remotely take up space in my mind. My heart belongs to Mick, and it always will.