Intuition.

Gerard and I switched cell numbers when we passed in the halls, but I never did end up playing soccer with them at lunch. For the first time at any of the schools since my mum died, I was called to the counselors office for support, as they put it.

The counselor, an old lady who looked to be in her eighties, droned on about how she was always there to chat to if I ever needed to talk about my mother or any other problems I might have.

I don’t think she would’ve liked to hear what I had a problem with at the time; her.

But the day was over and I was at home. And, as usual, Dad was at work. I lumbered around the house, completely filled with boredom; I had no idea what to do. It was too early to start dinner, I’d already finished all my homework and I didn’t know anyone around here.

When I walked into the lounge room and decided to playthe my piano. I warmed my fingers up playing a short version of ‘Where the Cit Meets the Sea’ by The Getaway Plan before moving onto some of the more classical stuff that I usually played.

I played for ages, until way after it was dark. Playing the piano was something I could lose and immerse myself in completely.

When I stopped, I felt elated, happy, hopeful even. I heard the crunch of gravel from out side and stood to look out the window. Dad was home.

I went to the front door and opened it, watching my Dad get out of the car and walk along the path. When he saw me he smiled.

“Hey Frank. Good day at school?” he asked. I nodded, returning his smile. This was one of the first times my Dad had been home in time for dinner.

“So, is it take-away or have you organised something?” he asked, once inside, setting his briefcase beside the front door.

“Take-away,” I grinned. “How was work?”

“It was good, I suppose. The normal stuff with patients and stuff so maybe not so good,” he said, starting to mumble towards the end.

I laughed. “Chill Dad, it’s cool. I know what you mean.”

“So what are we going to have?” he asked me cheerily, shrugging off his suit jacket and hanging it on one of the fancy stands that he insisted on keeping.

“You decide, but it has to be vegetarian for me,” I answered. The sound of my ringing cell phone was carrying through the house and down to my ears.

“When did tha–”

I cut my Dad off, “That’s my phone, be back in a moment.” And then I dashed up the stairs and into my room. My cell was on my desk, vibrating and ringing. Glancing at the caller ID, I saw it was Gerard.

“Hello?”

“Hey new kid,” came the cheery reply. “What happened to you at lunch today?”

“Uhh, I had a meeting,” I answered, “You know, new kid and all.”

“Yeah, I guess so. So you got any plans for tonight? I’m so bored, my little brother’s driving me insane!”

“Oh, err, yeah. My Dad’s home for dinner,” I replied, smiling when I realised this for the second time.

“Your Dad’s home for dinner?” Gerard half-asked, confused.

“Yeah, it’s a rare occasion,” I mumbled, noticing how weird it sounded.

“Wow. That sounds so weird. Mikey and I don’t have a Dad so it’s always Mum, Mum, Mum,” he said, laughing. I was taken aback.

“You…don’t have a Dad?”

“Yeah, of course I do, somewhere. Sorry, that must’ve sounded confusing. Nah, we have one but he left right after Mike’s was conceived. Haven’t seen the bastard since,” he explained, his voice still unexpectedly cheery.

“Oh,” was all I could say as I digested this.

“Well, I better let you go, yeah? Since it’s a rare occasion that your Dad’s home. But give me a call if you get bored or something.”

“Yeah, I will,” I smiled. We said our goodbyes and I hung up the phone, hearing the dial tone just as Dad called up to me asking if vegetarian pizza was alright. I shouted back a yes.

I had to admit, I was surprised. Because Dad’s a doctor he’s all for the balanced diet and saying that being a vegetarian, vegan etc was a bad lifestyle choice because of the lack of nutrients most of them get.

When I arrived in the kitchen my Dad was sitting up on the bench, talking into the phone.

“Yes, just two thanks.”

Pause.

“And a coke.”

Pause.

“Yep.”

Pause.

“Alright then. Thank you.”

“So. What’s this about you being vegetarian?”

I froze, my back to him because I was getting plates and cups out.

“I decided that I didn’t want to eat meat anymore,” I replied, knowing that I was probably in for it and he wouldn’t be happy.

“When?”

“About three months ago,” I answered, keeping my voice level and continuing to retrieve the plates.

“How come I didn’t know?” my Dad asked, more to himself than me, bewildered. I didn’t answer; I didn’t think I had to.

“Well, we’ll discuss this when I’m home for longer because I know how stubborn you can be,” he finally said, sounding exhausted and exasperated.

I turned around at that remark and through gritted teeth almost growled, “What do you mean ‘when I’m home for longer’?”

“I go back to work in an hour and a half. Why?” he replied.

“Nothing,” I said, shaking my head, trying to hide my fury. It wouldn’t matter though, he wouldn’t notice even if I bit him on the ass.

We waited around, not speaking, until the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it.”

Leaving the room, I walked to the front door and opened it to reveal the pizza delivery guy.

“Hey, how much is it?” I asked, reaching over to the table near the door.

“Seventeen dollars fifty three cents,” he replied, handing me the pizzas. Setting them on the small table, I gave him the money. He tipped his hat, thanked me and walked back out to his car, shutting the gate behind him with a slight bang. I carried the pizzas into the kitchen and my Dad was smiling.

“I can smell the pizzas from here,” he said. He picked up the pizza box that was his and said he hoped I enjoyed my pizza then walked out of the room and across the hall to his study. I was left standing there, by myself, with my bottom lip tremblingand my eyes threatening me with tears.

Taking a hold of myself, I picked up my pizza and stomped up to my room. I was more than furious, I was hurt. Wasn’t I good enough to spend a little time with?

I put the pizza box on my desk, with no intention to eat it, and ransacked my box of CD’s. Locating one of my Smashing Pumpkins disks, I finally smiled. I put the disk into my walkman that I usually used instead of my iPod and turned up the volume as high as it would go. I’d probably be deaf by the time I’m twenty. Only five years away.

My stomach growled a few times but I couldn’t bring myself to help cease the hunger pains. Listening to the music was comforting; I put the one song, ‘Bullet with Butterfly Wings’ on repeat. I mouthed the words; it was calming.

I don’t know how many times I listened to the song before Dad knocked on my door. Not that I heard the knock. He walked in and gestured for me to take my earphones off.

Once out, he frowned. “I can hear that music from here.”

I raised my eyebrow at him; I didn’t believe him.

“Smashing Pumpkins, Bullet with Butterfly Wings,” he said, smirking because he saw my expression and knew he was right. I allowed myself a faint smile.

“I came up here to say goodbye. I need to do some stuff before work and I have a half hour left,” he explained, leaning against the door frame.

“Okay then, see ya later,” I replied, getting ready to put my head phones back on.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright by yourself tonight? I’ll be home at four in the morning. I feel bad for leaving you here alone.”

I wanted to ask him to stay but I knew that even if I did, he wouldn’t. “I’m fine Dad,” I lied, “I’ve done this before.”

He smiled, “I knew you’d be okay with it, champ. I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Yeah, Dad. Bye,” I mumbled, itching to put my headphones back in.

“I’ll leave you to the Smashing Pumpkins then,” he teased before walking out of my room.

Another night of being home alone, being bored. Sometimes, I wish I had a sibling.