Class of 1983: A Young Adult Time Travel Romance Page 3

  Magz put the key into the ignition, started it up and reversed.

  A thump on the car’s back window made them both jump. She looked around to see a red sticky liquid sliding down the window.

  “What now?” she groaned.

  “Fanta,” said Jack.

  “What?”

  “Go!”

  Magz put her foot down, churning up dust as a second drink hit the back window.

  Magz didn’t let out her breath again until they were safely out of the school gates.

  “That was crazy, they could’ve killed us!” Jack wound down the window and shouted profanities back towards the school.

  “Or broken my windows. I hate this car, but I don’t want it wrecked.”

  “Six months Magz, that’s it,” said Jack.

  “I can’t stand another six minutes of this,” she replied.

  * * *

  Magz dropped her bag by the door and slipped out of her shoes. Jack dumped his satchel down next to it and kicked off his sneakers.

  “It's not that messy.” Jack walked into the cream-colored lounge room and shrugged. Everything in this room was in various shades of cream. The couch, the cushions, the rug. The only exceptions were the black flat screen on the wall and the plates and cups sitting on the glass coffee table. This was Magz's home, but with the exception of her own room, there was nothing homely about it. Jack always referred to her house as 'the show home'. It pissed her off, but it was true. Maybe that was the reason she never put the dishes away. At least with a couple of plates lying around the place it looked lived in.

  “Wait until you see the kitchen.” She picked up the plates and led the way.

  “What happened to your cleaner?” asked Jack as he cleared the mugs from the table and retched a little at something gross growing inside one.

  “They cancelled her. They didn't think I was going to make that much mess on my own. They should know better by now.”

  “You can say that again.” He squished up his nose and assessed the damage. “What the hell have you been doing in here?”

  “Living?” She rummaged under the sink and brought out some trash bags. Jack grabbed one off her and got to work.

  “This is ridiculous, your parents can't just leave you here alone for this long.” He shook his head as he threw old food scraps and packaging into the bag.

  “They’ve left me for longer, and it doesn't even make a difference if they are home or not, it’s not like they ever eat dinner here anyway.” Magz opened the dishwasher and began unloading it as Jack continued throwing stuff in the trash.

  “Seriously,” said Jack smelling some old containers of Chinese food. “This is not from last time we had Chinese is it?”

  “Probably,” she said noisily stacking plates.

  “That was a week ago,” he said throwing the containers out.

  “We can't all have parents who cook and clean for us and actually exist in our lives,” Magz snapped at him. “Also, you can recycle those.”

  Jack fished out the containers and looked at her. “I can't be sorry for having parents who are around, but you know you can come over any time you want a real dinner or some company, and you know I'll come over whenever you get lonely, or bored.”

  Magz put the plates down and turned to him. “Sorry.”

  He dropped the containers back in the trash. “And I’m pretty sure you can’t recycle these,” he said.

  He grabbed her up in his arms squeezing her tight. It was exactly what she needed. Magz loved the way Jack smelled. He smelled like clean laundry and popcorn. He smelled like home, not home like this house, this house just smelled like rotting dinners for one. She hated that his school shirt was getting damp under her eyes.

  She pulled herself together and playfully slapped his shoulder. “Why can't you be straight damn it?” She wiped underneath her eyes with the back of her hand.

  “Like you’d be my type anyway,” Jack joked.

  She laughed weakly.

  “Tux!” Jack exclaimed breaking free of the embrace and picking up the black and white tuxedo cat beneath his feet. Magz gave Tux a kiss on the nose, leaving him with a wet cheek. The cat purred and nuzzled his head into Jack's chest. Jack grinned. “The cat loves me!” he boasted as Tux began to meow and wriggled to be let down.

  Magz laughed as Jack gently let Tux down on the floor. She looked at the pile of dishes and sighed. “It's going to take all night.”

  “You go take a shower then set up the movie, I'll do this.” And despite her feigned resistance Jack pushed her out of the kitchen.

  “You sure?”

  “Yes, I’ll even see if I can clean up those containers for recycling and then I'll order more Chinese food,” he rolled his eyes playfully.

  Jack never bothered with pretending it was going to be OK or giving her some words of wisdom. He was just there. He knew tomorrow would bring the same old crap at school, but tonight would bring Chinese food and a movie, and that was enough for now.

  * * *

  Molly Ringwald was on the big flatscreen TV pouting about everyone forgetting her birthday as Magz stuffed a spring roll in her mouth.

  “Chinese is so good,” said Jack loading his fork with sweet and sour pork and swinging his legs up onto the coffee table in front of the couch.

  “How's the pork?” Magz asked with a mouth full of spring roll.

  “Awesome,” said Jack. “Thanks for dinner.”

  “Thank the parentals. Thank Mastercard.”

  “Priceless.” Jack slurped on his Pepsi.

  “You know, my parents forgot my birthday one year,” said Magz.

  “Shut up,” said Jack taking a spring roll off her plate.

  “I was twelve. I guess it was just before we became friends. That night they came home at nearly midnight with a cake and presents. They pretended they hadn't forgotten, like it was all just a joke and it was meant to be a surprise, but it was so obvious. I sat here all night watching the Back to the Future trilogy. Alone on my birthday. Doc Brown was just about to turn up with the steam train.”

  “You were just a kid,” said Jack shaking his head. “But still, there are worse ways to spend a birthday.”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “Remember that first day we met?” Jack asked.

  Magz laughed. “Oh sure, that was a great day,” she scoffed.

  “You were so fiery, remember? You literally kicked Big Mick in the pants trying to stick up for me.” Jack laughed. “He threw my bag down the hallway and called me a girl for carrying a satchel. What a jerk”.

  “I tried to help you. But I’m pretty sure I just made it worse. And then you got pushed into a locker for the first time.”

  “And not the last time, but still, it was worth it. To see you stand up to those guys and all.”

  “You done with that?” Magz asked, changing the subject and pointing to the pork.

  He passed her the pork. “Things were better back then,” he said thoughtfully.

  “Sometimes I don't know what's better or what's worse, the old times or the now times,” she said filling up her plate again. “But at least no one's holding a protractor to your throat these days, a bit of maple syrup is really nothing in comparison.”

  “I just wish we were having a better time,” Jack said. “The last year of high school should be something to remember forever, you know? Making awesome memories, getting crazy and stuff.” Jack filled up their drinks again.

  “It's kind of all been pretty sucky so far,” she mumbled with her mouth full. “I'm just hanging out for new times.”

  “Me too, like getting the hell out of Saint C's and this one-horse town,” said Jack.

  “Santolsa 'aint so one-horse if you know where The Stables are,” Magz grinned.

  The Stables was the name of a biker bar just out of town where Magz and Jack had been a couple of times. The music was great, the people were friendly, and it was pretty easy to get a beer. It had a bad reputation but was much saf
er for Magz and Jack than Sticks, the jock bar in town.

  “Did Magz just make a joke?” Jack asked. “Magz Martin just made a joke everyone!” he shouted. Magz threw the last spring roll at him. It bounced off his chest and landed onto the cream-colored carpet.

  “That's such a waste and I'm not picking it up,” Jack waggled his foot impatiently for a few seconds and then picked it up. He looked at it suspiciously. Magz grabbed it off him and shoved it in her mouth.

  “Waste not, want not,” she mumbled.

  “Two one-liners in one day, what have you done with my sad friend Magz?” he grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her gently. She giggled and the chewed-up spring roll in her mouth landed on his lap.

  “Sorry!” she laughed. He made a face and threw it back on her plate.

  “It's good to see you laugh Magz.” He grabbed her and hugged her awkwardly on the couch.

  “I'm glad we're friends,” she said quickly before her brain decided it was too soppy.

  “Me too.” And he put the last piece of pork on her plate.

  * * *

  After giving Jack a ride home to his tiny house filled with lights and voices, she felt lonelier than ever as she pulled up into the driveway in front of her big empty dark house. Tux greeted her as she stepped inside, she picked him up and held him like he was a baby.

  “It’s just you and me kitty,” she whispered to him as he began to wriggle away. Even the cat didn't want her.

  As Magz was getting ready for bed that night she picked her school skirt off the bed and threw it on the back of her chair. Something dropped from her pocket.

  “What is this?” she said to herself picking it up. She rubbed her finger over it. It was nothing special, just a regular brass key, like any other regular door key, but what was it doing in some guy’s old yearbook? Magz got to thinking about Sammy Ruthven and why Mrs. Willis was acting so strangely when she mentioned him. “Sammy Ruthven is...” she had said without finishing, and the look on her face was as if she had seen a ghost. What did it mean?

  When she returned from her en-suite bathroom after brushing her teeth she picked up the key again. “It's just a key,” she said to herself. “Stop being so weird Magz.”

  Tux looked up, Magz shrugged at him. “It's just a key,” she said again, this time to the cat.

  Tux yawned and closed his eyes.

  “Isn’t it?” she asked herself. She carefully placed it on the bedside table and got under the polka dot covers.

  Four

  The Scrunchie

  “So, Stables on Friday?” asked Jack dropping into his usual seat up the back of the English classroom.

  “Sure,” Magz shrugged as she sat down beside him.

  “I could seriously use a drink after this week,” Jack said, tapping his blue pen on the desk and seeming a little wired.

  “You know it's only Tuesday, right?” Magz asked.

  “Magz, why are you doing this to me? I need something in life to look forward to that’s a little sooner than six months away.”

  Magz sighed. It was going to be a long six months if Jack was going to count down the days like this. “I can pick you up at like, seven? Is that too early for The Stables?” she asked.

  “It’ll be quiet but that’s OK, we’ll be able to talk.”

  “Or we could get some food first,” she suggested. “I’ll get you at six and we can stop by Dee's for a burger.”

  “Leave the mom-mobile at home. I’ll grab a sandwich, take you on my bike.”

  “I'm not getting on your bike,” she said.

  “Why not?”

  “Because it’s too far to ride, or I’ll fall off, and how are we going to get home after a few drinks?”

  “I can ride better after a few drinks because I’m more confident,” Jack said, running his hand through his dark hair.

  “That’s what drunk drivers say.”

  “Maybe they have a point.”

  “I’m going to forget you ever said that because I know you don’t mean it.” She gave him a look.

  “How are we going to get home if you drive? You can’t stay sober at The Stables, that won’t be any fun,” he pouted.

  “Taxi?” Magz suggested fluffing up the top of her topknot held in place by a spotted scrunchie.

  “A taxi costs way too much, last time it was nearly a hundred bucks there and back,” Jack complained. Jack was mostly pretty broke. What he really needed was a part time job, but in Santolsa there was nothing much but the coffee shop where he’d already worked for one unsuccessful week, or the stores in the Mega Mini Mall. But he just could not bring himself to sell jeans to the kids who beat him up at school.

  “I’ll pay,” she said.

  “Way to de-masculate me Magz.”

  “I’m not trying to e-masculate you, and I can afford it so I should pay, regardless of my gender.”

  “This has nothing to do with your gender, you can’t afford it either.”

  “Yeah, well, my folks can,” Magz shrugged, her body slumping as she noticed her nemeses enter the room.

  “Your parents are basically emasculating me then.”

  “You can discuss that with them if they ever come home.”

  “Do you promise we’ll go to The Stables on Friday? I don’t want to get a text from you at like five minutes to six saying you want to just watch movies like you did the last time.”

  “Jack, I promise I’ll go to The Stables with you Friday,” she promised.

  “Forrester!” shouted Jim as he made straight for them, his thick neck vibrating like a skin tuba.

  Jack looked at him but said nothing.

  “Answer when I speak to you,” Jim said putting his grubby hands on Jack's desk and leering over him. Magz could smell the stale sweat beneath his one-dollar man spray. She stifled her reaction to gag a little.

  “I don't answer to you,” Jack said confidently, but without making eye contact.

  “The fag and his asexual slut of a fag hag!” Jim shouted as if introducing two new contestants to his audience in some sick game show.

  Jack rolled his eyes and Magz had to stop herself asking what exactly an asexual slut was.

  “Don’t look so confused, Margaret. We know what you did last Summer,” Mindy grinned from behind her boyfriend, and cackled at her own pathetic joke.

  “At least she gets the guys she wants,” Jack said. It was no real secret that Mindy had wanted Big Mick for herself. She had hooked up with Jim only after being rejected by Big Mick at a house party last Summer. The same party that Big Mick and Magz had first made out at. The first and last house party Magz had ever gone to. Magz sometimes wondered if maybe Mindy was just super jealous and insecure and that’s why she acted the way she did. But then again, it was hard to have any sympathy for someone who was so horrible.

  “Say what Forrester?” spat Jim, his fat face turning into a beetroot.

  Magz rolled her eyes. Not only were they assholes, they were prejudiced and stupid. She had no idea how they were going to live in the world after High School. They would stay in this town, probably pop out a bunch of bully babies who would torment the next generation of nerds and losers at this very same school. It was not the kind of life Magz wanted for herself. She didn’t really know exactly what she did want, but it sure as heck wasn’t that.

  “What is this stupid nineties scrunchie you wear in your hair?” Mindy asked as her black nail-polished hand thrust towards Magz’s face. Magz flinched and closed her eyes waiting for whatever was coming. She felt a sharp tug on her hair, the sensitive skin of her scalp pulled way, way too far away from her skull. She was in agony. Magz put her hands to her head to protect herself and squealed, while Mindy tugged furiously. A second later Mindy had a spotty scrunchie and a good chunk of chestnut brown hair in her hand.

  Magz opened her watering eyes. As the pain began to slowly subside, anger began to rise in her chest. This was new. Instead of wanting to cry, she wanted to scream, she wanted to tell her to stop b
eing such a bitch, to leave them the hell alone. She wanted to tell Mindy that scrunchies were from the eighties, not the nineties! But she was still petrified of this girl and what her boyfriend would do to Jack. She had no power and no voice and no idea where to look for it, except at Jack, who looked just as lost.

  Jack gave her a sorry look. He had wanted to help her, shout, grab Mindy’s hand, tell them all to go to Hell, but it had all happened so quickly.

  “Scrunchies are stupid,” Mindy laughed as she pinged the scrunchie across the classroom, ignoring the stares and whispers from the other students filing into class. Magz looked down at her desk, tears of humiliation now stinging in her eyes.

  “Go get it,” Mindy spat, slapping Magz’s desk aggressively with her palm.

  Jack jumped out of his seat, unable to witness one more moment.

  “It's called having some individuality, but you wouldn't know about that because you just follow, you just do what everyone else does but worse. You are such a ...”

  “Disperse!” yelled Mrs. Willis dropping a huge pile of books on her desk.

  “You can't call my girl names and get away with it Forrester,” Jim growled. Jack raised his eyebrows. It'd be just another punch in the face after school, no big deal, nothing new. Taking punches was easy, having to watch Magz's hair get ripped out of her head was way worse.

  “Yeah, well,” Jack began, “why don’t you just tell your girl to go to a hairdresser,” Jack said tentatively.

  “What did you say to me?” seethed Jim.

  “That's enough!” shouted Mrs. Willis.

  “I said,” said Jack, standing up a little straighter behind his desk and looking Jim right in his beady little troll eyes. “Tell. Your. Girl. To. Go. To. A hairdresser!” A couple of kids who were game enough giggled and some who weren’t just gasped.

  Mindy's face turned the same beetroot red color that Jim’s had been earlier, and her mouth dropped open. Magz put her pink-polished fingers to her mouth to stop a laugh escaping before turning serious again when she imagined the beating Jack was going to get for this.