Kingdoms 1: This Boring Life

Life is nothing but a boring routine. People live and then they die. People laugh and then they find some reason to cry soon after. They love and hate, rise and fall, inspire and demean. And everyone falls under the same cycle; lather, rinse and repeat just like a bunch of idiots. I sighed and rested my head in my hands, staring blankly out at the rain outside which blurred the school grounds into nothing but pools of green and grey. How dreary.

Amidst my sullen thoughts, I could hear the sound of the school bell in the background and the automatic sound of books closing and the combustion of chatter which followed immediately after. With a small side glance, I could tell the classroom was already half-empty. I didn’t get it, what’s the rush? You had all the time in the world to waste. I grabbed my backpack which lay slumped at my feet and put my maths textbook inside. I hadn’t even bothered opening it the whole class, I just put it on my desk for show. That’s an A plus for effort right there.

The weather turned into nothing short of a tropical storm soon after. In that short amount of time where I packed my bags and headed for the car park, the wind had started throwing tantrums, banging doors, knocking over garbage cans and tugging profusely on tree branches to the point where they just cleanly broke off and fell. I stood in the foyer with my arms crossed, waiting. I almost wanted to laugh at the people who thought that they could fight off this horror with a single umbrella, that thing was going to turn inside out and blow away in two seconds flat.

“Naomi, are you taking the bus?” a voice said. Surprised at the sound of my name, my eyes darted around for a familiar face, only to feel a tap on my shoulder in return. It was Elaine, a sweet girl with freckles and big eyes that I had grown rather close to during history class. She had the same laidback attitude as I did, which I liked, and also didn’t talk too much, which I loved. There was no reason for us not to get along.

“I brought my car today,” I explained.

“Ah, I see. I’ll see you tomorrow then.” And she left to go chase after her bus with a small wave. See, she doesn’t linger aimlessly.  By the time the rain had toned down to a slight drizzle, there were only two others girls left standing on the thick, turquoise green carpet of the foyer aside from myself. One of them, a brunette I’ve seen in the hallways from time to time was busily chatting on her cell phone, the other silently turning the pages on a Jamaica Kincaid novel. That was a rare sight; fiction books in general were basically obsolete these days. I grabbed my keys and then walked towards the glass door which smoothly opened up in front of me, and headed towards the student car park.

It was a fair walk, it seemed even longer when you felt slightly wetter with every step you take. The school was huge though, a good thirty hectares in Parramatta, which was a fair distance west of Sydney. This meant that there was land to spare for an all-girl private school, dedicated to the well-off families of Australia, which promised to bring their daughters up in some kind of religiously-guided manner. It’s my second and final year here, and I don’t feel the least bit holier.

I pressed the button on my car key and a white Audi sitting patiently in a corner space bleeped in return. The sight which unfolded before me as I walked nearer had me gritting my teeth. I could accept that fact that it was littered with wet leaves and fallen twigs but it was also tilting rather sharply towards the right.

“Darn it,” I said, seething. The tyre was flat, and from the look of the long cut, someone had a whole lot of fun slashing it. “Seriously!?” I kicked the rims in frustration and took out my phone from the black hole that was my back pack. He was number one on my speed dial.

“What’s up?” a cheeky voice said on the other side.

“So, I have a flat tyre.”

“Do you have a spare?”

“Isn’t it illegal not to have one?”

“True that. You’re still at your school right?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll be there in twenty. Just wait inside the car, you’re going to catch a cold.” I did as I was told, and sure enough the blaring sound of a motorbike fills my ears as it pulled into school and neatly parked itself a space away exactly twenty minutes later. I smiled as I saw him lean down and tap softly on my window. Those dark brown eyes, dark brown hair and cheeky grin made up the splitting image of every hero in every children’s storybook. Too bad Henry was my hero.

“Does someone have a grudge against you or something Naomi?” he asked me, as he ran his finger over the cut.

“Maybe,” I said frankly. Well, I wasn’t exactly the most favourite person in school at the moment. This was a girl’s world where silence was read as bitchiness and driving an Audi was called showing off. Shame I did both.

“This might take a while, what are you going to do about work?”

“I don’t have any today.”

I crouched down beside Henry as he got started on switching the tyres. The rain had let up, but now the sky was practically cloudless leaving room for the sun to mercilessly beat down on us. I noticed the small beads of sweat framing his forehead, and carefully used the sleeve of my jumper to wipe them off.

“Thanks babe,” Henry said in response, smiling. I slowly nodded my head in return. It’s odd, relationships. Some you create, some you’re born with and some you’re forced to make, but that bond you have with a complete stranger can be stronger than one that’s made by blood. This man that came to me at a single call, the person I felt I naturally belonged to, was someone who I’ve only known existed for six months. Yet I felt like I’ve lived my whole life with him.

“I’ll see you at the pool tomorrow, okay? I’ve got lifeguard duty at five,” he said. My car was back to its original condition within the hour.

“I’ll be in the kid’s pool, as usual.” That’s where we met. I was teaching a bunch of pre-schoolers for the first time, and he was sitting on his high seat clad in yellow, amusing himself by watching me fail miserably at it. I’m a lot better now, which is obviously why I still have my job, but I’m not going to lie, it’s difficult. I liked it though as swimming had always been one of my personal joys. Living life might be bland and suffocating but in that water I felt calm; I felt like I could finally breathe.

The sun had lost its power by the time I turned into my street, a quiet one perched on the side of the hill on the north shore. One look at the rows of houses which lined its side and any person could tell it was an affluent neighbourhood, where parked in every garage was a car or two above seventy grand and maybe a yacht docked in the wharf as well. This was the place I grew up in. The children get ATVs on their birthday, there was a party at the Hilton every month and at some point a credit card linked to their parent’s account was handed over to them. At home, I put the bowl of pasta on my lap and turned the television on loud, so that it echoed incessantly throughout the empty house. It’s nine at night and I was left to eat dinner alone as usual; the standard leftovers from last night’s takeaway. I jabbed my fork at the piece of chicken which was haphazardly resting on top and slowly chewed through it. This was also the type of place that I had to grow up in.