Dear Diary

Chapter 8

"Well, Mr Jacobs certainly doesn't mess around," I said as I gasped for breath after we had finished sprinting the last stretch. "First session and I'm already dying."

Richard laughed next to me. He didn't look nearly as bad as I did. I grumbled at my unfortunate-self as he handed me a bottle of half-frozen coke. "Here," he said. "Don't want you fainting on me again." He added a cheeky grin for good measure.

I rolled my eyes playfully and took the bottle from his hand. "It's not my fault I get bad low blood pressure, okay?" I said and twisted the cap before taking a large gulp, the cooldrink burning my parched throat as I swallowed.

"Yeah, but you should eat more salt," Richard said as he took a sip of his water and dabbed his forehead with a towel. "Ready to go?"

"Yup."

I grabbed my deodorant out of my duffle-bag and drenched myself in it before getting the rest of my stuff. Richard did the same and I smiled, "That's a nice deodorant. You should wear it more often." 

He flashed me a smile. "I'll make a note of that then," he said as he grabbed his own bag and we made our way to his car.

Richard had always wanted a bike, but his mother was much like mine in terms of protectiveness. Mine still wins the award as she won't let me drive alone until I'm twenty-one. 

So, instead of getting him a bike for his birthday, they bought him a car. Their reasoning was that if he was ever in an accident, he wouldn't be injured as bad. I couldn't roll my eyes at that excuse. I'll admit I didn't want Richard riding a bike either because of accidents. Even the thought of him riding a bike petrified me.

Once we were on the road, Richard glanced at me. "Wanna get some ice-cream?"

My mouth instantly watered at the thought. I've always loved ice-cream, my mom used to too, but because of this little addiction I slumped into my seat. "I've already used up all my allowance on it," I muttered sadly.

"No worries. My treat," Richard shrugged and I looked at him, my eyes growing wide with happiness.

"Okay!" I smiled. "I'll pay you back when I can."

"That's not necessary. It was my idea."

"Yes, but it's good manners."

Richard didn't respond as we stopped by my favourite café and within a minute I was happily munching on my favourite frutti-tutti flavour while Richard went for his usual chocolate and vanilla.

"So much for my new year's resolution of being healthier this year," Richard said, making us both laugh as we climbed back into the car.

It was about a fifteen minute drive to my dad's shop and, once the ice-cream was sadly gone, I turned on the radio and heard ABBA's song Super Trouper come on the speakers. "I love this song!" I almost squealed and turned it up to begin singing.

Normally, I never sang if there was anyone around, not even with my friends, but Richard was different. Our mom's are best friends, and we were born in the same year, so naturally we spent a lot of time together from little. That included both of us being forced to join the church choir when we were little. So while I sang the main words, Richard joined in with the small male part of the song. I wasn't the worst of singers, but I definitely wasn't the best.

Soon the song was over and I looked out the window thinking of the days when Richard and I sang. He stopped once his voice broke and I gradually stopped going too as the school workload grew. I smiled as a memory hit me.

"What are you thinking about?" Richard asked, noticing my faraway look.

"I was just thinking about the day your voice broke," I stated and watched his face turn pink.

"Don't remind me," he mumbled.

"Why not? It's funny! I thought you were going to die of some serious illness and so, in the middle of summer no less, I made you get under a heap of blankets, took your temperature and made you chicken noodle soup,"

"Yeah, but you put the thermometer in the wrong way and you made the soup with cold water," he reminded with a visible shudder.

I crossed my arms over my chest. "Not my fault my mom didn't allow me near the kettle and stove without parental supervision. And besides, you should be grateful I cared enough to do that."

"You're right. I think you would make a good nurse ... with a lot of practise." 

I punched his arm making him whine.

It wasn't long after that when Richard pulled to a stop in front of my dad's shop and we both climbed out the car. We made our way into the crowded building filled with cars and equipment and looked to see my dad leaning over a Ford engine. 

"Hey Dad!" I greeted and he turned to look at me.

He was a middle-aged man with grey hair and a prominent bald spot, a mustache and a stomach that all men seemed to get once their wives had children. It was hard to believe that he once had a six-pack.

"Hey, my girl. Hey, Richard," he greeted and wiped his grease-stained hands on his pants before shaking Richard's hand.

"Afternoon, Uncle Mac," Richard said with a smile. 

Dad turned back to the engine. "So, how was school?" he asked as he grabbed a vice-grip and attached it to a part on the engine.

"It's fine. I have one class with Richard and my teachers are all nice," I explained, thinking it would be best not to mention Cole and the two incidents concerning him. "Running was okay, but I need to start exercising more."

"Dobey will be pleased to hear that," he said and grabbed a spanner. Dobey always comes with me for my neighbourhood runs because my mom wanted me to have some protection. "How's your family doing, Richard?"

"They're doing well. Charlie's been selected for regionals for his rowing. What are you working on?" he asked as he came up to the engine.

"That's nice to hear." Dad sighed as he wiped his forehead free of sweat. "The timing's gone on this thing ... again," he said exasperated.

"I can help you if you like?" Richard offered, being the gentleman that he was.

Dad gave a relieved smile. "Thanks, would you mind passing me the..."

 I tuned out the conversation after that and collected my bags from the car. Richard and my dad have always gotten on well. Richard was like the perfect son in his eyes: religious, respectful, helpful, interested in cars, and the list could go on and on. 

Cars sort of bored me unless there was a story involved. My sister was always more of the mechanic than me. I'm more a people's person .... except when there's a new boy involved that I don't know.

Sometimes I think, if my parents could, they would have entered Richard and I have into an arranged marriage; seeming as though neither of us were interested in each other like that and my parents adored him.

Knowing that Richard would probably end up staying here until closing time, I took my homework to the office and closed the door, blocking out all noise and chatter. But even though my books were right in front of me, I just couldn't seem to focus. My mind kept going back to Cole ... and I couldn't understand why.