New Brother

Chapter 1

It was Friday morning near the end of March. Adam sat dejected on the ground near where he had been dropped off. It was another day of school, but certainly not another normal day for him. He had stayed the previous night at Gary’s house, but Gary’s mum had made it quite clear that he wasn’t welcome back there. The night before last, he had been at Aiden’s house, but Aiden’s dad’s displeasure at the situation had been painfully obvious. Adam’s arm was still sore from the blow he had received.

Who could he stay with tonight? Aiden and Gary had both said that they wouldn’t say anything to anyone, but he didn’t know how long it would be before word got out. As Adam looked up, he saw the Johnson twins getting off the bus. Maybe…

“Hey, Stick! Giant! Ready for the big game tomorrow?”

Startled, I looked around, and then grinned at one of my basketball teammates, Adam, as I stepped off the bus. Having just arrived at the Yarra Valley Christian College near Yarra Glen, my brother and I were nerving ourselves for another day at school. At least the weather seemed fine today. Living on the outskirts of Melbourne, Australia, we never know what the weather is going to do.

“Hi, Ads! Ready as ever. If my little brother here will pass me the ball occasionally I don’t think we’ll have a problem,” I replied cheekily.

My little brother looked down at me and grinned widely.

“If you’re ever in a decent position when I get the ball, David, I’ll pass it to you. Until then, I’ll keep shooting goals.” He laughed as he put his arm across my shoulder and then had me in a quick headlock before letting go.

I was a little surprised that my brother had called me by my real name instead of my nickname. Even though 5’ 10” is moderately tall for a sixteen-year-old, my build is, to put it bluntly, like a stick insect. Consequently, practically everyone calls me “Stick”.

My little brother, Randy, is two years younger than me. In one of those crazy genetic mix-ups, he’s already taller than me at just under 6’. Hence his nickname, “Giant”. He also has a much heavier build, which makes him quite an intimidating centre on the basketball court. Given our similar heights, and the fact that we are obviously brothers, we’ve been known as the Johnson twins for as long as I can remember. There are still a lot of people who can’t believe we’re not really twins. I think the fact that we always hang around together and both have the same dark blonde hair, almost a light brown, probably adds to the confusion. We fight occasionally; what brothers don’t? But I’d have to say that he’s as close to being a perfect brother as I could wish for.

Basketball is a major passion of ours. We formed our own team two years ago —mainly from school friends, along with two of our next-door neighbours. We play in the local under-17’s competition on Saturday afternoons. Admittedly it’s only B grade, but that’s not bad considering we started in C grade when the team was formed. We’ve had a good season so far, so we should make the finals in a couple of weeks’ time. If we can win the finals, we’ll be promoted to the A Reserve grade for the next season.

I was a little surprised that Adam “Ads” Kennedy was there to see us. Normally he arrives just before the classes start. I know that well, because I’ve often seen him arriving at the last minute in the classes we share. He’s also a founding member of the Everest basketball club that Randy and I play in. My dad suggested that name, saying that we might as well have a team name that shows how high we want to climb through the competition. It’s a bit tongue-in-cheek, as none of us are really that competitive.

Adam is a little shorter than me at 5’ 9”. He’s a year younger than me, though, so I suspect he’ll catch up eventually. He’s heavier —not really that surprising, considering how thin I am —but not by too much. His hair is brown, though it’s hard to tell that as he usually keeps it cut extremely short. When I asked him why a few months ago, he told me that he absolutely hates having curly hair. I had the impression that his mum kept making comments about how “cute” the curls looked. If there is one thing your typical teenage male hates, it’s being called “cute”. Keeping his hair short is Adam’s solution to the problem.

“Stick, I was wondering if I could ask you for a favour?” Adam inquired hesitantly.

I smiled in return. “Sure, Ads! No promises you’ll get it, though.”

Adam glanced down nervously, avoiding eye contact with either my brother or me. “I’m having a bit of trouble with my dad at the moment. He’s just as likely to decide that he can’t run me out to the stadium tomorrow. Do you think it’ll be okay if I crash at your place tonight? That way we can go to the game together.”

Randy and I looked at each other and shrugged.

“I can’t see a problem. We’ll just need to let Mum know.” I looked at him questioningly. “What’s the trouble with your dad?” I added.

“I’m not really sure,” Adam answered evasively, still looking down at the ground. “He’s just gone off his tree about something and I think he’s just taking it out on me. It’s just easier if I’m not around to set him off.”

Something wasn’t adding up. If things are so bad that you think you’re better off not being at home, you have to have a reason for thinking that. I was just about to call him on it, when I felt a pair of arms wrap themselves around my waist.

“Hmmm. I think you might be slowing down in your old age, Stick,” whispered a soft feminine voice from behind me.

I turned with a smile and kissed my girlfriend, Elizabeth Richardson, lightly on the lips. We’ve been going out for eight months now, and in my opinion, I’ve got the best girl in the entire school. I know that redheads are supposed to be hot tempered, but Liz is one of the most laid-back people I know. She may not be the best looker in year 10, but her sparkling personality outshines any of the other girls by a huge margin. At 5’ 5”, Liz only comes up to my eyes, but I think that is a perfect height. I slid my right arm across her shoulders as I pulled her gently to my chest for a quick hug. Her arms around my waist squeezed slightly, returning my sign of affection.

“And what makes you say that, Liz?” I asked in a soft, playful voice.

“I haven’t been able to sneak up on you for at least a couple of weeks. You usually spot me before I get within ten feet,” she smiled back. “What’s distracted you today?” she continued.

I turned back to Adam, but I saw him and Randy heading off towards the classrooms, chatting as they went.

“Ads was discussing the prep for tomorrow’s game with Giant and me. He also asked if he could crash at our place tonight, but he was a bit evasive about why. I was just about to ask him what was going on when you showed up.” I gave her another light kiss. “Sorry about that —next time I’ll keep in mind what the really important things are.” Liz always brings out the gentler side of my personality. It’s as if a light switch is thrown on inside me whenever she shows up —dispelling any dark or worrying issues that are bothering me.

As I mentioned Adam, I noticed a quick frown flick across her face.

“What’s wrong?” I asked her.

“I’m not sure,” she replied slowly, frowning again. “I’m beginning to hear some strange rumours about Adam. Apparently he stayed at Aiden’s house on Wednesday, but Aidy won’t talk about it. He just clams up and does his silent stare if he’s asked about it.”

Aiden “Aidy” Trent is the same age as me, but he’s the only one of our teammates who is in year 11 at school. This is not because he’s smart —okay, he’s reasonably smart, but not that smart —or that I was held back, but simply that he started school a year before me. Here in the state of Victoria, if you’re born in the first half of the year, your parents can either start you at school in the year you turn five or the following year. If you’re born in the second half of the year, you have no choice —you start school the year after you turn five. Aiden’s parents chose to start him at the earliest possible year, while my parents chose to wait the extra year. He has long, straight black hair that usually hangs loose, but is bound up in a ponytail when he’s on the basketball court. At 5’ 8”, he can play as either a forward or a guard, as the situation requires.

As Liz alluded, he can be a very private person. Of all our teammates, he’s the one that I understand the least. If he’s discussing basketball he’s open and friendly, but if the conversation strays into anything he considers personal, he becomes as unresponsive as a rock. Intimidating is an understatement for the impact you feel if you’re caught by his stare at those times. A change of topic, however, shatters the rock and he returns to being an extroverted, fun-loving teenager. I’ve only met his father once, when we played in the grand final during the first season of our team. Given how cold and unforgiving his father was on that day, I suspect that’s why he’s such a private person. We had won the grand final and all Mr. Trent could do was berate Aiden for some trivial mistakes he had made. Asking him to confirm that suspicion, however, is naturally out of the question. I’d like to get to know Aiden better, but I have reluctantly accepted that he is going to have to make the first move. All I can do is to keep giving him opportunities.

“Do you have any ideas on where he stayed last night?” I queried Liz.

“No…” she answered, reluctantly. “I know he didn’t stay with Aidy, as I saw him arrive a few minutes ago, and Adam was already here.”

I pondered the problem for a few seconds. “If he stayed with another teammate, it’d have to be either Gazza or Break. They are the only other ones who go to this school. I’d guess Gazza because he and Aidy are the only ones that live here in Yarra Glen.”

Gary “Gazza” Loveridge is in year 10 with me, but he’s another fifteen-year-old. Now, Liz doesn’t have the temper normally associated with redheads. Gary, on the other hand, definitely does. We all know what he’s like and know how to avoid setting him off, at least most of the time, but we can’t do much about when he sets himself off. In his favour is the fact that once he’s calmed down after blowing his top, everything is cool. He’s not one to hold a grudge or to stay angry for long periods of time. It’s a case of a massive blowup followed by a calm as if nothing had happened. At 5’ 7”, he’s one of our guards. Unfortunately, when he makes a mistake on the court, he starts to lose his temper and just gets more aggressive. It’s not uncommon for him to be fouled out in a match, with the occasional technical foul for abusive language thrown in. In fairness, I think he’s been getting better, but I’d have to give that credit to his new girlfriend Mary Bryant. She seems to be a steadying influence on him. Gary has the widest range of school friends of any of us. He seems to be able to talk to anyone and everyone —a talent that I’m envious of. Even his temper doesn’t seem to get in the road of him making friends. In fact, I think he’s made most of his friends during the aftermaths of his explosions.

Scott “Break” Wilson is our principal playmaker. He’s only 5’ 6” in height, which is a little short for a sixteen-year-old, but he’s very solid, and the fastest player on our team. He and Randy usually compete for who gets the highest score in our matches. Randy gets his goals under the basket where he can use his height, while Scott gets most of his from fast breaks and turnovers. He and Randy have almost a sixth sense on the court at times. When Randy gets a defensive rebound, he often immediately makes a baseball pass to Scott, who’s already three quarters of the way down the court towards our basket. Unlike Adam, Scott’s quite proud of his black curly hair. The two of them have had lots of fun discussions on whether or not the girls like curly hair. Overall, he tends to be the quiet type. He’s quite popular with the girls, but doesn’t seem to want, or be able to settle on, just one. No matter, he’s such a relaxed person that most of the girls that have chased him in the past still have a kind word for him if it’s ever needed. He’s also a computer wiz, as he’s demonstrated so many times in the computer class we share.

Rounding out the team are our other two teammates: Brett “B1” and Brian “B2” Ricardo, the team’s real set of fifteen-year-old identical twins. They are our next-door neighbours — using that term loosely. They live a quarter mile from Randy and me, but that’s because both families live on rural properties. That’s still our closest neighbour and they’re good friends. At 5’ 6”, they both play the guard position. They have the usual freakish, almost telepathic understanding of each other that’s not uncommon amongst identical twins and which comes in really handy at times on the basketball court. Both of them are in year 9, but since they go to a different school anyway, that’s not usually an issue. They have been called B1 and B2 since kindergarten. It was, I suppose, inevitable that they ended up nicknamed after a pair of giant bananas, given the popularity of the “Bananas in Pajamas” preschool show. I’m sure there are times they have wished that their parents had picked names with a different first letter, but that’s the fate of all kids —living with the mistakes our parents make. Nowadays, it’s almost like a badge of pride for them.

Practically everything they wear has either a 1 or a 2 on it somewhere. And, of course, their numbers on the basketball court are 11 and 12. I would like for them to attend our school, but their parents put them into the government school in nearby Lilydale. Happily, they’re around at our place almost as much as they’re at their home, so we haven’t lost touch with them since we left primary school.

“Tell you what. I’ll see what I can get out of Adam tonight, and I’ll let you know tomorrow morning. How does that sound?” I suggested, giving Liz a quick squeeze.

“Okay.” She smiled up at me. “And now for some depressing news —it’s time we got going to class.”

Damn! Why do they have to ruin a perfectly satisfactory Friday morning with school? I think they do it on purpose.

Adam noticed that a few people were beginning to give him some strange looks. He hoped it was just the state of his clothes. There wasn’t a lot he could do about them not being ironed —he only had three school shirts with him and there was no way he could keep them unwrinkled in his duffle bag. It would have been easier if the school didn’t have a compulsory uniform, but being at school was really his only chance of getting a place to sleep for the night. No one looked disgusted, and he didn’t hear any taunts, so hopefully that meant that Aiden and Gary had kept quiet about what was really going on.

Adam sighed. The real test with those two would be tomorrow at the game —if he showed up. It would be painfully obvious on the basketball court if they didn’t consider him to be a teammate any more. Tonight, however, it would be the Johnson twins. He was sure that their parents would do the same as Gary and Aiden’s, and ring home to check that he could stay the night. That’s when his dad would tell them all about his former son…

“Hi, Mum! We’re home!” Randy and I called out in unison, as we walked through the door.

There was no answer, which probably meant that she was either out shopping or down the paddock with her horse.

“She’s not here at the moment,” I said, turning to Adam. “Just put your stuff in my room before we start on our homework.”

“Okay. Do you mind if I take a quick shower and get changed, too?” he called back over his shoulder as he headed off

“Sure —you know where everything is.”

I turned to Randy.

“Giant. You did remember to ring Mum at lunchtime, didn’t you?” I asked him.

“Of course I did!” he answered indignantly, and then continued with a grin, “After all, I didn’t have to spend half my lunchtime chasing after Liz. From the way you looked, I’m surprised you remembered to get back to your classes afterwards. Oh yeah — it was probably Liz who remembered. Based on the expression on your face at the time, I don’t think there was anything like a thought going through that brain of yours!”

“Just you wait until you get a girlfriend, Randy! Then it’ll be my turn to give you grief,” I warned.

The Yarra Valley where we live is the wine-growing region on the northeast outskirts of Melbourne. The Yarra Valley Christian College is a secondary school (years 7 to 12) that gets its students from both the outer northeast suburbs of Melbourne and from the rural communities scattered through the valley. In our case, we’re the rural types. Our parents have a lovely little 20-acre property at the edge of the valley. The land is unsuitable for grape growing, otherwise it would be worth an absolute fortune, but it’s enough for our mum to keep up her hobby of riding horses. As an extra bonus, in autumn the views over the nearby vineyards are especially dramatic as the waves of gold, red and brown leaves recede into the distance. Add in the occasional spectacular sunset, and you have a little slice of heavenly beauty to take the breath away.

My brother and I have lived here all our lives. Our parents, Kevin Castle and Yvonne Johnson, are both accountants —though Mum now only works part-time —and moved out here to start their family. They’ve been married for twenty years. Our mum refused to change her name when they got married, and that causes occasional confusion. When I was born, and later when my brother arrived, my dad let us take our mum’s surname. He told us later that his parents already had lots of “Castle” grandkids —my dad has two brothers —but our mum’s parents didn’t have any “Johnson” grandkids until we came along, as my mum’s family is all girls. That’s the sort of relaxed, accommodating person that my dad is. Sometimes he’s asked why he didn’t insist on Mum changing her name. He’s always replied that it’s just that he can’t see the point in fighting or arguing about issues that in the total scheme of things are just not important. After all, what’s in a name? If it makes my mum happy to not change her name, why shouldn’t she keep it?

Anyway, Mum is a keen, though amateur, horse rider. Whenever possible, she goes to all the local competitions. Before they started a family, my parents worked hard to buy a property where she could have her horses with her. It was that important to her. We have three horses at the moment. My dad rides, as well, but I think it’s mainly just to keep Mum company. He certainly doesn’t practice very much, unlike Mum. Randy and I can both ride, but neither of us is particularly interested in it as a sport. When we want to ride, we just take Mark, our horse, and borrow Bel, Dad’s horse. No one, repeat, no one, is allowed to ride Jacque, Mum’s horse, except for her. She tries to ride him at least once a day if the weather is reasonable. Normally she’ll ride in the morning, but it’s not unusual for her to be down the paddock with the horses when we get home from school.

As he took a shower, Adam had an idea. If they thought he’d already called home, maybe they wouldn’t ring his dad. If they didn’t, he might be able to stay for Saturday night as well, before they found out…

“Hey, Stick. I really should call home and let them know where I’m staying tonight. Do you mind if I call now?” Adam asked.

Whoever invented trigonometry deserves to be shot AND castrated. I looked up from my math homework as Adam came out of my bedroom. I suddenly remembered his comments from this morning.

“I thought you were trying to avoid your dad. Won’t ringing him just cause problems?” I asked, with a curious look.

“Ah… I’ll probably get Mum at this time of the day, so I don’t think that’ll be an issue,” Adam replied, staring around the room to avoid eye contact.

He was being evasive again. I think even Randy was picking up on it, as he’d just given me a quizzical look. What exactly was going on? I decided to try to get the answer out of him later, when he was more relaxed.

“Okay, the phone’s over there.” I shrugged, pointing to the phone.

“Thanks, mate.”

Because of the size of the property, we have a cordless phone that works anywhere within a couple of hundred meters of the house. As Adam hadn’t bothered to take the phone out of the room, and I really didn’t want to get back to my math homework, I couldn’t help eavesdrop on his conversation.

“Hi, Mum.”

“Yes, I’m fine. I’m staying with Stick and Giant tonight.”

He rolls his eyes as he looks over in our direction. “Yes, Mum, of course I’ll remember to thank Mrs. Johnson for having me over.”

“Has he calmed down yet?”

He frowned slightly as he listened to the response.

“Okay, I’ll call you tomorrow after the game.”

“Alright. Bye, Mum. See you soon.”

As Adam hung up, I saw Randy looking strangely at him. He had obviously listened to the conversation as well as me, but he seemed to have picked up something about it that I hadn’t.

“Ah… Ads…” he started hesitantly.

“Yeah, Giant. What is it?” Adam asked in a distracted tone, as he came to the table with his schoolbooks.

Randy looked at him for a moment, as if he was trying to work out what to say.

“Never mind,” he sighed, as he turned his attention back to his homework.

Adam quietly let out the breath he was holding. For a moment he had thought that Randy had realised what he had done. He thought he had held the phone so the brothers couldn’t see that it wasn’t on when he was talking, but he wasn’t sure. Then he mentally kicked himself. He should have rung the phone number for the Johnsons’ home and then talked to the “engaged” signal. Then there wouldn’t have been any risk at all.

“Hi, boys. Hi, Adam. I believe you’re staying the night,” Mum called out cheerfully, as she came in through the back door.

“Hi, Mum,” my brother and I chorused.

“Hello, Mrs. Johnson. Yes, if that’s alright with you,” Adam replied.

“That’s fine, as long your parents are okay with it,” she replied, kicking off her boots. She obviously wasn’t paying too much attention to the conversation.

“I rang them earlier to let them know where I am,” Adam announced in a matter-of-fact tone.

I noticed that Randy had that strange look on his face again, as if he wanted to say something, but wasn’t sure if he should.

“Alright, then. How long have you been studying?” she asked us, obviously closing the topic of Adam staying the night.

Randy looked up at the clock. “About an hour and a half. I’m just about finished. What about you guys?” he asked, looking at Adam and me.

I looked at Adam and raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I think I’ve had enough, too. I’ve done everything I have to do, and made a good start on some of the longer-term homework. What about you, Adam?”

“Same here. Time for some two-on-one practice?” he asked with an enthusiastic smile.

We all grinned.

“Let’s get changed and meet back at the ring in five,” I suggested, closing my books and rising to my feet. The other two quickly joined me in doing the same.

Two-on-one practice is something we do when one of our teammates is around. Our dad played a bit of basketball when he was younger and helps out as a coach when he can. As we only really play for fun, we don’t bother training, though Randy often joins one of the more serious other teams in our competition for their training sessions. What can I say? It’s a friendly local competition —not the state championships. Dad’s always complained that too much emphasis in the game is spent on offense and not enough on defense. He once admitted to me that the main reason he says that is that defense was the only thing he was ever good at, but that’s beside the point.

When we have three of us, we play two offenses against one defense. If the offensive player misses a shot, or the defense steals the ball, then that offensive player becomes the defense and the defense becomes the offense. The idea is both to improve the defensive skills —otherwise you end up playing the entire time as defense —and also to train the offensive players to always find the easy shot. As my dad always tells us, when you’re two against one, someone should always be able to take a shot without any defense. It’s been surprisingly successful, and our team is acknowledged as having one of the best defenses of our grade, even if it is only B grade.

We played until Dad came home, and then went inside for a shower before dinner.

At dinner, the conversation flowed pretty smoothly. Dad was asking his usual questions about our schoolwork, and what we thought our chances were for the game tomorrow. (We’d win, of course — what other answer could there be?)

“Adam, I believe you’re staying the night. Is that right?” my dad asked, as we were finishing up.

“Yes, sir. I thought it would be better to go to the game from here, rather than from home,” Adam replied.

I looked at him suspiciously. That wasn’t quite the reason he had given me this morning!

“I spoke to your father this afternoon,” my dad continued calmly, keeping his eyes on Adam.

Adam froze. “Here it comes,” he thought

“Under the circumstances, I was wondering if you’d like to stay here for the weekend?” Dad asked in a tender tone and with a wry half smile.

Adam was stunned. This wasn’t what he expected. “What the fuck is going on?” he wondered.

“Kevin, what do you mean? What circumstances?” Mum asked, looking surprised at Dad.

I mentally echoed the question. What did my dad know that I didn’t?

“Adam, do you want to answer that question, or would you like me to?” my dad asked gently, looking intently at Adam.

Everyone looked at Adam. I had heard about someone looking like a deer in a spotlight, but I don’t think I’d ever seen it before. Adam looked frozen in terror. His eyes were locked on my dad’s. He flicked a terror-stricken glance at my brother and me before looking down at the table. His mouth opened and closed a few times, but no sound came out.

“Okay then, I’ll answer it,” Dad sighed. “Adam was kicked out of his home on Tuesday night. As far as his father is concerned, Adam is no longer his son.”

“WHAT! Why the fuck would he do that?” I yelled angrily.

“Because,” Adam said quietly, with a note of sorrow and pain that seemed to be drawn from the bottom of his heart, “I’m gay.”

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